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.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
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.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
courage
Quentin Baxter's courage never ceases to amaze me.
As I've written in other outlets many times before, he is multi-faceted and is much more than the dynamite drummer that he is day to day.
Evidence of this took place Saturday at the Riviera Theater where he staged a hand-picked band that played a benefit concert for Jazz Artists of Charleston, a non-profit group in Charleston that benefits musicians, fans and everybody else interested in America's classical music.
Baxter put pianist Tommy Gill, saxophonist Mark Sterbank, trumpeter Charlton Singleton, bassist Kevin Hamilton and himself around Savannah trombonist extraordinaire Teddy Adams.
Baxter's courageous move this time was to offer a program of only originals by Adams, a very substantial composer as well as performer.
This is no small feat, especially since the audience comprised mostly lay people, not jazz aficianados who would be more open to a program of songs other than easily accessible standards.
Yes, it was the band that pulled it off but the bandleader's vision, execution and strength made it happen.
As I've written in other outlets many times before, he is multi-faceted and is much more than the dynamite drummer that he is day to day.
Evidence of this took place Saturday at the Riviera Theater where he staged a hand-picked band that played a benefit concert for Jazz Artists of Charleston, a non-profit group in Charleston that benefits musicians, fans and everybody else interested in America's classical music.
Baxter put pianist Tommy Gill, saxophonist Mark Sterbank, trumpeter Charlton Singleton, bassist Kevin Hamilton and himself around Savannah trombonist extraordinaire Teddy Adams.
Baxter's courageous move this time was to offer a program of only originals by Adams, a very substantial composer as well as performer.
This is no small feat, especially since the audience comprised mostly lay people, not jazz aficianados who would be more open to a program of songs other than easily accessible standards.
Yes, it was the band that pulled it off but the bandleader's vision, execution and strength made it happen.
Friday, February 20, 2009
JazzBeat(s) response
I got off to a great start with my new column in the Post and Courier's Preview entertainment magazine on Thursday.
There was a nice, photographic key from page 1A to it in the section. Editor Marcus Amaker laid it out nicely, complete with a cool picture and, with all due modesty, a minimum of changes from what I originally wrote.
He's been completely supportive from the beginning of the idea and through the run up to publication.
He believes; and nothing that happened Thursday has changed that. We exchanged e-mails Thursday afternoon and he's ready to continue.
So am I.
The initial response has been strong and positive. I got great complements, and that's cool, but among the ones I like the most are those who see it as "our" space, the local jazz community, that is.
After all, we are a family. We're not clannish (although we and others everywhere are accused of being such); it's just that we're a minority and we tend to band together for support. We also enjoy sharing our love of the music with others and this column is a helluva way to do that.
We can even show off.
Jazz is America's gift to world culture. It's multi-faceted and sparkles with beauty and invention. That's a big part of what attracts us fans. So, when there's an outlet for turning others on to it, we bask in it.
Here's to a good, long run of furthering the good news.
There was a nice, photographic key from page 1A to it in the section. Editor Marcus Amaker laid it out nicely, complete with a cool picture and, with all due modesty, a minimum of changes from what I originally wrote.
He's been completely supportive from the beginning of the idea and through the run up to publication.
He believes; and nothing that happened Thursday has changed that. We exchanged e-mails Thursday afternoon and he's ready to continue.
So am I.
The initial response has been strong and positive. I got great complements, and that's cool, but among the ones I like the most are those who see it as "our" space, the local jazz community, that is.
After all, we are a family. We're not clannish (although we and others everywhere are accused of being such); it's just that we're a minority and we tend to band together for support. We also enjoy sharing our love of the music with others and this column is a helluva way to do that.
We can even show off.
Jazz is America's gift to world culture. It's multi-faceted and sparkles with beauty and invention. That's a big part of what attracts us fans. So, when there's an outlet for turning others on to it, we bask in it.
Here's to a good, long run of furthering the good news.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
new voice
I've been in talks for a few weeks with Marcus Amaker, editor of Preview, the weekly entertainment magazine of the Post and Courier, Charleston's daily newspaper, about a jazz column.
I heard from him yesterday saying it was a go.
So now, I have a new voice, a new outlet for my musings on my favorite art form totally from my point of view, no less.
I'm no stranger to the newspaper. Until a few months ago I worked there for 24 years, doing everything from clerking to sports writing to copy editing to feature writing to arts and entertainment criticism to community news gathering.
Writing about jazz is not the most of what I did there but it was my favorite.
I'm a longtime fan and I've been in tune with it for one of its most interesting periods, the last half of the twentieth century until now.
Over the course of its 200-plus year history, the paper of record in one of the country's most historic cities has not been known for its embrace of modern culture.
Evidently, that's changing - slowly, but inexorably.
I'm glad to have the shot.
I heard from him yesterday saying it was a go.
So now, I have a new voice, a new outlet for my musings on my favorite art form totally from my point of view, no less.
I'm no stranger to the newspaper. Until a few months ago I worked there for 24 years, doing everything from clerking to sports writing to copy editing to feature writing to arts and entertainment criticism to community news gathering.
Writing about jazz is not the most of what I did there but it was my favorite.
I'm a longtime fan and I've been in tune with it for one of its most interesting periods, the last half of the twentieth century until now.
Over the course of its 200-plus year history, the paper of record in one of the country's most historic cities has not been known for its embrace of modern culture.
Evidently, that's changing - slowly, but inexorably.
I'm glad to have the shot.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
You never know
You never know where things are going to come from.
An accidental meeting, which has proven to be purposeful, with an author who is now a friend has led to the near completion of a book project that is one of the highlights of my publishing career.
Hans Offringa, a writer and expert on whisky form The Netherlands, brought me on to his latest book project, "Whisky and Jazz," while visiting the United States with his American wife, Becky, about a year and a half ago. I'm a contributing editor.
The "whisky couple," as they're known internationally, moved around Charleston socially on that visit and they casually talked about their latest effort. They were urged to hook up with me by many of the people they talked to.
My involvement in things jazz is known by many.
We met for drinks and live music at the Charleston Grill and then dinner at FIG through the auspices of Deneen Bell, a friend who just happened to be the property manager for the house the Offringas were renting during their stay. When they asked her if they knew me, she said yes and got us together.
We hit it off - personally and professionally - and agreed to a deal that had me editing the jazz side of Hans' book.
It was a collegial marriage made in heaven.
We worked well together since then and grew to like each other very much which, in my view, has led to a wonderful product.
Hans is a jazz fan; and the premise of the book is an analytical comparison of the characteristics of 10 whiskies with the musical traits of 10 of his favorite jazz musicians.
If I say so myself, the result of our efforts is a beautiful book that is totally unique and a serious contribution to the jazz literary canon.
The publishers left us alone to do our thing, trusted us and encouraged us to put out this masterpiece.
While it superficially appears that this was luck or happenstance, I believe it was providence.
The jazz gods smiled on us - and on me, once again.
As I've learned over the last four decades, jazz is about more than music.
This is more evidence.
An accidental meeting, which has proven to be purposeful, with an author who is now a friend has led to the near completion of a book project that is one of the highlights of my publishing career.
Hans Offringa, a writer and expert on whisky form The Netherlands, brought me on to his latest book project, "Whisky and Jazz," while visiting the United States with his American wife, Becky, about a year and a half ago. I'm a contributing editor.
The "whisky couple," as they're known internationally, moved around Charleston socially on that visit and they casually talked about their latest effort. They were urged to hook up with me by many of the people they talked to.
My involvement in things jazz is known by many.
We met for drinks and live music at the Charleston Grill and then dinner at FIG through the auspices of Deneen Bell, a friend who just happened to be the property manager for the house the Offringas were renting during their stay. When they asked her if they knew me, she said yes and got us together.
We hit it off - personally and professionally - and agreed to a deal that had me editing the jazz side of Hans' book.
It was a collegial marriage made in heaven.
We worked well together since then and grew to like each other very much which, in my view, has led to a wonderful product.
Hans is a jazz fan; and the premise of the book is an analytical comparison of the characteristics of 10 whiskies with the musical traits of 10 of his favorite jazz musicians.
If I say so myself, the result of our efforts is a beautiful book that is totally unique and a serious contribution to the jazz literary canon.
The publishers left us alone to do our thing, trusted us and encouraged us to put out this masterpiece.
While it superficially appears that this was luck or happenstance, I believe it was providence.
The jazz gods smiled on us - and on me, once again.
As I've learned over the last four decades, jazz is about more than music.
This is more evidence.
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