Much has been written over the years about the evolution of jazz, about its intellectualization, about its elitist appeal, and also about its decline and descent into the realm of popular American music.
One belief is that if jazz is to survive as a truly authentic art form, it must resist the influences of popular culture and stay true to its Afro-American roots. Many old-school jazz critics continue to hold that popular culture not only threatens jazz’s legitimacy and legacy as an art form, but also threatens its very survival (There is of course a difference between “survival” defined in terms of economic marketability—selling records—and “survival” in terms of legacy—Ellington will always be great. It was thought for a long time that jazz could not survive on its own terms, that it needed to broaden its appeal to a constantly changing age demographic). They claim that authentic jazz must be preserved from the pernicious influence of popular American music.
As an example, probably no other jazz critic personifies this elitist approach better than Stanley Crouch. He made it clear in his infamous 1990 essay “Play the Right Thing: Miles Davis, the Most Brilliant Sellout in the History of Jazz” that Davis rejected, nay abandoned, jazz’s Afro-American authenticity (which, unfortunately, for Miles did not sell a lot of records) by replacing it with a “youth culture vulgarity that vandalizes the sweep and substance of Afro-American life” (Bitches Brew sold more than any other Davis album) (Crouch).
Obviously Crouch wrote that essay almost twenty-five years ago, and the “sweep and substance of Afro-American life” is radically different now. Jazz, at the risk of overstating the obvious, will continue to evolve as an art form, but it is its spirit that will endure unchanged. It’s inevitable, I suppose, that some critics will continue to use the legacies of jazz greats as a touchstone for the next generation of emerging young jazz artists, and rightly so, but it’s also important to listen what they say and how they say it.
Speaking of emerging young jazz artists, (finally to the point of this post) Cécile McLorin Salvant is an enormous talent. Her voice seems to have channeled the best of Sarah Vaughan, Ella Fitzgerald, and Billie Holiday; I even hear traces of Bessie Smith, Josephine Baker, and Madeleine Peyroux in her voice. Yet, she is so young.
I first discovered Cécile last year, courtesy of a Jacky Terrasson performance video posted on Youtube by Deghelt Productions. Terrasson and his trio had been appearing worldwide in 2012 to promote the September release of his upcoming album Gouache, and Cécile had been touring with him.
The video is of a performance Terrasson did at the Saint Emilion Jazz Festival (France) in 2012. It opens with Cécile’s brooding version of John Lennon’s “Oh My Love” (which also appears on Gouache). I was mesmerized by her performance.
Cécile McLorin Salvant’s WomanChild, her debut album, was released in May of last year and garnered rave reviews. She’s backed up by the amazing pianist Aaron Diehl (check out the brilliant solo on Salvant’s original “WomanChild”), bassist, Detroit-native, Rodney Whitaker, guitarist James Chirillo, whose minimalist on “St. Louis Gal” is perfect accompaniment to Salvant’s bluesy, bar-room vocals, and drummer Herlin Riley. The highlights of the record are “WomanChild” and an intensely emotional interpretation of “What a Little Moonlight Can Do,” a song closely associated with Billie Holiday.
On February 22nd, at the Newmark Theater her in Portland, Oregon, Salvant is slated to open for legendary bassist Buster Williams during the Portland Jazz Festival. Buster Williams is appearing with his band trombonist Julian Priester, multi-reedist Benny Maupin, pianist George Colligan, and drummer Cindy Blackman-Santana. Chances are Salvant may be joining Williams at the end of his set.
Source: Crouch, Stanley. “Play the Right Thing: Miles Davis, the Most Brilliant Sellout in the History of Jazz.” The New Republic 12 Feb. 1990: 30+. Web. 9 Feb. 2014.
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