Riding Pegasus

Full of sound and fury signifying nothing?

2007-06-12T09:46:00.000-07:00

I sat and watched the heads of the audience bobbing up and down, snaking to and fro to the sounds of the four dark and white skinned musicians exposing their talents and wares on the brightly lit stage. Each standard that was announced by the well versed pianist and leader of the band was warmly received by the hundred or so patrons that came to share with them their love of America's indigenous music, Jazz.
Scanning the crowd I saw lips moving and pantomiming the horn players melodies. Familiarity with each number was all too evident. The night was magical in so many ways that one had to really stop and contemplate an answer to that nagging question. The question that I was hesitant to ask in mixed company. Why are there so few African Americans attending Jazz Concerts?
But hold on. This night, except for the artists on that stage, does not reflect the diversity that Jazz, more than any other art form, was always proud to claim. Oh no, the separation of the masses, which as of late is all to apparent, is a growing concern for artists and concert goers like myself. What was once the single most important place of refuge that an artist of color could go to and express his or hers craft, free of that tiered system of racism, is now seeing a resurgence of those tired old feelings and racial attitudes. But this time it is wrapped in the guise of economics and marketing.
I asked a promoter friend of mine why are the seats at his venue, that use to present straight ahead Jazz, now mostly filled with white patrons. He looked at me and said, "I was hoping you could tell me that. We try to bring in acts of all persuasions and with different sounds and grooves, but the only time we get a large African American turn out is when we present a Smooth Jazz program. Then it's full".
I have seen what this promoter is talking about and it also baffles me. The sound of drum machines, bell like synthesizers, music programs on computers that are triggered from stage, seem to some how belie the acoustic experience that traditional jazz listeners have come to expect when they go to hear a Jazz performance. Of course I am painting a broad stroke for in the right hands these modern musical devises can add a heightened theme to an artists musical interpretations. Artists such as Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea, The Yellow Jackets, Al Jarreau, Pat Metheny and countless others prove that in the right creative hands it is a wondrous tool of expression. But the over use and abuse of these synthetic instruments has somehow taken the place in the mind of the new comer to this music that this is what jazz is all about. A monotonous groove, build on predictable riffs, layered over numerous tracks of simple melodies, designed to numb and pacify the uneducated into believing that this is really some intricate shit.
Now it seems that concert venues have caved in to the overwhelming hunger of the uninformed to have the name Jazz put in front of any thing that is musically familiar. Festivals that present World and R&B music to Blues and Country, slide these artist into their venues under the guise of the title Jazz festival. Believe me there is nothing wrong with anyone wanting to work, in fact everyone should work, but if the gauge on how a Jazz act is booked and presented is based upon the seats sold at a "Jazz" venue that just held the likes of a Bob Dylan or a Peter Frampton who do you think is going to be hired the next go round, and what percentage of color will that audience attending that festival will be?
If the disparity between White and Black Jazz concert goers is ever to be fully addressed I feel it must first come from the ranks of the African American Jazz lover. Questions like why is their such a dramatic drop in support for Jazz artist's in the African American community. And why, knowing the struggles and in roads that those before us have taken to bring us this music, they are not being championed by legions of African American faces attending their concerts.
Remember there was a time when Louie, Ella, Duke, Nat, Miles and names forgotten in time had no choice but to use the back door in order to reach the performance stage and people of color were designated to balcony's and special area's of seating labeled "Colored Only." Are we that removed from the "Struggle" to deem ourselves comfortable enough to impose self segregation. I hope not.
Let me hear your opinion on this topic that seems to be festering in our wonderful community of Jazz lovers.

When Johnny Comes Marching Home?

2007-05-25T08:07:00.000-07:00

Well I said I wasn't going to get political but some things a person must speak out about. Today is May 25th, Memorial day weekend and from my window I can see the Hudson River dark and shimering below me . I was checking my email when the sound of roaring engines overhead startled Pat and I. America's military machine is in full force over our buildings. I guess some would say it's an impressive sight. It is. They landed three fighter helicopters in Riverbank Park so we took a walk on the park's bridge to watch them. What struck me first was the the precision at which those pilots manuevered and landed those large and swift air machines. The soldiers from the Army, Marines and the other forces poured out of them dressed in all their military finery. To say the least I was awed for a moment or two. So were the people who like myself had gathered around them to gawk and give arm chair opinions about why we need them to be safe, remember the Alamo, the Maine, oh I mean Nine Eleven and boy it takes a brave group of men and woman to want to join the service. The only thing missing was the music, but then I noticed that they even toted out speakers on stands to place in the grass, I guess we won't be hearing rap music today, or maybe one of the well known cross over artists have put a little P.ditty together. "Yo Niggas Yo Nappy headed Ho's come pick up a gun and take your po as to war." I hope I am not starting to sound to cynical but hey this is Harlem and being a child of the sixties those old liberal and quasi militant feelings are starting to ferment again in my memories. You see I grew up in Bedford Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. No not the new gentrified version living next to Park Slope, just renovated a million dollar plus brownstone folks. No I mean the riots of sixty seven when walking to school meant passing the Black Panther store front and listening to the radio in the barber shop blare out results and comentaries of that week's Cassius Clay's aka Muhammed Ali's fight and seeing droves of young Black boys coerced into traveling to a place they never heard of called Vietnam to be just that, never heard of again. I remember the deep sweet seductive voices of the well manicured recruiters trolling my neighborhood in the hunt for young and naive men to fight for another people's freedom when they barely had theirs. Today I saw the same here in Harlem the hunt for Black pride under the guise of patriotism. It was and still is a brilliant ploy by the powers that be in America to quietly and deliberately use a boy's natural zest to prove his manhood and channel it towards a single goal. That goal is subjugation of other's rights and property by touting ours as the only salvation that they will ever need. Or as in the actions of our military machine showed in the Shock and Awe campaigning. We must first kill you in order for you to be truly free. Rumsfeld cronies said it all so well. Democracy has a price. But who is always paying.

CBS Interview about Cross That River

2007-05-24T07:32:00.000-07:00

Good Morning World

2007-05-22T05:36:00.000-07:00

This is my first blog and I want to say that I am very excited. Excited to share my world with those of you who seek one thing. Peace of mind through their creative endeavors. This blog I promise will not be a political forum or a platform to rant and rave against the injustices of the world. I will gladly talk about and exchange ideas,opinions and stories about travel,people and topics that uplift the mind and spirit. There will be many references and stories about travel, horses ,dogs and of course music. There is enough forums and discussions on the web about my fellow man by others who are more astute than I so I will not belabor the human condition too much.I welcome anyone and everyone to come to my site and exchange their experiences concerning these subjects and I hope that those who have an axe to grind in what ever fashion refrain from using this blog as their bully pulpit. That said, I chose the title Riding Pegasus because I envision my inner self soaring above the fray of life's daily grind atop of the mytholigical winged steed Pegasus. This is my escape, this is my Walter Mittyism when ever I can't just climb atop of a well balanced mount or pick up my guitar or hike through the forest. There you have it, my first reference to horses. So welcome one and all and good riding into your creative mind. Pegasus loves to share his back.