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Re-read Martin's "TV, The Casual Art" and was reminded of how strong and sure the moral spine of his work was -- strong in ways that it would be hard for any of us of later generations to emulate. Not that we'd necessarily be less alert or level-headed at the crossroads where art and morality meet, but the flavor of our engagement would be/is a bit (sometimes more than a bit) different than Martin's was. Can't put further words to that difference right now, but it's one of things that came through very strongly as I read this book for the first time in a long while. Perhaps part of that feeling has to do with Martin's cut-off point for commentary (in a 1982 book) being the '70s era of the "Mary Tyler Moore Show" and "The Rockford Files," about both of which he has shrewd things to say. Makes you really want to know what he would have said about both the Newhart sitcoms and a host of other later things, including "Seinfeld" of course -- which I can imagine he might have admired or might have hated. Along those lines, and perhaps to touch upon that elusive difference thing, I remember Martin's intense dislike of Albert Brooks' movie "Modern Romance." As I recall, he thought the grotesquely self-involved, narcissistic character that Brooks played in "Modern Romance" more or less was Albert Brooks, and that the movie was an attempt on Brooks' part to justify the behavior it depicted. I could hardly believe that Martin, as smart as he was, could think that, even if this was the first piece of Brooks' stuff he'd seen (I think it might have been). But even if Martin was in one sense factually mistaken about what Brooks was up to in that movie, in another sense -- one that stems from the nature and age of Martin's moral vigor (i.e. "age" as in the era in which it was shaped) -- he may well have been right, because there's a strain in Brooks' slippery, one millimeter removed from actual whining, actual self-indulgence, etc. humor that is potentially so evasive that our trust (make that my trust) in what I think Brooks' dramatic strategies are may be close to an illusion. Again, it would be good to talk to/argue with Martin about this -- and many other things -- again.

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Jim: Sonny doesn't have to get Jelly Roll (though he might well have). I believe that by and large jazz musicians (like all artists) pay careful attention to what they think they can use, and for them the rest is gravy or even sometimes a distraction. For instance, Willem de Kooning, speaking of the connection between his painting and the 'vulgarity and fleshy part" of the Renaissance, added that he had use only for Western art:

"I admit I know little of Oriental art. But that is because I cannot find in it what I am talking about. To me the Oriental idea of beauty is that it 'isn't there.' It is in a state of not being here. It is absent, that is why it is good. It is the same thing I don't like in Suprematism, Purism, and non-objectivity.

"And although I, myself, don't care for all the pots and pans in the painting of the burghers--the genre scenes of goodly things which developed into the kind sun of Impressionism later on--I so like the idea that they--the pots and pans, I mean--are always in relation to man. The have no soul of their own, like they seem to have in the Orient."

So it's OK for De Kooning to ignore the Orient and for Sonny to not get Jelly Roll (if in fact he didn't), because it's their business to make certain connections in order to make certain things. Is De Kooning's account of the Oriental idea of beauty accurate? I don't know. But for his purposes it doesn't matter. To say that and think that played some role in his being able to paint his pictures. But it's another sort of deal for us (and course, you're a musician as well as a loving, aggressive listener) to ignore or not get the total warp and woof of this music, even if we decide that we finally don't like, say, the jazz equivalent of Suprematism or multi-limbed statues of Shiva. To put it another way, if Wynton Marsalis means nothing to me, I feel like I need to know why he doesn't. And not just to protect myself in the marketplace of talk; the total warp and woof (or as much of it as I can see) is something that to me is very interesting.

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The world possesses different sorts of talented analytical minds. Among these, there exist "Big picture" minds with the talent to fit everything together in a compelling and not forbiddingly complex way. I think that Martin Williams had such a mind. The details were not particularly important to him. He came up with a rather simple but compelling way of viewing the entire history of the music. Like Karl Marx, Martin Williams offered us a pair of spectacles that were relatively easy to put on and could bring everything into a certain focus very quickly.

Of course, jazz is many times more complex than the picture that Williams gave us. The importance is sometimes in the details. For that, we need to go to other sources. Nevertheless, I admire Martin Williams very much for what he contributed, despite the limitations.

Edited by John L
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I think that the details were very important to Martin. He certainly dealt with them more than many jazz critics did or do, though saxophonist-composer Bill Kirchner, who knew him well, has told me that Martin's reach could exceed his grasp when it came to technically accurate musical description, though he was almost always grasping in the right direction.

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Well...

I still can't accept that it's ok for Sonny in 1949, or 1954, to not get Jelly Roll (and given the general and personal circumstances he found himself in, I think it's highly unlikely that he spent too much, if any, time listening to Jelly Roll, let alone pondering the implications thereof) and still be able to so totally get Bird and Monk (and surely he did), but that a listener/fan is not capable of doing the same thing.

I mean, there's something in all great music that speaks to the now as well as the forever. Perhaps what makes great music truly great is that it in fact speaks the truths of the forever in the language of the now. So, I can accept, endorse even, that somebody/anybody would be well served by finding out what that forever is all about, but not that somebody/anybody first has to learn about the past nows in order to get the present one. How many of us understood our father before becoming one? How many of us truly understand our fathers even now? Can we ever truly understand them?

Certainly it's a major realization to come face-to-face with the reality that the more things change, the more they stay the same, and that, as the man said, the fundamental things apply as time goes by, but that's a different matter altogether than working hard to find out what those fundamental things are as they apply to one's own immediate circumstances. First, you gotta do that, deal with the now, then you worry about finding out how it all fits. Doing it the other way around is like buying a garage that fits a car you don't yet have. You run the risk of buying a car based on how well it fits in the garage, not because it's what you really want/need. Better to buy the car first and then look at/for garages, I think.

I am a huge believer in the continuity of spirit in this music, and in learning about it's whole history. Obviously, the deepr one digs, the deeper one digs, dig? And since most of the true giants of this music are dead now, it's pretty much all history by now (the few exceptions notwithstanding). So yeah, if you're into one dead guy, it would behoove you to check they dead guys before him, if for no other reason than to get an idea of who's who and what's what amongst the otehr dead guy's you're liable to end up getting into.

But that's more important when listening histortically than it is contemporaneously. I'd be hard pressed to say that anybody who was into, really into, Bird in 1949 or thereabouts didn't really "get" him if they didn't have a working knowledge of Jelly Roll Morton. Sure, they might not have had an understanding of how Bird fit into the continuum and all that, but there was more pressing business at hand at the time than figuring out how one stood in relation to the other, if you know what I mean. There were defintiely bigger fish to fry, and I think that those fish could be (and were) fried quite well without the historical contemplation. NOW was the time...

So yeah, ideas ran out (or cold) and the music changed like it always had. But I find it ironic that the more that people become aware of the depth and breadth of the music's heritage, the less it seems to evolve. For every Henry Threadgill, there's about a million Eric Alexanders, it seems, which is as it's always been, except that the ratio is horribly out of wack compared to what it used to be. Using the past to assit in the contextualizing of the present is one thing, but using it to define the present is another thing altogether. And that applies to audiences at least as much as players, because the ultimate determiner of the course the music takes is, rightly or wrongly, the audience. If the music splits up into a lot of little self-contained subsets, it's because there's not enough of an audience to support it becoming more. And if something takes root and takes over, it's because there was an audience to support it. And by audience, I don't necessarily mean "the masses", just the people who care enough about their lives to seek out music that deals with it, and not be content solely to be fed music that is deemed fit for it. And to that end, if the large part of the audience is more concerned with what then meant more than what now means, well, hey, you'll get your Wyntons and your Alexanders and your whoevers. Because they're worrying about the same thing -proving thier worth in terms of the past, not making a present that matters.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I think that it is perfectly possible, I dare say DESIREABLE, to get Bird, Monk, & Ornette (or even more to the point, Threadgill, Cecil, and Ornette) without getting Jelly Roll Morton. Of course, getting Morton will enhance and deepen your appreciation of what it is you've already gotten, but the point is exactly that - it's a broadening and deeping of an appreciation for something you've already gotten, not the prerequisite to actually getting it. Because what needs to be gotten first, in my opinion, is what any particular music of the now is saying in terms of that now. We expect our artists to do such a thing, and frankly, I think to deny audiences the same freedom to be in the now w/o worrying about the then is counterproductive.

I really do not think that a familiarity with the past and a recognizing of the continuum should be the first order of anybody's business in the environment of a living art. Certainly it should be a part of it (hopefully an inevitable part), and that's not to to praise willful ignorance (far from it, although I'll take somebody who's learned what they know or don't know hand-me-down from within the culture of the music over somebody who's learned it all from a book but hardly set foot outside of that book and/or others who have learned from the same book) but the first (and second and third and...) order should be figuring out what the hell NOW is, and go about dealing with getting that into some intellegent and relevant music. A knowledge of Jelly Roll Morton, or Bird, or Monk, or Ornette will give you some of the tools to do that (spiritual more than technical, though, more often than not, hopefully) but ultimately you gotta hang up the phone to Dad & Grandpa and get out there totally on your own, to make something of your own. If anything, knowing too much about Dad & Grampa might actually hurt you, because you're liabel to end up trying to make what they made more than you are something that is yours.

Better to make it first, and then reflect on what it all means and how it all fits than vice-versa. And that holds for audiences too. ESPECIALLY for audiences. Let them go where the artists feel the need to go. Eventually, it'll all come out in the wash.

I fear I ramble even more than ususal. Time to stop.

Edited by JSngry
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How many of us understood our father before becoming one? How many of us truly understand our fathers even now? Can we ever truly understand them?

Don't know how that fits in, but here we go... I had one of those recently where I told my dad about his dad in the process of unravelling what he thought about me - and it went in. Because my father's father died before he (my dad) had truly had time to set himself right about that relationship, he had always been up in the air about it. That's a pretty standard thing apparently - that the parent finds out about his parent through the child.

What this means is that - to take it wider - you need to be part of living history for past historical judgements, judgements made too close to the events to be fully resolved, to be revamped and set in their correct context. If the Jazz child but only lives in the past (cf Wynton), living history stops and so does this resolution/setting in context process.

Martin Williams only half understood the avant-garde.

Simon Weil

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I think that the details were very important to Martin. He certainly dealt with them more than many jazz critics did or do, though saxophonist-composer Bill Kirchner, who knew him well, has told me that Martin's reach could exceed his grasp when it came to technically accurate musical description, though he was almost always grasping in the right direction.

Interesting. You certainly know a lot better than me, Larry.

When I read Williams, I get the feeling that he is always working to fit everything together into a rather simple story line, and doing a great job of it.

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Hey Jim, I think you (and maybe I too) are making this all way more complicated than it needs to be. "Obviously, the deeper one digs, the deeper one digs, dig?" I agree. So why then, if you have the time and the inclination, would you ever stop digging? Only if you broke your tools or there was nothing left to dig, I guess. BTW, I don't think I said anything about finding out about the past BEFORE plunging into the now -- just that curiosity, some sense of obligation (if only to yourself), and above all the good old pleasure principle made engagement with as much of the music's past as you could your hands on a really useful idea.

Two other things about jazz's now and then, from personal practical experience. For people of my age, the biggest "challenge" (if that's the way to put it) we've faced so far probably was the advent of Ornette. I mean, if you were in your late teens when he hit, the first question was, "What IS this shit? and the second is "Is it any good?" or alternatively "What is it good for?" (i.e. if it is good, why is it here and what role is likely to play). Certainly, with the exception of Martin Williams, none of us was getting much help from written sources at first, while the verbal reactions of much of the musical community tended to be hostile, and the musical reactions hadn't yet occurred. Well, I'll tell you for true, if you already knew and loved, say, Johnny Dodds (other names could be placed here, but Dodds made it click for me), then some of what Ornette was doing made sense right off the bat; you were over the hump. And of course, Ornette being Ornette, his now happened to be brimful of the personally modified past -- pieces of which "just happened" to be lying around on the ground for him.

Scroll back to 1955, when I was just getting started. I liked blarey, athletic big band things a lot -- all those albums, like Manny Albam's "Drum Suite," that were being produced by the NY studio guys of the time. The more pounding, the more brass, the more punchy neo-Basie/Herman riffs the better. Then I ran across the first RCA reissue of the '40-'42 Ellington Band, with Ko Ko, Jack the Bear, Concerto for Cootie, Harlem Airshaft etc. Music that was made just before I was born, but it was an immediately obvious fact that it was (a) much better than anything I'd been listening to (b) of permanent value and © just thrilling. Aren't those two examples normal, natural things to happen? Haven't things like that happened to you? So what's the problem?

Clem -- You say Jelly Roll's music is irrelevent. What the heck do you mean? If you mean that it's unlikely that any significant musician today is going to find that Jelly Roll's music is going to speak directly to him, all I can say is that if Morton spoke that way to Henry Threadgill and the rest of Air back in the late 1970s (and it did), then (a) it's almost certainly still speaking to him and (b) it's probably been (or will be) speaking to others of his stature. If you mean that Morton's music is irrelevant to you the listener, that's your call but only your call. And you don't need Tatum either? Again, in both cases, I'm not interested in setting up as a school marm and saying this stuff is good for you -- I'm simply invoking what seems to me to be the pleasure principle.

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To pick up on but one little strand: Eric Charry of Wesleyan U. has argued convincingly that Cecil Taylor was/is a MUCH bigger stretch than Ornette. Ornette has been more or less accepted into the jazz canon, while the verdict is still out on Cecil for many. (That Ornette didn't abandon 4/4 time is a prime reason.) Thoughts?

Glad to see that Larry has copyrighted the phrase "just thrilling"......

Mike

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About Mike Charry's point -- maybe so in the long run, but I think that right at that time Ornette was a bigger stretch than Cecil, for several reasons. First, Cecil back then (i.e. at the advent of Ornette) was nowhere near as hairy as Cecil would become; and he still could be regarded as fitting into (albeit in a quirky way) some pre-existing "progressive" contexts. Likewise, to use a phrase I think I coined (do I really use "just thrilling" a lot?), except for 4/4 swing, Ornette's music violated virtually all of jazz's then prevailing "norms of craft professionalism," not that Ornette was necessarily interested in violating anything. In any case, a common response to Ornette from the pros was "He can't really play -- he doesn't know what he's doing -- he's all f****** up inside," etc. while with Cecil I think it was more "He's an over-intellectualized, would-be iconoclast" on the one hand, or, a la Gunther Schuller's approving response, "His main concern is to extend, bend, or even break the bounds of tonality" (again, a long-familiar "progressive" penchant, though not IMO the way to look at Cecil's music that makes the most sense). Finally, my memory is that even though Cecil was known of in the wider world before Ornette was, the relative size of the response to their music at the time was heavily weighted in Ornette's favor.

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Clem -- It was Miles who said that Ornette was all f***** up inside. I know for a fact that this remark really bothered Ornette, long after the the fact.

No doubt in my mind that Martin really dug Ornette; there are some latter-day reviews (e.g. of the concert that is on the album "Crisis") whose passion couldn't be faked IMO, and even if it could be, there would have been little or no political reason then for Martin to do so.

As for Ornette and Trane, there are arguable reasons (can't say for sure they were Martin's) for thinking that the former had really "broken free" in some rich, fruitful sense, while the latter was climbing up and sliding down a steep glass mountain. My attempt to puzzle through that is in the chapter on the avant garde 1944-1967 I wrote for "The Oxford Companion To Jazz."

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Clem -- It was Miles who said that Ornette was all f***** up inside.

He was also putting down Cecil around the same time--didn't DB give him a Taylor record for a blindfold test? He said something like, "Take it off, man! Is that what the critics are digging? They'd better stop drinking coffee," or something like that.

Clem--I love "What Are You Waiting For, Mary?" and have to say that Crosby also really makes that piece for me as well. To me he's an early avatar of white hip. I remember your stating elsewhere your intense disappointment with Giddin's Bing bio--do you have any recommendations for other writing about early Crosby?

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Clem -- It was Miles who said that Ornette was all f***** up inside.

He was also putting down Cecil around the same time--didn't DB give him a Taylor record for a blindfold test? He said something like, "Take it off, man! Is that what the critics are digging? They'd better stop drinking coffee," or something like that.

Clem--I love "What Are You Waiting For, Mary?" and have to say that Crosby also really makes that piece for me as well. To me he's an early avatar of white hip. I remember your stating elsewhere your intense disappointment with Giddin's Bing bio--do you have any recommendations for other writing about early Crosby?

Yes Miles was putting Ornette down but you have to know Miles to understand that it didn't mean he wasn't listening or respecting what the man did. The same way he was putting down Brubeck and playing his tune on "Miles Ahead". In his autobiography he said that he had respect for the "new thing" or "free thing" and it was one of the things he was learning from Tony, Ron and Herbie. He also said that he changed his mind after listening to Tony Williams' descriptions of Ornette's music.

His problem was that their (avant garde musicians) music was not understood by the audience and he also told that "white critics" were praising the new thing on purpose so that white artists could be popular and jazz will be pushed aside.

Edited by ztrauq22
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"[Miles] also told that 'white critics' were praising the new thing on purpose so that white artists could be popular and jazz will be pushed aside."

Well, that certainly worked out just as "we" planned it.

Nany ugly sentences could begin with "You have to know Miles to understand"...? How do you put down somebody and respect what he's doing?

Clem -- Those invisible signals are easy to miss. And I'm not so smart; it's these pills I take, plus the occasional use of a cloaking device.

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The party line that seems to have developed over the years is that Miles was in an artistic cul-de-sac during this period and irritated by music that he couldn't yet fully assimilate--then along came Tony/Wayne/Herbie, etc. There are probably valid reasons for that party line, but did Miles ever end up liking--or respecting--Cecil and/or his music at all?

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"[Miles] also told that 'white critics' were praising the new thing on purpose so that white artists could be popular and jazz will be pushed aside."

Well, that certainly worked out just as "we" planned it.

Nany ugly sentences could begin with "You have to know Miles to understand"...? How do you put down somebody and respect what he's doing?

Clem -- Those invisible signals are easy to miss. And I'm not so smart; it's these pills I take, plus the occasional use of a cloaking device.

Larry, did you read Miles' autobiography?

I'm sorry I didn't put the quotation mark, but this is what he said.

What so strange about Miles expressing ambivalent feelings about something? It wasn't the first time he did it.

I understand that you used the expression "ugly sentences" because I'm not that good with English (and my sentence "You have to know Miles" may arrogantly imply that I actually met him) and forgive you for using it. :P

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Sorry, ZTraug -- I didn't mean at all that your sentence was ill-put or awkward. I meant that I could imagine many sentences that say ugly things and that literally began "You have to know Miles to understand..." -- for example, "You have to know Miles to understand" why he hit this woman or did any number of the other cruel or irresponsible things he did. Why should he get a pass when he behaved like an S.O.B. or a jerk? I think his remark that all you need to do was listen to Ornette to know he was all f****** up inside was either stupid or a fearful piece of politicing on his part. Any number of Ornette's recorded solos ("Peace," for one) spoke of and from an emotional wholeness that was rare in modern jazz.

As for Miles' autobiography, it's generally acknowledged to be a highly unreliable document, littered with inaccuracies and fabrications -- both courtesy of Miles' collaborator on the book, Quincy Troupe.

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Sorry, ZTraug -- I didn't mean at all that your sentence was ill-put or awkward. I meant that I could imagine many sentences that say ugly things and that literally began "You have to know Miles to understand..." -- for example, "You have to know Miles to understand" why he hit this woman or did any number of the other cruel or irresponsible things he did. Why should he get a pass when he behaved like an S.O.B. or a jerk? I think his remark that all you need to do was listen to Ornette to know he was all f****** up inside was either stupid or a fearful piece of politicing on his part. Any number of Ornette's recorded solos ("Peace," for one) spoke of and from an emotional wholeness that was rare in modern jazz.

As for Miles' autobiography, it's generally acknowledged to be a highly unreliable document, littered with inaccuracies and fabrications -- both courtesy of Miles' collaborator on the book, Quincy Troupe.

Thanks, now I understand what you meant. :)

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Lots of pontificating in this thread by a lot of you.

I'll simply say I was around when Martin Williams (& Nat Hentoff & Ralph J. Gleason) were in their primes, & they were all crucial to my now almost 50 year exploration of what we all love (jazz).

There were others (e.g. Robert Levin, Gitler, A.B. Spellman) but these 3 were key.

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BTW, I don't think I said anything about finding out about the past BEFORE plunging into the now --

You didn't.

I just found the statement

It's a simple principle, but for me if you don't get, say, Jelly Roll Morton, then I have big doubts about your ability to really get Monk, or Bird, or Ornette or whomever.
to be one that can be, and is, being used in more malevolent minds than yours, mine , and ours (saw it on cable a few nights ago!) to create this smog over jazz that has too many players and fans alike worried about what it is and isn't and who MATTERS more than who, not on a personal level but on a "historical" level, which is all well and good, but geez, don't you miss the days when jazz was just what it was where it was when it was just because that's just what it WAS?

I know I do. And although we know that we both like thinking about this other stuff, I think we'd both agree that it's something best undertaken after one has a bit of mileage under one's belt (is that a mixed metaphor?) and in terms of what the music means to US rather than what it MEANS, if you know what I mean. Of course, one leads to the other, usually, but hey, that's better than having it go the other way around, which I see happening too much these days for me to feel comfortable with/about.

I used to think that the guys at NT who were totally into the Liebman/Grossman business and didn't want to hear anything pre-Trane were pretty silly. I still do, but on the other hand, that strikes me today as somehow more honest than somebody who spends so much time uncovering the past of the music that they don't have the time and space for confronting the present, and then has the nerve to try and dictate what the present should be. And truthfully, if I had to choose, I'd personally prefer playing for a crowd who digs the music at a gut level but who doesn't know Jelly Roll from Little Debbie than one who's first line of response is weighing everything they hear in terms of what came before it and then deciding if there's enough commonality for it to be worthy of the past masters. That's just too inorganiic a dynamic to foster real music being made, much less recieved. Of coure, the ideal audience who is capable of doing both at appropriate times, but that's such a 20th Centruy concept, doncha' know...

I'm certainly not directing this at you, Larry, just at the increasingly "obligational" aspect of being a jazz fan/musician that your comment no doubt inadvertantly and unintentionally suggested, and at that, more in extrapolation than in reality. I know it's not what you meant, and it's probably not what Martin Williams meant either. Yet here we are anyway...

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