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Books by Floyd W.
Hayes, III
A Turbulent Voyage: Readings in African
American Studies /
Forty
Acres and a Mule: The Rape of Colored Americans
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Jazz Moves: Studying Black Progressive
Music
Paper delivered by Floyd W. Hayes, III
African American Jazz Caucus/
Jazz Research Institute Conference
North Carolina Central
University April 17, 2008
Thank you, Dr.
Ridley, for your kind introduction. I also want to
thank you for inviting me to be this morning’s guest
speaker.
I am pleased to
return to North Carolina Central University in this
capacity. I have been an “Eagle” for more than 40
years, graduating in the class of 1967. In October,
2007, we celebrated our 40th reunion. From a class of
approximately 250, about 100 of us returned to NCCU for
Homecoming last year. Collectively, we made a class
gift of approximately $75,000 to NCCU.
It is significant
that we come together in this second annual conference
of the Jazz Research Institute here at North Carolina
Central University. As you know, NCCU has taken the
lead as the first of the Historically Black Colleges and
Universities to establish this kind of institute, which
is designed to preserve our musical and cultural
heritage and its impact on the world. The collaboration
between Dr. Ira Wiggins, Director of Jazz Studies at
NCCU, and Dr. Larry Ridley, Executive Director of the
African American Jazz Caucus, in establishing the Jazz
Research Institute is monumental. Therefore, please
join me in congratulating them for their outstanding
achievement. We also need to do everything possible in
order to support this important endeavor, now and well
into the future.
I want to talk
briefly about the forces that encouraged me to develop a
course I presently offer at Johns Hopkins University:
Bebop,
Modernism and Change. While I know that the
Jazz Research Institute here will and should emphasize
performance, music theory, and production, I trust that
the institute will have space for courses like this one
that focus on the intersections among jazz or black
progressive music and literature, history, philosophy,
sociology, politics, and economics. For me, jazz also
is an intellectual project—it is a way of looking at the
world—that expresses the tragicomic life experiences of
black people in an anti-black world. Jazz, as black
progressive music, is both performance and discourse.
We need to pay attention to all aspects of jazz in
order to preserve our musical and cultural heritage.
In the early 1950s,
my parents introduced me to jazz. I remember listening
to those old 78 rpm records, featuring Louis Armstrong,
Billie Holiday, Lionel Hampton, and Erroll Garner. My
father was especially captivated by Garner, who hummed
as he played the piano. I also had an uncle, who was a
jazz saxophonist. He played in a number of night clubs
in Los Angeles. One night, I went along with him to a
gig in a Hermosa Beach night club.
From those early
years, I retained an interest in Black progressive music
that has lasted to this day. Initially, I was a
listener, but I soon became a student of our music. It
was in the 1960s that I began to understand jazz as a
dimension of our complex and complicated historical
experience in the Americas. In those days, I read liner
notes on albums, seeking to learn as much as I could
about jazz musicians and their music.
As a Black Power
adherent and graduate student in African Studies at UCLA
in the late 1960s, I was captivated by the possibilities
of revolutionary nationalism. The first book I read on
the subject of black progressive music was Frank
Kofsky’s radical 1970 study,
Black Nationalism and the
Revolution in Music. By the 1980s and 1990s, I was
reading such magazines as Downbeat and then Jazz Times.
What caught my attention was the paucity of Black jazz
critics. Black jazz artists always were shown on the
magazine covers, featured in interviews, and written
about in cover stories. Records reviews appeared in
every issue. But the writers were mainly, almost
always, white.
In this model, black musicians only were
portrayed as performers. I began to wonder how jazz
artists interpreted their music—what the music meant to
them. How did they look at the world, and how did their
music reflect and express their world view? Clearly,
the music spoke to the life experiences of black
people. Here was the substance of the blues-jazz
aesthetic; musicians and their music always articulated
a message. Examples are legion:
Louis Armstrong’s
“Can’t Give You Anything But Love,”
Billie Holiday’s
“Strange Fruit,” Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie,
“Salt Peanuts,” Coltrane’s “Alabama,”
Nina Simone’s
“Mississippi God Damn,” or
Miles Davis’ classic album,
Kind of Blue.
By the time that I
joined the Department of Political Science and the
African American Studies and Center at Purdue in 1991, I
had begun to think about developing a course on some
aspect of jazz, but I wasn’t quite sure about its
focus. I became close friends with Antonio Zamora, jazz
saxophonist and Director of the Black Cultural Center at
the university. When he and his Indianapolis
ensemble—this aggregation usually consisted of guitarist
Steve Wheatley, drummer Lawrence Clark, and organist Al
Walton—performed at Knickerbockers, a local pub in
Lafayette, Indiana, I often would help Tony set up. He
stored the group’s equipment in a location around the
corner from Knickerbockers. It was a major task moving
the heavy organ, which was Big Al’s thrown. On one
occasion, Tony even took me along to a gig in Ohio.
These experiences,
along with discussions with Tony and the members of his
ensemble about black progressive music, led me to begin
serious research for a course that focused on jazz.
Significantly, Tony became my friend, mentor, and
brother. He helped me to understand the importance of
struggling to interpret the meanings of jazz and the
intent of jazz artists. Our relationship continues, as
Tony and I talk at least twice a week.
As we all know,
Black music is the history of America’s blues people.
Beginning in the history of American enslavement,
captured African slaves and their American descendants
created work songs, spirituals, gospels, ragtime, jazz,
blues, rhythm & blues, and contemporary rap and hip-hop
culture. Even the different forms of jazz (Dixieland,
Swing, Bebop, Avant-garde, Free Jazz, and contemporary
Smooth Jazz) represent Blacks people’s struggle to
hammer out a narrative about their tragicomic existence
in the world. With a genealogy in both sacred and
secular consciousness, Black progressive music is a way
of looking at the world, a strategy of theorizing the
Black existential situation in the world, and a means of
engaging the world—in the face of white supremacy and
anti-Black racism. And like Black life, jazz moves—it
is creative, innovative, and improvisational.
Years ago, I came
across the following statement about jazz by the late
great percussionist, composer, educator, and activist
Max Roach. In a 1962 essay, entitled “Jazz,” he wrote:
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“Jazz” is an extenuation
of the African chants and songs. It is an
extenuation of the pain and suffering of
those long, and too often, destinationless
trips across the Atlantic Ocean, deep in the
holes of those dark, damp, filthy, human
slave ships, endured by chained, innocent,
black men and children. “Jazz” is an
extenuation of the humiliations suffered by
these same human beings while being sold as
cattle or produce. It is an extenuation of
the pain of the whip, the assaulter, the
procurer, the “driva’ man,” the patrol
wagons, the kidnapper, the sunup to sundown
slave field and plantation. It is the
extension of many, many lynchings,
castrations, and other “improvisations” of
genocide on these same black men, women and
children. “Jazz” is an extension of the
black man, “freed,” who found himself still
shackled to the same chain, all shinned up,
when he unwittingly ventured out into
“their” free world of opportunity and
wealth, only to be assaulted, whipped,
murdered, and raped some more. The
“Spiritual,” “Race Music,” “Rhythm and
Blues,” “Dixieland,” “Jazz,” (and never,
yet, any of the music named by its creators,
but by the disdainful, master observer).
“Jazz” is an extension of the black artist
being relegated to practice his or her
craft, even today, under these intolerable,
too similar, conditions.
Max Roach |
Reading Roach’s was
the final motivation I needed to begin to formulate my
ideas for a course on Black progressive music that
fitted with my own education, outlook, and sense of jazz
as a narrative of the life experiences of Blacks in the
African Diaspora.
Since joining the
Department of Political Science and the Center for
Africana Studies at Johns Hopkins University in 2004, I
have been teaching
Bebop,
Modernism and Change.
Although jazz had emerged out of the lived experiences
of African-descended Americans during the early decades
of the twentieth century, many white American musicians
and entrepreneurs had appropriated swing jazz by the
1930s. Reflecting the structure of Jim Crow segregation
across the landscape of America, large swing jazz bands
often excluded black musicians, denying them the means
to maintain economic self-sufficiency. Hence, as always
in America, white supremacy, cultural appropriation, and
capitalist exploitation were dynamic elements of a
social structure of domination.
By the 1940s, a
cadre of young black American musicians—the stellar list
includes Charlie Parker,
Dizzy Gillespie, and
Thelonious
Monk—set in motion a paradigm shift that challenged
American culture’s social and musical inequality. The
bebop musical revolution was characterized by innovative
and improvisational moves as black American and
Afro-Cuban creative artists produced a new, intense, and
rebellious sound that reverberated throughout American
society. The seminar explores the social and political
content, meanings, and intent of jazz music, in general,
and bebop music, in particular. While the major
historical focus is from the 1940s to the 1960s, the
seminar also examines the broader history of black
progressive music (jazz) and its impact on the social
transformation of modern America. The ascendancy of
bebop, as an intellectual and musical system, embodied
and reflected the political and social conditions of the
turbulent 1940s—the frustrations, aspirations,
subversive sensibilities, and protests of a progressive
group of black American musicians.
As World War II
ended, black Americans once again began to challenge the
national and global structures of white supremacy,
economic exploitation, and cultural imperialism.
Demanding to experience the democracy they had fought
for during the war, black Americans called for the end
of segregation in America and the termination of
colonialism in Africa. It was during these moments of
agitation and protest that black creative artists began
to express a new musical sensibility that embodied,
reflected, and accompanied the new social movement for
black liberation.
For numerous
historical reasons, particularly since the advent of
modernity and the rise of the Enlightenment in Western
Europe during the 18th century, the production of
Africana cultural and literary discourse has been a
political act. In particular, black American
culture—and black culture in Latin America and the
Caribbean—emerged within the context of Western cultural
domination—the Atlantic Slave Trade, chattel slavery,
imperialism, colonialism, segregation, white supremacy,
and anti-black hatred and violence. These structures
and processes of domination also served as the cultural
milieu in which Western Europeans and Euro-Americans
came to define and represent their African captives and
their American descendants as negative and inferior,
often sub-human. Hence, the life experiences of native
black Americans have been characterized by intense
political, social, and cultural struggle.
Black American
creative artists have themselves engaged in various
forms of resistance in the historic and monumental
battle for black liberation, human rights, and
self-determination. In many ways, reflecting black
people’s experiences with the underside of modern
American culture, beboppers and their complex and
improvisational music might be considered
counter-modernists, as they both embraced and challenged
modernist American culture. In the broadest sense,
black American music tells the story of the black
experience in America; it also exposes the illusions of
American democracy. In denying freedom, justice,
equality, the consent of the governed, and the pursuit
of happiness to blacks, white Americans historically
devalued the nation’s highest political values.
How is it that the
musical and cultural production of a people so despised,
oppressed, and exploited could become so important to
America? How did this music become America’s music,
actually long before Representative John Conyers led the
passage in 1987 of the House Resolution declaring Jazz
as a valuable national American treasure? Jazz
performers and their music also have had profound
effects on American culture. One only needs to examine
the literary movement of the 1940s and 1950s, which came
to be known as the Beat generation. Here was a movement
in which poets, essayists, and novelists employed a jazz
cadence in their writing. Today, jazz has audiences and
adherents around the world.
In a world in chaos
and on the verge of international anarchy, how can we
understand and value black American progressive music?
Through an historical examination of this musical
tradition, seminar members have the opportunity to
reflect upon the complex meanings, intent, and content
of bebop music. The seminar stresses an
interdisciplinary approach to knowledge (literary,
historical, political, cultural, and philosophical),
allowing for a reconsideration of the meaning of bebop
music and the significance of its black American
creators with respect to the changing character of
American society.
As Julie Thompson Klein asserts in
her book,
Crossing Boundaries: Knowledge, Disciplinarities, and Interdisciplinarities: “[A]n
interdisciplinarity rooted in critical thought reinvents
scholarly and public discourse by regenerating method
and epistemology. When intellectuality is premised on
rediscovery and rethinking, resocialization and
reintellectualization, interdisciplinarity becomes not
just a way of doing things but a new way of knowing.”
Thus, interdisciplinarity recognizes the
inter-connectedness that propels our increasingly
complex society and its cultural production and
understands that the measure of competence for its
members will reflect their ability to grasp this
characteristic. In the final analysis, the seminar is
designed to equip students with a method of inquiry that
will be useful in understanding the complex
interconnections of bebop music and social change in
America from the 1940s to the 1960s and beyond.
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Required Texts:
Anderson, Iain. 2007.
This
is Our Music: Free Jazz, the Sixties, and American
Culture. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.
Jones, LeRoi (Baraka, Amiri).
1963/2002.
Blues People: Negro Music in White America.
New York: HarperCollins Publishers.
O’Meally, Robert G. 1998. Ed.
The
Jazz Cadence of American Culture. New York: Columbia
University Press.
Porter, Eric. 2002.
What Is This
Thing Called Jazz?:
African American Musicians as
Artists, Critics, and Activists. Berkeley: University of
California Press.
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To access the web version of this
course, use the following link:
http://webhost5.nts.jhu.edu/africana/jazz/jazz/
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The new Jazz
Research Institute at NCCU has the potential for
providing a site that fosters a variety opportunities,
which might include the following:
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Seminars, lectures,
workshops, performances given by
professional jazz musicians/educators.
Retired musicians need to be invited, for
students and young musicians can learn so
much of value from the life experiences and
perspectives of older and retired jazz
artists. Importantly, we need to celebrate
master musicians while they are alive;
Research on all aspects
of black progressive music by visiting
scholars;
Seminars on the
historical, political, economic,
sociological, literary, and philosophical
dimensions of black progressive music, in
which scholars can interact with jazz
educators, jazz performers, and young and
jazz students;
The specific development of black jazz
critics, especially those who pay particular
attention to black jazz musicians as
artists, intellectuals, activists, and
critics;
The celebration of black progressive music
in black communities in Durham and Raleigh.
Jazz is for the people; it is the people’s
music; it speaks to life experiences of
America’s blues people. |
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The Beat Generation: Silencing Blackness
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December 2, 2004
Ms. Cynthia
Requardt
Curator
"On the Road: The Beat Writers
of New York and San Francisco"
MSE Library
Johns Hopkins University
Dear Ms. Requardt:
Each time I visit the MSE Library and observe the
exhibit, entitled "On the Road: The Beat Writers of New
York and San Francisco," I have become increasingly
disturbed by a display of Beat Generation figures and
their work that ignores the central influence of black
expressive culture on that movement. At the dawn of the
twenty-first century, how is it that Johns Hopkins
University, one of the world's major institutions of
advanced learning, could mount an exhibit of an
important American cultural movement and choose to
overlook what Nobel Laureate Toni Morrison refers to as
America's "Africanist presence"? Therefore, I am
compelled to offer this brief comment.
The casual observer could walk past the exhibit's
portrait of Bob Kaufman without realizing his black
American (mixed-race) heritage. I know of other pictures
of him that are less ambiguous. In neither the exhibit
nor the exhibit's brochure is there a comment about
Kaufman's racial identity. Absent is any mention of the
extent to which he employed the black expressive culture
of jazz innovation and improvisational art in his work.
To all those who understand the significance and meaning
of the Beat movement, black American art forms were
central to that project and to the making of modern (and
even postmodern) American culture. Hence, Bob Kaufman's
racial and cultural identity is important and should
have been acknowledged in the
exhibit.
Significantly, other key black American figures, such as
Amiri Baraka (then LeRoi Jones) and Gloria Trapp, also
should have been included in the exhibit. Black artists
were not footnotes or appendages to white Beatnik
histories of people like Jack Kerouac and Allen
Ginsberg. Rather, black cultural workers and their
innovative and improvisational styles were central. In
his new book,
Integral Music: Languages of African
American Innovation, Aldon Neilsen writes:
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The tale of
the Beats has too often been
half a tale, albeit full of
sound and fury, and the stories
of such innovative black artists
as Stephen Jonas, Bob Kaufman,
Harold Carrington, Gloria Trapp,
even Baraka himself have yet to
get adequately told. The major
biographies of
Ginsberg give only scant space to Baraka, who was a
crucial colleague. Critics such as Moss and Turco would
have us believe that half of the tale of American poetry
and culture, casually and inaccurately rendered, is the
whole story. Allen Ginsberg knew better (2004:
117-118). |
As an artistic movement, the Beat expression was
inconceivable without the influence and example of black
expressive culture. I am aware that no single exhibit
can be totally inclusive, but we need to discontinue the
long nightmare of whites' narcissistic self-regard that,
too
easily, excludes and forgets the central importance of
blackness to modern and postmodern American intellectual
and cultural life.
Sincerely,
Floyd W. Hayes, III, Ph.D.
Coordinator of Programs and Undergraduate Studies
Center for Africana Studies
Senior Lecturer
Department of Political Science
Johns Hopkins University
107 Greenhouse
3400 N. Charles Street
Baltimore, MD 21218
Phone: 410-516-7659
FAX: 410-516-7312
fwhayes3@jhu.edu
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Response
Are there a significant number of jazz programs at
HBCUs?—Rudy
Rudy,
There may be jazz studies programs within
departments of music, as is the case at NCCU. But
NCCU is the first HBCU to establish a Jazz Research
Institute. Jazz studies programs are designed to
train jazz performers. A jazz research institute has
a broader mission. I tried to speak to my own vision
of that project. I am not a musician, but I love the
music; and I approach my course with an attempt to
get at the history and politics of jazz, especially
the bebop revolt. As always,
Floyd
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posted 26 April 2008 |