Sunday, March 8, 2015

Blog #5 – Jazz’s History: A Dynamically Migrating Genre

Coming into this class, I had listened to some of the greats of jazz that people will refer to when their mind initially approaches the genre, including Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Charlie Parker, and Louis Armstrong. For white jazz musicians, I knew of Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman. However, there was obviously a slew of musicians that I had never even heard of, including Dizzy Gillespie, Fats Waller, Bix Beiderbecke, Fletcher Henderson, and I will even admit Duke Ellington.
When I thought of jazz, I assumed it held more than just a musical form, but was seen as an art that embodied the entire lives of those devoted to it, seen in every outlet of people’s personality. Jazz musicians in my mind always had that stereotypical sharply dressed look, with a pinstriped suit and slanted fedora. For instance, in Davis’s early career, he “started caring about the way I looked, trying to look hip and everything…” (Davis, 32).

            I had also assumed (which was reinforced through the class) that New York played a critical role in the success of jazz as a music industry from a commercial perspective. Numerous artists after the 1920ssaw New York as a mecca for opportunity, including Davis, who claimed “I had learned all I could from playing around St. Louis, knew it was time to move on. So I packed up my stuff…took a train up to New York City…” (Davis, 50).

            Another key aspect reinforced in this class was the role of improvisation. I thought jazz was inseparable from this description, but did not realize the oscillating effect it held in its history, between its diminishing presence in swing to full force seen in bebop. Davis highlights its importance in his music, as he “didn’t write out the music for Kind of Blue, but brought in sketches for what everybody was supposed to play because I wanted a lot of spontaneity…Everything was a first take, which indicates the level everyone was playing on” (Davis, 234). Separately, I did assume a clear understanding of the inevitable social influence jazz held on racial tensions. I had a good prior understanding of the music’s necessity for survival through the struggle of slavery with instances such as the Congo Square, but did not know it possessed such similar parallels across time, with systems like the contracts of Chicago nightclubs reminding some of plantation life. On top of that, New York’s migration down Manhattan in Davis’s eyes showed these conflicts, as “a lot of white people, though, didn’t like what was going on on 52nd Street. They didn’t understand what was happening with the music. They thought that they were being invaded by niggers from Harlem, so there was a lot of racial tension around bebop” (Davis, 68). I did not realize (for jazz specifically) that parallels of this cultivation through social conflict could be drawn to modern times events like Leimert Park.

            Most importantly, though, I had never thought of jazz from a geographical perspective in terms of its history. I knew that New Orleans, Chicago, and New York were all key players in its cultivation and transformation to a worldly stage, but never viewed them from a chronological perspective. On top of that, I had no idea of the eye-opening role Paris held as a reverie for greater equality and tolerance compared to the United States at the time. My understanding of the history of jazz was fundamentally changed by this new perspective.


Commented on Steven Bennett’s blog:  http://stevenbennettblst14.blogspot.com/

"I also found remarkable new facts on the roles of Juliard and classical teachings and their effects on jazz. I think your evidence pointing to Miles Davis hits that point with good support well. The contrast to that and the presence of mainstream cultivating from hole-in-the-wall settings further drives that ironic contradiction well."

Friday, March 6, 2015

Blog #4, The Interdependence of Art and Community

In Robin Kelley’s biography of Thelonius Monk, Kelley explores the classical relationship of nature vs nurture in its effect on maturation. Kelley divulges on the significant role that Monk’s childhood environment San Juan Hill—a New York neighborhood on the Upper West side of Manhattan, now known as Lincoln Square.

San Juan Hill had great conflict in the early twentieth century, as “the combination of anti-black violence, police inaction during the 1905 riots, and deteriorating housing conditions spurred a mass exodus out of San Juan Hill into the next up-and-coming black neighborhood; Harlem" (Kelley, 17). This conflict is clear in Monk’s own accounts as he “‘did all that fighting with ofays [whites] when I was a kid. We had to fight to make it so we could walk the streets. There's no reason why I should go through that Black Power shit right now'" (Kelley, 19).

This dangerous environment incited a necessary outlook of individualistic survival in Monk, seen not only in his work, but his interests and behavior. The violent environment catalyzed his mother’s push to attend church—a place of worship often regarded for an individual’s solace—which “proved to be another critical source of Monk’s musical knowledge. Barbara taught her son a few hymns on the piano, and every once in a while Thelonius would accompany her when she sang at Reverend W. A. Johnson’s church on West 61st Street.” (Kelley, 31). This musical religious influence was visible in Monk’s persona permanently, for “when Monk was on the stand, the club was holy ground…” (Kelley, 249).
Additionally, the necessity of self-reliance for success in the San Juan Hill community drove Monk’s music into its well-known but highly unusual style. Kelley suggests that “it was this world of experim­ental arts and letters that put Monk on a much larger cultural map” (Kelley, 226). In terms of his musical talent, Monk was fully aware of his own abilities, "not bashful about saying so…'Didn't have to study hard-- used to amaze all the teachers! No one had to make me study, I was gifted, you know—music’” (Kelley, 26).

Combining all of Monk’s influences into one perspective makes it clear that New York had a permanent mark on his background and personality. When one claims “Jazz is New York,” they need only turn to Monk—a hallmark of the jazz culture—and he himself was "raised by his mother, and by New York City" (Kelley, 24).

Contrasting San Juan Hill, a similar scene can be seen in Leimert Park of Los Angeles at the end of the century. Leimert Park’s infancy can be paralleled to San Juan Hill with its high concentration of African Americans and deeply rooted internal conflicts, depicted most notably in the 1992 Los Angeles Riots, with thousands injured over a police brutality incident. However, instead of a mass migration to avoid the issue and start somewhere new like the San Juan Hill to Harlem movement, Leimert Park reinvented itself. It became a thriving population sparked by the eternal notion that jazz has the power to reflect poor circumstances, and transform them into humor or entertainment through music and art that tightens the surrounding community. Examples of this notion include stores like Dick’s on 5th Street, the World Stage restaurant, and Rams’ studio art gallery and museum. People gathered at all hours to dance and play music at some of these locations, just like the reverie of the Congo Square held in antebellum slavery. While San Juan Hill possessed multiple jazz nightclubs, they held an aura of a stage for the individual to perform, not a room for compilations of communal improvisation and celebration like that of Leimert Park.

With the varying outcomes of these two communities in the face of adversity in mind, I argue that art—particularly jazz—and community, when approached appropriately, reflect each other’s traits. San Juan Hill rejected its local issues, creating a need for individualistic survival viewed from the bebop era and soloist success, especially with Thelonius Monk. Leimert Park, however, united together against its issue, cultivating a cooperative jazz community. The two possess an interdependence that cannot be isolated.

Commented on Vivek's blog: http://vivekpatelblst14.blogspot.com/


I really enjoyed your account of Monk's transition into San Juan Hill and the effect that the local influence of the community held on him in his childhood. I think for Leimert Park your example is of 5th St. Dick's is very appropriate, and your details of the tone its establishment placed on the community reinforce your argument well. Your summary highlights the general notion of your argument well, but I think if you expanded it slightly to really highlight your points a little further, it would bring the piece together even more cohesively.
Good work!