The Independent Ear

The Ancient Future radio program, hosted & produced by Willard Jenkins, airs over WPFW 89.3 FM, Pacifica Radio for the Washington metro area, available online at www.wpfw.org.

ARTIST                        TUNE                    ALBUM TITLE            LABEL

John Coltrane        Tunji                Coltrane                    Impulse!

Babatunde Lea       Cousin Mary        Live at Yoshi’s        Motema

Randy Weston        Kucheza Blues    Uhuru Afrika    Roulette

Randy Weston        African Lady        Uhuru Afrika    Roulette

Idris Muhammad    Peace                Peace & Rhythm    Prestige

Gary Bartz            Black Maybe        JuJu Street Songs    Prestive

Courtney Pine        My Father’s Place    Back in the Day    Verve

Gilles Peterson        The Blessing Song    Build an Ark    Worldwide Exchange

Simphiwe Dana        Tribe                    Zandisile        Gallo

Gil Evans                Zee Zee            Svengali            Atlantic

Weather Report        Palladium        Forecast: Tomorrow    Legacy

SOUNDVIEWS

Bedrock (Uri Caine)    Count Duke    Plastic Temptation    Winter & Winter

Bedrock (Uri Caine)    Riled Up        Plastic Temptation    Winter & Winter

Bedrock (Uri Caine)    Mayor Goldie    Plastic Temptation    Winter & Winter

Bedrock (Uri Caine)    Leomanana Vasconcelos    Plastic Temptation    Winter & Winter

What’s New: The New Release Hour

Terell Stafford-Dick Oatts Quintet    The 6/20/09 Express    Bridging the Gap    Planet Arts

Randy Crawford & Joe Sample    Lead Me On    No Regrets        PRA

John Blake                Motherless Child        Motherless Child

Gail Pettus                Nature Boy        Here in the Moment    OA2

Danny Grissett        Without You        Form                        Criss Cross

Abdullah Ibrahim    Song For Sathima        Bombella        WDR

Manhattan Transfer    Spain    The Chick Corea Songbook    4Q

Contact:

Willard Jenkins  Open Sky   5268-G Nicholson Lane    #281    Kensington, MD 20895

 

 

This year marks the 50th anniversary of Randy Weston’s signature recording session Uhuru Afrika, certainly a good time to reflect on that singular record in this Randy’s 84th year on the planet.  And I’m happy to report that our as-told-to book African Rhythms: The Autobiography of Randy Weston, composed by Randy Weston, arranged by Willard Jenkins, will be released by Duke University Press this fall, just nine years in the making!  The lead-up to, the story of, and behind the making of Uhuru Afrika will be told in great detail in the book, but in light of this 50th anniversary of it’s recording I thought it was a good time to reprise the piece I contributed on the subject to DownBeat magazine’s February 2005 issue. 

Freeing His Roots, The Making of Randy Weston’s Landmark Opus Uhuru Afrika

A social awareness swept through the jazz community around 1960.  African-American jazz artists began to assert their heritage, embarking on a cultural quest in an atmosphere of racial and social unrest.  Between 1958-1961, albums addressing the African-American social lanscape included Art Blakey’s Africaine, John Coltrane’s Africa Brass, Oliver Nelson’s Afro-American Sketches, Dizzy Gillespie’s Africana, Max Roach’s Freedom Now, and Sonny Rollins’ Freedom Suite.

 

 

In addition to these albums, Randy Weston asserted his African Heritage with the 1960 recording of Uhuru Afrika, an inspired, historic statement from the pianist/composer.  Looking back at the recording of this album, which took place [50] years ago. Weston is a bit defensive when describing his motivations.

"Some people questioned my Africanness.  They were afraid to deal with Africa," Weston said.  "Some people said we were Black Nationalist because we created a music based upon African civilization.  We have so little education about Africa, Uhuru Afrika, was a complete turnabout.  We said, ‘Africa is the cradle of civilization.  Although we’re in Africa, the Caribbean, Brooklyn, or California, we have this commonality, spirituality and the great contributions of African society within all of us.’"

Weston was raised in a home of keen cultural awareness.  The sancitity of his African heritage was a constant source of childhood inspiration, spurred by his father, Frank Weston.

"I was in tune with Africa, and I was always upset about the separation of our people," Weston said.  His dad, raised in Jamaica and Panama, cultivated that African consciousness in his only son.  He kept literature on Africa and black liberation subjects around their home, and he insisted that Randy know that he is an African living in America.

In January 1955, Weston recorded the album Trio (Riverside) with bassist Sam Gill and drummer Blakey, which featured Weston’s first composition "Zulu."  Weston’s African sensibilities emerged in his music from the outset, and he got a nod as "New Star" pianist in the 1955 DownBeat Critic’s Poll.

 

 

Two different LP cover incarnations of Randy Weston’s Trio record

One evening in 1957, lightening struck when Weston went clubbing.  "I first spotted Melba Liston playing trombone with Dizzy Gillespie’s orchestra at Birdland, and when I saw her and heard her play it was instant love," he said.  That thunderbolt led to a partnership of Ellington-Strayhorn proportions, lasting until Liston died in 1999.

 

Melba Liston

Their first collaboration was Little Niles.  "After that recording, I was anxious to do an extended piece dedicated to African people," Weston said.  "This was an interesting period because everybody was full of fire.  The Civil Rights movement was going on."

Weston titled the work Uhuru Afrika, or Freedom Africa [Kiswahili-English translation], in celebration of several new African nations gaining their independence.  This provided the suite with historic thrust.  Weston engaged Liston to arrange his opus.

In preparation, Weston gathered other vital resources.  Earlier in the 50s he had connected with Marshall Stearns in the Berkshires, where Weston worked as a cook at Windsor Mountain resort.  At the nearby Music Inn Stearns helmed an unusual series of intellectual programs and history of jazz sessions that struck deep chords in Randy.  Weston was struck by Stearns’ African roots approach to jazz history.  The historian/educator soon recruited the pianist to act as stylistic demonstrator for his jazz history presentations.  Through Stearns’ programs Weston connected with numerous black intellectuals and artists.  Among these were Harlem Renaissance writer Langston Hughes, who forged a friendship with Weston, and Nigerian musician Babatunde Olatunji.  [Wait for the book for more on this important friendship.]

Langston Hughes

In ‘58, as Weston mapped Uhuru Afrika, he sought Hughes’ participation, asking him to write a freedom poem.  Hughes’ poem became the invocation.  He also asked Hughes to write lyrics for the song "African Lady," the second movement.  "Langston’s poem set a tone for the recording session," Weston said.  "We were talking about freedom of a continent that has been invaded, its children taken away, the continent of the creation of humanity, and Langston felt it, he knew it."

Weston next sought to translate Hughes freedom poem into an African language with continental commonality.  Wondering how this was possible in a continent of more than 900 different dialects, Weston went to the United Nations.  "I was anxious to use an African language because I was quite upset by the Tarzan movies and how they depicted Africans," he said.  "I spent time at the United Nations and met several African ambassadors and asked them what language I should choose to represent the whole continent; they said Kiswahili."

The 6′7" Weston was quite a vision striding the UN corridors, where he encountered Tuntemeke Sanga of Tanganyika (pre-colonial Tanzania).  Weston’s friend Richard Jennings [who sadly passed on to ancestry in late February ‘10], a longtime UN administrator, who along with trumpeter Bill Dixon founded the UN Jazz Society, identifie[d] Sanga as a decolonization emissary.  "[Sanga] was a petitioner," Jennings said.  "During the time of decolonization, different groups and individuals would come in and speak to the [UN] trusteeship counsel on decolonization.  [Sanga] was one of those petitioners speaking to why his country should be decolonized."

"Sanga was a professor of Kiswahili, so he translated Hughes’ freedom poem [from English into Kiswahili]," Weston said.  "We wanted Brock Peters to do the narration of the opening freedom poem, but Tuntemeke Sanga’s voice was so wonderful, and his Swahili so perfect, that we used him on the recording."

Weston struggled mightily to find a record company willing to record his magnum opus.  With These Hands and Jazz a La Bohemia, recorded in March and October 1956 respectively, concluded Weston’s Riverside deal.  [Wait for the book for the story of how Randy Weston was the legendary Riverside label’s first modern jazz signing.]  He cut Little Niles for United Artists in October ‘58.

"I had signed a three-year contract with United Artists, but they weren’t ready for Uhuru Afrika," Weston said.  "They said, ‘If you do a popular Broadway show, then we’ll let you do Uhuru,‘ so I went for it."

He settled on the music from Destry Rides Again.  Despite Weston’s indifferent attitude toward the music, the results are distinctive, executed by four trombones and his rhythm section.  The trombones included Bennie Green, Slide Hampton, Frank Rehak and Liston, who did the arrangements.  Weston fondly recalls one of Destry’s savng graces: It was his lone recording with drummer Elvin Jones; with bassist Peck Morrison and percussionist Willie Rodriguez rounding out the personnel.

United Artists balked at recording Uhuru, but Weston found an ally in his label quest: Sarah Vaughan’s husband and manager, C.B. Atkins.  [Wait for it… later on in the book Muhammad Ali figures prominently in this relationship.] I didn’t have a bit name, I was just playing trio at the time," Weston said.  "I told C.B. Atkins my idea and he went to Roulette Records and talked Morris Levy into it."

In writing the four movements of Uhuru Afrika, Weston beckoned the ancestors.  "My cultural memory is of the black church, of going to the calypso dances, dancing to people like the Duke of Iron, of going to the Palladium and hearing the Latin music, and probably going back further to before I was born," Weston recalled.  "I collected my spirits, asked for prayers from the ancestors and tried to create what came out of me."

Weston consulted earthly sources for inspiration as well.  "I spent time in the Berkshires with the African choreographer Asadata DeFora from Guinea," he said.  "He inspired me to collect African traditional music; it was a natural process of listening, but not necessarily listening with your ears, almost like listening with your spirit.  When I wrote Uhuru Afrika, it just came out of a magical, supernatural process."

The work is in four movements: "Uhuru Kwanza" signifies African people determining their own destiny.  "African Lady" was dedicated to the African woman and all the women who inspired and nurtured Randy along the way, starting with his mom and sister; and "Bantu" signified a coming together of African people.  The celebratory final movement, "Kucheza Blues," is for when all of Africa gains its independence, leading to a tremendous global party.  Liston wrote the arrangements, but even with all her creative powers, parts were still being copied the day of the recording session.  "At my house the day before the recording, guys were writing parts all night long," Weston remembered, with various sheet music tacked to the walls and even the ceiling of his apartment.  "The poor copyist’s ankles were completely swollen, we had to carry him down two flights of stairs in a chair, put him in a cab and take him to the studio."

On November 16, 1960, the recording commenced at Bell Sound in Manhattan.  Producer Michael Cuscuna, who has twice reissued Uhuru Afrika, described Bell as "a gigantic room," otherwise nondescript, possessing no particular magic.  Awaiting those charts was an amazing assemblage of musicians, painstakingly selected.  "The key people were Melba’s associates from her big band days, saxophonist-clarinetists Budd Johnson and trombonist Quentin Jackson," Weston said.  "When we’d do a big band date, Melba picked the foundation people.  We added Gigi Gryce, Sahib Shihab, Cecil Payne, Jerome Richardson, and Yusef Lateef on reeds and flutes; Julius Watkins on French horn; WilliaClark Terry, Benny Bailey, Richard Williams, and Freddie Hubbard on trumpets and flugelhorns; Les Spann on flute and guitar; and Kenny Burrell on guitar.

 

Melba Liston at the recording session for Uhuru Afrika

Africa is civilization’s heartbeat, so the rhythm section was of utmost consideration.  "We wanted a rhythm section that showed how all drums come from the African drum," Weston asserted.  "Babatunde Olatunji played African drum and percussion; Candido and Armando Peraza from Cuba expressed the African drum via Cuba; Max Roach played marimba; Charli Persip and G.T. Hogan played jazz drums; and we had two basses, George Duvivier and Ron Carter."

Surviving musicians don’t recall arriving to the session with many preconceived clues about the cultural significance of the session.  "Randy had talked about what he was going to do, but basically I had no idea until we got to the studio," Persip said.

Once he arrived and spied the prodigious group of percussionists on the date, Persip’s musical collegiality took over.  "I listened to the other drummers, and I played with them.  I tried to blend in with them and at the same time play my part, accompanying the ensemble."

"When you hear all those drummers [in the intro], it’s a building process; first is the African thumb piano, the original piano," Weston said.  "Then I’m playing the jaw of the donkey percussion instrument.  After that comes Armando Peraza on bongos, then Candido, Olatunji, and Charli Persip.  And then all the drummers play together." 

Ron Carter was a relatively new kid on the block, having hit town the previous year.  "Uhuru Afrika was my first awareness that when you go to a date you don’t have any instructions and you should just be prepared for whatever is on the music stand," the bassist said.  "It was a surprise to be in the midst of all those guys."

Seeing all those percussionists was rather daunting and called for some different thinking, as Carter calculated his role.  "First I noted the pitch of all of those drums.  You’ve got congas and bongos, African drums by ‘Tunji…  My first concern was if I could find notes to play out of their range, because it takes a hell of a mixing job to get the bass notes out of that mud.  

 

Ron Carter pondered his role on what was one of his earliest recording sessions

"By the same token, respecting and honoring George Duvivier’s presence, I wanted to see what his approach was going to be when those [drummerrs] started banging around.  Was it going to be like mine, or different in terms of where to play our parts; when the drums lay out, how do we handle the ranges now that we have the space?  It was a real lesson in section bass playing, not having played with another bass player in a jazz ensemble before."

To express Hughes’ lyrics for "African Lady," Weston engaged two beyond jazz singers, baritone Brock Peters and operatic soprano Martha Flowers.  Clark Terry recalled Flowers as "a marvelous singer," with whom he and Liston had worked on Quincy Jones’ Free and Easy.  Flowers was immediately at ease when she arrived at Bell Sound and spotted Terry and Liston.  "When I heard about this music and saw the score, I felt a great sense of dedication to this work.  Politically, it made a great musical statement, and that fired me up," Flowers said from her Chapel Hill, NC home.  ["African Lady"] wasn’t written in a high key where my voice would sound operatic.  It was written in a medium key where my voice had a mellow quality that would lend itself to jazz or music that wasn’t considered classical music."

Weston was thrilled with the date, "because everybody captured the spirit of Africa.  Once, we needed a certain kind of
percussion sound and some guys used Coca-Cola bottles.  Everybody contributed their ideas because when I record I like to get the musicians’ input.  Sometimes they can see or hear things that I can’t hear, so I always like to keep it open.  There was a tremendous sense of freedom."

Hughes’ invocation established a reverent tone.  "When [the musicians] heard the Langston Hughes poem it was quite dramatic, because that was during the period when Africa was either a place to be ashamed of or feared, you were not supposed to identify with Africa," Weston recalled.  "Hearing "Freedom Africa," they knew that freedom for Africa is freedom for us."

Uhuru Afrika was actually recorded and released prior to Weston’s first trip to Africa in 1961, when he was part of a U.S. cultural delegation that included Hughes, Flowers, Olatunji, and others to a festival in Nigeria [see extensive coverage of this historic cultural exchange in African Rhythms].  In 1963, after a second trip to the continent with artist Elton Fax, Weston teamed up with Liston for the Highlife: Music From the New African Nations record (Colpix label).  In 1967, he toured throughout Africa on a State Department trip.  The last stop on that tour was Morocco, where he eventually settled during 1967-72.  [Full details and the ultimate implications of these historic journeys are definitive chapters in Weston’s forthcoming as-told-to autobiography African Rhythms, which will be released in fall 2010 by Duke University Press.] 

Uhuru Afrika has been reissued on vinyl and on CD, and in 2006 was part of a Weston Mosaic Select box set [good luck finding that one].  These were labors of love for Cuscuna.  "I became a Randy Weston completist, and Uhuru Afrika was the hardest to find as a young collector," Cuscuna said.  "I was ecstatic when I finally secured a copy.  So much music in the ’60s used Africa superficially as window dressing, but this was the real deal — an honest, well-written, well researched fusion of jazz and African music.  When I launched the Roulette reissue serries, I was going to put that one out no matter what."

In 1998, 651Arts presented Uhuru Afrika in Brooklyn, at the Majestic Theater [now the Harvey Theatre at 651 Fulton Street].  Liston and Weston’s music director, T.K. Blue, pieced together the original charts, which were in disarray from Liston’s various relocations and illness.  Several of the original musicians, including Clark Terry, Cecil Payne, Candido, and Olatunji, played the reunion.  One of the high points of the evening came when Weston wheeled shy Melba — confined to a wheelchair after a 1985 stroke — onstage for kudos.

As underrated as Weston himself, Uhuru Afrika was a landmark undertaking.  Yusef Lateef remembrered it as a "discovery and invention in the esthetics of music, because there were decades of knowledge in the studio.  I look at it as an amalgamation of abilities that were exchanging ideas and formulating the outcome of that music.  A romance of experience happened at that session.

Stay tuned: plans are afoot for a 50th anniversary concert performance of Uhuru Afrika, and you’ll hear it here first in The Independent Ear.

Our series Ain’t But a Few of Us, black music writers telling their story continues with a voice from the San Francisco Bay Area.  I first met Eric Arnold in 2003 on a magical journalist junket to Morocco to cover the Fes Festival of World Sacred Music, then down to the coast for the Gnaoua & World Music Festival in Essaouira.  Eric represents the new breed of black music writers who are conversant on black music from hip hop to jazz and beyond. 

According to Arnold, "I’m not really a "jazz writer," though of course I have written about it; I tend to cover music of the diaspora, which is black music, Latin music, Caribbean music, African music, hip-hop, soul/funk, and various hybridized and fusionistic forms thereof.  It’s hard for me to separate music into "serious" and "non-serious" categories; I tend to look at it as a whole.  I think the seriousness comes from how folks approach the subject — to me, the recent album of jazz-funk covers of Wu-Tang songs was as serious as, say, the last Joshua Redman album."

What motivated you to write about music in the first place?

When I was in college I read LeRoi Jones’ "Blues People" in my African American Music course, taught by Nate Mackey, a professor who was also a jazz DJ.  At that time I was also DJing, on the college radio station.  I started writing for the school paper and just went from there.

When you first started writing about music were you aware of the dearth of African Americans writing about this music?

Not really. That became obvious later on.

Why do you suppose that’s still such a glaring disparity — where you have a significant number of black musicians but so few black media commentators on the music?

That’s a big question.  I think there’s always been a certain amount of cultural appropriation going on with respect to black music; you can look at Baraka’s essay "Jazz and the white critic" for a historical reference.  There are so few black-owned media outlets — that’s one reason.  And for most white editors who want to cover black music, I don’t think they really see a problem with having non-black writers do it, because they’re not really aware of the cultural nuances.  Cultural appropriation is not really somethiing white people take seriously; there’s no impetus or motivation to be culturally authentic.

Do you think that disparity or dearth of African American jazz writers contributes to how the music is covered?

Absolutely.  A lot of times, the whole notion of race as it relates to music is de-emphasized or tokenized.  I think this extends past jazz, into all genres of black music.

Since you’ve been writing about this music, have you ever found yourself questioning why some musicians may be elevated over others, and is it your sense that has anything to do with the lack of cultural diversity among writers covering the music?

That’s kind of a leading question.  You’d have to be more specific about who gets "elevated."  In general, the lack of cultural diversity among music writers affects a lot of aspects of how music is perceived, what can be said — and what isn’t said.

What’s your sense of the indifference of so many African American-oriented publications towards this music, despite the fact that so many African American artists continue to create this music?

The easy answer is, they’re all sellouts who chase the economic bottom line and don’t really have an investment in their own cultural traditions.

How would you react to the contention that the way and tone of how this music is covered has something to do with who is writing about it?

Well, I don’t think that’s contention but fact. Let’s just say something gets lost in translation culturally.

In your experience writing about this music what have been some of your most rewarding encounters?

Hmmm, good one.  Hearing Oumou Sangare jam with a bunch of folks in a small club in Morocco was pretty special [Editor: Indeed!].

What obstacles have you encountered — besides difficult editors and indifferent publications — in your efforts at covering this music?

The worst is when you pitch a story to a newspaper and they pass on it, and then some time later one of their white staff writers writes a story [on the same or a similar topic] that’s not as good as what you could have done.  This happens a lot.

What have been the most intriguing records you’ve heard over the last several months?

 Ironically, I’d say Quantic and His Combo Barbaro.  Quantic is a white guy from England who went to Columbia and recorded a bunch of native musicians; that album is really good.  I like some of the Afrofunk stuff that’s come out lately — Sila & the Afrofunk Experience’s Black Presient is really good.  The Mulatu Astake – Ethiopian jazz guy — anthology is amazing.  Iike the Amadou + Maryam album, and Sister Fa — she’s a female MC from Senegal. 

The demise of four-wall record stores has been painful to many of certain generations, myself included.  Leafing through the stacks — or crate digging as it’s popularly referred to these days — is the way many of us educated ourselves about various forms of music.  There are indeed survivors of this demise, stalwart record dealers who I suspect will continue to serve those of us still fond of the tactile sensation of holding a physical recording and searching for verbal clues that will provide a sense of the listening experience that awaits; and that last sensation is particularly true for those of us who still harbor healthy appetites for vinyl records.  (I still refer to all physical formats as "records"; as a friend of mine once said ‘they’re all still recordings, right?")

Of the few remaining independent outlets in this country, I still have my favorites; regionally those favorites include the following:

DC area: Joe’s Record Paradise (recently relocated to downtown Silver Spring area)

Midwest: The Jazz Record Mart (Chicago)

South: The Louisiana Music Factory (New Orleans)

West: Amoeba (Hollywood store)

As far as the East goes, the fave is the Jazz Record Center in NYC.  Located in a fairly non-descript building in the middle of the block at 236 W. 26th Street on the 8th floor, between 7th and 8th Avenues, around the corner from the Fashion Institute of Technology, the JRC is a veritable treasure trove of jazz vinyl, plus a modest CD selection, DVDs, books and assorted other jazz paraphernalia.  The place has proven invaluable not only for personal collection crate digging, but also as a research resource in developing the ongoing Lost Jazz Shrines series for Tribeca Performing Arts Center.  So what’s the outlook these downloadable days for an independent operator like the Jazz Record Center’s knowledgeable and convivial owner Fred Cohen?  After a recent fruitful visit there I decided to ask.

 

 

What’s the history of the Jazz Record Center?

There are two Jazz Record Centers.  The first, in business from the ’40s until I don’t know when, was a famous record collecting haunt.  A photo of its stairwell, with "Records 25 Cents and Up, from Bunk to Monk" painted on them, became a tourist attraction.  I came into the city in 1969.  I can’t be certain but I think the [original] JRC was already defunct.  Until 1982 I worked in not-for-profit health care, but never lost my interest in jazz.  When I decided that I had had enough of social services, the owner of a record store that I frequented called me to ask if I was interested in taking over her store.  She had recently been divorced and found that working alone — which was all the store could afford — was too much for her.  My job in health care required a lot of traveling, so I didn’t think I would be suited to a desk job, waiting on customers.  But it was my wife who convinced me to give it a shot for a year.  If it didn’t work out, I wouldn’t lose much, since the investment and overhead was very little.  Everyone I spoke to said it was a crazy move.  So much for taking advice.

Namng the store was easy, the original Jazz Record Center was long out of business.  That was 1983.  After four years on West 72nd Street I moved the store to West 29th Street.  In 1992 I moved to 26th St.

 

 

Is it fair to say that the core thrust of the store is rare jazz vinyl recordings?

Yes and no.  Soon afterr I opened in 1983, the CD was introduced.  All I had was vinyl for a few years as I waited to see if the new format had any legs and whether anyone asked for them.  It wasn’t until 1985 or so that I began to stock CDs, but my heart was then and continues to be in vinyl — rare and pedestrian, new and used.

I don’t see the store as a haven for rare records, though I guess it is.  Sure, it is always exciting to see original pressings of the 50s and 60s in great shape, but you can’t make a living from them, they appear too infrequently.  My core business is LPs and CDs in the $8-15.00 range.  I’m also a big fan of books and videos.  Other than the latest well-reviewed books, they all tend to be slow sellers.  DVDs are one of the most active areas of the store. 

How do you determine the value of the vinyl recordings that you acquire, and how do you go about making acquisitions to offer at retail?

As with any other collectible, the value of records is primarily determined by its condition — record and cover — and secondarily by its rarity.  Condition is easy to assess.  Rarity and its attendant value is more difficult and is based exclusively on experience.  Most "rare" records have a sales history in the store and on the internet.  eBay auctions have helped but the results are often difficult to reproduce.  In the early days of the store I placed small want ads in the Village Voice and New York Times.  Most of the replies were for 78s (which I don’t sell) and big bands (which I can’t sell).  Gradually, records came to me without advertising.  Some people bring in a few, a bag full, or a shopping cart.  Frequently I go out to look at collections (CD and LP).  I enjoy these outings, not only because it gets me out of the store but also because I’m curious about how people collect.  It’s endlessly fascinating.

Although yours is a specialty shop, what effect has the erosion and demise of the retail record store industry meant to the Jazz Record Center?

For the most part I’m unhappy with the loss of so many other stores.  I’ve never seen any business in a competitive way, although I understand that on some levels it is.  But one of the benefits of having other [jazz record] stores is that I could always make a referral when I couldn’t help a customerr.  The first to go was Russ Musto’s Village Jazz Shop, then Tower, followed by HMV and Virgin.  Even though I rarely referred customers to HMV or Virgin, it was somehow reassuring to know that they were there.  The only referral remaining is J&R.  When these stores close, many, if not most of their customers resort to shopping on the internet.  Those that still enjoy the tactile experience of a real store no longer have many options.  When they come here, they can only find a fraction of what is or has been available.  Space limitations prevent me from having the extensive inventory that Tower had. In some cases I do a special order from my suppliers.  But in a lot of instances, the customer has to go somewhere else, and that is usually the internet.

We’re now approximately 30 years into the CD format.  Since you offer a modest selection of CDs, do you ever foresee their value being equal to top quality vinyl recordings? 

Other than perhaps a few unusual instances, I don’t think the CD will ever approach the collectibility of LPs.  The history of the LP runs parallel with the development of bebop, hard bop, and the avant garde as musical forms.  Collectors seek out original pressings that monitor these developments. Labels like Atlantic, Riverside, Prestige, Blue Note, and New Jazz became commerecial successes while avant garde/progressive (whatever you want to call it) jazz flourished on small, independent, mostly artist-owned labels.  Mosaic Records has largely succeeded by including previously unissued tracks from these labels on their boxed sets.  Otherwise, since 1983, there has not been a significant musical innovation that would warrant a collectible market like the one for LPs.

When I was there last you mentioned that you were in the process of fully integrating your vinyl offerings with your CD stock, which had previously been offered in separate rooms.  What made you determine to make that move?

The consolidation was motivated by 1) the amount of space wasted in LP bins that were in some instances only 1/4-1/3 full; 2) the need to accommodate an ever-growing CD inventory; and 3) the realization that having CDs located in two separate areas was confusing to both customers and me.

Contact: Jazz Record Center    236 W. 26th St. (Room 804) New York, NY 10001 212/675-4480; fax 212/675-4504; email: jazzrecordcenter@verizon.net; website: www.jazzrecordcenter.com  

The Ancient Future radio program, produced/hosted by Willard Jenkins, airs on WPFW 89.3 FM (listen live at www.wpfw.org), Pacifica Radio for the Washington, DC metro region.

Artist    Tune    Album title    Label

Adonis Rose    Lil’ Liza Jane    Untouchable    House Swing

Louis Armstrong    Basin Street Blues    (CDR compilation)

Leroy Jones    Bourbon Street Parade    Mo’ Cream    Columbia

George French    New Orleans    Mood Indigo    Rounder

Evan Christopher    Mamanita    Introduction    Classic Jazz

New Birth Brass Band    Hush Your Mouth    New Birth Family    Fat Black

Treme Brass Band    Canal Street Blues    New Orleans Music    Mardi Gras

John Boutte    I’ll Fly Away    New Orleans Brass Bands    Putumayo   

Tuts Washington    Flood Water Blues    Live at Tipitina’s    Night Train

Professor Longhair    Tipitina’s    Rock ‘n Roll Gumbo    Sunnyside

James Booker    All By Myself    Resurrection    Rounder

Henry Butler    Basin Street Blues    PiaNOLA Live    Basin Street

Donald Harrison    Shallow Water    Sounds of New Orleans    WWOZ

Donald Harrison    Hu-Ta-Nay    Indian Blues    Candid

Donald Harrison    Ja-Ki-Mo-Fi-Na-Hay    Indian Blues    Candid

Soundviews (new & recent release spotlight)

Kenny Davis    Too High    Kenny Davis    Daken

Kenny Davis    What Lies Beyond    Kenny Davis    Daken

Kenny Davis    Gone Too Soon    Kenny Davis    Daken

Jacques Swarz-Bart    Abyss    Abyss    Obliq Sound

Jacques Swarz-Bart    An En Mango La    Abyss    Obliq Sound

Jacques Swarz-Bart    Simone    Abyss    Obliq Sound

What’s New

Joe Locke    For The Love of You    (same)    E1

Don Braden/Mark Rapp    Star Crossed Lovers    Strayhorn Project    Premium

Bonnie Harris    Be a Sweet Pumpkin    Listen Here    Lush Life

Janine Gilbert-Carter    How High the Moon    Inside a Silent Tear

 

Contact:

Willard Jenkins

Open Sky

5268-G Nicholson Lane #281

Kensington, MD 20895

  

Baltimore has a significant jazz history.  Deep in Mid-Atlantic region jazz presenting lore is B’more’s historic Left Bank Jazz Society.  People in the Baltimore-Washington area still speak fondly of their now-legendary presentations, with their BYOB good-time atmosphere, coupled with the true joy-of-jazz.  Some of those singular LBJS presentations were preserved on CD by the late Joel Dorn on his Hyena label.  (Which raises the question as to what happened to that announced treasure trove of Left Bank concert recordings when Joel passed on to ancestry?) 

Vernard Gray, who I first met as a downtown DC cultural clothing and artifacts dealer, is in the process of developing an encouraging jazz presenting presence in Charm City, which like Detroit, Cleveland and Buffalo has taken more than its share of brickbats in the urban demise misery index.  The Wire was a superb television series but that wasn’t the sum total of Baltimore depicted in its gritty drama.  Vernard calls his operation the Be Mo Jazz Project.  It is an example of the kind of cultural homesteading that could and should be duplicated in other locales, both as a means of revitalizing former great cities and as a means of keeping the jazz sound flowing in places where the music may have fallen into neglect or ignorance.

VERNARD GRAY

Talk about the origins, purpose and activities of the Be Mo Jazz series.

I moved to Baltimore five years ago after a significant body of culturally related work in my home town of Washington, DC.  It was natural for me to look around and see what cultural related work I would take on in my new hometown.  I was aware of Baltimore’s jazz legacy and I didn’t see it celebrated in a manner I felt appropriate and decided to see what I could do.  With the help of [vocalist] Dick Smith, producer of the Southwest Jazz Performance Series at Westminster Church in DC, I was able to connect with musicians in Baltimore.

In March, 2008 I launched Be Mo Jazz as a weekly performance series, patterned after Smith’s DC project, at the Frederick Douglass-Isaac Myers Maritime Park and Museum in the Fells Point/HarborEast neighborhoods on Baltimore’s waterfront.

The Be Mo Jazz project, organized by CA-FAM lll, Inc., is an effort to honor the history, celebrate the presence and ensure the future of jazz music and culture.  Baltimore is a perfect city to create such a project because of its rich history of celebrating indigenous music traditions.  And the Mid-Atlantic region (PA, DE, MD, VA, NC) is overflowing with musical talent to be both showcased and developed.  The project’s objectives are to present the music; document local jazz histories; organize workshops & related seminars; publish; organize a youth mentoring project. 

How would you characterize the jazz scene in Baltimore?

Baltimore has a rich jazz history that isn’t celebrated to the level it could/should be!  There are generations of accomplished musicians residing/working here seeking places to perform and earn a decent living.  Many are music educators while others work regular jobs to supplement their jazz performance income.  [Editor’s note: Baltimore’s renowned Peabody Conservatory has developed a robust jazz studies wing, staffed by top flight professional jazz musicians-educators.]  They are not paid well with per gig incomes ranging from $50 to $125 on average.  That’s not enough to support one’s family, etc.

Getting consistent patronage in the numbers required to sustain the series has been a challenge for these two years.  I’ve presented [jazz] in various Baltimore communities in different venue types - churches, cafe/lounges, restaurants, and jazz clubs, presenting the region’s most accomplished straight ahead jazz performers and the audiences aren’t consistent in their support.  I’ve reached out to Baltimore’s traditional jazz audience who’ve attended a few events [I’ve presented more than thirty] and seemed to enjoy the music, [who] however won’t attend on a regular basis.  Admission prices have rarely gone above $10.  Now is the time to develop new audiences, especially amongst the youth population.

One of the problems could be jealousy/pettiness.  A friend was in a retail store recently and overheard a gentleman state, "who does this Vernard Gray think he is coming from DC presenting jazz in Baltimore?"  I didn’t appear that he knows me, based on the exchance overheard, however he’s developed a negative attitude regarding my work.  Several people warned me that "Baltimore can be strange," and my response was that I was born in and lived most of my live in a "strange" place called DC.  I am determined to overcome petty stuff and be successful in my undertakings.

In an earlier posting in The Independent Ear, Ron "Slim" Washington editorialized about the potential for establishing a "circuit" of community-oriented venues which would perhaps be more friendly towards and willing to work cooperatively with jazz musicians than some of the more traditional venues.  He cited such spaces as Cecil’s in West Orange, NJ, Sista’s Place in Brooklyn, the Lenox Lounge in Harlem, etc.  Such a circuit might also include Vicino’s, Twins Jazz, Bohemian Caverns and Transparent Productions in the DC area.  Do you see advantages in building such a circuit and would you be interested in participating from a Baltimore perspective?

Yes, I see significant advantages in building such a circuit and I would expand it to include workshop/residencies in local educational institutions to provide additional income for musicians as well.  There is a need for regional networks to create wider audiences and encourage institutional cooperation as well.  As you know, we just purchased a building, and that could serve as a "joint" on such a circuit.

Are there other similar spaces in the region with a community orientation that you are aware of that might be part of  building such a circuit?

Of course, there are other [Baltimore] venues - An Die Musik, Caton Castle, and the New Haven Lounge as well, and I’d be happy to help coordinate.  I’d look at Philadelphia (Chris’ Jazz Cafe), Wilmington’s developing a new downtown/waterfront community where there might be some opportunities, and the Richmond/Tidewater areas might offer some new opportunities as well.

In your experiences with the Be Mo Jazz Series, what is your sense of current performing opportunities and conditions for jazz artists?

I believe the opportunities are great (I’m an optimist), however jazz artists need to learn to become entrepreneurs in their craft.  Too many are resting on their musicianship laurels and, for most, that only goes so far.  Many of the young musicians who perform with Be Mo Jazz have not formed a band with a regular core group of musicians for which they collectively develop music, "practice" their material together, perform together (i.e. MJQ, etc.) and publish material with that group identity.  Milt Jackson personifies an individual who, while remaining a significant member of MJQ, performed with others creating new projects all of his life.  Examples, like Jackson, etc., are right in front of [musicians] if they would just open their eyes.  One young musician here in Baltimore, [bass clarinetist] Todd Marcus, seems to be heading in that direction.  

Bass clarinetist Todd Marcus in action

What’s your sense of presenting opportunities like your series, and their relationships to the traditional jazz clubs and concert venues?

Well I have [developed cooperative relationships with other jazz presenters], at least here in Baltimore and they seem receptive, although the New Haven Lounge is having tough times these days with jazz.  I’d like to access some of the regional venues.  

We’re organizing six events at the Reginald F. Lewis Museum of Maryland African American History as a part of their First Fridays series.  Two of the events have been scheduled thus far:

Friday, March 5: Sheila Ford Quintet, celebrating Maryland Women Jazz Artists (Sheila Ford, vocals; Ron Pender, tenor sax; Tim Murphy, piano; Geoff Harper, acoustic bass; Tom Williams, drums).   

Vocalist Sheila Ford

Friday, April 2: (guitarist) Morris Dow Trio

Others scheduled in suceeding months: saxophonists Arnold Sterling, and Buck Hill; organist Greg Hatza; and drummer Keith Killgo.

Greg Hatza

 

Drummer Keith Killgo

Most of the headliners formerly appeared on the Left Bank Jazz Society series during the 60s through the 80s.  We also plan to honor individuals (performers, supporters, educators, venue operators and media folk) and venues (active and defunct) that have contributed to the jazz legacy in Baltimore through proclamations from the office of the Mayor of Baltimore and maybe some from the Governor’s office and State Legislature as well.  Lastly, Be Mo Jazz intends to make an impact on jazz in this market!!!!!

 

                                        Be Mo Jazz Project CONTACT:

                                                        moderator@gwaba.net

Part one of Twin Cities-based writer Pamela Espeland’s conversation with the kinetic New Orleans-based clarinetist Evan Christopher (scroll down for pt. 1 or find it filed under That’s What They Heard for January ‘10) left off with the artist commenting on his jazz education in his native California and his earlier leanings towards perhaps — tongue-in-cheek — qualifying for a spot in Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers.

So now you are known as a New Orleans-style, Creole-style clarinetist.  That’s how everyone talks about you and how you present yourself.  Does that ever feel like a trap?

No, because in 2006 I intentionally branded myself that way.  I started to do that even before the storm, but I was more aggressive about it starting in 2006.

I want to make sure people are aware that what I’m doing is related and relevant to New Orleans.  I’m trying to be an advocate for that language.  I had to find a way to explain it better so that my identity was more explicable.

Most people’s understanding of New Orleans traditional jazz is so narrow that I wanted to find a new way to make sure that I got different gigs, or that other musicians didn’t make presumptions about what I did.  So part of it was a strategy to make me not look like I was in some kind of box.

I also had to find a way to get around the fact that for traditional music, you find a demographic that’s not as much fun to hang out with.  So part of the Jazz Traditions Project was simply trying to find an aesthetic that would lead us out of only playing for old people.

It wasn’t some kind of artistic decision.  It was more of a survival technique, like switching from saxophone back to clarinet was a survival technique.  One day in university I realized that there’s way too many freaking saxophone players out there.  I started getting calls to do clarinet things, and it was my first instrument, so once I started taking it more seriously I thought, well, I’ve just eliminated so much competition that I may just stick with this.

Talk about your own composing.  What are you trying to do with your compositions?

Finding new ways to frame the music has to go beyond jazz clubs and concerts.  I started writing a little bit for chamber orchestra for a project in California, and that got me excited. 

There’s a group called the Seahawk Modern Jazz Orchestra out of Idyllwild [California], put together by one of my teachers, Marshall Hawkins, the bass player.  [Hawkins leads the jazz department at Idyllwild Arts Academy, which Christopher attended.]  Every summer they have a music festival with a chamber orchestra concert that blends jazz and classical in different ways, or uses the orchestra to frame certain aspects of improvised music.  So every time I’m able, I try to write something for them.

I’m gradually getting more into the idea that there’s vocabulary in New Orleans music that can be used in those forums, and I feel I’m onto something new.  It’s been done in the past by composers like William Grant Still, people like that.  But nobody today is doing too much with it.

I’m trying to find ways to have elements of that vocabulary present.  Even if it seems kind of hidden.  For example, I’ve been cataloging the way that the modern brass bands use harmony, meaning the way three trombone players improvise something in the modern [New Orleans] brass band.  I’m trying to catalog the way they harmonize with each other.

What do you mean by "catalog"?

I’m literally transcribing the way they harmonize with each other, trying to figure out new systems, trying to figure out how to build that into an orchestration so it becomes a gesture of New Orleans music.  In the same way that Mozart used certain rhythms to make gestures that represent aristocracy, or gestures that represent folk.

These gestures become symbols that tell the listener, "Oh, now we’re dealing with the South," or "Now we’re dealing with the European tradition, or the blues tradition."  We’re dealing with certain traditions just by sticking those little gestures in the music somewhere.  They can be ornaments, chords, the way something is voiced, they can be harmonic.

Cover for Christopher’s Django a la Creole

You spent almost three years with the Jim Cullum Jazz Band in your late 20s; talk about that experience.

That was when I switched to the Albert System [of clarinet fingering], so it was great…  It was an interesting time.  I had been in New Orleans for a couple of years and was actually dissatisfied.  I felt like I had run out of things to do, I hadn’t taken responsibility for having my own projects.  The phone would ring, I would do things, I got to do a variety of things, but I got bored pretty quickly…  I couldn’t do the Cullum band more than two and a half years.  I got very accustomed to what was going to happen next.  When there’s not new information, I have to move on.

I found an old web page from when you were in the Cullum band, and even then you had ideas about the music.  Here’s what you said: "My goal is to maintain the integrity of early jazz styles, its structure, but move forward so that it’s speaking to an audience of today instead of being something bottled and preserved."

I think I’ve been saying that from the very beginning.  It’s not like one day I wanted to do repertory and one day I didn’t.  As soon as I became interested in this music, I knew I didn’t want to play in bands that were trying to re-create something.

Talk about drummer Shannon Powell.  You’ve mentioned his name so often that I get the sense that he’s important to you and to the music.

He’s one of the best drummers in New Orleans and a perfect example of someone who has a deep passion for the tradition but doesn’t feel an obligation to be in a box in the way that he uses it.  He’ll use it when it’s appropriate, but if he’s just making music creatively, you’ll hear the history of New Orleans drumming in his playing.  You’ll hear everybody from Baby Dodds to Ed Blackwell.  It’s all in there.  He strongly represents his own neighborhood, his own community of the Treme, in his drumming style.

New Orleans is a fascinating place for that reason.  Neighborhoods have their own musical accents, like a linguistic accent…  The difference between Herlin Riley and Shannon Powell is a distinction that’s very much rooted in the neighborhoods.  The distinction of the 6th ward versus the 9th ward.

How did you figure that out?

You notice the difference and then you ask them about it.  And when you’re trying to play with it, you have to ask those questions as well.  What am I supposed to be doing with this?  This is the way we do things in the Treme [Powell] versus the way we do things in the [lower] 9th ward [Riley].

[Editor’s note: One of the surpassing moments of the 2008 New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival — the same festival on which Evan Christopher’s solos highlighted NOJO’s robust performance — came when Shannon Powell, Herlin Riley, and Jason Marsalis gave a brilliant tribute to Max Roach.  The town has a peerless drum tradition.  For a medium-sized city, few towns boast more than one or two truly world-class drummers; New Orleans has four: Herlin Riley, Shannon Powell, Jason Marsalis, and Johnny Vidacovich and would have at least five if Adonis Rose hadn’t split after the storm.]

Scholarship and research are important to you.

I didn’t have what Shannon had when he grew up.  He sat behind Cie Fraser.  He knew these musicians.  When I got to New Orleans there were no living clarinet players playing in the New Orleans style.  The last one would have been Willie Humphrey, who died months before I got there.  After that, there wasn’t anybody performing in New Orleans that I was terribly interested in.

So you went in to the archives at Tulane University.  You’ve said that was like "taking lessons from ghosts."

Sometimes in those oral histories they’re actually performing on their instruments, they’re describing the way they did things, the jobs they had, how they got to them or why they did them.  Those are the things I would have loved to have asked musicians I knew personally, but there weren’t any.

Are you feeling that you’re occupying some of that role?

I had to look at it that way because I was too old to feel sorry for myself.  Like, I’m the abandoned kid…  It’s not that way.  The circle’s turning.

So now you’re it.

There’s a trumpet player friend of mine, we’re in kind of a similar situation.  We’re both 40 and we’re trying to figure out why there aren’t a bunch of young cats in their twenties wanting to do what we’re doing, or trying to get a handle on it.  Why aren’t they asking us for the recordings that we got from musicians and friends who are now maybe 10 or 20 years older than us?

One of the obvious answers is because there’s not a demand for it.  But there must be something else, too.  I’m not thinking there was ever a huge demand for it, just that it suited my personal aesthetic.  The development of a personal aesthetic is not something that our culture is promoting or encouraging or nurturing.

Cover of Evan’s Clarinet Road release

You’re a seeker.  Do you think the path you’re on will hold your interest?

Figuring out how to play the clarinet in a New Orleans way and have it get gradually farther and farther away from instantly having the associations of being traditional… and yet, at the same time, have it be understood as being from that — that’s a really fun challenge.  There’s irony, and there’s a degree of subversion.  I find myself trying to thumb my nose at what’s a more dominating aesthetic in the jazz community.

Which is…?

I wouldn’t know how to describe it exactly, but it’s a little bit more of the stare at your shoes mentality, the I-don’t-care-if-you-have-a-good-time-listening-to-your-music mentality.  New Orleans insists that on some level you have a good time.

Hear a complete concert by the Evan Christopher/Tom McDermott Danza Quartet broadcast live from Donna’s Bar and Grill in the French Quarter on New Year’s Eve 2009 at: www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyID=98917743

Pamela Espeland writes about jazz each week for MinnPost.com www.minnpost.com/artsarena; blogs about jazz at Bebopified www.bebopified.blogspot.com/ and keeps a Twin Cities live jazz calendar at www.jazzcalendarmsp.blogspot.com.  She has written for mnartists.org at www.mnartists.org, www.jazzpolice.com, www.jazz.com. 

 

 

Our contributor to this latest installment of the series Ain’t But a Few of Us — black music writers telling their story — is Twin Cities-based writer Robin James.  I first met Robin at an IAJE conference and later worked with her as part of the short-lived Jazz Journalists Association mentoring program for young African-American writers in honor of the late Harlemite writer Clarence Atkins.  That program enabled a small coterie of talented young black writers, including Rahsaan Clark Morris and Bridget Arnwine who earlier contributed to this series, to attend a national critics conference.

Robin James has written a jazz column for several years at the Minnesota Spokesman-Recorder, the Twin Cities African American newspaper.  She has continued to contribute to various prints, including a rare interview with Ornette Coleman that she wrote for DownBeat magazine.

What motivated you to write about this music?

At first it was curiosity, which stemmed from attending two jazz concerts in Minneapolis.  The first jazz concert I attended was with Joshua Redman and his band in 1996, the other was the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra with Wynton Marsalis in 2000.  Both men, both concerts changed my thinking about jazz and what this peculiar American art form means to this country.  But even before these experiences I had a history with jazz.  My grandmother had told me stories about how her husband, a Pullman porter, had developed friendships with jazzmen like Hot Lips Page, Buck Clayton, and Dizzy Gillespie.  It took some time before I would learn about who they were.

At the concerts I noticed that there were hardly any women or people of color in the audience. It concerned me.  So I wrote about those concert experiences after I was given the tremendous opportunity by the Minnesota Spokesman-Recorder, an historic Black newspaper and the oldest minority owned company in Minnesota, to write a jazz column, which I began in September 2000.

Then I heard a selection from Joshua’s Spirit of the Moment: Live at the Village Vanguard album on the radio and it pulled me in.  I remember diggin’ the music and then becoming curious about it.  It was an inspirational moment for me.  Then I found out he was on his way to town, so I asked for an interview and, luckily, got one (on his birthday). I was a new reporter and my interview went over its alloted time.  But he was very kind to me over the phone and in-person.  At the time, I knew nothing except that I was falling in love with the music.  And I loved the way it made me feel.

The second jazz concert I attended was the LCJO with Wynton Marsalis.  I was dating someone that had spoken very highly of Wynton and the band.  During my first trip to visit him in New York, I bought him Wynton’s book, Sweet Sing Blues on the Road as a Christmas gift.  Beyond that, I knew nothing about Wynton or his orchestra.  But I was deeply curious.

When the band came to town I attended and reviewed the concert.  After the concert, at the venue I met Wynton.  Someone introduced us and took our picture. 

Immediately, he was very warm and his spirit was very welcoming.  After seeing LCJO and Wynton in action, I began to question why more people like myself didn’t feel drawn to the music.  Although I feel very strongly that jazz chose me, I still have a curiosity that drives me.  It makes me want to share my experiences with readers.  I hope that someone out there will get curious and inspired to learn more, and explore the music more fully for themselves, in much the same way that I did.

About a year later, I was at the Book Expo America in Chicago where I had traveled to work with book authors.  I was a publicist at the time.  Wynton’s book Jazz in the Bittersweet Bluees of Life was being released, so it was being promoted there.  He played a concert to help with promotions.  Briefly we were re-acquainted at the book publisher’s after party.

A month later I was back in Chicago for the Ravinia Festival, where the LCJO and Wynton were performing.  It was there that he read aloud my first column where I stated my concern about why more women and people of color were not feeling drawn to jazz.  After he read my piece, he offered me encouraging words that inspired me to keep writing about jazz.  Wynton also recognized and acknowledged how difficult it is to write.

For someone so accomplished like that to take an interest in me and make time to read my work, at such an early stage, well it made me want to keep going.  Keep writing and learning about jazz.  I am forever grateful.  That meeting changed my life.

After this initial meeting with Wynton, I got in touch with Bob Protzman, who at the time was one of the only full-time jazz writers at a major daily, the St. Paul Pioneer Press.  He helped make it possible for me to write jazz previews and reviews for the newspaper.  Plus, Protzman was hosting a show on our jazz station KBEM, Jazz 88FM.  I listened to him and learned a lot.  After that, at my first Jazz Journalists Association event in New York City in 2003, I reached out to veteran jazz writers Ashley Kahn and Gary Giddins.  Both were very supportive and also helped me along the way.  Due to a referral by Gary, I received my first and only assignment from the Village Voice.  I wrote a CD review.  My experience working with Village Voice editor Chuck Eddy left a lasting impression on me as well.  He taught me how to say something with 250 words or less.  Ashley encouraged me by teaching me how to craft pitch letters.  I also reached out to Stanley Crouch.  He too offered me encouraging words of wisdom andd instruction.

When you began this quest were you aware of the dearth of African Americans writing about this music?

No, I had no idea.

Why do you suppose that’s still such a glaring disparity — where you have a significant number of black musicians making this music but so few black media commentators?

I suppose it comes down to power, access, and interest.  Having knowledge of and access to art is powerful.  But first you’ve got to have interest, interest in art.  Interest in the artist, interest in an audience.  All it takes is one voice to spark something great, which can then inspire individuals and a nation.  That’s power.  But it goes even deeper than that.  And as far as I know, the people who’ve been in this business the longest, who have benefited the most, have yet to fully explain their process.  Until that happens, and that news is documented or talked about openly, by African Americans and all of those who know the difference, we’re not going to get very far.  Very little light has been shed on the subject for whatever reasons.  Too much time is devoted to and focused upon everything but the real important issues, which relate directly to economics.  People in positions of power feel more comfortable with the same people writing the same things and in the same way.  I would welcome a healthy discussion by veteran jazz writers, authors, and editors from jazz publications, and African American-oriented publications in the near future.  What it boils down to is that we’re talking about the human condition and humanizing that condition.  The music, it’s sources, and implications.

Do you think that disparity or dearth of African American writers contributes to how the music is covered?

Absolutely.  From a cultural enrichment standpoint, there’s a lot that has the potential to get missed and/or misunderstood, which can lead to miscommunication.  When you’re documenting what’s happening now, you’ve got to be careful about how the information is transmitted.  When you’re considering future generations with respect to African American history, I know I strive to get the perspective right, because it may be my one and only shot at doing so.  By shaping the now, you’re shaping the future and how it gets viewed later.  It’s like African American folklore.  When the truth doesn’t get told, you have alternative stories going, that then can get viewed as being myths.  The truth doesn’t always get the forum it deserves.  Some things get lost in translation.  Yes, that’s unfortunate.  And yes, that’s 100% preventable.

Since you’ve been writing about this music, have you ever found yourself questioning why some musicians may be elevated over others and is it your sense that has anything to do with the lack of cultural diversity among writers covering the music?

At first I used to wonder and question, but now I don’t.  I get it.  Editors are key here.  How they think matters.  Or, we’ve been conditioned to believe that.  Sure, they get pitched by writers, which in turn helps shape their decision making process.  But it still comes down to how they think, which directly relates to what gets covered and who covers what.  Again, that leads to economics, and relationships.  I don’t know how much a writer’s actual talent, and abilities, or interest adds to the equation.  I suppose all of that ought to be considered.  In my case, I’m very fortunate in that I write a jazz column and so, my editors let me have free reign.  My position is extremely unique, I realize this and feel very grateful to have the freedom to pretty much write about whatever I want to.  Of course, I’m asked to be mindful of our audience when I do make my choices.

You are one of the few who have written about the music for an African American-oriented publication.  What’s your sense of the indifference of so many African American publications towards this music, despite the fact that so many African American artists continue to create the music?

Again, it comes down to economics.  I imagine, other publications have to consider their overall space, content, and advertising budgets.  With MSR, the publisher made a conscious choice to devote space to jazz, in good and not so good economic times.  We still have a long way to go in this arena.  I definitely don’t see a lot of coverage being devoted to jazz [elsewhere], which is very disappointing and troubling to me.

How would you react to the contention that the way and tone of how this music is covered has something to do with who is writing about it?

The way and tone of how serious music is covered has everything to do with who is covering it.  It’s like comparing Ben Ratliff’s coverage of Wynton Marsalis to Nate Chinen’s coverage of Wynton.  Here we’re talking about individual experience.  Individual taste, so an individual’s background, experience and education comes into play.  It’s all very intimate in nature.  And you can sense the enthusiasm level a writer has for the piece he or she has written.  It’s inescapable.

In your experience writing about serious music, what have been some of your most rewarding encounters?

Besides my encounters with Wynton, interviewing Ornette Coleman for a cover story for DownBeat has been a major career high point.  Meeting Kenny Burrell and Charlie Haden  at the Jazz Bakery.  Having Gary Giddins refer me for a CD review for the Village Voice. Receiving the Clarence Atkins fellowship award and attending the National Critics Conference, and from that experience meeting David Ritz, from whom I still seek advice.  Co-hosting and creating the jazz radio show Sweet on Jazz with KBEM’s music director Kevin O’Connor.  With his invaluable guidance and support I was fortunate enough to interview artists such as Jackie McLean, Lou Rawls, Sonny Rollins, Patrice Rushen, Nnenna Freelon, among others.  Writing for the Village Voice and EQ magazine.  Becoming a contributing writer for DownBeat.  Having had the opportunity to write about jazz for a weekly, a daily, a national jazz magazine, and to broadcast a jazz show, I feel extremely fortunate.  All these experiences fuel my passion to keep moving in positive directions with the music.  Building long-term relationships with musicians of all calibre and earning their respect and trust is of the utmost importance to me.

 

What obstacles have you run up against — besides difficult editors and indifferent publications — in your efforts at covering this music?

MSR is a weekly newspaper so I encounter a number of obstacles.  My mail gets lost.  Sometimes I don’t always get clips out to the labels who don’t have clipping services.  I don’t always receive invites to music-related functions.  My name doesn’t always appear on regular reviewers mailing lists so I don’t get CDs to review from all record companies releasing jazz or jazz-related music in a timely fashion.  I understand the timing that’s involved when it comes to reviewing a CD, but I’ve learned to just keep doing the best I can to get the news out.  I’ve come to accept that doing some extra leg work is necessary if I want to keep up and stay on top of the news.  It’s tough, but well worth the effort.  A column might get bumped, or a front page story could get eliminated or delayed.  It all depends on developing news.

If you were pressed to list several musicians who may be somewhat bubbling under the surface or just about to break through as far as wider spread public consiousness, who might they be and why?

Dana Hall and Winard Harper are two terriffic drummers out there who don’t record a lot or get a ton of gigs, but they are rich on talent.  They deserve more exposure as they have demonstrated commitment and a deep understanding of the music and how it relates to the times we live in now.  Jeremy Pelt is another extraordinary talent that you just don’t see or hear enough about.  He’s very history-minded, yet future-minded and presents a balanced view of both while he’s telling his story.

What were some of the most intriguing new records you heard in 2009?  

Christian McBride’s Kind of Brown featuring his acoustic jazz quintet Inside Straight stands out.  It’s a deluxe package.  It grooves, swings, it’s bluesy.  Speaking of Jeremy, his debut recording Men of Honor for HighNote came out in January, its beautiful.  I had the honor of writing the liner notes.  All of my writing experiences have brought me to this important assignment.  I have a lot of respect for David Ritz who has won several Grammys for his work on liner notes.  

The Ancient Future radio program is produced & hosted by Willard Jenkins for WPFW 89.3 FM (www.wpfw.org), Pacifica Radio for the Washington, DC metro area.

HAITIAN RELIEF
Joanne Brackeen
Haiti B
Tring-A-Ling
Choice

Mingus Big Band
Haitian Fight Song
Blues & Politics
Dreyfus

Jean Caze
Haitian Peace Song
Miami Jazz Scene

Harper Brothers
Haitian March
Harper Brothers
Verve

Grupo Vocal Desandann
Haiti Cherie
Descendants
Bembe

Jane Bunnett
Pa gen Dio
Embracing Voices
Sunnyside

Markus Schwartz
Afro-Haitian Jazz Suite
Tanbou Na Lakou Brooklyn
Markuis Schwartz

Grupo Vocal Desandann
Lumane Cosima
Descendants
Bembe

Ernest Dawkins New Horizons Ensemble
Haiti
Mean Ameen
Delmark

Coltrane’s Ashe (Leonard Brown)
Mr. Syms
14th Annual John Coltrane Memorial Concert
Greenline

Coltrane’s Ashe (Leonard Brown)
Transition
14rh Annual John Coltrane Memorial Concert
Greenline

SOUNDVIEWS (weekly new/recent release spotlight)
Mimi Jones
Watch Your Step
A New Day
Hot Tone

Mimi Jones
Suite Mary
A New Day
Hot Tone

Mimi Jones
Sista
A New Day
Hot Tone

Mimi Jones
All Things
A New Day
Hot Tone

WHAT’S NEW (new/recent release hour)
Byron Morris & Unity
Kitty Bey
Variations in Time
ByMor

Omar Sosa & NDR Bigband
Chango En Esmeraldos
Ceremony
OTA

Ithamara Koorax & Juarez Moreira
Bim Bom
Bim Bom
Jazz Therapy

Harvey Wainapel
Baio do Porao
Amigos Brasileiros
Jazz Mission

Gail Pettis
Nature Boy
Here In the Moment
OA2

Edward Simon
One for JP
Besia
CAM Jazz

Roger Rosenberg
Birds and Tranes
Baritonality
Sunnyside

contact:
Willard Jenkins
5268-G Nicholson Lane
#281
Kensington, MD 20895

Once you get past the outsized ego of its leader, trumpeter Irvin Mayfield, the burgeoning New Orleans Jazz Orchestra is potentially an exceptional representation of both the modern and traditional jazz fruits of the city.  The orchestra, or NOJO as it is known, boasts such gifted players as saxophonists Ed Peterson and Derek Douget, trombonist Ron Westray, and the sturdy rhythm section of pianist Victor Atkins, bassist David Pulphus, and drummer Adonis Rose, versatile modernists steeped in the New Orleans traditions to be sure.  Admit it, you may not have heard of these guys given the fact that unfortunately jazz musicians who choose to live outside the media centers often suffer in undue obscurity.

 

    During the roughly 14 months in ‘07/’08 that I spent living in New Orleans the "local" artists and music were a constant delight and discovery.  For what is essentially a medium sized city with a peerless major metropolis culture, the number of world class musicians who live and work there per capita is staggering.  During my time there catching sets at Snug Harbor, Tipitina’s, Ray’s Boom Boom Room and assorted other joints both Uptown and below Canal Street, and being privileged to host programs over mighty WWOZ, one of the most impressive musicians I heard is perhaps the revelation of NOJO, the clarinetist-saxophonist Evan Christopher.  This brilliant musician manages a keen ear for both trad and modern jazz — versed in Django and Ornette — and plays both with brisk authority.  If you haven’t heard him, all I can say is DON’T SLEEP!

 

    Good friend and intrepid Twin Cities writer Pamela Espeland caught up with Evan Christopher recently for a conversation; here’s part one of that encounter.  Oh, and one more shout out to the Crescent City: WHO ‘DAT?!

 

Talking with Evan Christopher (part one)

by Pamela Espeland

 

Think "clarinet" and "New Orleans" and a certain sound may come to mind: sweet, quavery, old-timey Dixieland.  I once thought of the clarinet as an instrument that had seen its day in jazz, making rare appearances for color and nostalgia.  And then I heard Evan Christopher play (www.clarinetroad.net). 

 

             Evan Christopher contemplates his tricky axe

(photo by Jim McGuire)

 

    During my first encounter with the Creole-style clarinetist, an impromptu set at the Dakota Jazz Club (www.dakotacooks.com) in Minneapolis in 2008, he stole the show from Irvin Mayfield, who usually keeps a pretty firm grasp on such things.  I heard Christopher again at Chickie Wah Wah in New Orleans in March ‘09, where he has a regular gig on Monday nights, and back at the Dakota in October, where he played for more than two hours to a packed house with no break.  Each time I came away knowing I had heard something old and something new.

 

    Born in Long Beach, CA Christopher began playing clarinet at age 11.  He moved to New Orleans in 1994 and left twice, the first time in ‘96 to join the Jim Cullum Jazz Band in San Antonio, where he remained for two and a half years, and again in ‘05 after Hurricane Katrina, when his Broadmoor neighborhood flooded and he became one of the city’s more than 4,000 displaced musicians.

 

    At the invitation of the French government, Christopher relocated to Paris, where he deepened his commitment to the music of New Orleans, solidified his claim to the title "Ambassador of the Clarinet," and formed two groups: The Jazz Traditions Project and Django a la Creole.  He returned to New Orleans in December ‘07.

 

    Christopher is charismatic on stage, playing with passion and joy, connecting with the audience, occasionally singing, sometimes dancing as he plays.  Rooted in history and scholarship, his music is modern and fresh, sincere and full of emotion, respectful of the elders but not at all dusty or quaint.  Contemporary trad?  Or simply the living, breathing, right-now sound of New Orleans?

 

    We spoke in late ‘09, when Christopher was in Minneapolis with pianist Henry Butler, and also to meet with the Minnesota Orchestra, which has commissioned him to write a new piece for orchestra that will have its world premiere on July 23, 2010.

 

The name of your website is "Clarinet Road" and you have two recordings called "Clarinet Road."  What is the Clarinet Road?

 

When I first met Tony Scott, the great bebop clarinet player, he was living in Italy.  I was on tour and he autographed a poster-size picture he used to carry copies of around, of himself backstage at Carnegie Hall in 1953 or 1954 with Billie Holiday and Charlie Parker.  He signed it "Good luck on Clarinet Road, lots of curves."  I lost that poster in the storm but I kept the Clarinet Road thing. 

[Editor’s note: in yet another of their localisms New Orleanians rarely refer to their August 2005 calamity as "Hurricane Katrina" or "Katrina", but simply as "the storm."]

 

How did your music change when you moved to Paris after Katrina?

 

When I went to Paris, I was very aggresively trying to move forward, trying not to cry over spilled milk.  Initially, I thought there was no way I was ever going to go back to New Orleans, I was so pissed off about it.  I envisioned getting a project started in Paris, and I envisioned staying there.  To shape that project, I had to come up with a slightly new aesthetic, because I had to find a way to represent New Orleans music outside of New Orleans, with musicians who weren’t living there or from there.

 

You were working with French musicians?

 

On the Live at the Meridien recording, the drummer is French.  The other two musicians live in France but they’re actually Australian.  The bass player, Sebastien Girardot, has played traditional jazz with real New Orleans-style revival bands since he was 19.  [Guitarist] David Blenkhorn came up with Australian musicians in the Australian traditional jazz scene.  He plays the shit out of blues.  He approaches jazz in almost a more American way than a lot of American musicians do.

 

What does that mean?

 

He likes to swing and play blues.

 

Do you find there’s a difference between working with American musicians and those who aren’t American?

 

I can’t make a generalization like that.  But I will say that I enjoy the spirit of these guys.  It seems more American to me than a lot of the cats I work with here.

 

Talk about your Jazz Traditions Project, the group with whom you recorded Live at the Meridien.

 

It’s a tongue-in-cheek thing.  A lot of avant-garde/contemporary groups use the word "project" and it’s sort of annoying.  The Jazz Traditions Project is a way of saying "We’re not going to apologize for having a foot in the door or New Orleans music."

 

I met Sebastien when he was about 19 years old, at a festival in Norway.  He was playing with an Australian band, good revival-style New Orleans jazz.  The drummer, Guillaume [Nouaux], I met a couple years later in Paris.  David Blenkhorn I met in Ascona, Switzerland.  He was there at a festival with a great Australian jazz musician named Tom Baker, who embodies what I think is more the American spirit/aesthetic of jazz better than a lot of American musicians.

 

You taught for a time.

 

I was adjunct faculty at the University of New Orleans and I’m done with that.  I had the distinction for three semesters of having the only performing ensemble at the University level dealing with New Orleans music.

 

That is so bizarre!

 

Everybody says that, and I want people to have that reaction.  But maybe it’s not so bizarre.  If you think about what has become the norm for modern jazz pedagogy, New Orleans strategies and schema for music-making or learning music don’t really fit in.  I found ways to make them fit in, but they don’t generally.  It’s not people’s experience who teach on that level.  It’s not something, except in New Orleans, that students can engage in directly when they walk out their door.  The fact that they choose not to is the part that I want to seem strange.

 

When you are bringing the music forward, making the music contemporary, how are you doing that?  What’s going through your mind as you’re preparing and performing?

 

During my preparation with the band, I have some rules in my head, to intentionally avoid repertory. The idea behind Django a la Creole was if we do these Django tunes, we have to find a new way to do them.  We have to find elements in them that say that they want to be something else.  We have to find rhythmic elements, harmonic things, that make them actually want to not be the same thing that they’ve been for years and years, that everybody else is doing.

[See and hear Django a la Creole perform "Fantasie" and "Riverboat Shuffle" at www.youtube.com/watch?v=2JsazOf3bWs&feature=related]

    With the Jazz Traditions Project, it’s the same thing.  You have to take vehicles that lend themselves to using the vocabulary that’s rooted in tradition.  A song like John Coltrane’s "After the Rain" is a beautiful waltz.  You imagine, well, what if Elvin Jones is playing in a brass band, what if [clarinetist] George Lewis is playing the melody?  And it’s not to make anachronisms.  It’s like a postmodern strategy, where you’re blurring the lines between genre, where you’re blurring the lines between tradition.  At the same time, it still has to be musical, to have what I would call narrative.

[See and hear the Jazz Traditions Project perform Coltrane’s "After the Rain": www.youtube.com?v=SCSeiAWZzSM]

 

You also play an Ornette Coleman tune, "Lonely Woman."

 

Ornette is one of the pioneers of modern jazz.  To be anchored firmly in the earliest New Orleans traditions and yet find a way to make an homage to one of the pioneers of the avant-garde was more symbolic to me than anything.

 

Is it difficult?

 

It’s hard finding things.  I’ve been looking for other Ornette tunes, and I’ve hung out with him.  He’s a lovely cat.  He appreciates things that sound good.  His whole thing has always been about being free of all those trappings — what’s traditional, what’s modern, freedom from tonality, even more abstractly, freedom from what he calls our "classness," or even gender.  He’d rather be free of all of that.

 

What were you doing before you started playing in the New Orleans style?

 

When I was in college, I was playing a lot of saxophone.  When I first started university, I was playing a lot more saxophone.  I thought I was being groomed to be a New York musician, someone who was going to wait in line to audition to be one of Art Blakey’s last alto players.

 

Doesn’t everybody have that Art Blakey dream?

 

I don’t know if it was specifically Art Blakey.  I was kind of making a joke.  Those kinds of stories resonate with one’s imagination when you’re out there in California.  A couple of my mentors were modern musicians.  I think that’s what I envisioned myself being.  I still know a lot of that music, even though I never get to play it.

 

………………….STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO………………….