Dr. Rat

Capibara! I hear these are good eatin' --eric

We just did an interview with Paul Tanner, who was a trombonist in Miller's pre-war band, to help commemorate the centennial. The interview was pretty interesting, and I was surprised at how much good music the band put out: I've never really paid much attention to them. --eric

That little fellow over there is a lab rat from my alma mater. I sincerely hope he's OK. Though I doubt it. If you've read Dr. Rat (the book) you'll know why. --eric

Just in the spirit of correcting Bev, The use of "quality" in this thread is perfectly fine: Everything spelled right, though. I think (not my strong suit, either) Cue: evil laugh, slowly receding . . . --eric

Very sorry to read this. Take care, --eric

You figure the reverb's added to this reissue, or that other remastering techniques brought the reverb to the fore (brightening, for instance)? --eric

I agree. This is something I meant to touch on earlier. This cuts to the very fundamental core of the discussion. As I see it, Clifford is essentially making a point for a sort of permanent avant-garde (that is whoever is the most "progressive" or "radical" in the arts at any given time is the avant-garde). But, the point made by Simon weighs in importantly here. If you don't beleive in progress and you think art is going anywhere (essential beliefs of the post-modern movement), what does it mean to be in art's advance guard? So a lot of historians have moved toward specifically identifying a historical avant-garde movement--sort of a last flourish of modernism. Post-modernism is a term that has been applied to works that are quite un-radical (big buildings with Chippendale chair motifs) and has been, with some reason, been identified as a conservative movement (not that this is the only way to define post-modernism, but pomo doesn't mean the same thing as avant-garde). These categories--modernism, post-modernism, avant-garde--aren't just stylistic descriptors, they're attempts to identify historic artistic movements, some of which have a pretty high degree of self-consciousness. The thesis of Avant-garde and cliche has some pretty big problems if we are to use it to categorize and periodize art, the opposition between artistic speech and everyday speech was already much commented upon during the eighteenth-century, and the Russian formalists use it to define literature as such, which seems a lot more plausible that using it to define the avant-garde, imo. The high/low distiction behind "high art" goes back even further, and was in dispute starting with the romantics. I know there's a distinction often made between "high-art" modernism and "populist" post-modernism, but I think a lot of that is retrospective: what makes a lot of modernism "high art" to us is that it eventually was embraced by the establishment, which some in the next generation repudiated by (usually ironically--no populism here) approprating pop-culture. --eric

Seriously, I think Wynton is a post-modernist. He's very much analagous to the more "conservative" stream of post-modern architecture (essentially non-ironic gestures toward heritage). I think this would be a very interesting way of making sense of his career.

Sorry to be so long about this, and I hope the whole discussion hasn't passed me by . . . But I went back to Burger and Poggoli last night. Actually Burger has nothing to say about Poggoli, it's the guy who writes the foreword to the American edition of his book: Jochen Schulte-Sasse. S-S makes a case for preferring Burger to Poggoli ont he basis of the fact that Burger has a better schema to distinguish romanticism, modernism and the avant-garde. Terry Eagleton, in his post-modern chapter of Ideology of the Aesthetic does a good job of summarizing Burger's schema. Essentially Romanticism is the aesthetic movement that came out of the separation of the arts from normal life, where art became a profession and artists were thought to have a different order of understanding than regular folk. (Not that there was an absolute division, by contemplating the aethetic or the sublime, regular folk could reaccquaint themselves with that artistic way of knowing, but everyday life generally mitigated against it.) Modernism is a response to the fact that everyday life essentially incorporated the Romantic viewpoint as a complement to itself. Many artists conceived of their work not as a relief from the everyday (and all the power plays and inhumanity inherent in it), but as a challenge to it. When society essentially accepted and absorbed romantic art, art started moving to the modern, which was more or less challenging aesthetic form stripped of content (in a relative rather than absolute sense for the most part). (And here there are big problems in applying these categories to music, because instrumental music can't really be said to have form vs. content in the same sort of way that painting or even poetry can. Music is an abstract art to begin with. So where are we to draw the line where "modernism" begins in jazz? It could be said that jazz from the get go is essentially modernistic, or that bop finall brought it to its modernistic destiny.) Society came to accept and absorb this as well. The avant-garde ups the ante by challenging the entire category of art and challenges society to accept as art that which manefestly rejects the category. Thus the challenge is put most directly to the initial absorbtion of romantic art: that the aesthetic is a necessary, humanizing complement to urbanizing, industrializing society. By attempting to reject and destroy this separate category of "the aesthetic," AG as Burger conceives of it is essentially anti-romantic. The difference btw Poggoli and Burger, it seems to me, is a productive one, rather than a case of one being right and another wrong. I think the two points of view both account for different parts of or aspects of what we call the avant-garde. By bringing this up I didn't mean to challenge your use of Poggoli, which I thought was just what was needed in your essay, but to ask about connections you might see between the romantic and the avant-garde as you see it. --eric

Ah, I didn't realize the Poggioli connection. Poggioli (the AG guy, not the NPR reporter) has been criticized for not creating a set of categories and standards that make for clear distinctions between romanticism, modernism and the avant-garde. Peter Burger is the main figure I know of who makes this criticism of Poggioli. This is something I thought about when reading the 2nd late Coltrane thread here where there is such a decided drift toward romantic aestehtic thinking. Larry have you read any of these periodization critiques of Poggioli? Lately I've begun to think we've been a little to anxious to define ourselves wholly apart from the past on a lot of issues, and that we might just well be kicking around the same issues as the romantics were. A lot of the Isaiah Berlin that Simon's got me reading seems to imply as much. --eric

Yeah, she only started this a couple of years ago. Some consultant probably brainwashed her. Pirate Teri! --eric

I have a list of books I want to get (some of which you guys put me on to) and I was wondering if anyone has suggestions for a good on-line bookstore with a big stock of philosphy, science, history and music books available at discount prices? I'm looking to cut down on shipping costs by getting as many of my wants in the same place as possible. Am I just asking for too much? --eric

Well, here the JALC announcement. Glad to see Bill Smith amongst the group. I have a soft spot for him having enjoyed some of his work on the live in Russia cd. Anyhow,

March 24, 2004 MUSIC REVIEW | DAVE BRUBECK A New Look at an Old View of Music's Polytonal Future By KELEFA SANNEH "I never expected to be here playing this, or to ever hear this music again," Dave Brubeck said. He was addressing a full house at Avery Fisher Hall on Monday night, and the grandfatherly twinkle in his eye made it plain that he took pleasure in adding another unlikely chapter to an unlikely career. The concert resurrected his 1946 octet, a group he formed at Mills College while studying with the composer Darius Milhaud. Mr. Brubeck, and his bandmates explored unusual forms and rhythms, and their experiments anticipated some of the directions jazz would take in the decades that followed. But the music was nearly lost: as Mr. Brubeck explained, the scores were destroyed in a flood, and so on Monday night the musicians worked from transcriptions of an old recording. So this was a night of cheerful reversals. The venerable master, now 83, reprised the role of eager student, wistfully recalling Milhaud's influence. The group played music that had gone from the printed page to the stage and — painstakingly — back again. And the audience got a chance to hear old avant-garde compositions that prefigured a future now past. Nine musicians and a conductor were required to recreate the complicated arrangements, including the four members of the Dave Brubeck quartet (which played a nimble, spirited set to open the show) and William O. Smith, the adventurous clarinetist who was a key member of the original octet. One of the most appealing pieces was Mr. Brubeck's densely interwoven setting of "The Way You Look Tonight." He warned the audience that it was "very complicated," sometimes shifting harmony with every beat, but the group scampered through the changes as if the whole thing were merely a lark. A brief composition called "Rondo" resembled a homework assignment, and for good reason: "We experimented with different forms, because Milhaud wanted us to," Mr. Brubeck said. Of course he eventually found other uses for the hybrid jazz-rondo form. A decade later Milhaud's challenge inspired one of Mr. Brubeck's best-known compositions, "Blue Rondo a la Turk." Another hybrid, "Fugue on Bop Themes," still sounded weird and witty all these years later. The theme included a pair of syncopated rhythmic figures, which had a slightly different effect each time they cycled around: sometimes they were a sharp interruption, sometimes just a gentle ripple. The night ended with a crowd-pleasing run through "Take Five" (enlivened by Mr. Smith's deliciously irreverent solo), but the most memorable part of the concert was Mr. Brubeck's I-told-you-so smile. At one point he remembered, "In those days polytonal chords were looked on as mistakes." And then, with more than a hint of glee: "I'm going to play those mistakes tonight." Copyright 2004 The New York Times Company

I'm just glad that fallatio reference didn't get botched. --eric

I deifnitely share your sense that Harrison has had the sort of change of heart you describe (which may be wishful thinking, because it would mean he'd be closer to agreeing with me, and I like the idea of having Max on my side of an issue!). And I agree that that being the case, and it also being the case that Nicholson seems to be coming from "avant-garde as sociological phenomenon"-land (also my home country) . . . This being the case it does seem silly for them to try to pick and describe and enhance our appreciation of the "essential" AG records. Maybe they should have left off at 1960, just like Ken Burns! --eric

I always thought Edwards was pretty unaffected-sounding (of course he's working at it, but . . .) Jacki Lyden: now she drives me up a wall with (what I take to be) pseudo-patrician vowel inflections. And since NPR folks aren't allowed to give themselves monickers, like "Big Bob Edwards," or "Crown Princess of Sheba" (for Lyden), the way they say their names seems to be their trademark: witness Sylvia Poggioli's transformation when she signs off, which has definitely evolved over her tenure, becoming very Italian sounding indeed after she had established herself, and then fading a bit after some angry letters, I suppose.

Larry- The first volume of Essential Jazz Records probably had more influence on me as a listener than anything aside from listening. While the book is critical, I found it had a way of filling me with curiosity about records I didn't have and sending me off with fresh ears to records I did have. I find this not to be the case with Volume 2, though I still find it valuable (the spine's pretty bowed on my copy!). On Nicholson: I find him more interetsing than you do. I don't like a lot of his reviews, either, but I don't think I'd call him a "cheesy customer" or a PR man. Something else seems to be wrong. I don't get a sense of discovery in most of his reviews--they seem obligatory. This may be Harrison's trick: rtaher than being a pose, his iconoclasm is a way of coming at a record in a way that gives him a new way into it and soemthing more or less new to say about it (discovery!). The resulting reviews may not be exactly fair, but they may provide new and useful insight (as well as being more interesting to read). --eric

I've wondered when something was going to happen. I've been hearing about NPR's long-term demo worries for a while (the newscasts continue to draw more listeners, but apparent they don't appeal to younger listeners in a way that make it look sustainable over the long). I suspect that's why we hear a lot of new entertainment-oriented segments and a lot of young people doing young-people-oriented stories. They feel they've got a youth movement to shepherd in, I guess, and now's the time to start when the suporting cast is strong. I suspect we'll see a younger-side-of-middle-aged minority get the spot (NOT as a affirmative action thing, but because younger and non-white is where their potential growth is, and having somebody to identify with will help them secure that listenership). --eric

To the extent that this is happening (and I think it is, too) I think this is an unfortunate trend as well. When I said the death of the metanarrative was a good thing, I had in mind the sort of all-controlling, all-determining, vegematic interpretation (just stick the facts in this end, and it all comes out looking the same at the other end!). I don't like the hypercritical attitute people seem to bring to overviews and compendia. I just don't think it constitutes an interesting criticism to point out that something has been left out. Such books should come with promotional stickers like "Things left out!" "Tough choices made!" "A book, not a library!" just to remind reviewers of the simple facts of writing and book publishing. And I'd encourage you to press on with your revision. I am a lover of little books that cover a lot of ground well. I think of Paul Fussell's guide to technique in poetry or Terry Eagleton's introductions to literary criticism, which serve not only as great introductions but as fine expressions of a whole way of seeing things. Of course, your project is different from these, but you might think of it as an expression of a way of seeing things--a way of seeing things that enriches the reader even if he can't entirely agree with it as well as being a basic introduction to the scholarship and primary material that's out there. --eric

I did most of my perusing of the white jazz book directly after having read The Swing Era, so I might have missed the lack of context issue. --eric

Found an interesting review of Andre Hodeir by Neil Leonard, attached below. --eric

This reminds me: anyone here read "Lost Chords" the book about White Jazz musicians? I've not read it cover-to-cover, but I've tooled around in it quite a bit (my expression for looking things up in it and reading randomly at leisure). I really like it. Very balanced and reasonable on most controversies, and really good reading. --eric

My experience is mostly with history more generally, rather than with jazz history in particular (Garth, apparently, is your expert there!). And as Simon points out, jazz criticism and history is something of a backwater. Gioia, for instance gets a lot of praise because he does things like mention Walter Benjamin, who is cited out the wazoo in other sorts of aesthetic-historical writings (architectural or literary history for instance). One thing about jazz writing is that a lot of it is journalistic rather than academic, a lot of the academics who are in the field don't know jazz as well as they might, and a lot of the more journalistic folks in the field (who often do know lots more than you'll read in books), are fans rather than critics. They are most interested in forwarding the cause of the music they love, not in analyzing it. There is also, as Simon points out, a considerable hostility (for good and bad) in English-speaking culture toward "intellectualizing" and "academics" which you will see in a lot of writing on jazz, either in the background or in the foreground. Gradually this is changing as jazz's center of gravity moves more toward the academy, the two worlds seem to be merging. Gioia probably being a good example of this. More generally on meta-history: one of the good effects of the whole post-modernist movement in the intellectual sphere is the death (or at least the considerable weakening) of "meta-narratives" (obituary written by JF Lyotard, The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge). This is one reason why social history is much more shy about determinism than it might have been in the past and much more concerned about the biographical details that, in jazz history, are still really the preserve of the fans and journalists. Antonio Gramsci's concept of hegemony, which is pretty flexible, was a major influence on my generation of historical scholars. There's a good article by TJ Jackson Lears on hegemony which I'll email to you. --eric

I am sorry to sidetrack this thread a bit, but... Garth, are you familiar with the writings of Ekkehard Jost? I have a German book by him titled "Social History of Jazz in the USA," which is really very good. I was wondering whether there are more such social-historical approaches to jazz history. The two books I know about like this are the Peretti Creation of Jazz (mentioned above) and The Birth of Bebop, A Social and Musical History by Scott DeVeaux. I actually find that neither really speak to me, though both seem well-regarded (particularly the DeVeaux), but (surprise): "Your mileage may vary". The current trend in Jazz writing is to treat the music (largely) in aesthetic terms. Simon Weil Funny thing: I bought both of these books on the same shopping trip (staying sane during business travel!) My boss and I ripped through the Deveaux, found it interesting, talked about it a bit. It isn't exactly compelling reading, though. That is, it's good if you are actively interested in 1940s America and Coleman Hawkins and all the techniques he employed in Body & Soul, etc. etc. But this book won't make you interested in that stuff. Same goes for the Peretti, I think. Interesting, not compelling. --eric