MUCH HAJDU ABOUT NOTHIN':

Wynton's Blues: For two decades Wynton Marsalis ruled the jazz universe, enjoying virtually unqualified admiration as a musician and unsurpassed influence as the music's leading promoter and definer. But after a series of sour notes—he parted from his record label, has been caught up in controversy at Jazz at Lincoln Center; and has been drawing increasing fire from critics and fellow musicians alike for his narrow neotraditionalism—perhaps the biggest name in jazz faces an uncertain future. Just like jazz itself. (David Hajdu, March 2003, The Atlantic Monthly)

For twenty years the fates of Marsalis and jazz music have appeared inextricably intertwined. He was a young newcomer on the New York scene at a time when jazz seemed dominated and diminished by rock-oriented "fusion," marginalized by outrŽ experimentation and electronics, and disconnected from the youth audience that has driven American popular culture since the postwar era. Extraordinarily gifted and fluent in both jazz and classical music, not to mention young, handsome, black, impassioned, and articulate, especially on the importance of jazz history and jazz masters, Marsalis was ideally equipped to lead a cultural-aesthetic movement suited to the time, a renaissance that raised public esteem for and the popular appeal of jazz through a return to the music's traditional values: jazz for the Reagan revolution. In 1990 Time magazine put him on the cover
and announced the dawn of "The New Jazz Age." Record companies rediscovered the music and revived long-dormant jazz lines, signing countless young musicians inspired by Marsalis, along with three of his five brothers (first his older brother, Branford, a celebrated tenor saxophonist; later Delfeayo, a trombonist; and eventually the youngest, Jason, a percussionist) and his father, Ellis (a respected educator and pianist in the family's native New Orleans). By the 1990s Wynton Marsalis had become an omnipresent spokesperson for his music and also one of its most prolific and highly decorated practitioners (he was the first jazz composer to win a Pulitzer Prize, for Blood on the Fields, his oratorio about slavery)—something of a counterpart to Leonard Bernstein in the 1950s. He took jazz up and over the hierarchical divide that had long isolated the music from the fine-arts establishment; the modest summer jazz program he created won a full constituency at Lincoln Center. In 1999, to mark the end of the century, Marsalis issued a total of fifteen CDs—about one new title every month.

In the following two years he did not release a single CD of new music. In fact, after two decades with Columbia Records, the prestigious and high-powered label historically associated with Duke Ellington, Thelonious Monk, and Miles Davis, Marsalis has no record contract with any company. Nor does his brother Branford, who just a few years ago was not only one of Columbia's recording stars but an executive consultant overseeing the artists-and-repertory direction of the label's jazz division. (Branford recently formed an independent record company.) Over the past few years Columbia has drastically reduced its roster of active jazz musicians, shifting its emphasis to reissues of old recordings. Atlantic folded its jazz catalogue into the operations of its parent company, Warner, and essentially gave up on developing new artists. Verve is a fraction of the size it was a decade ago. In addition, jazz clubs around the country have been struggling, and the attacks of September 11 hurt night life everywhere; New York's venerable Sweet Basil closed in the spring of 2001, after twenty-five years in operation, and later reopened as a youth-oriented world-music place. In the institutional arena, Carnegie Hall discontinued its in-house jazz orchestra at the end of the 2001-2002 season.

For this grim state of affairs in jazz Marsalis, the public face of the music and the evident master of its destiny, has been declared at least partly culpable. By leading jazz into the realm of unbending classicism, by applying the Great Man template to establish an iconography (Armstrong, Ellington, Parker, Coltrane), and by sanctifying a canon of their own choosing (Armstrong's "Hot Fives," Ellington's Blanton-Webster period, Parker's Savoy sessions, Coltrane's A Love Supreme), Marsalis and his adherents are said to have codified the music in a stifling orthodoxy and inhibited the revolutionary impulses that have always advanced jazz.

"They've done a lot to take the essence of jazz and distort it," the composer and pianist George Russell told The New York Times in 1998. "They've put a damper on the main ingredient of jazz, which is innovation."

A former executive with Columbia Records who has worked intimately with five Marsalises says, "For many people, Wynton has come to embody some retro ideology that is not really of the moment, you know—it's more museumlike in nature, a look back. I think as each day passes, Wynton does lose relevance as a shaper of musical direction. He's not quite the leader of a musical movement any longer. That doesn't mean he's not remarkable, or without considerable clout, or that he's not the leader of a cultural movement. But within the record industry the Marsalises are no longer seen as the top guys."

Interesting piece on Wynton... I have a lot of thoughts on it, so in no particular order:

1) Yesterday, I went to a master class taught by Paquito D'Rivera....something Adriana saw and surprised me with a ticket. It wasn't a normal master class (in which everyone brings their horns, and the teacher uses the students to demonstrate his points), rather just Paquito talking about elements of jazz and Latin music...with him (accompanied by a piano player) making his own points on alto and clarinet....it was a great time for someone like me...anyway, here's the tie to Wynton: at one point, Paquito was talking about what he thinks is lacking in a lot of instrumentalists, and one of the things he mentioned was articulation (which in wind instrument refers to the differentiation of individual notes by using the tongue). He said not enough guys anymore really articulate well, and even fewer do so with any personal imprint. He went on to cite Wynton as an example of a guy who is a "genius" of articulation and dynamics, which results in him having a beautiful, exciting sound. He then mimicked Marsalis's sound with his voice. Well, I admire the hell out of Paquito D'Rivera, and if Wynton is good enough for him, who am I to argue?

2) I'm not that familiar with Hadju or his views on jazz, but I have read his best-known work, his biography of Billy Strayhorn, which I liked very much. I know he must know a lot about the music, and maybe his opening in this article was exaggerated for dramatic effect, but I find it hard to believe he had to sit there for 4 songs before he was sure the trumpet player was Wynton. Separate and apart from whether someone likes his music, Marsalis does have a distinctive (and remarkably beautiful) tone on the trumpet....if I had been in the club, I would have known it was him even if I had been blindfolded...it struck me as unbelievable that the author, and the jazz man sitting next to him, couldn't tell...

3) Hadju makes a surprising number of references to Wynton and women: that he has kids with 2 girlfriends, that he has access to lots of good looking girls, that Crouch lured him to the surprise birthday party by telling him they were going to meet to girls, etc. I thought it was a bit out of place for an article that was supposed to be comparing the State of Jazz to the State of Wynton. It wasn't quite "Mandingo", but I don't know that "black man as sex machine" was really relevant to the main thesis. (Especially without any allegations that Wynton mistreats women or doesn't take care of his kids....in fact, the author made the opposite point: that Marsalis is seemingly polite and solicitous to all of his fans and acquaintances and takes the kids during vacations, etc.)....

4) Hadju shouldn't have taken his appearance at a club in late August as a shock. The summer is typically when musicians make the "Jazz Festival" circuit...Montreaux, Newport, JVC (in NY), Telluride, Italy, Japan, etc. The festivals are usually over by mid-August. So, at that point, Wynton is home, a great musician who he would respect (McPherson) is playing at the most famous jazz club in the world (the Village Vanguard), so Wynton, who lives a $5 cab ride away, stops in for a few sets. All that shows me is that Marsalis wasn't b.s.'ing the writer when he told him he loves to play. I find it remarkable and admirable (but not surprising) that a world-famous musician, who plays to sold out concert halls everywhere, loves to play so much that he'll drop in for a few tunes with a friend. At my club, I've seen guys like Joe Williams, Alan Broadbent, and even Miles freaking Davis himself, come out of the audience to sit in on a song or two.

5) I chuckle at the attempt to draw distinctions between Branford and Wynton. Yes, Branford has done some pop stuff, but his first release on his own record label features his interpretations of Coltrane's "A Love Supreme" and Sonny Rollins' "Freedom Suite"....so, unlike his brother, he obviously doesn't hold the old masters in reverence or anything.

6) He makes a good point about the difficulty posed to critics by Wynton when he acts as a critic. Tough to have a guy invade your turf who can actually do the thing at a high level and he knows as much about the history as you do.

7) Finally, Hadju says about 5 times that the jazz club business is struggling throughout the country since 9/11, and he uses the cut backs at some labels as an indicator that the music is dying. Now, I don't doubt that there has been a drop off at places like the Blue Note in NY which always catered to busloads of Japanese and German tourists. But whenever I'm in NY (3 or 4 times a year) and go by Iridium or the Vanguard, they are always packed. And, I'm happy to say, the Catalina Bar and Grill has seen a significant increase in business since 9/11...we don't' know why, but I suppose it's because people from LA may not be taking as many vacations, so they go out to do something special in town. On the record side, interesting, avant garde (for want of a better, less pejorative word) new comers like Jason Moran, and established non-traditional players like David Murray, Arthur Blythe and Wayne Shorter have all released new albums in the last few months. Mainstream guys like Hank Jones (in his 80's), Kenny Barron, Larry Coryell, Cedar Walton, etc., etc., are going strong....and Jackie McLean and Sonny Rollins (both in their 70's) can still outplay anyone on the planet, and continue to make fresh, challenging music that doesn't rest on their laurels from the 1950's and 60's..... Oh yeah, and back to where I started, with Paquito: guys like D'Rivera and Sandoval, and players from all over the world (Paquito's piano player is Israeli) are coming to this country, adopting jazz and adding touches of their home cultures.

Posted by Glenn Dryfoos at March 4, 2003 1:01 PM