
CAPTURE
CONVERSATIONS
John Carter
Castles of Ghana
Gramavision : 1986
JC, clarinet; Baikida Carroll, trumpet; Bobby Bradford, cornet; Marty Ehrlich, bass clarinet; Benny Powell, trombone; Terry Jenoure, violin, vocals; Richard Davis, bass; Andrew Cyrille, drums.
We are not generally fans of programmatic music. Jazz records with any kind of overarching theme tend to sag under the weight of their purported subject, leaving little room for anything but the most literal reading of the music’s message. It can feel like listening to one’s homework. Wynton Marsalis’ turgid, Pulitzer-winning Blood on the Fields is the prime example. There are of course exceptions to this — and none are more deserving of celebration and rediscovery than John Carter’s opus, “Roots and Folklore.”
It would be hard to imagine a more lofty, ambitious project that Carter’s “Roots and Folklore: Episodes in the Development of American Folk Music,” a five-album suite from the 1980s that not only traces African folk themes through juke-joint R&B, but also seeks to portray a fully realized narrative of the African slave trade. A fair comparison might be Joyce’s Ulysses, which also married a history of formal styles to mythic subject matter. We wonder what was the tougher sell: “Hey, I’ve got a five-LP series called ‘Episodes in the Development of American Folk Music’” or the notion that the episodes corresponded with the history of slavery.
Any way you slice it, this is a monumental work, and it has probably suffered for its ambition. Not the music, at all, but the bigness of it all makes it daunting to approach. It’s as though the series is itself a glorious castle, but as you approach all you can see is WALL. Only in reverse, because in this case, the more you listen, the more approachable it becomes. Though it’s possible to listen with an ear tuned to the narrative elements — the music scoring heavy, sorrowful scenes — repeat plays allow the historical shroud hanging over the material to lift, and the mastery of the band becomes clearer.
The whole album is stunning; Ghana, the second record in the series, is perhaps the pinnacle achievement of the five. “Capture” showcases Carter’s extended solo, a mix of tempered emotion and more unhinged wailing. The way the band comes in behind him deep into the song makes for a wonderful contrast, before they leave his clarinet alone for a heartbreaking coda. “Conversations” pairs various configurations of instruments, including voice, in a way that’s equally unsettling and arresting.
Among the ways the record sidesteps the turgidity trap: (1) the freakin’ band! The playing is so amazing, their interactions generate a friction and soulfulness that resist simple interpretation; (2) the songs! These compositions don’t depend on knowing the narrative. Understanding the context may deepen your listening, but it’s not a prerequisite to enjoying the music, which speaks for itself outside of the program; (3) the respect! This album earns your attention, without assuming that, because it’s about an important subject, you are somehow bound to listen; it works for your affection and takes nothing for granted.
Steve Smith spurred our deeper interest in Carter, and probably that of other readers as well, with his essential blog post on the whole series, brought on by the Iverson/Douglas debates of ’06.
Speaking of debates, here’s a question: Does jazz have to “mean” anything? Is it better (or worse?) when it does, when it’s “about” something?
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
VOTE NOW: We will be closing the Evan Parker poll (see sidebar) soon, but it would be nice if we could get to 100 respondents, which, while still a small sampling, would give the Beak Doctor something to chew on. We’re in the mid-seventies as we type this. If you’re not sure what it’s about, scroll down to “The Majestic.”
POLL IS NOW CLOSED. Many thanks to all who voted. There is clearly strong support for a CD reissue. It’s a skewed sampling, perhaps, and it’s easy to spend imaginary money, but one hopes this small bit of feedback will give The Beak Doctor something to think about.
30 Responses to Castles Made of Sand
Dave Cramer
November 14th, 2007 at 8:49 pm
Stunning music, although the first (Dauwhe) is my favorite. I love the voicings–high and low registers with very little in the middle, making for an ethereal sound.
Rumor is that this band, excellent as it is, was not Carter’s first choice. He wanted to record with his West Coast group (with Roberto Miranda, etc.) but the record label wanted bigger names…
Dave
Charles
November 15th, 2007 at 12:52 am
Thanks for the consistently insightful posts on this blog, including this one on the brilliant work of Carter…it’s truly sad that this work is currently out of print and that it didn’t seem to get the recognition it deserved when it came out…thankfully it lives on here. I have heard the rumor of this band not being Carter’s first choice as well…he did play the tunes live with an LA group before recording it, but I am pretty sure Carter had some say in the group. First of course is Bradford, Carter’s constant musical partner. Davis, Cyrille and Powell were probably (good) ideas from the record company…maybe Ehrlich and Jenoure too, but they were hardly well-established names at the time. Ehrlich still plays with Bradford from time to time too. Baikida Carroll wasn’t exactly a bigger name either…I am pretty sure that Carter knew him through Julius Hemphill, who was Carter’s student in Texas! Incidentally, if I am not mistaken, not long after this recording came out, Carroll had some sort of illness that paralyzed his chops and had to quit playing for years. At any rate, the band is great and I think they met the challenge of the compositions brilliantly. Carter’s writing blends composition and improvisation in a truly unique way making the individual players here that much more important.
Charles
November 15th, 2007 at 1:50 am
Wait…I wanted to comment about the question about jazz being about something. First, I think Carter’s music, particularly vis a vis Marsalis, raises a more specific question: “can/should jazz be programmatic?” This is a much narrower and trickier question than if jazz is about something or nothing. Philosophically, I don’t think there is any reason to question if jazz is meaningful or not. Art always has to have meaning, which implies it is always about something. You might make the argument that something can be meaningful without being about something specific, but this is just a semantic argument. What would music about nothing be? And don’t say Britney Spears…everyone always says Britney Spears at this point…but I digress. We create meaning for every piece of music we listen to–why would we listen to it if it didn’t have a meaning? This doesn’t mean that we need to assign some sort of narrative to the music and interpret a narrative structure onto the music though I know some people who do that (i.e. “here is where Ahab, represented the saxophone, insults Stubb, represented by the piano…etc. etc.”), Generally, the meaning is more diffuse and polysemic, but that doesn’t mean nothing! For example, when I listen to these pieces by Carter, I think they are, like a lot of jazz for me, about the concept of individual choices or even the idea of responsibility…it teaches me something about being an individual, at least right now…maybe tomorrow it will be about something else. It gets a little trickier when there is another layer of the meaning here being about this specific historical narrative of slavery. This leads us to the more specific and bigger question about program music versus absolute music, which is an old question. On the surface, program music is meant to evoke some extra-musical idea, while absolute music is about music itself (relation of notes, harmonic progression, etc.) The opposition is, in my opinion, misleading. Who listens to music to hear the only the notes? Even if you do, the fact that you think notes, or the mathematical relationships to pitch or whatever is important is in fact extra-musical. So, maybe all music is program music? Well, this isn’t exactly satisfactory either: if all music was program music all we would need to would be decode whatever it is trying to represent and we would have fully understood the music (i.e. hey, this sounds like a train! Or even more seriously, this is about bravery, etc.) Once you have decoded the representational, extra-musical signified wouldn’t you be done with the piece? Instead, I think what we have is that the piece continues to speak about that thing, it makes you think more about whatever it is you have made it about. Carter’s composition here was inspired by slavery, and they continue to inspire reflections on my part about that historical narrative, but it is also about individuals, choices, feelings, moods, etc. etc. Marsalis’s program music stinks in this regard, again in my opinion, because it is just too literal, all you really need to connect the dots…you don’t even need to do that, it’s almost just literal. Carter’s suites work because they raise all sorts of questions about the subject…not only can they be understood without the narrative, they open up lots of questions about the narrative itself. Waaaaah…your question really put a bug in philosophical bonnet…I’ll try to say something more pragmatic next time…anyway, thanks for the good work!
John in England
November 15th, 2007 at 3:43 pm
Are you having server problems at your end? Much as I would love to hear Capture all the way through, it keeps timing out on me.
ledrew
November 15th, 2007 at 5:27 pm
Not that we know of, John. Just tested it out and it took about half a minute (albeit on a fast work line). Sorry about your trouble; try again?
Charles, thanks for the heavy lifting. Much to work out there.
John in England
November 16th, 2007 at 11:55 am
Thanks for checking it out — there must have been a problem with my connection. But I have finally succeeded in downloading it after many retries, motivated (of course) by the considerable musical interest. Definitely one of your top selections.
peter breslin
November 16th, 2007 at 12:42 pm
It is PhD-worthy, a look at the void into which these legendary recordings fell at the time of their release. I love to demonize a certain cadre of revisionists, and a strong argument could be made that this sort of composition/arrangement/ensemble playing posed an *inconvenient* truth about this music and was therefore summarily ignored, consciously, willfully, by politicized wankers who knew better. (Think also Threadgill, Blood, Ronald Shannon Jackson, Arthur Blythe, David Murray…a whole wave of innovators who didn’t have to kiss the ass of the past to save jazz). Timing is indeed everything, and Carter’s mid-80s statements were perversely squared to the whole Young Lions bullshit.
These are bald assumptions on my part, not backed up by digging into the original reviews or a list of press from the time. It could be that the general hebetudinous indifference of the great American tardfest is the only factor to blame for the criminal neglect of these recordings.
Something I can’t forget whenever I hear Carter: shortly after he passed from lung cancer, Cyrille told me “The man had a collapsed lung for several years. Can you imagine? He was playing all that with one lung!”
Re: does jazz have to mean something or is it improved or weakened by being “about” something? The straight deconstructionist line is there is no music, only listeners. What might seem reified and absolute is entirely culturally determined. Affekt, for example, as in “happy” or “sad” or “angry” is an impression created by training. The sense that music is “saying something” or “telling a story” is also part of the great culture bath. Playing stochastic Xenakis for high school kids instructs: “Ugh! That’s horror movie music!” We are order-making semioticians by nature (says my cultural conditioning) and might hear a story in 40 people farting and belching in perfect 4ths. The music itself isn’t under the control of the composer or performers, so the authorial intent does not matter. The listener tells whatever story he or she is prepared, trained and willing to tell.
PB
godoggo
November 16th, 2007 at 2:34 pm
The reviews, such as they were, were almost universally positive at the time (the only negative I’ve seen is one online some rockcrit whose name escapes me). To the extent that he’s remained obscure (though he was voted to the DB Hall of fame immediately after his death) it was because he chose to stay in L.A., not because of the Elders of Zion or whatever.
godoggo
November 16th, 2007 at 2:41 pm
Oy, I should have just rolled my eyes and kept walking, but no…
ledrew
November 16th, 2007 at 3:14 pm
I think the negative review you saw, godoggo, is from Christgau, which I also came across in looking into this album’s reception. He’s usually got a very good ear for jazz. Not sure what the Elders of Zion comment is referring to, exactly… perhaps PB’s notion that there was something of an (unconscious?) conspiracy against Carter’s brand of jazz in the 80s?
As for comments, Peter, it’s not clear to me whether you buy the “straight deconstructionist” line, or are just laying it out. I agree that to a large extent music is assigned meaning in the ears and mind of listeners, but to ignore the context in which it is offered — Carter, for example, appends a very brief spoken comment at the end of this album, sort of summarizing what he’s on about — is to miss an opportunity for enriching the experience.
godoggo
November 16th, 2007 at 3:37 pm
Anyways, I saw him play this album in its entirety with an L.A.-based group, and the order of the movements was randomly shuffled, which I think is consistent with my feeling athat the programmatic stuff was essentially irrelevant to the music, much as (weird comparison coming…) the 12-tone system is irrelevant to the beauty of Schoenberg’s music…that is, it’s relevant only to the extent that it helps the artist access his intuition and (at least with programmatic music) emotions. Looking for metaphors in music is fine, but the most meaningful ones are likely to be those that the artist didn’t consciously plan.
Charles
November 16th, 2007 at 11:23 pm
I had forgotten the little speech / poem / blurb at the end of this album, I popped in the player and reminded myself. This is what Carter says (over a polyrhythmic African-like rhythm on percussion) : “The journey facing these captives would prove to be truly arduous and eventful. A journey that would, before its completion, interrupt and redirect the dynamics of human existence on our planet.”
This is pretty interesting. I was actually a little shocked at how literal it was. There is no way around the fact that Carter really intended this, at least on album, as program music. It’s not that the pieces don’t stand alone, they definitely do, it’s just that he really really wants us to think about his inspiration for this music while we listen to it.
It really is quite similar in intent and content to Marsalis’s _Blood on the Fields_ . We can debate the not-so-finer points of their differences, but basically we are dealing with two artists drawing on slavery’s impact on world history or at least American history. Marsalis’s is two-and-half hours with lots of spoken narration, and Carter’s is, hmm, could it be as much as 5 or 6 hours spread out over the entire series, with tiny bits of spoken word and other extremely literal references (African drumming here, the harmonica solo there. etc.) His spoken statement at the end of this album is by the far the most literal part of the entire series. So, I agrue Marsalis is more literal, less interpretative, probably even less reflective of the subject matter than Carter. I think Carter says more about slavery in the 40 second spoken word track than Marsalis did in his entire piece , but yeah, those are just my own culturally biased opinions.
I am certainly not a straight deconstruction, though I may be an elder of Zion…where do I sign up for that, does it involve cool hats of any kind…anyway… Deconstructionist or not, the meaning of music..hell, the meaning of everything important really…has to be cultural or at least situated within a cultural context. The only possible non-cultural meaning of music would deal with what is empirically, and unquestionably there: the notes, the vibrations, etc. However, we would still need a cultural bias that tells us that empirical facts are worthwhile or that music should be valued by its objectivity. This is not necessarily true of everything. For example, no amount of cultural context will make your car go faster or keep my house from collapsing in an earthquake. But, in music and all art, it is up us (as listeners, as interpreters) . The composer’s intentions are, strictly speaking, secondary to the interpreter’s ideas. The whole idea of any art is open up the process of interpretation. One generally doesn’t write traffic laws with haikus for example…we want poetry (or art or music) to tell us more than one thing. However, this doesn’t mean that the artist’s intentions are irrelevant. Far from it, we can and often do privilege intention in our own subjective meaning. In other words, we can subjectively believe that the best understanding of the piece is the composer’s and thus, the best possible understanding of that piece is to match exactly what the composer had in mind and conversely, to ignore the composer’s intentions would be to misunderstand the piece. This seems to go counter to my basic premise of art as always open to interpretation, enough so that I would say that privileging intention is not a particularly useful cultural convention. This why program music raises some serious questions, and even more than that, program music in free jazz. Forget about Wynton for a minute as he is not interested in freedom and I am sure he would very well ascribe to a composer’s intention bias. I think it actually pretty shocking that Carter’s series is so programmatic. This is taking it a bit further than just using a title to allude to some sort of inspiration, and lot’s of jazz does this..the title gives some sort of clue to a pieces narrative/mood/inspiration. I think it is safe to say that we can appreciate “Karen on Monday” without knowing Karen or even thinking about Monday and that probably wouldn’t indicate a gross misunderstanding of the piece (and of course the piece itself doesn’t have some one reading a narrative about Karen and Monday). At any rate, most titles of jazz tunes, even free jazz tunes, work along the lines of intentionality (or at least inspiration), they aren’t just names. But full-blown program music strikes me as more rare. The real mystery is why I love this series by Carter so much and I think it is has to do with the fact that he evokes the subject matter so well, so interpretatively…I think to ignore his intentions and inspiration here would be to misunderstand it a bit, which is my own cultural bias…but I also think that he makes very little literal statements about slavery in the music, and rather he opens up a number of dialogues or raises questions about it….so, for me, I want to say this is not program music as it is not literal and certainly not meant merely to communicate some literal message about slavery (and I suspect Marsalis’s is in fact closer to program music strictly speaking, and I imagine he might agree with me). But then here comes the little spoken word part! Damn John…but I love to hear his deeply missed voice…. I want to associate these pieces with the program! I enjoy associating them with his intentions. I should note that I do not usually do that. I have never been to East Saint Louis and have never toodle-oo’d, but I can listen to that piece all day. It is also worth noting that the inspiration or intention of any given piece is just one of many possible meanings. Sometimes I find it very beautiful to try to follow the compositional methods used by serial composers, but I generally don’t. With this music by Carter, the way he presents it and the message itself is very compelling to me and my own cultural understanding. I don’t want to dismiss it or ignore it and I would even go so far as to say that you haven’t fully understood the music if you ignore it.
Are there any other examples of free jazz “program” music where one would want to associate specific narratives or inspirations to the music to the degree that Carter has asked us to do with this series?
One more little note, I am reminded here of Carter’s stunning solo clarinet suite called, also shockingly, _Suite of Early American Folk Pieces_ the titles of the pieces on the album make reference to African American folk music, sort of…but the music even less so. It is the greatest solo clarinet album ever I think.
peter breslin
November 16th, 2007 at 11:57 pm
Hi- Maybe some of Duke Ellington’s suites, I guess especially Black Brown and Beige, but perhaps not “to the degree that Carter has asked us to do.” Brotzmann’s Fuck de Boer?
PB
peter breslin
November 17th, 2007 at 12:11 am
Ledrew, I think the beauty of Carter’s (and Ellington’s) kind of program music is it’s *evocative*, as Charles also points out. That means I don’t have to follow it like a slide show. Titles and frameworks make a huge difference to me in creating context, and I would probably hear this music differently if, for example, the pieces just had Braxton-like diagrams for titles. The fine quality of these recordings is in large measure a result of Carter and company trusting me to have my own imagination as well as being able to engage with theirs.
PB
ledrew
November 17th, 2007 at 1:28 am
Peter, no argument here. I share your view, and think you stated that well.
And: damn, Charles. Somewhere in there I think you hit on why we are hesitant to embrace program music — about which we formally know very little, I should add.
Charles
November 17th, 2007 at 3:25 am
I’ve got a lot on mind…and only a little bit of control over it. Peter, yeah Ellington really does have a lot evocative program-like (and at least a few actually programmatic pieces…that do sound like trains). The more I think about it, it gets pretty hard for me to listen to music without at least considering something of the intention of artist, even though most often that intention is more abstract. Coltrane’s Love Supreme…even Archie Shepp’s Four for Trane..how can I listen to that without thinking about Coltrane? Or AECO Dreaming of the Masters… it’s hard to take evocation out of the picture. So perhaps, at least from my cultural perspective, I am using some sort of scale or degree of evocation. On one end of the spectrum is literal program (i.e. extra-musical association) and at the other end would be complete subjectivity (or maybe wholly self-referential?) Either end of the spectrum is not fully satisfying to me, though I would typically prefer the subjective/self-referential end. Carter’s Episodes… is way off to the literal side for me..it is not that just that it is evocative, which all of his music is I think, it is that the series has some literal reference that imposes a frame-work or even, dare I say, limit on my own interpretation.
Odd, I was thinking about Braxton’s titles as I was writing too. At first they seem to be a good example of non-evocative, especially when they are referred by a number (Composition 51 – that swings hard!) but then the actual title is some sort of diagram, which incidentally is probably meant to be more literally evocative of the composer’s intentions than a title with words…and trying to describe them by the diagram/drawing ends up forcing you to practically perform the piece…paradoxically much more like actual program music than usual…except that the referenced thing might be the score itself or something…
I need to set up some sort of character limit for myself for these posts don’t I?
godoggo
November 17th, 2007 at 12:33 pm
I really hate to even mention Wynton again in a place where so many people view him with varying degrees of deafening hate, but I just wanted to point out that his piece is really more of an opera than a programmatic work. Also it’s very through composed, wheareas in the Carter the writing is pretty restricted – it’s really there to set up and interact with the improvisation. (Long sentence alert) What always made the Carter especially effective for me was that at one extreme, there are passages that are very obviously composed, and at the other extreme you have the purely improvised interplay between Carter and Bradford, in which little that either plays relates to what the other plays in any rational way, yet because they can feel each other so well, it all works; and between these two extremes you have these passages that are an extension of Carter’s improvisational conception, allowing a sort of idealized group improvisation in which the empathy among the players periodically seems to take a magical leap into actual harmony or unison. When I saw the piece performed it was fascinating (and a bit disconcerting) for me to see the musicians cuing each other for written passages and riffs that on record had always seemed to arise spontaneously out of the primordial ooze, but [insert conclusion here].
godoggo
November 17th, 2007 at 1:20 pm
Perhaps “irrelevant” was an overly-strong word, but I never felt that the story-line had much to do with what made the music effective (and I get a little annoyed when I keep seeing that Smith post held up as the last word on the Carter, since it hardly discusses the music at all).
My point with Schoenberg arose from 1) a statement of his that serialism was, if I recall right, “a personal system” (which I seem to recall him saying he wouldn’t teach it to anybody), and 2) studies that have shone that trained musicians can’t recognize by ear whether or not the rules are being followed. The essence of his music is what is intuited, and for me it’s always thus. As a listener I always try (unless I’m using the music as background) to emphasize with the musician’s decision making process, and his irrational leaps, and I feel dissatisfied if I don’t feel they are occurring.
For me the purpose of planning and structure are 1) to delineate a path to point from which the musician can leap into the irrational 2) to fake intuition (which is a good thing).
(an aside, I also think expression of emotions – love, anger, etc – is important, and I think musical feeling – swing of some sort or another – is important, but I’m not talking about these directly here, though for example you can often read “structure” as something like “emotional arc”).
For me the main importance of Carter’s storyline was that it provided him with an effective structure. As a general rule I like programmatic conceits because they tend to result in music that is ambitious and colorful and dramatic and emotional, but ultimately the literal meaning of the conceit is of secondary importance at best, and often disposable.
godoggo
November 17th, 2007 at 1:25 pm
forgot a phrase: “which I seem to recall him saying he wouldnâ??t teach it to anybody” should have been followed by something like “but if so he obviously changed his mind about that”
godoggo
November 17th, 2007 at 1:29 pm
also: “emphasize with the musicianâ??s decision making process”…Please add a lisp to the word “emphasize.”
…and so on.
peter breslin
November 17th, 2007 at 4:18 pm
Some of the Art Ensemble’s efforts are perhaps literally “program music,” or at least seem to have rather literal titles. People in Sorrow, maybe. But definitely The Spiritual, South Side Chicago Street Dance, (really, in a way, all of Urban Bushmen), etc. I don’t know, maybe I’m confusing a clear intention to tell a story musically with “program music,” per se.
Has anyone ever heard any sections of Braxton’s opera? I’d be curious about that. It’s called Trillium, right?
Would Interstellar Space qualify as program music?
One of the favorite devices of jazz composers seems to be coded or personally relevant titles that have a backstory, like Donna Lee or Orange Was the Color of Her Dress, Then Silk Blue, or Sonny, Please!
The more I reflect on this the more confused I get. I keep coming back to Grofe’s Grand Canyon Suite (which was a favorite allusion for bop players) as maybe “pure” program music.
PB
Charles
November 17th, 2007 at 6:49 pm
This is wildly entertaining for me. Excellent points godoggo…Blood on the Fields and Roots and Folklore are indeed essentially different genres.
Let me try to clarify something: Program music generally would refer to instrumental music that is meant to sound like something non-musical unlike absolute music, which is only about “music”. This is a rather old-fashioned, and I argue a somewhat useless opposition used mostly by pre-postmodern musicologists. The problem is that all meaning really is non (or extra) musical in some way, and thus it is all program music (or all absolute music if you are dull). But thinking more about the nature (actually I mean “ontology” here but nobody understands me when I say that) of what usually gets called program music, it is clear that it is not that it is referential or evocative that makes it unique, but the specificity of the reference. It works towards limiting or restricting its interpretation. It is not so much a question of what the music actually means, but what makes it important to us and at the same what would constitute a misunderstanding of it.
I guess another thing that complicates the matter is that there is music that does not have a back story, or make an attempt to limit its meaning in anyway. Except that in those cases it is rather difficult not to take into greater account the people making it and the specific instance of its creation (i.e. its historicity), which is pretty similar to abstract art. Improvisation causes some interesting problems here along these lines too. We feel compelled to appreciate the method used to generate the music as part of our understanding, which necessarily includes the individuals and the historical specificity of its being made. The spontaneity itself becomes a part of the meaning, a part of the extra-musical connotation. This still doesn’t quite explain why many of us bristle at the notion programmatic music though! I think we just don’t like Wynton.
Speaking of Braxton and abstract art. Check out the titles of some his ghost trance pieces, as appearing on his own Tri-axiom Braxton House web page:
http://www.wesleyan.edu/music/braxton/braxtonhouse/
Unfortunately I cannot quite figure out how the lamp or the table quite figure into the music on the recordings…but like Schoenberg’s tone rows, its kind of fun to try to chase down, knowing that I will probably fail and have other ideas enter my mind instead.
Quoting Grofe is a particularly strange example. Grand Canyon Suite would qualify as old-fasioned program music for sure. But Bird quoting it probably wouldn’t, from a pre-postmodern perspective, Bird would be making reference to the music itself since you are not supposed to suddenly picture the Grand Canyon in the middle of “All the things you are”… the funny thing is that now that has been quoted so many times by so many people that it no longer refers to the Grand Canyon nor Grofe but to bebop itself…the program got hijacked! I love the concept, though I hate to hear it quoted by anyone on the bandstand.
Charles
November 17th, 2007 at 6:57 pm
Is the Smith post being held up as the last word on Carter? I thought it was being held up as the first word in his revival…which I thought was funny because I didn’t read it until after I followed the link here, and then to the Bad Plus blog…I am still learning how to play the internet…anyway, from my perspective, I didn’t know the 70s-90s weren’t important to jazz and in need of resurrection since I have listened to this stuff since, well, it came out and never really stopped. Apparently no one invited me to the funeral, but I am all for revivals…it would be kind of nice if it led more people to go see these cats, buy their records, etc. Bobby Bradford has no any record label interest, but he certainly could use some and I imagine there would be some of us who would enjoy hearing him on CD.
godoggo
November 20th, 2007 at 11:15 pm
“Is the Smith post being held up as the last word on Carter?” Probably not. You know, blog comments are weird because you blurt something out and it’s there forevermore. But I thought it missed what I saw as the point of the music.
Bobby played on Nels Cline’s Andrew Hill tribute last year, of course. A lot of people don’t have label interest these days…
Matt Weiner
November 26th, 2007 at 11:55 am
There’s actually a lot of verbal elements in Carter’s cycle over and above the spoken word here — on the third album, there’s singing to go along with the African drums and a song from the point of view of a woman raped by a slaver captain; on the fourth there’s “Ballad of Po’ Ben” and a monologue at the end of “Fields,” as well as the field recordings of Carter’s great-uncle (?); and the fifth is almost entirely vocal, including the extremely programmatic “And I Saw Them” spoken by the personified voice of The Blues. In fact, I just now realized this, the albums have more words as they go along in the cycle, more or less linearly.
Not intending any comparision with Wynton here — I haven’t even heard most of Blood on the Fields.
And wasn’t the first one, Dauwhe, done with his West Coast band? It was on a different label too (Black Saint).
More programmatic music…. Glenn Spearman’s Blues for Falasha, and a couple of Mingus things (Pithecanthropus Erectus definitely, Meditations maybe, some of the spoken word stuff, Fables of Faubus), Marion Brown’s “Afternoon of a Georgia Faun” is a sound-painting kind of in the same way as Grofe. And weren’t Henry Threadgill’s first three Sextett albums supposed to be a trilogy about the death of a computer? And looking around I just got reminded of Billy Bang’s Vietnam albums and John Lindberg’s “Dresden Moods.”
For programmatic
Matt Weiner
November 26th, 2007 at 11:56 am
And I just realized I posted six days too late… oh well, hope someone reads it.
ledrew
November 26th, 2007 at 2:22 pm
Not too late for us, anyway, Matt. Thanks for the contributions. Re programmatic music, it does sort of turn into a slipperly slope, with semantics sort of taking over, as more and more albums seem to potentially fit the bill. But we hope it’s at least good food for thought.
charles
November 27th, 2007 at 2:23 am
Matt…after posting the last message I left, I went back to listened to whole series again too and you’ve got it right, there are more and more words. I have those Threadgill discs, but nobody told me they were about the death of a computer…no wonder I liked them so much. But it’s not exactly program music! Is it? “Meditations” never actually sounds like wire cutters and a song about Gov. Faubus doesn’t sound like Faubus, etc. i.e. not program in the old-fashioned sense of the term.
Godog…I guess we both live in LA…did you go see the Ark at World Stage Sunday? They play the last Sunday of every month when the world is lucky.
Matt Weiner
November 28th, 2007 at 8:42 pm
Ah, I should have read your post more closely about program music. I’ll have to go for Mingus’s “A Foggy Day (in San Francisco)” then. And Ellington’s train pieces, or David Murray’s “Train Whistle” if you want something more recent.
godoggo
December 3rd, 2007 at 12:17 am
I don’t get to the World Stage as much as I’d like, for various reasons. But I’ll keep my eyes open for Ark gigs.