Cole Porter: the tragic final years of America’s first great songwriter
Those not familiar with the name Cole Porter are doing themselves a disservice, but you will have most definitely heard his songwriting genius.
From penning many of the greatest standards to ever grace the classic American songbook to creating some of the most well-known and beloved theatrical and Hollywood scores in the world, this was a man whose life, on the face of it, seemed laced with a certain lucky streak of golden star power. Well, that’s how most people see it, at least – but his reality was one far more torrid and tragic than what met the eye.
Between his earliest effort with ‘Bingo Eli Yale’ – a Yale football song which continues to be sung even today – to the prolific Broadway heights of Anything Goes, Porter was undeniably one of the most in-demand and decorated composers of his time in the early decades of the 20th century, given that everything he touched seemed to turn into instant surefire mastery. Yet despite riding high for so long, everything came tumbling down in the space of a moment in the late 1930s.
That sense was both a literal and metaphorical one, as, in 1937, Porter was involved in a devastating horse-riding accident where he fell and had his legs severely crushed by the animal. In short, this left him permanently disabled and in constant pain for the rest of his life. Despite this, the initial incident wasn’t a potted tale of tragedy, as the years that ensued didn’t let up in terms of their struggles.
It was a particular twist of the knife that, despite Porter being determined to keep working even with his setbacks, his accident and the dawn of the 1940s coincided with a massive downturn in the commercial and critical appreciation of his work. Songs went unheard and projects faded into obscurity, making it look as though the once lauded songster was truly done. It wasn’t until over a decade after his fall from the saddle, in 1948, that he returned to greatness with Kiss Me Kate.
However, life still wouldn’t just let Porter be free to ride off into the sunset. The years of constant pain in his legs eventually caught up to him, and in 1958, after countless operations and a series of ulcers had developed, his right leg had to be amputated. Although those around him thought this would mark a new chapter – Noel Coward famously wrote of Porter that, “The lines of ceaseless pain have been wiped from his face…I am convinced that his whole life will cheer up and that his work will profit accordingly.”
Devastatingly, Coward’s predictions couldn’t have been further from the reality that unfolded. Porter never penned another song, or played another note, for the remaining six years of his life, and sparingly only had contact with his closest friends. He died on October 15th, 1964, from kidney failure at the age of 73 – and all in a moment, America had lost one of its greatest ever songwriting sons. They knew, even then, that they would never see his like again.
