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!

Thursday, February 12, 2015

Blog #3, 1930's-- The Disruptive Depression in Full Swing

From the early times of ragtime to its evolution seen in New Orleans to jazz, this musical style always held a certain tagline to it—a tagline associated with African America roots. Going back to examples such as the Congo Square reinforces the notion that it was not just a certain pattern of notes correlating a race but a representation of heritage and struggle of a people. Over time these traditions diffused into the white community, with transitions including Baptist Church songs to the style of Stride to bebop.
As we have seen over time, jazz transitioned in culture not just musically but geographically. From the late nineteenth century to the early 1930's, jazz migrated from New Orleans to Chicago, New York, and even Paris, spreading its influence across the world as "European participation in the jazz world was no longer merely as a passive, if receptive, audience…European jazz musicians had made enormous strides by the mid-1930s" (Gioia, 159). Through this migration, major influences in jazz transferred to a conspicuous blending of white and black ideologies.
Simultaneously through this process, the United States faced the Great Depression. This drastic economic crash created an instant free-for-all in regards to survival and competition in the music industry. With these new conditions subtly nullifying any former indication of segregation (in the music industry), the swing era of the 1930's established an “equal” playing field between whites and blacks who battled for respectability for high class in the low-culture music seen in jazz. “Equal” since, as Gioia stated, "it is important to acknowledge the advantages enjoyed by Goodman and other white jazz artists during the era. Unlike the black bandleaders, they were more readily accepted by mainstream America…" (Gioia, 133). This difference in success is seen with people like Benny Goodman and Chick Webb, who did not have to make sacrifices for fame compared to others who lived in a different light such as Duke Ellington, who needed Irving Mills to keep a white face on his publicity.
            From an anecdotal perspective, this acknowledgement can be easily viewed in the case of Charlie Black (ironically), who as a high school student went to view Louis Armstrong perform at ***Texas University—in the South. It is clear from the article, Black did not acknowledge blacks as equals until he was directly facing a true “genius” in the art of jazz. As traveling bands distributed themselves across America and into the South, Black epitomizes the perspective of many against black musicians in a market that whites now permeated themselves into.

            Between the advent of radio, broadcasting, and recording companies up to this point, it took time to transition to the corporate capitalistic system the music industry is seen as today. Because of the slow gap to proper record-keeping, the proper credit for new techniques, musical patterns, and theories is often contested when discussing this time period for jazz, as "the relationship between black American artists and white audiences and white patrons is surely more complex than most people think...it is always difficult to tell who is copying whom."
            With all of these new factors contributing to the now open conflicts between whites and blacks, while it is impossible to justify the means by which some responded the hinted integration the jazz industry proposed, one cannot deny that the characteristics surrounding the swing era was a disruptive movement that catalyzed the clash of race for the society of the time.


Commented on Morgan's blog. Found at http://blst14morganbrubaker.blogspot.com/

Thursday, February 5, 2015

Blog #2, Big Apple Trumps Windy City

The Roaring Twenties transitioned the heart of jazz from Chicago to New York City just as the post-bellum movement from New Orleans to Chicago. I argue that from the early 1920’s to the end of the decade, New York City was the new geographical foundation of jazz in the United States.
Economically speaking, both Chicago and New York City offered relentless economic gain from the industry if you were capable of standing out. However, quickly after the transition to Chicago, there was nothing unique in the area that New York could not match or even overtake.  While Chicago musicians could “earn $40 per week or more during the years following World War I…” (Gioia, 72), New York had similar, if not more profitable establishments such as the Cotton Club. On top of this, it was impossible to compare the theater lifestyle formed in Broadway to anywhere else, which through shows like “Hot Chocolates” gave jazz an outpouring of mainstream audience to an elite upper class, spreading its recognition.
In terms of style, many claim that Chicagoans were largely impersonations of the New Orleans style, and that the “most significant thing about ‘Chicago style’ as exemplified in ‘Nobody’s Sweetheart’ is that it was not a style at all” (The Chicagoans, 162). The only consistent reference to unique tunes is Bix Beiderbecke; ironically though, Beiderbecke spent most of his time performing in New York City. The other common counterargument to this would be Louis Armstrong’s Chicago growth. While it’s difficult to argue against his musical growth taking place at the heart of Chicago, multiple attractions kept bringing him back to New York in order to spread it more effectively, including Fletcher Henderson’s band and the ”Hot Chocolates” pit band (he even resided there permanently later on).
New York, on the other hand, brought out numerous players indisputable in their exclusive contributions to jazz in this time— James P. Johnson, Willie “The Lion” Smith, Art Tatum, Duke Ellington, and of course “Fats” Waller, to name a few. Even for those who claimed both areas had their own style, it can be reasoned that, similar to the economic case, musically Chicago was no match for New York. As James P. Johnson said, “the people in New York were used to hearing good piano played in concerts and cafes. The ragtime player had to live up to that standard” (Gioia, 92). The European roots in New York propelled the jazz music to a greater technical level, further propelling its appreciation by mainstream audiences. It is clear jazz cultivates under a large melting pot of talent—few names are mentioned for Chicago; for New York, the list could keep on going.
Regardless of that argument, the man who I believe stood at the soul of New York jazz could be argued to be “Fats” Waller. Waller drove jazz’s mainstream fame through his Broadway performances of the stride style, and “did more than any of these players to bring the Harlem style to the attention of the broader American public” (Gioia, 94). He compiled historic songs epitomizing the New York style, including “Honeysuckle Rose” and “Aint Misbehavin.” He mastered the call-and-response African technique arguably better than anyone of the time.

While Chicago was a vital step in the transition from New Orleans to Chicago, jazz’s coronation into the worldly stage was seen in the core of Manhattan. Both areas formed the necessary cosmopolitan, dynamic culture required for the seedling of jazz to grow its roots, but it is a stretch to claim that Chicago had a larger effect than New York.

Commented on Addison's post.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Blog #1, Down the River

The Louisiana Purchase opened up a vast amount of land to the still nurturing United States in 1803. As this area developed, the Mississippi River became a hallmark of trading and market sharing between regions and businesses across the country. New Orleans as it happened was located in at the mouth of this pipeline, catalyzing it as a bedrock for trade with $5 million in goods incoming per year in the early 1800s to $200 million in 1851. On top of that, the South had already established a vibrant local foundation of economic investments in the area, particularly with the slave trade and long-established plantations (27, Gioia). With any hotspot for trade, an animated cosmopolitan culture emerged, clashing musical backgrounds, especially between the upper class whites and the densely populated blacks from New Orleans’ slave-trade origins (7, Gioia). Out of this social conflict and multi-generational presence in a common area, the creole class emerged, provided with the perfect environment to gain upper-class popularity while utilizing and spreading the musical styles of blacks that we have now coined as “jazz.”
This cosmopolitan dynamic is clearly emphasized in the case of Storyville, also known as “The District,” which formed the proper environment in which the lower and upper classes were able to discreetly conglomerate. (29, Gioia). Additionally, some of the most prominent contributors discussed include Buddy Bolden, often seen as the first true jazz musician to come out of the waters, displaying strong ties in his music to blues and ragtime (34, Gioia). Jelly Roll Morton is often the highlighted example of a creole successfully separated from his “darker” roots, managing to lead an ensemble to fame, and even making the somewhat audacious claim to have “invented” jazz as an abstract principle. His history is often embellished with a bold personality, but even when objectively analyzing his pieces there is no denying his progressive style and complexity crucial to jazz’s evolution (41, Gioia) Alongside them include Freddie Keppard, Sidney Bechet, “King” Oliver, and of course his protégé Louis Armstrong, the first “soloist” to ironically escape the ensemble and bring out individuality to the heart of jazz, just like the blues (43,58, Gioia).
As noted earlier though, the influences to jazz did not come purely internally. New Orleans as a trading hub brought in styles from across the hemisphere. A major factor to note is the Eighth Regimental Band’s presence during the World’s Industrial and Cotton Centennial Exposition in 1884. Multiple members stayed and mentored up and coming jazz musicians not only with classical techniques, but also integrated woodwind instruments (particularly the clarinet) into the local genre (229, Johnson & 55, Gioia). I believe this contribution to jazz’s maturity was vital, as it provided the style with a stronger—but NOT fundamental—tie to organization in its musical theory, subtly embedding its reach to upper-classes’ social networks of the time further.

Direct origins of jazz have long been debated, especially with regards to the most significant proponents. This obscurity, however, is arguably the most important aspect of this style’s history, in that just like its improvisational and interactive components on a musical front, similar links are found in its history. In other words, there is no important factor for the emergence of jazz in New Orleans. For all we know given our own historical bias, there are numerous underground stories we shall never learn about, all of which were vital to the compilation of what we have come to call “jazz.”

Commented on:
Delia's blog, http://blst14delia.blogspot.com/