It has taken a few weeks for me to drum up the courage to write this but, while nobody is happy about the drowning and the death and destruction in the birthplace of America's only native art form, the fact remains that the prehistoric jazz music New Orleans is noted for had already been under water for nigh on to half a century.
The music was hit by tragedy a long time ago, and the modern- day flood might even be good for it in the long run.
Any sensitive person who has recently visited that ruin of a Preservation Hall to hear the moldy jazz being played there cannot have been able to ignore the sadness of the doddering, arthritic, musical dry rot.
A more realistic preservation program from here on in might include a program to build bright, airy nursing homes with out-of- tune upright pianos, tinny crash cymbals and a groove-handled broomstick of a one-string bass for those who still feel the need to play and/or listen to that caveman stuff.
Please do not consider me flippant. It is my say, it is certainly not objective. The way I look at it, there is little jazz culture to rebuild in New Orleans. Except the tourist jazz culture, that is. By all means, let's rebuild it. Tourism provides gigs for musicians, and jobs for everybody. Rebuild tourism, just don't kid ourselves and get it confused with music.
Lively Masters
This is not by any means to say that all elderly jazz musicians dry out. ``Au contraire, mes amis.'' The one big change in the nature of jazz in recent years is that the masters live longer and that they play better and deeper. Remember Elvin Jones, who died last year at 76. And you can still listen to Roy Haynes, Clark Terry, Buddy De Franco, and Marian McPartland, or for that matter Woody Allen, who retain great creativity and are blossoming in their seventies and even eighties.
No, it is not the players who have dried out in New Orleans, it is the style of music. There was no more juice there. This is not being said in bitterness or hostility. It must, though, be clear that as far as I am concerned, the prospect of not hearing any more artificially preserved New Orleans jazz is not a total downer. ``Let it come down,'' as Shakespeare wrote in Macbeth, equating rain and ruin. There are no more dinosaurs for a reason.
New Music
Plenty of good music came out of New Orleans in the latter half of the 20th century -- the Marsalis brothers and Harry Connick Jr., to cite some good examples -- but, like so many provincial cities, the valuable new music in New Orleans is only appreciated when it comes out of the city. It goes to New York, Boston, Chicago, San Francisco, Amsterdam or Paris.
There are plenty of good people in provincial cities who choose to stay with their families and play their horns for local Saturday night parties while working a day gig at the post office. That is an honorable choice, it reveals solid family values. But it is not putting music first.
New Orleans maintained the fiction of a center. The celebration of the so-called ``birthplace of jazz'' became an industry in itself. There is nothing wrong with memorializing the music of jazz's start, so long as I do not have to listen to it.
Here's a suggestion for renewal: New Orleans is going to be reborn one way or another. Why don't the city fathers try to get a new slant on 21st century jazz by renaming ``Louis Armstrong'' International Airport ``Satchmo International''? (Satchmo is a shortening of Satchelmouth, Louis's nickname.)
Flying With Pops
Maybe they can build a cyber version of Preservation Hall in the terminal building. The looser nickname certainly sounds truer to the spirit of the music. (Another nickname. Pops International Airport ain't too bad either.) People might start dancing new dances. Obviously, some new thinking is needed here.
Even better, maybe the birthplace of jazz should be moved to Paris, which is dry, and full of young musicians who love New Orleans music. New Orleans jazz has for years been more alive in Paris, where the clubs are full of young Scandinavians and Germans dancing to French Dixieland bands playing New Orleans music as though their lives depended on it. In Paris, New Orleans jazz is young, creative, and commercial. Long live Old Orleans.
By Mike Zwerin. Reprinted from bloomberg.com
(The opinions expressed do not necessarily reflect those of Bloomberg.)
To contact the writer of this story: mikezwerin@free.fr
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