[Inspired by the
anniversary of Charlie
Parker’s death—on which more in Thursday’s post—this week I’ll be
AmericanStudying some figures and issues related to the very American musical genre of jazz.
Please share your own responses and thoughts for a swinging crowd-sourced
weekend post!]
On the musical
and the cultural legacies of the hugely influential composer.
I’ve written
before about the unavoidably
cross-cultural origins of rock and roll in America, the ways in which the
histories of even an
individual hit song (much less artists, groups, recording studios, and so
on) were connected to African American blues singers, Jewish American
songwriters, European American guitarists and performers, and so on. When it
comes to the origins
and history of jazz in America, on the other hand, there’s a far more close
relationship between the musical genre and a particular
American community: African Americans, and specifically the artistic
traditions and legacies present within that community as of the late 19th
and early 20th centuries. Yet while a history of jazz thus cannot
ignore or minimize these communal and cultural connections, neither should it
focus on such cultural or historical issues at the expense of an engagement
with the genre’s musical influences, innovations, and importance.
An excellent
case in point is an analysis of Scott
Joplin (1868-1917), the “King of Ragtime Writers” and perhaps the single
most influential predecessor
of jazz in America. Joplin was without question an African American artist,
one strongly
influenced by his heritage, his North Texas family and late 19th
century upbringing, and contemporary African American artists such as Ben Harney. Yet I would
argue that we don’t need to know any of that to appreciate Joplin’s titanic
talent and the success and significance of his works: from the most famous,
such as “The Maple Leaf
Rag” (1899) and “The
Entertainer” (1900); to his longer works, such as the opera A Guest
of Honor (1903, inspired by Booker
T. Washington’s 1901 dinner with Teddy Roosevelt!); and including works
that have been almost entirely forgotten, such as the moving ragtime waltz “Bethena” (1904),
written after the tragic death of his second wife only 10 weeks after their
wedding. Indeed, I think Joplin and classical
composer Aaron Copland make for a very compelling, complementary pair, highlighting
the early 20th century development of an American music that was both
unique and in conversation with international traditions and trends.
Yet at the same
time, an analysis of Joplin’s musical mastery and legacy doesn’t have to—and shouldn’t—mean
an elision of his cultural and racial influences and themes. Take his final,
never fully performed opera, Treemonisha (1910). Set
in 1884, on a former slave plantation in the Texarkana/Red River region of
Joplin’s childhood, the
opera’s title character is a young African American woman who is taught to
read and helps her community resist a band of wicked conjurers. If that story
and its themes are in conversation with contemporary African
American artists like Charles Chesnutt, Joplin’s musical choices in the
opera were likewise among his most informed by African American traditions and
styles, from spirituals and the blues to a call-and-response sequence. There
are many possible reasons why the opera was never fully published or performed
in its era (and was lost until a
rediscovery in 1970), but among them might well be the fact that it links
Joplin’s musical talents to his cultural and racial heritage and perspective
far more fully than many of his other works. Understanding Joplin isn’t solely
about such links, but we should certainly remember them as well.
Next jazzy
connection tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you
think? Jazzy connections you’d share?
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteI studied Scott Joplin at a very young age...I even learned "The Maple Leaf Rag" when I was 12.....he is amazing!
ReplyDeleteVery cool, thanks for the comment!
ReplyDeleteBen