The following was originally written in May 2011 for the Insight Scoop blog. I’ve decided to share it here as a very modest homage to Dave Brubeck, who died this morning, one day shy of being 92 years young. It sounds like Brad has more about Brubeck on the way. Anyhow, here goes!
I just read a fun post, “The Catholic Roots of Jazz?”, by Joe Trabbic on the “End of the Modern World” blog, and wanted to blather about it for a bit. Joe writes:
Jelly Roll Morton was a key figure in the early development of jazz. Some people even regard him as the first real jazz musician, the man who brought together various musical forms into the new thing that we now know as jazz. Jelly Roll’s real name was Ferdinand Joseph LaMothe and he was raised Catholic, but the dissolute life that he began leading as a teenager, when he secretly took a job as a piano player in a New Orleans brothel, quickly made his Catholicism unrecognizable. But who knows the hearts of men save their Maker?
He goes on to mention early jazz giants Dominic “Nick” LaRocca and Louis Armstrong, and then remarks upon Dave Brubeck, one of the finest (and longest-performing) jazz pianists, saying, “Well, if jazz didn’t have anything Catholic about it, why did one of the greats of later jazz, Dave Brubeck, decide to enter the Church of Rome?”
He admits he is having fun with it, but the two questions are interesting: “Does jazz have Catholic roots?” and “Is jazz Catholic?” The first one, it seems to me, is bound up to a large degree with the history of jazz, which is a complicated matter. But it is pretty evident that jazz, to put it rather simplistically, has roots in both the European cIassical tradition and very American forms of music—ragtime, blues, early country, spirituals, gospel, dance music, etc.—harkening back not only to New Orleans, but Chicago, New York, Texas, and a variety of other places, especially throughout the southeastern United States. Elijah Wald’s How The Beatles Destroyed Rock ‘n’ Roll: An Alternative History of American Popular Music (Oxford University Press, 2009), offers a fascinating and slightly iconoclastic version of that history, especially in the first seven chapters. Jazz was, in the beginning, very much dance music, and was usually associated with a less than upstanding life-style. And that image was hardly helped in the 1940s and ’50s when many jazz musicians came under the spell of heroin and other drugs.
One of my heroes, G. K. Chesterton, had nothing good to say about the jazz of the 1920s and 1930s. I beg to differ with him, but I’m sure it was an unusual and even jarring thing for the Englishman to hear. It was a music filled with great energy, imbued with a beguiling combination of rawness (sometimes sexual in nature) and sophistication (often classical in origin), being both very rhythmic and melodic, with an ever-increasing harmonic complexity. I own dozens of books on jazz (and close to 11,000 songs classified as “jazz” on my iTunes), and they all agree that defining “jazz” is a very difficult matter. Barry Ulanov was one of the first great jazz critics (he was also a Catholic scholar—more on that in a moment), the author of A History of Jazz in America (Viking Press, 1954) and A Handbook of Jazz (Viking, 1960). He wrote, in the latter book, “The harder one listens to jazz, the more one hears European rather than African influences—the folk songs of England, Scotland, and Ireland, of France and Germany and even the Balkans, rather than the music of the jungle and the coast settlements from which the slave ships came.” Continue reading “The catholicity of jazz (with an idiosyncratic list of jazz albums for people who don’t like jazz)”
Progarchy 