Writing Jazz by David MeltzerReview by: Robert RawlinsNotes, Second Series, Vol. 57, No. 4 (Jun., 2001), pp. 914-915Published by: Music Library AssociationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/901005 .

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NOTES, June 2001 NOTES, June 2001

activism and, in Brothers's summary, "to- ward values of thrift, family and group loyalty, honesty, and good work habits" (Brothers, p. 3). Here Armstrong is preach- ing the gospel of Washington, an up-by- the-bootstraps philosophy he seems to have absorbed deeply as a young man.

The Washington connection also helps to explain the most striking omission in the new autobiographical writings: Armstrong fails even to mention the Hot Five and Hot Seven recordings that undergird his reputa- tion as a founder of jazz. (His treatment of them in 'Jazz on a High Note" [1951] came in response to a specific request from the editors of Esquire.) He discusses his tenures with King Oliver, Fletcher Henderson, Erskine Tate's "symphony orchestra," and Carroll Dickerson. Why not the Hot Five? Armstrong makes his perspective clear in a 1941 response to critic Leonard Feather's query about the most important events in jazz history: "[W]ell the first one was when Pops [i.e., Joe Glaser] booked me for my first commercial program over the-N.B.C. ... Then too-those pictures-'Pennies From Heaven' 'Artists 'N' Models'- 'Everyday is a Holiday'-and that fine 'Going Places'" (Brothers, p. 147). Arm- strong was proudest of his public advances in the entertainment industry, especially when he broke color barriers in radio and film. Toward his more esoteric contribu- tions to the language of jazz he apparently remained indifferent or oblivious. In this sense, Armstrong followed a professional course advocated by Washington, a course targeting socioeconomic triumph rather than political power or artistic achieve- ment.

Armstrong is often viewed as a man of contradictions: authentic yet mercenary, wise yet naive, race-proud yet eager to please. We have long needed an intellec- tual context in which to sort out the many parodoxes of his life. With the publication of his unexpurgated ruminations on a wide array of topics, the process of defining that context can now begin in earnest.

activism and, in Brothers's summary, "to- ward values of thrift, family and group loyalty, honesty, and good work habits" (Brothers, p. 3). Here Armstrong is preach- ing the gospel of Washington, an up-by- the-bootstraps philosophy he seems to have absorbed deeply as a young man.

The Washington connection also helps to explain the most striking omission in the new autobiographical writings: Armstrong fails even to mention the Hot Five and Hot Seven recordings that undergird his reputa- tion as a founder of jazz. (His treatment of them in 'Jazz on a High Note" [1951] came in response to a specific request from the editors of Esquire.) He discusses his tenures with King Oliver, Fletcher Henderson, Erskine Tate's "symphony orchestra," and Carroll Dickerson. Why not the Hot Five? Armstrong makes his perspective clear in a 1941 response to critic Leonard Feather's query about the most important events in jazz history: "[W]ell the first one was when Pops [i.e., Joe Glaser] booked me for my first commercial program over the-N.B.C. ... Then too-those pictures-'Pennies From Heaven' 'Artists 'N' Models'- 'Everyday is a Holiday'-and that fine 'Going Places'" (Brothers, p. 147). Arm- strong was proudest of his public advances in the entertainment industry, especially when he broke color barriers in radio and film. Toward his more esoteric contribu- tions to the language of jazz he apparently remained indifferent or oblivious. In this sense, Armstrong followed a professional course advocated by Washington, a course targeting socioeconomic triumph rather than political power or artistic achieve- ment.

Armstrong is often viewed as a man of contradictions: authentic yet mercenary, wise yet naive, race-proud yet eager to please. We have long needed an intellec- tual context in which to sort out the many parodoxes of his life. With the publication of his unexpurgated ruminations on a wide array of topics, the process of defining that context can now begin in earnest.

BRIAN HARKER

Brigham Young University BRIAN HARKER

Brigham Young University

Writing Jazz. Edited by David Meltzer. San Francisco: Mercury House, 1999. [xix, 315 p. ISBN 1-56279-096-X. $16.95 (pbk.).]

David Meltzer's anthology Writing Jazz is decidedly not just another collection of jazz articles. Meltzer has hit upon a scheme that is sure to stimulate interest and, most likely, controversy as well. The plan is simple: pre- sent a collection of writings by white authors (Reading Jazz, ed. Meltzer [San Francisco: Mercury House, 1993]) along with a companion volume of writings by black authors (Writing Jazz). Lest the divi- sion seem superficial or pointless, Meltzer provides a conceptual framework, implicit in the titles themselves. Reading Jazz reveals "the cultural colonization and reinvention of jazz as a white discourse," while "T1riting Jazz represents African-American percep- tions of jazz as a subject and practice" (p. xi).

Writing Jazz claims to be "the first com- prehensive historical anthology of writings on jazz by African-American musicians, critics, writers, and poets" (dust jacket). Excerpts by more than one hundred con- tributors are organized into six chapters in loose chronological order. The chapters are framed by a "Pre-Text" and "Sub-Text" in which Meltzer interjects his own polemics in his rambling and poetic prose style. An extensive bibliography and an in- dex of the anthologized material prove to be helpful additions to the volume.

Meltzer believes that jazz exemplifies racial division in the United States: "the line is drawn in the sand between white and black; implanted implacably as the Great Wall, divided, apart, where whites and blacks face each other tiptoeing to the ledge of a deep Grand Canyon whose bot- tom can't be fathomed. Only the musics arise" (p. xix). But writings by musicians themselves paint a different picture. Pianist Willie ("the Lion") Smith writes that "music does not stem from any single race, creed, or locality. It comes from a mixture of all these things" (p. 7). Saxophonist Sidney Bechet says that "no music is my music. It's everybody's who can feel it. You're here ... well, if there's music, you feel it-then it's yours too" (p. 125). Duke Ellington speaks of George Gershwin's work as moving in "the same general direction" as his own

Writing Jazz. Edited by David Meltzer. San Francisco: Mercury House, 1999. [xix, 315 p. ISBN 1-56279-096-X. $16.95 (pbk.).]

David Meltzer's anthology Writing Jazz is decidedly not just another collection of jazz articles. Meltzer has hit upon a scheme that is sure to stimulate interest and, most likely, controversy as well. The plan is simple: pre- sent a collection of writings by white authors (Reading Jazz, ed. Meltzer [San Francisco: Mercury House, 1993]) along with a companion volume of writings by black authors (Writing Jazz). Lest the divi- sion seem superficial or pointless, Meltzer provides a conceptual framework, implicit in the titles themselves. Reading Jazz reveals "the cultural colonization and reinvention of jazz as a white discourse," while "T1riting Jazz represents African-American percep- tions of jazz as a subject and practice" (p. xi).

Writing Jazz claims to be "the first com- prehensive historical anthology of writings on jazz by African-American musicians, critics, writers, and poets" (dust jacket). Excerpts by more than one hundred con- tributors are organized into six chapters in loose chronological order. The chapters are framed by a "Pre-Text" and "Sub-Text" in which Meltzer interjects his own polemics in his rambling and poetic prose style. An extensive bibliography and an in- dex of the anthologized material prove to be helpful additions to the volume.

Meltzer believes that jazz exemplifies racial division in the United States: "the line is drawn in the sand between white and black; implanted implacably as the Great Wall, divided, apart, where whites and blacks face each other tiptoeing to the ledge of a deep Grand Canyon whose bot- tom can't be fathomed. Only the musics arise" (p. xix). But writings by musicians themselves paint a different picture. Pianist Willie ("the Lion") Smith writes that "music does not stem from any single race, creed, or locality. It comes from a mixture of all these things" (p. 7). Saxophonist Sidney Bechet says that "no music is my music. It's everybody's who can feel it. You're here ... well, if there's music, you feel it-then it's yours too" (p. 125). Duke Ellington speaks of George Gershwin's work as moving in "the same general direction" as his own

914 914

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Book Reviews Book Reviews

(p. 148). Indeed, accounts by jazz musi- cians who were active in the 1930s and 1940s tend to support Scott DeVeaux's ob- servation that "personal relations between blacks and whites were more collegial than in perhaps any other professional sphere of the time" (DeVeaux, The Birth of Bebop: A Social and Musical History [Berkeley: Uni- versity of California Press, 1997], 168).

Meltzer's aim is to emphasize the differ-

ing perspectives of black and white writers, but what really emerges from these vol- umes is the contrast between jazz commen- tators and jazz performers, regardless of racial background. LeRoi Jones (Amiri Baraka), for example, writes that "[b]ebop rebelled against the absorption into

garbage, monopoly music; it also signified a rebellion by the people who played the mu- sic" (p. 183). But Dizzy Gillespie states, "It's true, melodically, harmonically, and rhyth- mically, we found most pop music too bland and mechanically unexciting to suit our tastes. But we didn't attempt to destroy it-we simply built on top of it by substitut- ing our own melodies, harmonies, and rhythms over the pop music form and im-

p-ovised on that" (p. 190). Thomas J. Porter writes, "It is very important to under- stand that music, like all art regardless of its form, is ideological. That is, it reflects or transmits certain political, class, and na- tional interests" (p. 229). Evidently, pianist Mary Lou Williams was unaware of this the night "we ran into a place where Ben Pollack had a combo which included Jack Teagarden and, I think, Benny Goodman. The girls introduced me to the Texas trom- bonist, and right away we felt like friends. After work, he and a couple of musicians asked us to go out, and we visited most of the speaks downtown" (p. 136). Ortiz M. Walton writes, "The constant drive of the bop rhythm section, coupled with an in- scrutable Afro-American ethos in soloistic playing, sharply delimited white competi- tion. If one compares the recordings of whites with those of black players, musical differences are immediately recognizable" (p. 202). But Dizzy Gillespie recalls, "People noticed I had two white guys in the group-Al Haig, piano, and Stan Levey on drums. I guess because it seemed strange during the time of segregation. Almost everyone disregarded the fact that both cats were excellent musicians and devotees of

(p. 148). Indeed, accounts by jazz musi- cians who were active in the 1930s and 1940s tend to support Scott DeVeaux's ob- servation that "personal relations between blacks and whites were more collegial than in perhaps any other professional sphere of the time" (DeVeaux, The Birth of Bebop: A Social and Musical History [Berkeley: Uni- versity of California Press, 1997], 168).

Meltzer's aim is to emphasize the differ-

ing perspectives of black and white writers, but what really emerges from these vol- umes is the contrast between jazz commen- tators and jazz performers, regardless of racial background. LeRoi Jones (Amiri Baraka), for example, writes that "[b]ebop rebelled against the absorption into

garbage, monopoly music; it also signified a rebellion by the people who played the mu- sic" (p. 183). But Dizzy Gillespie states, "It's true, melodically, harmonically, and rhyth- mically, we found most pop music too bland and mechanically unexciting to suit our tastes. But we didn't attempt to destroy it-we simply built on top of it by substitut- ing our own melodies, harmonies, and rhythms over the pop music form and im-

p-ovised on that" (p. 190). Thomas J. Porter writes, "It is very important to under- stand that music, like all art regardless of its form, is ideological. That is, it reflects or transmits certain political, class, and na- tional interests" (p. 229). Evidently, pianist Mary Lou Williams was unaware of this the night "we ran into a place where Ben Pollack had a combo which included Jack Teagarden and, I think, Benny Goodman. The girls introduced me to the Texas trom- bonist, and right away we felt like friends. After work, he and a couple of musicians asked us to go out, and we visited most of the speaks downtown" (p. 136). Ortiz M. Walton writes, "The constant drive of the bop rhythm section, coupled with an in- scrutable Afro-American ethos in soloistic playing, sharply delimited white competi- tion. If one compares the recordings of whites with those of black players, musical differences are immediately recognizable" (p. 202). But Dizzy Gillespie recalls, "People noticed I had two white guys in the group-Al Haig, piano, and Stan Levey on drums. I guess because it seemed strange during the time of segregation. Almost everyone disregarded the fact that both cats were excellent musicians and devotees of

the modern style. I didn't hire them be- cause of their color but because they could

play our music" (p. 204-5). But readers may draw their own conclu-

sions from the diverse writings found in this volume. Even if Meltzer's underlying premise is fundamentally flawed, as I be- lieve it is, this book's value as an anthology remains firm. Containing much that is rele- vant but obscure, it will make a valuable ad- dition to any reference shelf. Without ques- tion, Meltzer has succeeded in producing an essential anthology that is at the same time challenging and controversial.

ROBERT RAWLINS

Rowan University

Artie Shaw: A Musical Biography and

Discography. By Vladimir Simosko.

(Studies in Jazz, 29.) Lanham, Md.: Scarecrow Press, 2000. [xiii, 281 p. ISBN 0-8108-3397-2. $70.]

He had it all, but he didn't want most of it. Artie Shaw, the superb clarinetist who was one of the most celebrated bandleaders during the swing era from the late thirties

through the early fifties, was known as much for his independence and his various marriages as for his music. Married eight times, his assorted wives included such lu- minaries as Lana Turner, Jerome Kern's daughter Elizabeth, Ava Gardner, Kathleen Winsor, Doris Dowling, and Evelyn Keyes.

Shaw had eight hit records that each sold a million or more copies at a time when such achievements were much more diffi- cult than they are today. He was widely rec- ognized for his musical prowess in both jazz and classical music, not only as a first-rate, artistic performer, but also as the composer of many, and the arranger of most, of his recorded works. Despite it all, an unhappy Shaw walked off the bandstand in the mid- dle of a performance in November 1939, only to return five months later with a string section added to his new band. After a wartime stint in the navy as a bandleader, a period that ended in illness and exhaus- tion, he formed a stringless band in late 1944. In 1954, he quit performing for good and has never played the clarinet again.

Always cantankerous, Shaw scorned the screaming teenage audiences who adored him, characterizing their behavior

the modern style. I didn't hire them be- cause of their color but because they could

play our music" (p. 204-5). But readers may draw their own conclu-

sions from the diverse writings found in this volume. Even if Meltzer's underlying premise is fundamentally flawed, as I be- lieve it is, this book's value as an anthology remains firm. Containing much that is rele- vant but obscure, it will make a valuable ad- dition to any reference shelf. Without ques- tion, Meltzer has succeeded in producing an essential anthology that is at the same time challenging and controversial.

ROBERT RAWLINS

Rowan University

Artie Shaw: A Musical Biography and

Discography. By Vladimir Simosko.

(Studies in Jazz, 29.) Lanham, Md.: Scarecrow Press, 2000. [xiii, 281 p. ISBN 0-8108-3397-2. $70.]

He had it all, but he didn't want most of it. Artie Shaw, the superb clarinetist who was one of the most celebrated bandleaders during the swing era from the late thirties

through the early fifties, was known as much for his independence and his various marriages as for his music. Married eight times, his assorted wives included such lu- minaries as Lana Turner, Jerome Kern's daughter Elizabeth, Ava Gardner, Kathleen Winsor, Doris Dowling, and Evelyn Keyes.

Shaw had eight hit records that each sold a million or more copies at a time when such achievements were much more diffi- cult than they are today. He was widely rec- ognized for his musical prowess in both jazz and classical music, not only as a first-rate, artistic performer, but also as the composer of many, and the arranger of most, of his recorded works. Despite it all, an unhappy Shaw walked off the bandstand in the mid- dle of a performance in November 1939, only to return five months later with a string section added to his new band. After a wartime stint in the navy as a bandleader, a period that ended in illness and exhaus- tion, he formed a stringless band in late 1944. In 1954, he quit performing for good and has never played the clarinet again.

Always cantankerous, Shaw scorned the screaming teenage audiences who adored him, characterizing their behavior

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