Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Monk and Politics

Thelonious Monk grew up in one of the most turbulent communities of his generation. Transplanted into the San Juan Hill neighborhood at a young age, Monk’s development as an artist and a person were influenced by the violence and the culture that surrounded his peaceful and tolerant family. Regardless of the crime and riots that often punctuated San Juan Hill’s atmosphere, incredible music was bred in the bohemian back alleys, resulting in the city being home to the highest concentration of black jazz musicians in New York. The strong community was forged based on the music that emanated from literally every home, which contributed greatly to Monk’s attitude as it regarded politics versus music. His simplistic view most likely stems from his mother’s attempts to raise him with good, strong values and a very non-political view of right and wrong. She reared a household where music, religion, and kindness were of utmost importance, even in a community where the papers only reported on racism, violence, and politics (Kelley 19).
Throughout his life, Monk was incensed with politics, be they racial or not, as they affected his ability to play and listen to good jazz music, which they often did. When he first started playing at the Five Spot with his quartet, the union took his drummer right in the middle of a set because he wasn’t legally allowed to work, which made Monk incredibly angry. When he was arrested, falsely convicted of possessing narcotics, and stripped of his cabaret card, his inability to play his music sent him into a deep depression. He had a very strong sense of right and wrong and, as Rouse said, “If he thinks he’s right, he sticks by what he thinks,” (Kelley 254). This is a lighthearted way to describe Monk’s very stubborn sense of self, which often resulted in uncharacteristic violence.
His relationship with Nica is one of many parts of his life that epitomizes his lack of patience with racial barriers. Having such a close relationship with a white woman in the 1930’s was not only looked down upon, but also often resulted in arrests and riots. One could assume that, based on his personality, Monk was just oblivious to the politics of his time, except for the fact that Kelley often discusses the artist’s interest in discussing such matters. It is evident, then, that Monk simply put little stock in those affairs, choosing instead to focus on his music. For the sake of music, however, he often participated in rebellion against the system, which resulted in a series of arrests, some involving Nica. At a hotel in Delaware, he was beaten to the ground by multiple policemen simply for looking for something to drink. “’Thelonious was so mad, he wouldn’t move. He took hold of the car door… and couldn’t be budged until one cop started beating on his hands with a billy club, his pianist’s hands,’” (Kelley 254). Completely intolerant of the racism rampant in society, one cannot say that Monk was not involved. As a black man, and a prominent one at that, his association with politicos and whites like Nica often pushed him into the midst of the violent racial wars occurring in America at that time. However, Monk sought to create a world, at least musically, of freedom. In his mind, the creation of music was most important, because in the violent neighborhoods he was raised in, it was the single unifier of very diverse groups of people.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Racism and Jazz

Although jazz was born out of a collision between two cultures, the issue of social stratification and racial identity was rarely addressed in early jazz history. However, in pre-war 1930 America, racism began to be recognized as an issue for the first time, especially as it applied to the growing jazz industry. As jazz became incredibly prominent as both an economy and a musical style, the race identities that were deeply engrained in the system became increasingly obvious. In the very beginning, the music that predated jazz was primarily for entertaining small groups of black slaves and allowed them to alleviate the hardships of oppression. Jazz itself developed out of a musical rebellion against the control of the white man. As jazz, and the people who developed it, migrated northwards toward Chicago and New York, the constantly changing musical style branched out from its African roots, absorbing and affecting white middle class culture. By the time it hit New York City, jazz was being played, recorded, and listened to by blacks, whites and Creoles alike. However, since the music spanned so many cultures, it allowed for vehement racism to be bred within the growing jazz world. Encouraged by the increasing incorporation of economics and money into the music, a growing dichotomy began to push black and white artists to separate sides of the industry. Since white-dominated society allowed for white artists to have easier access to bookings and high-end shows, blacks were forced to play for primarily black audiences and therefore weren’t as able to promote their music to the American masses.
The issue of racial dichotomy regarding musical success was widely ignored for many years as jazz began to emerge out of the South. Giola discusses how one of the first jazz recordings was by the Original Dixieland Band, an entirely white ensemble playing entirely black music. The opportunities that existed in the professional musical world, especially as jazz became a nationwide phenomenon, were limited to black artists. Those unwilling to make certain sacrifices that undermined their racial identity, such as hiring white managers or collaborating with mixed race bands, were often stuck in black night clubs performing for their locale only. Those that made it big were like Duke Ellington, who worked with many white men during his career, because he was willing to forgo his racial pride in order to obtain fame and success. Subcultures like the gangs of New York and Chicago encouraged the subjugation of the black artists to the white man’s economic and social power, often resulting in gang leaders having complete control over “plantations” of black musicians trying to succeed (Travis 43).
However, change came with the 1930’s and the rise of technology. Whereas at first musical technology severely limited black bands who didn’t have access to it, cheaper microphones, radios, and recording equipment suddenly allowed bands with less white influence to broadcast their art. Indubitably, with yet another increase in the popularity of jazz (as well as an easier way to publicize it to the masses) gave rise to critics of the art, many of whom were advocates for black musicians and integrated bands. Suddenly, an issue that had been blatantly ignored for several decades was on the front page of brand new jazz magazines. The commodification of jazz meant that the public took a sudden and incredible interest in the music and the lifestyle, and publication of the inner workings and racial conflicts of the industry sold papers. Critics like John Hammond capitalized on the newfound interest of the American middle class in jazz, taking the stance of defending the black musicians and advocating for their rights and talent.
Overall, it was the technology and consumer culture that arose in the 1930’s that contributed to the novel interest in the unfairness of the (long ignored) racial and social dichotomies that made up most of jazz’s history. Without the public and the audience’s investment in the widely broadcasted music and culture of jazz, the blatant racism in the system probably would have continued to go unnoticed.