Also, the growing unease of looking at this fellow, Stanley Crouch:
He gives me the heebie jeebies, that's for sure. And this picture really doesn't do justice to his grotesque countenance. See Ken Burn's Jazz for that.
On second thought, don't. It's entirely a hagiography of Marsalis, and his brand of soulless, fake jazz. Crouch is the man behind the throne; Lees points out, quite convincingly, that much of Marsalis's letters, that his writing is most likely actually written by Crouch. And Crouch is crazy! The end result is that Jazz is tainted by the racism of Marsalis and Crouch. That's right, racism, the idea that white people cannot play jazz, that jazz is inherently black music.
Lees highlights the numerous, though quieter, advocates of a less vengeful approach. He points out early pioneers, and questions the narratives surrounding the first jazz recordings by the (all-white) Original Dixieland Jazz Band. He points out that white Jews (nearly always the subject of racism, a barely disguised anti-Semetism) contributed to its growth and development. Most of all, he saves Bill Evans from Crouch and others who have tried to derogate him as a musician in order to minimize his achievements and innovations, most notably his chord voicings.
Lees, as a longtime music reporter and writer, and most notably editor of Downbeat in the late 50s and early 60s, is well placed to counteract the racist revisionism of Crouch, Marsalis et al. He speculates on the authorship of Miles Davis's quite insane autobiography by pointing out above all, how the racist opinions in the book contradict much of his past opinion, and examining his choices in (white) musicians. Lees accounts for the possibility of Davis's authorship by pointing to his sheltered upbringing, shattered by a beating from a racist cop, and his tendency to be a sensationalist, to simply say things to shock. But he probably wasn't responsible for most of the content of the autobiography, since it was ghostwritten, anyway.
But Lees is in a tough position, as a white critic writing about black racism against whites. Yet his message appeals more than the sensational appeals of the revisionists, saying instead that it doesn't matter if you are black or white.
As for jazz? Lees sees Western roots in the creole mix of New Orleans that Crouch and others try to dismiss, to paint jazz as solely a black or African music. I'll let Miles get the last word.
Years ago, Dizzy Gillespie was on the Mike Wallace television show. Mike said something like, 'Is it true that only black people can play jazz?'
And Dizzy said, 'No, it's not true. And if you accept that premise, well then what you're saying is that maybe black people can only play jazz. And black people, like anyone else, can be anything they want to be.'
No comments:
Post a Comment