It Don’t Mean a Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Idealized Swing)

The video series The March of Time was shown from 1931-1951, and provided Americans with a subjective take on current affairs or history. It reached a large amount of the American people, and “informed” many on issues they otherwise might be ignorant to. The video segment I will be focusing on is titled the “Birth of Swing”, published in 1937. To trace the history of any one branch of jazz is a difficult task, and it is all too easy to romanticize the story. Unfortunately, The March of Time does exactly that. However, the video does provide insight into one narrative that was widely disseminated on the origins of swing music. I would encourage you to watch the full, seven minute video here.

The popularity of swing music is undeniable, and The March of Time certainly addresses this. But not all swing is created equal. Swing music is described as being “accepted at Manhattan’s ultra-formal Rainbow Room” and “is indispensable at dark Harlem’s hot and noisy Savoy”. This fits into the picture painted by other musical accounts as well. To white audiences, as well as some champions of the Harlem Renaissance, jazz was music that had to be lifted up to a higher state and accepted by systems that previously would have turned from it.

Swing music as presented in “sophisticated” clubs like the Rainbow Room.

Swing music as presented in “dark” Harlem.

Ultimately, the video concludes that the Original Dixieland Jazz Band not only contributed to jazz idiom, but also was the foundation for swing music. This conclusion is not inherently flawed, and certainly has convincing evidence. Yet the context in which it is examined has some significant flaws. The narration states that “In England, Oxford students form a Hot Club. Members seek to determine whether this new music originated with the African or the Indian.”

The verbiage of “the African” and “the Indian” point towards an inherent bias in viewing those people as “other”. Arguably a third option should be included, one called “the white American”. Instead, the Original Dixieland Jazz Band becomes the savior of a sort. No, white Americans don’t need to worry about the popular swing style as coming from “the African or the Indian”. One can be perfectly comfortable enjoying the civil music developed by a group of white musicians for a respectable audience.

Bibliography

Birth of Swing. Produced by Home Box Office. http://search.alexanderstreet.com/view/work/bibliographic_entity%7Cvideo_work%7C1792778

Dvořák in Spillville

While not American in nationality, Antonín Dvořák represented much of what American music was about. Specifically, he saw the value of early African-American and Native American music as rich sources to establish an American national identity. Dvořák spent time in America from 1892 to 1895 as the director of the National Conservatory of Music in New York. During this time, many Americans wrote letters to Dvořák.

Of interest to me are two correspondences to Dvořák from Jan Josef Kovařík, the father of Dvořák’s secretary. Kovařík lived in Spillville, Iowa, where Dvořák spent some time in the summer of 1893. Both letters mention not his music, but instead offer a look into how Dvořák was treated by people of the towns he visited. The first letter was sent in May of 1893 before Dvořák’s arrival. In it, Dvořák is treated very cordially, and welcome with open arms.

“I would find you a cook; furnishings such as beds, pillows and blankets and bedsheets, all that we would have ready for you.”

Clearly, Kovařík saw value in having Dvořák visit Spillville, and wanted to ensure a pleasant stay. This one instance shows that Dvořák was not viewed as an imposter or someone swooping down to bring up a “lesser” culture. He was merely a visitor to a small town, and his host treated him with kindness and a certain level of familiarity.

The second letter was sent in December of 1894, well over a year after Dvořák had left Spillville. Kovařík seems to lament the fact the no one writes to him. He opens the letter by stating that “In vain I have been waiting to hear from you.” Despite not receiving responses from Dvořák, Kovařík continues in a friendly tone. He discusses the town’s going-ons as in a normal conversation.

“Your old friends Kumpal, Bily, Krnecek, Grandfather are all still alive—every day they trek to the little church to worship and then to gossip a little on the way back.”

Again, neither of these letters mention Dvořák’s music. However I think they still provide a valuable insight into how Dvořák was viewed as a person both before and after meeting someone. It seems that he left a positive mark on Spillville, and was gracious with his time while he was there. That speaks well to the music he might have gathered from the community there, as well as to his intentions in other areas of America.

Bibliography

Klaus Döge. “Dvořák, Antonín.” Grove Music OnlineOxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, accessed November 6, 2017, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/51222.

“Letters from Dvořák’s American Period: A Selection of Unpublished Correspondence Received by Dvořák in the United States.” In Dvorak and His World, edited by Beckerman Michael, 192-210. Princeton University Press, 1993. 

Oversimplification of Porgy and Bess

George Gershwin is credited with creating a truly American sound, through the fusion of jazz elements and concert elements. Too often, his works are taken for granted and placed on a pedestal by later listeners who seek to find what is “good” and what is “American”, or are simply repeating the mantra previously espoused. A simple example of this is a quote from the Manitou Messenger from 1950. In describing the music for a St. Olaf Band concert, the author states that “Concluding the program are some familiar selections from “Porgy and Bess” by George Gershwin who is credited with having best expressed the modern American idiom.”

This statement seems to be thrown out lightly, in order to draw in audiences to the concert. While not inherently wrong, this simple statement fails to capture the turmoil of American identity represented by Porgy and Bess. The Manitou Messenger is far from alone in ascribing blanket claims to music. As seen in the history of blues, jazz, and folk music, we have yet (if ever) to define categorical sounds for each of those topics. Gershwin has entered the vernacular as a truly American composer, but historical context is necessary to frame this claim.

Ellen Noonan presents a holistic take on the history of performances of Porgy and Bess, and the politics involved with them. Because the Manitou Messenger  article was written in the 1950, I will look at Noonan’s commentary on the state of Porgy and Bess in the 1950s. Noonan takes a strong stance on the political motives of Porgy and Bess.

“This Cold War Porgy and Bess was not just any opera; it engendered debate on a range of issues about race, representation, and politics. With the State Department briefing cast members to “keep in mind what you’d like your folks at home to read in the press about what you say” and U.S. newspapers covering the tour’s every move, Porgy and Bess was as much an intervention in the domestic politics of race as it was an exercise in creative foreign policy” (187)

Musical elements aside, Porgy and Bess became a driving force in pushing what it meant to be American. As such, the music became accepted into the realm and began to define American music. Noonan goes on to argue that Porgy and Bess mirrors the struggles of black people in the growing era of the Civil Rights movements. The U.S. government’s “propaganda efforts (like the Porgy and Bess tour) intended to convince the world that incidents of racial discrimination and violence were exceptional rather than typical” (189). If this is true, then perhaps Porgy and Bess does represent American music–that which is filled with rich history and suffers from a constant watering down and manipulation to fulfill a national identity.

Wether the identity is organic or fabricated, Porgy and Bess has certainly lent itself to an American musical identity, and it is clear that the message of American greatness trickled down into local college newspapers. A greater understanding of the history of any music is necessary in order to more fully inform a claim for an individual to express “the modern American idiom”.

Bibliography

Gershwin, Bennett, Shaw, Merrill, Stevens, Bennett, Robert Russell, . . . RCA Victor Orchestra, performer. (1950). Porgy and Bess.

Flaten, Anne. “Berglund Directs St. Olaf Band In Winter Concert This Evening”. The Manitou Messenger, No. 15, Vol. 063. February 17, 1950.

Noonan, Ellen. The Strange Career of Porgy and Bess : Race, Culture, and America’s Most Famous Opera. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2012. Accessed October 30, 2017. ProQuest Ebook Central.

Poetry in Motion: Amy Beach

Amy Beach was one of the most influential composers on American music during her life. Her grand works like the Mass in E-flat and the Gaelic Symphony made her stand out amongst composers in a newly emerging American classical scene. Beach also wrote many songs for piano and voice and one in particular that I would like to highlight is With Violets, Beach’s first official work.

With Violets was published in 1885 and the text comes from the poet Kate Vannah, and is presented in an original setting by Beach. Not much scholarship exists on Beach’s first work, in fact I was unable to find any recording of With Violets. I find this a little surprising, as With Violets captures elements of Beach’s compositional style that stayed consistent throughout her life.

Amy Beach, composer of “With Violets”

The first page of “With Violets”

 

In 1943, Beach commented on her creative process and composition in general by comparing it to poetry. In her words, a poet is “stirred by a vigorous emotional impulse” then “reflects more calmly upon this emotion” and finally “seeks to clothe the combination of emotions plus thought with the most beautiful and suitable words, meters, and rhymes.” She goes on to say that “that, in the most general way, approximates the stages in musical creation, as well.” As you read the text to With Violets (no recording exists as of yet), try conjuring up music in your head.

The violets I send to you
Will close their blue eyes on your breast;
I shall not be there, sweet, to see,
Yet do I know my flowers will rest
Within that chaste, white nest.

O little flowers, she’ll welcome you
So tenderly, so warmly!
Go, I know where you will die tonight.
But you can never, never know
The bliss of dying so.
If you could speak!

Yet she will know
What made your faces wet,
Although I fain would follow you, and tell.
There, go and die, yet never know
To what a heav’n you go.

Beach describes a very similar experience to the one you might’ve just had when she was composing her setting of Canticle of the Sun. In her words,

“The text called melodies to my mind. I went out at once under a tree, and the text took possession of me. As if from dictation, I jotted down the notes of my ‘Canticle’.”

I think it’s a stretch to say that every piece composed by Beach had this sort of musical epiphany, but the intentionality of her composition can’t be denied. For her first published work to be a setting of a poem says a lot about the artistry she saw in her compositions. Her songs exude many of the same feelings that poetry does, and I would argue that point as a major reason for her musical success.

Bibliography

Beach, Amy Marcy Cheney. With Violets. Arthur P. Schmidt & Co., Boston, monographic, 1885. Notated Music. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/sm1885.13562/. (Accessed October 22, 2017.)

Brooks, Benjamin. “The ‘How’ of Creative Composition: A Conversation with Mrs. H. H. A. Beach,” Etude, 61, no. 3 (March 1943), 151, 208-9.

Crawford, Richard. America’s Musical Life: A History. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2001

Motown, and the Impact of The Jackson 5

The Jackson 5 were a staple of the Motown era, and brought with them performance and musical styles from black spirituals and popular music to propel them into the spotlight. Time magazine describes the Motown Sound as containing “great melodies, lots of tambourines and hand clapping, blaring horns, interplay between the lead singer and his or her backup vocalists, driving bass lines and foot-slapping drum parts”. The parallels between these musical sounds and black spirituals and ring shouts are quite evident. The “interplay between the lead singer and his or her backup vocalists” is representative of the interaction seen in many ring shouts. “Foot-slapping drum parts”were played on percussive instruments, but emulate the liveliness and excitement of pattin’ juba.

The Jackson 5 experienced incredible success, and one article published in the Chicago Defender reports on the group’s wildly popular performance in Chicago in 1971. “[T]he teenage idols of the entertainment world took their places on stage beneath roving spotlights while the frantic screams of young girls, waving and stomping their feet at the mere sight of the Jackson 5, spill; lit the air with feignish delight.”

The Jackson 5 in a scene from their TV special “Goin’ Back to Indiana”

Performance had certainly come a long way since the singing of songs in slave fields. I also would argue that Motown musicians, and The Jackson 5 in particular, broke past performance practices of viewing black performers as “exotic” or “other”. Indeed, the article in the Chicago Defender comments on their performance ability rather than their racial identity. “The young entertainers swept through the evening ordeal with tremendous poise and with the assurance of old-timers. Their performance was [characterized] with a crisp sense and refreshing sense of buoyancy.”

One of the songs performed that night in Chicago was their number one hit single “I Want You Back”. This song showcases many of the Motown characteristics. Listen to the “driving bass line” in the opening of the song, and the “interplay between the lead singer and his or her backup vocalists” throughout the song.

As you’ve heard, The Jackson 5’s music is infectious, and it is no surprise that they reached international success. One critic writes on the successful aging of The Jackson 5 in the music -focused newspaper Zoo World. “Each new album releases keeps getting better and better…The musicianship is of course of the highest quality”. 

Again, commentary is focused on the music of the group. This represents a huge shift in cultural perception. While Motown groups contained predominately black musicians, it was the music that sold and topped popular music charts of the day. Musical elements dominated the conversation surrounding Motown and The Jackson 5, and such discussions highlight the past musical influences of spirituals and ring shouts on the Motown sound.

Works Cited:

Calloway, Earl. “Jackson 5 Thrills Fans, Set for TV show.” Chicago Daily Defender (Chicago IL) , Sep. 9, 1971. https://search.proquest.com/docview/494356816?accountid=351.

Cruz, Gilbert. “Motown.” Time, Jan. 12, 2009. http://content.time.com/time/arts/article/0,8599,1870975,00.html

Stein, Dave. “Skywriter.” Zoo World, May 24, 1973. http://www.rockandroll.amdigital.co.uk/Contents/ImageViewer.aspx?imageid=990610&searchmode=true&hit=first&pi=1&vpath=searchresults&prevPos=905648

Cooking with Crosby

Learned in the traditional Classical style, Will Marion Cook “brought the skills of a classically trained musician to an African-American musical theater” (Crawford, 534). Cook heavily inspired and popularized black theater productions, and made a name for himself by combining grand opera traditions with black folk culture.

Will Marion Cook, a heavy influencer in black theater

“I’m Coming Virginia” was written in 1926 by Donald Heywood with lyrics by Cook. The song has been adapted numerous times over the years and is now a staple in dixie-land repertoire. One recording of this song appears on an album by Bing Crosby and Louis Armstrong called “Havin Fun”. Recorded from 1949-1951, this two hour album features songs by Crosby and Armstrong recorded from Crosby’s radio program. What I find most intriguing is how the theatrical style of the album echoes that of Will Marion Cook’s original theatrical music and productions. 

Louis Armstrong and Bing Crosby, ca. 1950

The first track “Where the Blue of the Night” is all banter between the musicians as they settle in for the night. The first track helps to set the scene for what one can imagine was a program filled with laughter in and out of the music. I think it is a bit of stretch to say that Crosby and Armstrong were performing in this style as an homage to Cook, but I do think that Cook’s works heavily influenced the looser performance styles heard on this album. Crosby and Armstrong were close friends outside of the performance hall, and they both recognized the value created in sharing their friendship with others. Like Cook, Crosby and Armstrong did away with a traditional form of musical presentation. The constant banter mingled with the audience laughter adds a level of genuineness to the album, while the talent of singing and playing by Crosby and Armstrong respectively grounds the album in legitimacy.

As mentioned earlier, Will Marion Cook had a huge influence on the Broadway performance styles of his time. Crosby and Armstrong experienced similar success and influence on their industries. While Cook did not directly influence the duo, parallels in the theatrical performance style are evident. One thing that they also have in common? They were havin’ fun.

Works Cited

Crawford, Richard. America’s Musical Life: A History. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2001.

Dryden, Ken. “Havin’ Fun” AllMusic, accessed October 9, 2017.https://www.allmusic.com/album/havin-fun-2-cd-mw0000584963

Havin’ Fun. Recorded June 20, 2007. Storyville, 2007, Streaming Audio. Accessed October 9, 2017. http://search.alexanderstreet.com/view/work/bibliographic_entity%7Crecorded_cd%7C1023638.

Washboards and Rhythms

From fields to labels, African-American music is rooted in rhythm. One of the most evident developments of a rhythmic tradition is that of jazz. As broad of a genre as jazz is, I will focus not on the style of music, but rather the rhythmic elements that were carried over from traditional spirituals found in the fields of slaves to jazz groups of the 20th century.

As noted by Crawford, slaves were not given access to instruments in an attempt by the slave owners to prevent rallying calls of rebellion. In response, a tradition developed known as Pattin’ Juba, or a rhythmic hand slapping to accompany songs. Over time and with the abolition of slavery, instruments (among many things) were available to recently freed slaves.

As generations became more removed from the binds of ancestral slavery, the rhythmic style of Pattin’ Juba was transferred to household objects like jugs and washboards. Still in a state of poverty, the freed slaves created their own instruments to supplement the music they had sung in the fields. Below is an image of a collection of homemade instruments.

A washboard, homemade drum and homemade horns (1934-1950)

With the same accessibility as one’s own hands and feet had been in slave field, drums and washboards played a prevalent role in early post-slavery music. One group that popularized the washboard was the Washboard Rhythm Kings. Donning thus name from 1931-1934, the group was a small band of predominantly black musicians that performed jazz music. From 1930-1935, the Washboard Rhythm Kings recorded a series of collections of their music. The full album can be found here, and I would like to highlight two tracks in particular that draw strong parallels to the slave music before them.

Four members of the Washboard Rhythm Kings (c.1931)

Track #9, “Lonesome Road”, carries many familiar elements of black slave and church music. A speaker engages in dialogue with the other musicians and speaks of “a little revival meeting” and talks of how a singer will “open up this meeting with a little solo”. Following the solo, the speaker speaks to the soloist much like a preacher to a congregation member, saying “Sit down brother. Bless you, bless you.” The song carries on in a freeform fashion.

Track #2, “Washboards Get Together”, is a fantastic example of the rhythmic capabilities of a washboard. Without too much difficulty, the listener can picture a similar rhythm to the washboard rhythm being played out on arms and legs in the Juba dance. As stated previously, the accessibility of instruments like the washboard furthered the intensely rhythmic tradition of the music found in slave fields. Below is a video of the Washboard Rhythm Kings performing an unknown song that highlights the excitement in their playing.

African-American slave and church music exists as an important facet to early American music. Starting in the fields and moving eventually into the popular vernacular, the music continues to play a pivotal role in shaping American music. The rhythmic figures remain a cornerstone in modern jazz, and can be seen in performances by mid-20th century groups like the Washboard Rhythm Kings. Accessible instruments enabled further complications of rhythm, and opened up new opportunities for the rise of jazz.

Works Cited

Berresford, Mark. The Washboard Rhythm Kings, http://www.jazzhound.net/photographs/washboard-rhythm-kings.html. Accessed October 2, 2017.

Crawford, Richard. America’s Musical Life: A History. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2001.

harryoakley. “Washboard Rhythm Kings, 1933”. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ig9rs5-hMeY. Accessed October 2, 2017.

Lomax, Alan. Folk musical instruments including homemade horns, homemade drum, and washboard, between 1934 and 1950. Lomax Collection, Library of Congress Prints and Photographs. Accessed October 2, 2017.

The Washboard Rhythm Kings Collection Vol. 5 – 1930-1931. Recorded September 20, 1997. Collectors Classics, 1997, Streaming Audio. Accessed October 2, 2017. http://search.alexanderstreet.com/view/work/bibliographic_entity%7Crecorded_cd%7C1031541.

Yanow, Scott. “Washboard Rhythm Kings” AllMusic, accessed October 2, 2017. http://www.allmusic.com/artist/washboard-rhythm-kings-mn0000924443/biography

A Medicine’s Man Music: Lessons in Notation

“[The medicine man] gives no drugs, but he beats his tom-tom; he makes no prayers, but sings his incantation”

Found in a work titled “Our Wild Indians”, Colonel Richard Dodge recounts, to the best of his ability, his thirty-three years spent amongst Native American tribes. This chapter comes from his observations of the Nez Perce people. As seen in both Frances Densmore and Bruno Nettl’s works, the processes of codifying and immersion in a culture demand a high level of intent. Dodge’s recollections are more similar to the other primary sources we have seen of white settlers’ experiences with various Native American tribes.

The music of Native American people left many white settlers and anthropologists struggling to describe the sounds they heard, and led to inaccurate notations of the music. Attempts at notating non-Western music in a Western fashion have their own flaws, but it’s important to recognize that like most forms of music, Native American music exists beyond the realm of recitation and enjoyment. Therefore the notation of ceremonial music inaccurately relays the sounds, and strips the music of it’s greater purpose.

Colonel Dodge presents the music of a Nez Perce medicine man at work, and there are certain aesthetic parallels consistent with some of the sounds we have studied to be common in Native American music. One example is the constant beating of a drum. “All night long a tom-tom was beaten…”. Taken aurally out of context, the drums are no different from other drums one might hear in music. Yet in this situation, the drums were part of a larger cure for a sick infant. “All night long a tom-tom was beaten immediately over the head of the poor baby; this music accompanied by the sing-song incantations of the priest and the mournful howls of half a dozen old women”. The medicine man’s music is highly functional. It can’t, and I would argue shouldn’t, be notated as a means for performance. From an ethnography perspective, any notation of this music could be one facet of preserving the Nez Perce culture. However, beyond preservation, notation serves only to Westernize the Nez Perce.

Dodge’s full chapter from which excerpts where quoted can be found here:
Medicine Man Music

Works Cited:
Dodge, Richard Irving. 1882. Our Wild Indians: Thirty-three years’ personal experience among the Red Men of the great west. Hartford: A. D. Worthington and Company. Available through: Adam Matthew, Marlborough, American West, http://www.americanwest.amdigital.co.uk/Documents/Details/Graff_1114 [Accessed September 23, 2017].