Southern Bookman

Film Comment magazine a beacon of hope for print

I discovered "Film Comment" magazine the other day.

Much to my surprise, I found that the magazine published by the Film at Lincoln Center series has been coming out since 1962. Since I am a lifetime magazine junkie, I thought I would have discovered "Film Comment" long ago.

The magazine gives hip/academic analysis of films ranging from American blockbusters to obscure foreign productions. Writers such as  The New York Times film critic Manohla Dargis and staffers J. Hoberman, Dave Kerhr, Michael Sragow and Amy Taubin give an auteur's perspective, while remaining grounded.

Also impressive is the magazine's historical outlook. I appreciated a retrospective on the late Doris Day and a feature on United Artists' 100th anniversary.

Another strong piece is Taubin's interview with director Jim Jarmusch about his recent zombie black comedy "The Dead Don't Die." The film received negative reviews, but Jarmusch's thoughts about his scriptwriting made me want to see it.

The film's cast exudes acting brilliance: Bill Murray, Adam Driver, Chloe Sevigny, Tom Waits, Danny Glover, Steve Buscemi, Tilda Swinton. There's even an appearance by Iggy Pop.

I noticed Film Comment because it had a cover story on Quentin Tarantino's "Once Upon a Time....in Hollywood." 

Although I've never liked Tarantino's films all that much, "Once Upon a Time....in Hollywood" has stirred my interest. I suppose it's because I loved the violent TV and movie Westerns the film references, and have long been fascinated by the 1960s conflict between the old and new Hollywood that the film registers. I've also always loved book, movies and TV shows about the glitzy, noirish Los Angeles, whether in the 1930s or 1960s.

Film Comment Editor-in-Chief Nicholas Rapold gives a good wrap-up of Tarantino's look back at Los Angeles in 1969, but I particularly liked Howard Hampton's sidebar on TV's influence on the production.

As Hampton points out, a group of marginal actors in 1960s Hollywood, including Bruce Dern, Jack Nicholson, James Coburn and Warren Oates, eventually gained fame in the edgy, revolutionary New Hollywood films. Hampton finds an obscure model for Leonardo DiCaprio's Rick Dalton: Ty Hardin, who starred in a TV series called Bronco.

An imaginative magazine produced for a selective audience like Film Comment offer sthe best hope for print's future. While refined general interest magazines like Harper's, the New Yorker, the Atlantic and National Geographic battle on, general interest magazines sink.

Film Comment has a strong Internet presence, but its crisp writing and editing, inviting layouts and vivid photography make a statement for print.

Will Jimmy Buffett demolish Fiddlin' John Carson?

Jimmy Buffett's company wants to build a monstrous Margaritaville development in downtown Atlanta, destroying the building where Fiddlin' John Carson in 1923 recorded the first national country hit.

The Margaritaville plan sounds like the kind of high-concept debacle that has plagued the city for years. Remember Planet Hollywood and the ESPN Zone? These urban pleasure palaces sizzle for a few years, then fizzle out, leaving a hole in the urban fabric.

Buffett's development across the street from Centennial Olympic Park would bring the destruction of a small building at 152 Nassau Street where Carson recorded "That Little Old Log Cabin in the Lane" in 1923, along with "The Old Hen Cackled and the Rooster's Going to Crow."

Famed New York talent scout Ralph Peer recorded country singer and fiddler Carson and several local black performers at the building for Okeh Records. Despite Carson's wavering voice and the recording's scratchiness, "The Little Old Log Cabin" caught fire. The song's success led to a flourishing Atlanta recording industry, which eventually faded away as country music found a permanent home in Nashville.

Unless architect and downtown resident Kyle Kessler can succeed with a last-ditch effort to save the 152 Nassau building, the original site of Atlanta's recording industry will disappear, according to an excellent article Tuesday by the AJC's Jeremy Turley. Despite Kessler's online petition that has received 8,000 signatures, the Buffett company is preparing for the imminent demolition of the 152 Nassau building, Turley reported.

A deal with former Mayor Kasim Reed led to the Margaritaville developers receiving building permits for a 21-story Wyndham Hotel and time-share condos above an amusement park, according to the article. The city planning department sought to stop the project, but the developers threatened to sue. Reed then told the company he would support the plan if the luxury hotel were included, the newspaper reported.

Designed to draw aging affluent Parrotheads, the development will be near the giant downtown Ferris wheel, State Farm Arena, Mercedes-Benz Stadium, the College Football Hall of Fame, the World of Coca-Cola and the Civil Rights Museum.

Despite these attractions, someone would have to be pretty wasted in Margaritaville to buy a time-share in downtown Atlanta. The Buffet company's plan contains all the signs of those Atlanta developments that have crashed in the past.

Ace AJC columnist Bill Torpy sounded the alarm in May about the threat to the Nassau Street building. The preservationists don't want to prevent Buffett fans from having their fun. They only ask that the Margaritaville plan incorporate the building in some way.

But the developers say they need to destroy the building to install a garbage facility, or a restaurant "grease trap," according to the AJC.

The preservationists point out the irony of a Buffett enterprise removing a major landmark of Atlanta's music history. Buffett began his career performing in small Atlanta clubs, according to Torpy and others.

The building on Nassau street isn't that distinctive, and has housed many businesses over the years, including a "Gone With the Wind Museum."

The Buffet corporation could easily find a way to preserve the place, perhaps as a museum of Atlanta's musical history, including Buffett's career.

The country pioneer Carson has a darker tie to Atlanta's history. He stirred anti-Semitic fervor by performing on the street during the Leo Frank murder trial in 1913. Frank, whose innocence has been established by historians, was convicted for the slaying of Mary Phagan and subsequently lynched by a mob in Cobb County.

Along with its place in music history, the 152 Nassau Building should be preserved as one of the last downtown sites dating back to that turbulent era of Atlanta's past.

 

 

 

 

 

Musician Doug Kershaw's "The Ragin' Cajun" a story of redemption

Louisiana performer Doug Kershaw's "The Ragin' Cajun" finds joy and redemption in a rough life of setbacks and self-destruction.

To be published in October by Mercer University Press, "The Ragin' Cajun" tells the common musician's story of numbing performances, drug addiction, poor life choices and unscrupulous managers and record producers.

The book stands apart from other rock memoirs in the literary quality of its revelations about Cajun culture.

Along with the Cajuns' well-noted joy, humor and musical talent, the book discloses the culture's violence, depression and propensity for addiction.

Sadly, it also details how cultural repression and existence on the edges of American life led to deep feelings of inferiority. In recent years, Cajun music, literature and cuisine have found long-overdue recognition.

Written with the novelist Cathie Pelletier, the book brings light to a little known and vanished way of life. Kershaw spent his first years on a houseboat on Louisiana's Mermentau River, where his Cajun family eked out a primitive swamp existence before World War II.

His father, Daddy Jack, precariously supported the family as a fisherman and trapper while his mother, Mama Rita was mired in punishing work. Their life seems medieval in its lack of modern comforts.

Unlike the happy portrait in Kershaw's signature song "Louisiana Man," his father was a violent drunk who frequently beat his mother and threatened the rest of the family. In a gruesome and gripping account, Kershaw tells how his father killed himself with a shotgun.

Despite Daddy Jack's violence, Kershaw remembers him fondly as a hard-working, resourceful man who generally treated him with kindness. Father Jack also gave his son the gift of music. And, the inspiration for "Louisiana Man," one of the best songs of the rock era:

"He's got fishing lines strung across the Louisiana river,
got to catch a big fish for us to eat.
Setting traps in the swamps catching anything he can,
he gotta make a livin', he's a Louisiana man,
Gotta make a livin',  he's a Louisiana man."

The book's Dickensien story gains narrative power when Mama Rita moves the family to the small town of Lake Arthur. There, Kershaw, who began playing a fiddle fashioned from a cigar box, launches his musical career playing "Jole Blon" and other Cajun favorites outside a cafe.

The strength and perseverance of Mama Rita were a constant rock for Kershaw until her death. The book relates how she gained her own slice of fame from Kershaw's career.

Kershaw and his brothers Pee-Wee and Rusty begin playing in the rough Cajun clubs in Jennings, La. Eventually, Kershaw and his brother Rusty find regional success on radio and early TV. Beset by unscrupulous managers, the Kershaws make their first recordings and land regular engagements at clubs along the Highway 90 strip around Lake Charles near the Texas border.

Now performing as a duo, Rusty and Doug record a couple of hits and land a spot on the most famous country show, the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, Tenn. The book gives recognition to the group as rock pioneers. Fusing traditional Cajun music with country and the blues, Rusty and Doug helped create rockabilly, the driving force of early rock.

After Rusty decides to leave the duo, Doug Kershaw continues as solo performer and songwriter in Nashville, hanging around with other future stars like Kris Kristofferson and Roger Miller. As with other musicians rising to fame, Kershaw gets hooked on drugs, in his case alcohol, amphetamines and eventually cocaine. Apparently he avoided heroin, which has wrecked so many musicians' lives.

Battling his addictions, poor business decisions and disastrous first two marriages, Kershaw perseveres and achieves success, thanks to an appearance along with Bob Dylan on Johnny Cash's national TV show. From there, Kershaw's fame grows as a frequent performer on TV, in Las Vegas, and in international concerts. He also records several hits.

But his personal life collapses. As financial worries mount, his addictions worsen. Later sections of the book grow less appealing. Brutally honest, Kershaw gives an unpleasant self-portrait of an unreliable, abusive personality. He explodes at band members and gains a bad reputation for showing up late for performances. His volatile behavior led to the hackneyed nickname echoed in the book's title.

Redemption comes with his marriage to his third wife, Pam. Despite starting a family with Pam, Kershaw continues his destructive behavior until Pam insists that he change his ways. With that dose of tough love, Kershaw at last finds tranquillity.

Assisted by his co-author Pelletier, the 83-year-old Kershaw tells his story in a frank, sometimes vulgar voice. His accounts of seeking to overcome addictions can be grueling, but he remains engaging even at the worst moments.

His earthy humor and folksy anecdotes reflect the Cajun joie de vivre that enabled them to overcome poverty and persecution. The book displays the story-telling power of "Louisiana Man."

The Mercer University Press deserves praise for publishing "Ragin' Cajun," which belongs among lauded recent memoirs by Bruce Springsteen, Keith Richards, Bob Dylan and Neil Young. Along with giving an in-depth look at the music business, Kershaw and Pelletier illuminate a forgotten segment of Cajun culture.

The book provides a valuable discography, including recordings Kershaw made with his brother Rusty, who died in 2001. Kershaw's extensive recordings, including those of traditional Cajun songs, warrant in-depth exploration.

With his Cajun novelty numbers and crowd-pleasing antics, Kershaw has been discounted as merely a niche musician. A dynamic performer, stylish songwriter, distinctive singer and accomplished fiddle player, Kershaw stands with the recently deceased Dr. John, Allen Toussaint and Fats Domino in the top tier of Louisiana musicians.

And, as this book richly illustrates, among the state's best storytellers.

 

On the Friday before the Museum of Modern Art's Closure: Miro, Pollock and Frank O'Hara

On the Friday before the Museum of Modern Art's closure for four months, crowds swelled throughout the afternoon.

A blockbuster exhibit, Joan Miro's "Birth of the World," spoke warnings from the era of Franco and Hitler. After the startling realism of his early paintings, Miro's work grew more ominous and fantastical, giving witness to the age of the dictators.

Viewers stood transfixed before Miro's monumental "Birth of the World," which expresses the fragility of our earth and existence. The elemental objects of the painting, emerging from a swirling gray background, speak of our life's delicate balance, that time is running out to save our planet.

The great masterpieces on the fifth floor drew huge crowds, desperate for final glimpses of works that would be shuttered until October. What shifts in history would occur before then? Would the world even exist?

Van Gogh's transcendent "Starry Night" drew the most visitors, as well as Monet's "Water Lillies" mural. The people stood in silence, as if saying farewell to loved ones. Young and old banded together, some taking Iphone photos to carry with them during the long season without art.

At the Jackson Pollock gallery, I felt the presence of Frank O'Hara, the MOMA curator who found enduring poetry in his lunch hour walks around Manhattan. Both men had been killed by accidents on Long Island.

Now, years later, the museum was expanding for a new era. The museum claims it will be able to show more of its collection, that it will serve a larger segment of the public. More and more New York institutions seek to cater to the wealthy.

I was a young man when I first visited MOMA, stunned by Pablo Picasso's "Guernica." Now, the time of the dictators had returned, the world was again in peril. I headed down the escalator and walked into the overcast afternoon. On Friday afternoon, people rushed past, headed toward the weekend.

Glenda Jackson's "King Lear" on Broadway to close early

The Broadway production of "King Lear" starring Glenda Jackson will close a month early.

Producer Scott Rudin announced that the show at the Cort Theater will have its final performance on June 9, The New York Times reported. The production had been scheduled to end on July 7.

The closure comes a year after the 83-year-old Jackson won her first Tony Award, given for her performance in Edward Albee's "Three Women."

First appearing on Broadway in the 1960s production of "Marat/Sade," the two-time Academy Award winner Jackson has been a favorite of New York critics and audiences.

Even Jackson's immense star power couldn't save a troubled production. Director Sam Gold's innovative interpretation of Shakespeare's 400-year-old tragedy received mixed reviews.

Nor did Jackson draw raves for her portrayal of Lear. She shockingly failed to receive a Tony nomination, with Ruth Wilson's dual performance as the Fool and Cordelia receiving the production's sole nomination.

Wilson's work fulfills a fascinating theory by some scholars that Shakespeare saw the characters as the same person. Both possess a pure love for the mentally failing king, and confront him with searing but healing truth.

London audiences were more receptive to a woman playing Shakespeare's most complex role. Jackson was lauded for her performance as the tormented king in director Deborah Warner's hit production at the Old Vic.

Lear is riven by masculine conflicts of pride, loss of authority and the waning of strength and sexual potency. I assume that Jackson portrays Lear as a primarily male figure, "every inch a king." The gender shouldn't matter. What counts is acting ability.

Gender is one of Shakespeare's major obsessions. Until the era of Charles II, boys played female roles. In "As You Like It" and other plays,women disguise themselves as men, exploring the comedy that rises from the confusion of mixed identities. Rather than radical, Jackson's performance continues Shakespeare traditions.

Shakespeare tragedies have been popular on Broadway, even in the recent past. Gold's production sounds difficult for audience comprehension, but the chance to see a great actress perform the theater's greatest role should be irresistible for theater-goers. The fizzling of Lear on Broadway is a troubling sign of cultural deterioration and the desire for unchallenging escapist entertainment.

 

 

New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival shows city's resilience

I once more knew what it means to miss New Orleans when I read Jay Pareles' New York Times article Thursday about the 50th Jazz and Heritage Festival, which begins this weekend in the Crescent City.

While New Orleans is known for its dysfunctional local government, high murder rate and economic distress, the Jazz and Heritage Festival is an overwhelming success.

As Pareles reports, the festival each year raises $3 million for the nonprofit foundation that puts on the event, which covers two weekends. The foundation uses the money for a range of educational programs and support for local musicians.

Perhaps the Jazzfest owes its popularity to being a daytime event. Going against New Orleans' reputation as a city that never sleeps, the Jazzfest closes each day at 7 p.m., as Pareles reported. That puts the focus on the music, rather than high-tech light shows and such.

Purists have criticized the festival for booking big names like this year's Katy Perry, but out of 688 performers, 600 are New Orleans and south Louisiana acts with mainly local followings, according to Pareles.

This year, a heralded appearance by the Rolling Stones stirred excitement, but the venerable group had to drop out because of Mick Jagger's heart surgery. Then replacement Fleetwood Mac canceled because of some mysterious illness suffered by Stevie Nicks. Now, Widespread Panic will perform.

The event began in 1970 at Beauregard Square, later known as Congo Square, a slave market where jazz originated with the slaves' chanting and dances. Growing success after a few struggling years led to the event moving to the New Orleans Fairgrounds. Jesus, I also remember betting on horse races there as a young man. I attended several of the early festivals at the fairgrounds, but didn't go to another until years later, when the event resumed after Hurricane Katrina.

Along with the music, the festival offers a great selection of Cajun, Creole and other varieties of New Orleans food. Sometimes I think of going just to get another helping of jambalaya.

You can have the Stones, Fleetwood Mac and Widespread Panic. I'm homesick to see New Orleans performers Irma Thomas, the Meters, the Neville Brothers and so on. I'd especially love to see master pianist Ellis Marsalis perform April 28 with his sons Wynnton, Branford, Delfeayo and Jason. Now in his 80s, Ellis played a big part in the festival's early success.

Every year when the Jazzfest rolls around, I think of my late friend Loftin, who had a complete collection of Jazz Festival posters. Hard to imagine that this will be the fifth Jazzfest he'll miss.

This year's poster shows the family of performers who have appeared at Jazz Fest, including those no longer with us like Professor Longhair and Fats Domino.

Many believe New Orleans won't survive. Old and new generations of Jazzfest musicians say otherwise.

Affirmations of music, from Anne-Sophie Mutter to Hal Blaine and Lester Young

The New York Times and Wall Street Journal presented affirmations of music Thursday morning amid the newspapers' reports of human disasters, political stupidity and corporate malfeasance.

Two pieces hallmarked innovative musicians' contributions: a WSJ tribute to sax virtuoso Lester Young , and The Times' look at 12 hit songs defined by the beat of ace session drummer Hal Blaine.

Jazz historian John Edward Haase in the WSJ article looks at Young's ground-breaking career. Friday will be the 60th anniversary of Young's death at age 49. He was one of the many black geniuses who died too young from American racial oppression and inadequate appreciation of his art.

Billie Holiday, who made a series of essential jazz recordings with Young, died a few months later, ravaged from drugs and state harassment. She called Young "Pres," and he bestowed upon her the name, "Lady Day." They are two musical geniuses who deserved much better from their native land.

As Haase notes, Young was one of the many black jazz and blues pioneers who were born in Mississippi, transforming the state's poverty and repression into transcendent music.

He first made his mark with Count Basie's band in Kansas City, and after moving to New York increased his fame playing in clubs and recording with Holiday and others. Hasse says Young's quieter, more refined style contrasted with  that of the more raucous Coleman Hawkins, and that his artistry anticipated the emergence of Charlie Parker.

The Times' Christopher R. Weingarten looks at Blaine's drum work on 12 songs recorded by artists ranging from Phil Spector's Crystals and Ronettes to Simon & Garfunkel, Sam Cooke, Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass, the Monkees, Johnny Rivers, Nancy Sinatra,  the Byrds, the Beach Boys and the Fifth Dimension. Blaine, who died this week at age 90, was the mainstay of a group of session artists who played on nearly every recording made in Los Angeles from the 1960s through the early '80s.

Called by Blaine "The Wrecking Crew," the group played on pop recordings by Frank Sinatra, rock and soul top 40 hits, and TV series and commercial themes. They had the versatility and ability to switch from genre to genre during marathon recording sessions.

Blaine is especially remembered for his drum sequence that kicks off the Ronettes' "Be My Baby." But that assertive rat-a-tat-tat annunciation was not common; he most often was a subtle driving force underlying the songs like a steady tide. He is the latest among a group of landmark session musicians who died recently, receiving posthumous recognition for their musical contributions unheralded during their careers.

The saddest part of Blaine's New York Times obituary was the statement that his recording career waned in the 1980s when producers began using drum machines on recordings. A drum machine could never match Blaine's human touch.

For further affirmation of human creativity, the Times had two enthralling reviews of performances at New York City's Carnegie Hall. As mammoth condos and office buildings rise just blocks away, the venerated music hall asserts the best of New York as an arts center.

The great Times classical music critic Anthony Tommasini blesses a performance by the young pianist Beatrice Rana, who sailed through the daunting challenge of Chopin's 24 Etudes, mesmerizing her audience. For years, Tommasini has been among the Times writers whose byline I look for each day. He adds to my limited classical music knowledge, and makes me feel that I was with him at the performance, After his review, I will look forward to exploring Rana's recordings.

The well-known violinist Anne-Sophie Mutter also enthralled a Carnegie Hall audience with a recital based on Mozart, according to Times critic Corinna de Fonseca-Wohlheim. Mutter performed along with her longtime piano accompanist, Lambert Orkis. After their performance, Mutter returned for an encore featuring works by her former husband, Andre Previn, who died recently after a long and varied career that brought joy to millions.

Lester Young. Billie Holiday. Hal Blaine. Beatrice Rana. Anne-Sophie Mutter. Andre Previn. The inexhaustible range of music creativity gives hope for humanity, as the news pages increase our despair.

Bill Charlap Trio finds swinging heart of Leonard Bernstein classics

The Bill Charlap Trio's concert at Atlanta's McElreath Hall Thursday night displayed some of the classical music gravity that critics see as deadening to jazz.

The audience at the Atlanta Jewish Music Festival's event showed the respectful deference of symphony goers. Charlap, bass player Sean Smith and drummer Kenny Washington performed selections from the trio's album of Leonard Bernstein songs. While edging toward jazz, Bernstein remained rooted in classical traditions and musical theater.

The acoustically true concert hall next to the Atlanta History Center has a symphonic ambience that contrasts with the dark intimacy of a club like New York City's Village Vanguard, a musical home for Charlap.

Charlap and his mates found the swinging heart of upbeat Bernstein numbers like "America" from "West Side Story" and the blues core of "Big Stuff" from "Fancy Free," recorded by Billie Holiday, as Charlap noted in one of his gregarious monologues. Wistful ballads like "Somewhere" and "Some Other Time," an encore, raised the emotional level beyond exploiting the easy nostalgia of those who were young when "Westside Story" and "On the Town" arrived.

The trio's interpretations took the familiar songs down new paths, making them fresh and vital creations, not museum pieces. A few of the swinging numbers moved members of the audience to spontaneous clapping.

Displaying his virtuoso power and melodic precision, Charlap dazzled the audience. Washington excelled with a number of pulsing drum solos, and an unerring rhythm. Smith also performed several solos, showing the versatility of the bass. My only regret was that they didn't do "New York, New York," my favorite Comden-Green toe-tapper.

The appreciative audience included the 92-year-old saxophone legend Jimmy Heath, introduced by Charlap to strong applause, and H. Johnson, WABE's jazz DJ.

In the Charlap Trio's expressive take on Bernstein, classical mastery and jazz's primal force struck fire.

 

Farewell, Lee Radziwill

The Sunday New York Times' wasteland of unreadable articles yielded one piece that held my attention: a testament to Lee Radziwill's momentous life. The sister of Jackie Kennedy Onassis died Saturday at age 85, according to the Times obituary.

One of the last links to John F. Kennedy's era of glamour and international adventurism, Radziwill led a multi-hued life of celebrity and dilettantism. Reading the Times obituary, I was reminded of Princess Margaret, Queen Elizabeth's sister who enjoyed a similar life of aristocratic swanning among the smart set.

The youngest daughter of swashbuckling financier "Black Jack" Beauvoir and socialite Janet Norton Lee, Radziwill like her famous sister grew up in the privileged atmosphere of elite schools, finely furnished homes and artistic pursuits. Both Caroline Lee and Jacqueline were also given the independence to pursue professional careers. After graduating from college, they traveled together on an old-style international tour.

Lee gave staunch support to her sister after two tragedies that defined her legacy as first lady. When Jackie and JFK lost their infant son Patrick a week after he was born, Lee orchestrated Jackie's two-week retreat from public life abroad Aristotle Onassis' yacht. Lee introduced Jackie to the Greek billionaire who would become Jackie's second husband. The two sisters reportedly had a falling out over the marriage.

Following JFK's assassination soon after the child's death, Lee joined with Robert F. Kennedy in comforting and advising the widowed first lady, whose fortitude entranced the nation.

Along her marriage and divorce to Poland's Prince Stanislaw Radziwill, one of three husbands, Lee pursued careers as an actress, writer, filmmaker, interior designer and entrepreneur. She was a member of an international circle of fame and wealth that included Truman Capote and the Rolling Stones.

Among Radziwill's most memorable accomplishments was the "Grey Gardens" documentary about her eccentric aunt Edith Ewing Bouvier Beale and her daughter,Edith Bouvier Beale, who lived in aristocratic squalor in a rambling, dilapidated home in East Hampton, New York. The scenes of Lee arriving at the Beales' squalid home and their resistance to her rehabilitation efforts make for great comic-tragic cinema.

While living in Jackie Kennedy Onassis' shadow was a tough act, Radziwill carried it out with grace, style and imagination. Like her famous sister, Lee was one of the great ladies of her time.

SunTrust merger ends long association with Atlanta

SunTrust's $66 billion banking merger with BB&T closes a defining chapter in Atlanta's history.

The as yet unnamed corporation will place its headquarters in Charlotte, the North Carolina city that supplanted Atlanta years ago as the Southeast's leading banking center.

While SunTrust will keep investment banking operations in Atlanta, the loss of the Fortune 500 company's headquarters is a blow for Atlanta's always fragile corporate self-image.

Echoing Atlanta pillar C&S Bank's fall years ago to the Charlotte upstart that turned into Bank of America, SunTrust will be subsumed into BB&T, whose Winston-Salem headquarters also will shift to Charlotte. With assets of $440 billion, the new entity will be the nation's sixth largest bank corporation.

SunTrust has deep and tightly entwined roots with Atlanta. Founded as Trust Co. in 1891 by many of Atlanta's pioneer business leaders seeking to raise a New South metropolis from the ashes of the Civil War, the bank fostered a close partnership with Coca-Cola Co. and propelled Atlanta's 20th century emergence.

Bank President Ernest Woodruff and businessman W.C. Bradley bought Coca-Cola from founder Asa Candler in 1919, and Woodruff later installed his son, Robert W. Woodruff, as Coke's president. The younger Woodruff made Coca-Cola an iconic global brand, and Trust Co. for years held millions in the soft drink giant's stock.

The bank administered Woodruff's many altruistic projects as Atlanta's "anonymous donor" such as the gift of millions in Coke stock to Emory University in 1979. Coke's secret formula was kept in a bank vault until recently.

Along with Mills B. Lane's senior and junior's C&S Bank, Trust Co. shaped much of modern Atlanta as it grew from a regional backwater into a major  international metropolitan area.

Following a merger with Florida's Sun Banks and other purchases of regional companies, SunTrust remained headquartered in Atlanta, a foundational pillar of the business community along with Delta, Coca-Cola and Southern Co.

Despite Atlanta's downfall as a banking center decades ago, the city has thrived, drawing a number of Fortune 500 companies and millions of new residents. But the loss of SunTrust headquarters to Charlotte will hurt Atlanta's national image.

That follows Colorado-based Liberty Media's purchase of the Braves from local hero Ted Turner, and the loss of CNN headquarters to New York, small ripples in Atlanta's economy but wounds to the city's esteem. The deal also comes after Amazon's snub of Atlanta for a second regional headquarters.

SunTrust trumpeted its local ties by purchasing naming rights to the Braves' stadium when the team recently moved to Cobb County. The stadium will be renamed, perhaps with whatever name the new banking company's brand consultants create.

Like Rich's and Davison's, the SunTrust name will disappear from Atlanta's landscape, another significant endpoint in the city's history.