It was with a great deal of pride that I attended the 2009 MOJA Arts Festival's jazz cabaret at the College of Charleston's Cistern last night.
It was headlined by the heralded vocalist Lalah Hathaway, daughter of the late, legendary singer Donny Hathaway.
Charlestonnan Charlton Singleton, son of the Rev. Charles and Jeanette Singleton of Awendaw, led an octet that opened up for Lalah.
It has been my contention fo a while now that the jazz musicians in the Lowcountry are as good - in a lot of instances better - than any in the world.
Some are bemused by my opinion. Some laugh. But a growing number is beginning to agree with me.
It would be confirmed in their minds if they were at The Cistern last night.
Charlton's band kicked the shit out of its set. It pierced the hot, humid air with well executed sounds that thrilled the audience.
I was hanging with artist Jonathan Green, film producer Debra Rosen, S.C. Arts Commission director Bud Ferillo and his wife, Julia. We have business on a film project of Bud's and decided to dilute our talks with some entertainment Saturday. It was perfect since I'm likely to pull Charlton in on the project as it develops. He's a helluva composer and arranger as well as a monster trumpet player.
Given the let-down that came a couple of songs into Lalah's set, we left for quieter surroundings so we could go back to work.
Charlton put this band together especially for this show, comprising Quiana Parler's rhythm section and three of his instrumentalist colleagues.
I talked with trombonist Stephen Spaulding earlier today about the band and show, congratulating him and thanking him for representing Charleston the way they did.
He talked a bit about how Charlton really wanted this one to go well. As I certainly know, Charlton is not mean spirited or vindictive but, according to Stephen, he really wanted this one to go well. I believe that.
Stephen said that over the course of rehearsals and the show, he had never seen the competitive side of Charlton like he did on this project. They're approaching 40-years old and they have known each other and played music together since middle school.
The homegrown octet, including Quiana on vocals, offered up a highly nuanced program of contemporary jazz that was dynamic, extremely tight and varied in styles. The band covered Sting, Jeff Lorber, Prince and Bob Marley, among others. Everybody swung like all get-out. Quiana's approach Saturday rivaled the attack of Chaka Khan or Aretha Franklin - on the money and full of strength and conviction.
Charlton also sang lead and backup.
Nothing I heard Lalah and her band do for as long as I stayed even came close to our people.
I doubt very seriously if anything radically changed after I left. I spoke today with some people who were there and they confirmed my suspicions.
She wasn't bad. Charlton was just amazing.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
a contradiction of race
In the aftermath of writing a story on Charleston composer Edward Hart, it occurred to me that it's impossible to tell a Charleston story without race being a factor, directly or implicit.
Hart is about to have a piece performed by the Charleston Symphony Orchestra, an interesting one, "Three Latin Rivers." I've written about him before when I was on staff at the Post and Courier. He's very good at what he does - musician, composer, producer, professor - so when I heard about the CSO gig, I pitched the Post and Courier about a story on Ed's piece. The editors agreed.
What fundamentally attracted me to the project is that it's a great Charleston story. Like Ed, I'm a native Charlestonian and I understand our aesthetic.
So, with much anticipation I began reporting the story a few weeks ago, interviewing, reflecting and researching until I got my arms around what I thought the essence of the story to be.
When I got to working on the part of the story that puts Hart's work in historical perspective, I was reminded of the work of another Charleston composer, Edmund Thornton Jenkins.
I also admire Edmund's work. In fact, when I became aware of him about 30 years ago, it was a serious epiphany for me. His story is one of the best against-all-the-odds stories I know of.
Citing Edmund in Ed's story revealed some contradictions that are always the backdrop for stories about Charleston culture and history.
Race.
Edmund is African American, the son of the legendary minister, the Rev. Daniel Joseph Jenkins, founder of the famed Jenkins Orphanage.
Ed is white and a descendant of a very prominent, music-oriented Charleston family.
Edmund's work peaked in the early twentieth century.
Ed's work is peaking in the early twenty-first century.
Edmund practiced his crafts in Europe. There was no career outlet for a black composer in Charleston during his time. He is virtually unknown.
Ed lives and works in his hometown where he is respected and receives the attention he deserves. His work is known around the world.
Ultimately, I was also reminded of the resolution of these Charleston contradictions. It has to do with the matter that makes up this place, one of the most unique in the history of the world.
Both Edmund and Ed have infused the historical and cultural makeup of Charleston into their work - concepts such as its indigenous music, land, waters, climate and way of life.
These elements are so strong, they bridge even the racial divide, the strongest one in America.
Hart is about to have a piece performed by the Charleston Symphony Orchestra, an interesting one, "Three Latin Rivers." I've written about him before when I was on staff at the Post and Courier. He's very good at what he does - musician, composer, producer, professor - so when I heard about the CSO gig, I pitched the Post and Courier about a story on Ed's piece. The editors agreed.
What fundamentally attracted me to the project is that it's a great Charleston story. Like Ed, I'm a native Charlestonian and I understand our aesthetic.
So, with much anticipation I began reporting the story a few weeks ago, interviewing, reflecting and researching until I got my arms around what I thought the essence of the story to be.
When I got to working on the part of the story that puts Hart's work in historical perspective, I was reminded of the work of another Charleston composer, Edmund Thornton Jenkins.
I also admire Edmund's work. In fact, when I became aware of him about 30 years ago, it was a serious epiphany for me. His story is one of the best against-all-the-odds stories I know of.
Citing Edmund in Ed's story revealed some contradictions that are always the backdrop for stories about Charleston culture and history.
Race.
Edmund is African American, the son of the legendary minister, the Rev. Daniel Joseph Jenkins, founder of the famed Jenkins Orphanage.
Ed is white and a descendant of a very prominent, music-oriented Charleston family.
Edmund's work peaked in the early twentieth century.
Ed's work is peaking in the early twenty-first century.
Edmund practiced his crafts in Europe. There was no career outlet for a black composer in Charleston during his time. He is virtually unknown.
Ed lives and works in his hometown where he is respected and receives the attention he deserves. His work is known around the world.
Ultimately, I was also reminded of the resolution of these Charleston contradictions. It has to do with the matter that makes up this place, one of the most unique in the history of the world.
Both Edmund and Ed have infused the historical and cultural makeup of Charleston into their work - concepts such as its indigenous music, land, waters, climate and way of life.
These elements are so strong, they bridge even the racial divide, the strongest one in America.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
james jamerson jr.
I just got through listening to "I'll Be There" as arranged by James Jameson Jr., son of the late, great James Jamerson, a towering American music figure who played all that bass on Motown Records hits during its heyday, from 1959 through 1971.
This is the Berry Gordy song that was a hit for the Jackson 5 in 1970.
The tune is set to be released next month but I got a preview through an MP3 sent to me by James' cousin, my friend and colleague, Anthony McKnight.
Anthony and I, along with others, have been preaching and promoting Jamerson Sr.'s work for about 15 years now, sharing with the world that this son of the South Carolina Lowcountry changed the face of popular culture with his music.
Listen to any Motown record from this time period and you will hear - and feel - Jamerson's indelible stamp, a progressive, complex, soulful, rendering of modern music that sings to your heart and mind.
Two of Jamerson's children, Jimmy Jr. and Derrick, and many of his cousins, including Anthony, play music and sing professionally. For a while now, Anthony has been working on a recording of tunes composed and performed by Jamerson family members.
The record I was checking out will be added to that compendium. Jimmy Jr., a renowned studio bassist in his own right, is reviving his career and just sent Anthony a take of "I'll Be There."
It's fabulous.
It romps with the signature Jamerson propulsion, underpinning the lush tracks of vocals, drums and saxophone.
Ever the innovator - just like his dad - Jimmy Jr. plays here a six-string bass that facilitates his playing melody like a guitar, a real tour de force. The soaring feel is reminiscent of the stuff Jamerson Sr. used to do on his 1962 Fender Precision after he put down his upright.
Fender, which just inducted Jamerson into its Hall of Fame, has made a custom version of the famous instrument and sent one to Jimmy Jr.
Anthony tells me he loves it. Jimmy Jr. told him he can't put it down.
Good for us.
Jimmy Jr.'s return to the scene is an important step in Anthony's project.
Jimmy Jr. told me in a telephone conversation tonight "I'll Be There" is a contemporary jazz tune, the direction in which he's taking his playing.
After all, his dad was a jazz bassist.
We all feel we're a major step closer to the fruition of the best way to honor James Sr.'s legacy, a family recording.
This is the Berry Gordy song that was a hit for the Jackson 5 in 1970.
The tune is set to be released next month but I got a preview through an MP3 sent to me by James' cousin, my friend and colleague, Anthony McKnight.
Anthony and I, along with others, have been preaching and promoting Jamerson Sr.'s work for about 15 years now, sharing with the world that this son of the South Carolina Lowcountry changed the face of popular culture with his music.
Listen to any Motown record from this time period and you will hear - and feel - Jamerson's indelible stamp, a progressive, complex, soulful, rendering of modern music that sings to your heart and mind.
Two of Jamerson's children, Jimmy Jr. and Derrick, and many of his cousins, including Anthony, play music and sing professionally. For a while now, Anthony has been working on a recording of tunes composed and performed by Jamerson family members.
The record I was checking out will be added to that compendium. Jimmy Jr., a renowned studio bassist in his own right, is reviving his career and just sent Anthony a take of "I'll Be There."
It's fabulous.
It romps with the signature Jamerson propulsion, underpinning the lush tracks of vocals, drums and saxophone.
Ever the innovator - just like his dad - Jimmy Jr. plays here a six-string bass that facilitates his playing melody like a guitar, a real tour de force. The soaring feel is reminiscent of the stuff Jamerson Sr. used to do on his 1962 Fender Precision after he put down his upright.
Fender, which just inducted Jamerson into its Hall of Fame, has made a custom version of the famous instrument and sent one to Jimmy Jr.
Anthony tells me he loves it. Jimmy Jr. told him he can't put it down.
Good for us.
Jimmy Jr.'s return to the scene is an important step in Anthony's project.
Jimmy Jr. told me in a telephone conversation tonight "I'll Be There" is a contemporary jazz tune, the direction in which he's taking his playing.
After all, his dad was a jazz bassist.
We all feel we're a major step closer to the fruition of the best way to honor James Sr.'s legacy, a family recording.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
careful what you ask for
I'm involved in a lot of things and I care deeply about them all. There's my Post and Courier column, JazzBeat(s), the Charleston Jazz Initiative, the Charleston Jazz Orchestra and Jazz Artists of Charleston, a small, private nonprofit presenting and advocacy organization.
I'm most active right now as a aboard member with JAC, given its repeating presentation schedule, organizational development and administrative work. Along with the column, it is my highest profile endeavor so it attracts quite a bit of attention.
Things are going extrememly well with JAC. It is only a year-and-a-half old but it's already a fixture on the Charleston jazz scene, especially as it presents a night club series in the spring and CJO concerts every quarter.
The biggest plus, however, is that constituents - musicians, fans and supporters - have really bought in to our mission. They applaud us all the time about our success and our leading the charge in advancing jazz' presence in Charleston.
They also regale us for our efficiency and production values with regard to live shows. They have come to expect high quality shows that are well presented.
At the same time, our success has heightened expectations from people. While JAC continues to scratch, claw and generally struggle to do what it does, things seem effortless by the time they reach the stage. It seems as if these concerts come about from some kind of magic.
Poof. They just appear.
This is perhaps why we get requests from people for videos, pictures and recordings of our events all the time, sometimes the morning after a show.
Well, it doesn't quite go like that.
We do shoot, tape and record. But it's primarily for archival purposes. And we're so busy, as are our technicians, we rarely see tape and pictures or hear audio from programs until weeks or months after a concert.
When told this after a request for copies, people often look incredulously at us as if to say how can these things not be ready. Then their body language says we just don't want to fulfill their request.
Not true.
To us, material we capture is for our future use in producing CD's, commercial videos, documenatries and books. We are in no rush to do that. It's all we can handle to keep up with imminent demands for the day-to-day operation of the enterprise.
Needless to say, that goal would never be reached if we handed out raw material from our shows for social purposes. Not to mention the fact that music or images could end up on someone else's commercial venture, even if not intended.
We live in fear of that, not in fear of musicians, family and friends just wanting to hear and see reproductions of a great musical experience.
Ironically, these requests probably wouldn't be at play if the music weren't performed and presented so well.
We're a victim of our own success, I guess.
With all the heartache that comes from denying the requests, we're holding out for the long term.
Then we'll share.
I'm most active right now as a aboard member with JAC, given its repeating presentation schedule, organizational development and administrative work. Along with the column, it is my highest profile endeavor so it attracts quite a bit of attention.
Things are going extrememly well with JAC. It is only a year-and-a-half old but it's already a fixture on the Charleston jazz scene, especially as it presents a night club series in the spring and CJO concerts every quarter.
The biggest plus, however, is that constituents - musicians, fans and supporters - have really bought in to our mission. They applaud us all the time about our success and our leading the charge in advancing jazz' presence in Charleston.
They also regale us for our efficiency and production values with regard to live shows. They have come to expect high quality shows that are well presented.
At the same time, our success has heightened expectations from people. While JAC continues to scratch, claw and generally struggle to do what it does, things seem effortless by the time they reach the stage. It seems as if these concerts come about from some kind of magic.
Poof. They just appear.
This is perhaps why we get requests from people for videos, pictures and recordings of our events all the time, sometimes the morning after a show.
Well, it doesn't quite go like that.
We do shoot, tape and record. But it's primarily for archival purposes. And we're so busy, as are our technicians, we rarely see tape and pictures or hear audio from programs until weeks or months after a concert.
When told this after a request for copies, people often look incredulously at us as if to say how can these things not be ready. Then their body language says we just don't want to fulfill their request.
Not true.
To us, material we capture is for our future use in producing CD's, commercial videos, documenatries and books. We are in no rush to do that. It's all we can handle to keep up with imminent demands for the day-to-day operation of the enterprise.
Needless to say, that goal would never be reached if we handed out raw material from our shows for social purposes. Not to mention the fact that music or images could end up on someone else's commercial venture, even if not intended.
We live in fear of that, not in fear of musicians, family and friends just wanting to hear and see reproductions of a great musical experience.
Ironically, these requests probably wouldn't be at play if the music weren't performed and presented so well.
We're a victim of our own success, I guess.
With all the heartache that comes from denying the requests, we're holding out for the long term.
Then we'll share.
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