Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Reflections


A big part of my impression of this class is the emphasis we placed on taking a more holistic approach to jazz history by thinking a lot about how jazz is a product of its total environment and also how communities and cultures were, in turn, created by jazz.  This process is a part of what Bahktin’s dialogic imagination seeks to describe.  My first encounter with the dialogic theory, however, was through its use as a counterpoint to Ken Burns’ theory that superlative individuals make jazz.  The dialogic theory instead claimed that the creation of jazz takes place as a dialogue between community and performer.

From the start, the idea of superlative individuals developing jazz appealed more to me, as this certainly seemed to be the means by which innovation takes place in classical music.  Particularly, coming into this class, I held the general notion that composers were the creators of new musical styles.  Certainly the now ubiquitous concept of the singer-songwriter shows a synthesis between composer and musician but it was in jazz that I first witnessed the spontaneous molding and creation of new styles that took place entirely through improvisation, without much conscious desire on the part of the musician to move in a particular direction.  Louie Armstrong is a prime example of a musician, who through his solo playing alone, had the power to alter the sound of a band and ultimately of the entire jazz soundscape (King Oliver, 48).

I think this was possible because of the dynamics of the jazz band and the extent to which this allowed individual musical “personalities” to emerge in the sound.  I underestimated how sensitive and adaptive these musicians were to each other on stage and consequently just how much the performance of a piece of jazz music depended on the style and idiosyncrasies of the musicians playing it.  Coltrane talks about what a dominating musical presence Thelonious Monk had on the piano and how Monk‘s leaving the piano for a few minutes completely altered the dynamic of the band and allowed for experimentation.  (Robin Kelley, 231)  Jazz is unique in allowing the essence of each musician to shine so transparently through the sound and I think this is a part of the reason why community and other non-musical aspects of the environment are so apparent in jazz.  In this respect, the evolution of jazz can sometimes be seen as the sum of disparate cultural and musical experiences different musician bring to the table.

The above describes the development of my ideas about how the dialogic theory shapes jazz music. The evolution of these ideas is paralleled by the changes, as we shifted our focus from city to city, in my understanding of how the theories of the creation of jazz through “genius” or through a community in dialogue, support and oppose each other.    From the beginning, Chicago provided one the strongest arguments for the creation of jazz primarily by superlative individuals.   The influence of the community was surely present there, for the sound drew heavily on that of their New Orleans predecessors, but, for example, individual genius seemed like the absolute prerequisite to the revolution Louie Armstrong began.  His authority as a soloist stood out glaringly in King Oliver’s band and this ‘hotness’ was not lost in translation as many young white musicians attempted their own imitations of jazz (Chicagoans, 159). 

On the other hand, I knew the fusion of ragtime and blues in New Orleans and also later the creation of New York stride piano and the Kansas city sound were all evidence of a new style emerging in the collision between two cultures, with no single musician apparently leading the charge and the music evolving naturally within a community.  So clearly it was not necessary, for a truly “superlative” individual, whose vision and talent were so beyond his contemporaries, ie. Armstrong, for jazz to grow up and assume a new sound. 

Modern jazz is rife with examples of both theories at work.  Bebop was developed amongst a small community of friends inspired by the visions of members Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie.  (Miles, chapter 3) Their music was at its ideological core, one espousing individualism and anti-conformism, a direct reaction to what had become a stale and formulaic swing scene.  (Gioia, 190) One of their contemporaries, Thelonious Monk, also developed a style around the bebop sound, but one that was also completely unique and idiosyncratic of Monk as an artist and person.  Although both of these styles developed in tandem and were very much related, these musicians were also “superlative” in their unique approach and so it seems as if their style was the result of collaboration amongst a small community of very talented individuals.

And so my rather ambivalent conclusion at the end of this is simply that both theories of the creation of jazz must coexist at some level.  There are certainly entire styles that could not have emerged without one or two key musicians but also instances when no single musician could be held largely responsible for a development and the results really were a collaborative effort.

Monday, March 4, 2013

A Different Rebellion


In a 1969 interview the 52 year old Thelonious Monk notably said that he had “no reason..[to] go through that Black Power shit now”, having already fought more than his fair share of battles against racism growing up in San Juan Hill, New York (19).  Indeed, San Juan Hill at the time was a community of poor and diverse, but mutually unfriendly, “general laborers” living in filthy, decrepit apartments (16).  Different races were often geographically separated in blocks (18) and as Monk recollects “we had to fight…to walk the streets”(19).   There was a palpable anti-black sentiment that began often from the very bottom with white teachers and policemen and culminated locally with dramatic race riots that gave San Juan Hill a reputation for violence (17).  Even among blocks of black people there was tension between those from the South, West Indies, and those born and raised in New York. (18)

Amidst this adversity, however, sprang up a tight-knit but also culturally diffuse community of primarily black people that was “like a small town unto itself; every circle of friends seemed to overlap”, which would form the basis for many of Monk’s early musical experiences. (35)  The amount of variety was apparent from the start.  His first piano teacher was a Jewish neighborhood musician from whom Monk was mainly learning European classical music (26) while at home he was constantly absorbing Caribbean music from the West Indians (23) and ragtime and stride from local black musicians like Alberta Simmons who personally tutored him in piano playing (27).  His mom, who had a rich background in gospels and spirituals also provided a rich church music heritage which Monk would later specifically cite as the influence for parts of his performance like the unusual dancing (232).  As an individual, an important part of his development as a young man took place in the local community center, “a second home” for local black youth that offered various recreational and musical opportunities. (28) 

A sense of this community would remain with Monk throughout his life in various forms, such as through his nurturing wife Nellie, or his friendship with like-minded musicians or with the white baroness Pannonica who would aid him at many points. (Lecture, 2/28)  The support of these people would give Monk a personal security that is evident in his wry humor, aloofness, and in his adoption of a somewhat alternate masculinity (232), one that is expressive and sensitive. (2/28)  All this is nicely illustrated by his humorous, rather than overtly indignant response, that “everybody wants to be young”, to Larry Ridley’s complaint about “whites calling us `boys' and stuff like that” (417).  

His personality and way of dealing with discrimination would also inform his artistry.  When Thelonious Monk defiantly states in a 1959 interview that “[his] music is not a social comment on discrimination or poverty”, Robin Kelley interprets this not as a rejection of politics but rather a defense of artistry.  (249)  Monk’s music was not quite the metaphysical rebellion used to describe the activism of his contemporaries, like that of writer Richard Wright, in which “[one] attacks a shattered world in order to demand unity from it.” (Search for Beliefs, 21)  His approach is seen through an anecdote in which he cures his wife’s dissatisfaction with an imperfect wall ornament by deliberately accentuating the imperfection. (Lecture, 2/28) Monk embraces his frustration with an unjust universe by absorbing its dissonances, irrationality, into aspects of his art, his personality, and the ideology of his musical community and this in turn inspires a new community of followers which transcend the racism he had not sought to fight head on. 

By the late 50’s his art had attracted but also shaped, an entire community of modernist artists who “found in Monk’s angular sounds and startling sense of freedom a musical parallel or complement to their own experiments” (226).  They likewise were fascinated by the beauty of dissonance and irrationality.  His tenure at the Five’s Spot, especially, transformed the bar into a hot-spot of jazz where black and white intermingled in the audience (228) and turned him into a “sort of religious or sacred figure” (232), whose eccentricities were seen as the answer to “times of standardization and bland conformism.” (255)

However, shortly after the zenith of his popularity, in 1958, Monk was detained by police who found his company of another white woman (Pannonica) suspicious and after refusing to cooperate, he was beaten, his property searched without warrant, and his cabaret card confiscated (254).  This event was very much akin to Arthur Miller’s definition of tragedy in which “the human spirit [finds] itself caught within a scheme of things that degrades it” (Search for Beliefs, 19) and in this respect his continued strategy of subversion through art is poignant but also very natural for someone in his position.  Ultimately it would be a member of the jazz community that would offer Monk a new job and opportunity after the loss of his cabaret card (256).  





*The citations of the form (n) with no apparent source are all from Robin Kelley's Thelonious Monk in order to reduce word count.  823 words including citations.

Monday, February 18, 2013

Tension in the Swing Era


     By the mid-1930's, jazz had moved to the forefront of the American mainstream and the struggle to reconcile the notion of separate but equal with the precepts of a country that called itself the land of freedom and opportunity was becoming apparent.  Specifically, the current of social integration was changing the way jazz was played, heard, and marketed yet “the disparity between [black and white musicians] increased” (Swing Changes, 122)  and this contrast now made the issue of race within jazz more explicit than ever before.

     As with Duke Ellington’s tenure in the Cotton Club, the late 20's saw some of the first instances of black musicians playing in white clubs
.  (Lecture, 2/14/2013) Integration was also encouraged by the radio which created the first national mass culture while introducing musicians to one another (Swing Changes, 107) in a way that, provided you could get on the radio, was indiscriminate of race.  These interactions led to dance trends with both white and black influences, like the jitterbug, which were popular in unprecedented scale and certainly made the dangers of social miscegenation more palpable. (Lecture, 2/14/2013)  The 1930s also awakened the mainstream white jazz fan, who in a previous age would have been considered uncouth but now spoke louder and more freely than his black counterpart. 

     This allowed, during the mid 30's, for white involvement to increasingly be a part of jazz production at almost every level.  Black big bands were regularly denied patronage from clubs, radios, and other venues, suffered from reduced demand after the popularization of the radio (Gioia, 128), and furthermore, required proportionately larger funds to sustain paychecks and equipment (Swing Changes, 106).  In the harsh economic climate of the 1930's Depression, reliance on white businessmen, who were better connected, to find opportunities was necessary for a big band’s survival. (103)  However, as seen through the example of Duke Ellington and his white manager Irving Mills, in this context blacks and whites were working on equal footing as colleagues.

     White influence also manifested itself in the phenomenon of the white jazz critic, a liberal typically leftist group of young men whose “dominant trope… [was] hailing America as a land of racial equality and opportunity.” (Swing Changes, 75)  As part of this agenda, they promoted in their magazines the debate over whether blacks or whites played better jazz, (78) which culminated dramatically with the Benny Goodman vs. Chick Webb battle at the Savoy.  One particularly influential jazz critic, John Hammond, was also a businessman who originally sponsored talented acts, regardless of race, like those of Benny Goodman and Fletcher Henderson. (Gioia, 140) He ignited racial controversy in persuading Benny Goodman to use black musicians during a performance at Carnegie Hall, a first at the time.  (Swing Changes, 55) He is also known for authoring an editorial that chastised Duke Ellington’s failure to use his position of esteem in the jazz world to seek a more equal workplace for his fellow black musicians, bringing racial issues further to the attention of the public. (52)

     The liberalist political alignment of these critics emphasized the threat to “established cultural values” that the black jazz musicians they supported had “unconsciously issu[ed].” (53) Jazz came to be emblematic of a sort of political and ideological radicalism.  The mainstream adoption of jazz during the 1930's was demonstrating that blacks had ”unique powers of spontaneous artistic creativity” (53) and the exposure these, often well-educated and articulate (Fletcher Henderson, 104) bandleaders like Fletcher Henderson or Duke Ellington received begged the question of whether separate but equal was really consistent with American principles.  These issues were brought into the limelight with The Scottsboro case of 1931, in which several black teenagers were unfairly convicted of rape. (Lecture, 2/14/2013)   Even in its own time, this case was cited as an example of overt racism that led to a miscarriage of justice.

     Meanwhile, the Popular Front, which was loosely a collection of leftist and communist groups that formed against the growing fascism in Europe, sought to ally itself with other oppressed minorities, particularly the black people of America. (Lecture, 2/14/2013)   As part of this effort, The Communist Party of the USA preached its own brand of anti-racism, an essentially anti-fascist ideal they claimed, to whites through appreciation of Black culture and jazz music.  This of course would have furthered the perception of jazz as a music of rebellion but at the same time made some whites more aware of struggle of the African American in a white society.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Jazz in the 20s


        The evolution of jazz from the New Orleans ensemble style, to the “hot” club music that increasing emphasized the role of the soloist, and then to Swing, is suggestive of the corresponding shift in the center of Jazz music from New Orleans to Chicago and eventually to New York.  New York may have produced its own unique fusion of Northern and Southern influences in the form of Stride piano, but its late beginnings in improvisation and blues intonation are largely indebted to the arrival of southern bands before whom, one musician claimed “there wasn’t an Eastern musician who could really play the blues” (Fletcher Henderson, 101).  Louis Armstrong’s Chicago style playing, which “represented the Western style of jazz” (103), was similarly disseminated in New York during his 1924 tenure in the Fletcher Henderson orchestra.  Thus although it was in New York that big bands of the Swing Era emerged in the late 20s, these developments were made on a foundation that had its origin in Chicago.
Particularly in Chicago, many of the changes during the early 1900s in the American socioeconomic climate led to shifts in jazz's geographic and aesthetic locality.  The Great Migration led more than "1.5 million" (Gioia, 46) African Americans northward in search of better social treatment and jobs that were a result of expanding industrialism.  Black musicians in particular were affected by the closing of Storyville and were also accompanied by white New Orleans jazz musicians who wanted to "tap the larger economic base of the northern city" (46).  Directly related to industrialism was the development of new technology like recordings and broadcasts that allowed musicians "who offered a personal, direct...delivery....to rise to fame" (Gioia 83).
In Chicago, the new population of blacks participated heavily in mainstream culture by buying from chain stores and standard brands but ironically it made them "feel more independent and influential as a race, not more integrated" (Making a New Deal, 154) as the mass market was molded to the shape of their needs.  This created a new urban identity that "expressed race pride through jazz". (154)  How specifically this changed jazz is difficult to ascertain but it certainly changed the way jazz was perceived by the black population and the relationship between the musician and his music.
        Black musicians in Chicago at the time worked mainly in clubs, which experienced great popularity, but were often owned by gangsters who, through coercion, managed their employees tightly, and as a result the "black people who played [jazz] were never free agents."(The Jazz Slave Masters, 48)  They also faced great discriminatory injustice from the whites, whose clubs they were prohibited from entering, but whose musicians would feverishly attend black performances essentially "doing what is known in the theatrical world as stealing." (You Are Going To Be More Than Me, 68)  This is interaction is some of the most direct evidence for Bahktin's dialogic theory that art is created through the figurative dialogue between the performer and the audience. In this case, the white's attempts to imitate black jazz would create a music that would in turn provoke a response from black musicians.  This theft however played a large part in the creation of what some would call the Chicago style.
There are two somewhat distinct lineages of the type of jazz music played in Chicago during the 1920s.  The older one is essentially the progression of the New Orleans ensemble style, brought by bands like the Original Creole Orchestra and King Oliver's, which under the influence of Louis Armstrong, began to focus on improvisational soloing while pursuing a "hotter" sound that was in demand at the various dance clubs of the time.  This style is described as being highly reminiscent of the "old style" (New Orleans) but also the backdrop for "[Oliver's] protege's discovery of a freer rhythmic form" (King Oliver, 48).
A separate but related style is that of Bix Beiderbecke and other white musicians whose sound emerged from imitations of New Orleans jazz and later the Austin High Gang who attempted to imitate Beiderbecke and traditional influences like the Original Dixieland Jazz band.  Some have suggested that these imitations "[were] not a style at all" (Chicagoans, 162), but Gioia points out several distinguishing characteristics from the New Orleans style such as “a certain restless energy” and that “counterpoint lines no longer weave together." (Gioia, 72)  In particular there has been what is described as a "thrusting aggressiveness" to their music that sets them apart from "the recordings of that period by New Orleans" men (Chicagoans, 162).
  Together these styles formed what Gioia describes as "the quintessential sound of jazz." (Gioia, 71)

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Blog 1: New Orleans and Jazz


     In the late 19th century the music called jazz emerged from New Orleans as a fusion of disparate sounds, the elements usually acknowledged being ragtime, the African American blues, and Latin music.  However, The New Orleans contribution to jazz, essentially originating it, can be described in more specific terms.  A picture of the first music considered to be jazz is revealed through the accusation leveled against the Original Dixieland Jazz band that their “playing was stiff and unconvincing, some going so far as to claim that [they] did not play jazz at all, just a raucous variant of ragtime.” (Gioia pg. 37) So in one sense the first jazz music sounded considerably like a wilder and more expressive ragtime with “syncopated and blues-inflected sounds” (35), but its foundation was still ragtime.  This dynamic, which is preserved in what is historically considered the New Orleans sound, was the specific contribution of New Orleans’ musicians like Buddy Bolden and Jellyroll Morton that began jazz.

     Gioia and some other sources provide a multitude of reasons why this was innovation was likely to take place in New Orleans.  He starts with the fact that New Orleans is a melting pot of contrasting ideas, beginning with the French-Moor interaction in the 700s, and prodded further along by the city’s frequent change of ownership in the 18th century.  Beyond this, he claims that New Orleans was by nature a very musical city, describing the extent to which music, particularly that performed by an ensemble, was integrated into many commonplace events in New Orleans and  the city’s unique “fascination with celebrations, parties, and parades” (30).  The New Orleans negro also experienced an unusual leniency at the hands of the governing whites which has been attributed to the predominance of Spanish and French Catholicism in the area.  A particular manifestation of this is in the Congo Square dances which persisted for many years.  Another contributing factor is the gradual social lumping together of the creoles with negroes by the passage of various discriminatory laws, culminating with “the passage of the Louisiana Legislative Code in 1894.”(34) Creole musicians had a rich background of training in European music and greater familiarity with the ragtime form that was now operating closely with the black musician’s pursuit of a “hotter” sound.

     Keeping in mind the nature of the first jazz that emerged from New Orleans, the distinguishing feature from ragtime being the addition of feeling and rhythm from the blues, the decisive factors that led to the creation of jazz were those that allowed African American culture, of which the blues are a part, to flourish, seeing as how ragtime was already very popular at that time.  Atypical of its time, New Orleans had a majority black population of 60%, many of whom were blue collar workers who brought with them the spirituals and with that the blues tonality from their original homes.   To these people the blues corresponded to actual experiences and real emotions and hence these were the people who most naturally would integrate the blues into their music.  At the same time, the spirit of experimentation and yearning for expression that characterize early jazz were wholly representative of the concurrent New Negro phenomenon that was a reaction to the Jim Crow laws and intensifying segregation in general.  This phenomenon was certainly more pronounced in the southern states and even more so in states like Louisiana densely populated by blacks.  These conditions preeminently, but also the ones which Gioia discuss, are what led to the creation of jazz at that particular time and and place.