Okay, okay… yes, here’s yet another year-end poll. Some of you Independent Ear readers may recall our revealing series of dialogues with black music writers (that is, writers on the subject of music who happen to be African American) which we dubbed “Ain’t but a few of us” – as in, there’s a significant number of folks writing about jazz and black music, but not as many African Americans as there should be. Well, as we close out 2011 we’ve asked that crew to weigh in with their best-of list from 2011 record releases (designated below according to the writer’s choice); and to also include what for them was the most compelling book they read in 2011 (any subject), and their favorite live music performance experience. Here’s what they had to say (recordings listed by artist, title, label):

BRIDGET ARNWINE
Favorite Recordings of 2011 (“in no particular order, except for #s 1 and 2)
Freddie Hubbard, Pinnacle, Resonant
Delfeayo Marsalis, Sweet Thunder
(Orrin Evans) Captain Black Big Band, Captain Black Big Band, Posi-Tone
Branford Marsalis & Joey Calderazzo, Songs of Mirth and Melancholy, Marsalis Music
Helen Sung, (re)Conception
Gonzalo Rubalcaba, Fe/Faith
James Farm, James Farm, Nonesuch
Wayne Wallace, To Hear From There,
Jeff “Tain” Watts, Family
Terri Lyne Carrington, The Mosaic Project, Concord

Favorite book of 2011 (“I wouldn’t call it compelling”): Decoded by Jay-Z and Dream Hampton
Favorite live music performance: James Farm at the Clarice Smith Center for the Performing Arts, September 2011

EUGENE HOLLEY, JR.
Recordings (not listed in any particular order):
Ambrose Akinmusire, When the Heart Emerges Glistening, Blue Note
Orrin Evans, Captain Black Big Band, Posi-Tone
Charles Lloyd-Maria Farantouri, The Athens Concert, ECM
Ben Williams, State of Art, Concord
Deep Blue Organ Trio, Wonderful!, Origin
Kurt Elling, The Gate, Concord
Enoch Smith, Jr., Misfits, Music 4MYPeople Entertainment
James Carter Organ Trio, At the Crossroads, EmArcy
Warren Wolf, Warren Wolf, Mack Avenue
Fabian Almanzan Trio, Possibilities, Biophilla/Palmetto

Book: Rifftide: The Life and Opinions of Papa Joe Jones, by Papa Jo Jones/Paul Devlin (as told to Albert Murray)
Live: Esperanza Spalding at The Roots Picnic, Philadelphia, PA

ROBIN JAMES
Top 1-10 Records Released in 2011
Jill Scott, The Light of the Sun, Blues Babe Records
Various Artists, !Rumba Mambo Cha Cha Cha!, Putumayo World Music
Diego Urcola, Appreciation, CamJazz
Freddy Cole, Talk to Me, HighNote
Freddie Hubbard, Pinnacle, Resonance
Ambrose Akinmusire, When the Heart Emerges Glistening, Blue Note
Jeremy Pelt, The Talented Mr. Pelt, HighNote
Nicholas Payton, Bitches, In + Out
JD Allen Trio, Victory!, Sunnyside
Ernestine Anderson, Nightlife: Live at Dizzy’s CLub Coca-Cola, HighNote

Most Compelling Book I’ve read during 2011: Thelonious Monk: The Life and Times of an American Original (paperback edition), by Robin D.G. Kelley
Favorite Live Music performance I’ve experienced during 2011: Debbie Duncan (vocalist) at the Artists’ Quarter, St. Paul, MN (summer)

RAHSAAN CLARK MORRIS
My Ten Best
Jose James and Jef Neve-For All We Know Impulse Records
Terri Lyne Carrington-The Mosaic Project Concord
Larry Gray Trio-Three Equals One CDBY Records
Deep Blue Organ Trio – Wonderful! Origin Records
Cedar Walton – The Bouncer HighNote
Miles Davis – Live in Europe 1967 Columbia Legacy
Benny Green Trio-Source Jazz Legacy Productions
Eliane Elias-Light My Fire Concord
Greg Ward Fitted Shards- South Side Story 19/8 Records
Jason Adasiewicz-Sun Rooms Delmark Records

My favorite read was a toss-up: Thelonious Monk: The Life and Times of an American Original by Robin Kelley and Diggin: The Afro American Soul of American Classical Music by Amiri Baraka
My favorite performance was Mike Reed’ (truncated) People, Places, and Things Quartet with Greg Ward live at The Green Mill Jazz Club in early June.

JOHN MURPH
Top 10 Jazz
JD Allen Trio, Victory, Sunnyside
Gretchen Parlato, The Lost & Found, Obliq Sound
Terri Lyne Carrington, The Mosaic Project, Concord
The Claudia Quintet +1, What is the Beautiful?, Cunieform
Ambrose Akinmusire, When the Heart Emerges Glistening, Blue Note
Chris Dingman, Walking Dreams, Between Worlds
Zara MacFarlane, Until Tomorrow, Brownswood
Denys Baptiste, Identity by Subtraction, Dune
Miguel Zenon, Alma Adento: The Puerto Rican Songbook, Marsalis Music
David Binney, Graylen Epicenter, Mythology

Favorite book: African Rhythms, the Autobiography of Randy Weston, Composed by Randy Weston; Arranged by Willard Jenkins

GENE SEYMOUR
Top Ten Jazz Discs For 2011
Sonny Rollins, Road Shows Vol. 2, Doxy
Ambrose Akinmusire, When the Heart Emerges Glistening, Blue Note
Noah Preminger, Before the Rain, Palmetto
Allen Lowe, Blues and the Empirical Truth, Music & Arts
Muhal Richard Abrams, SoundDance, Pi
Craig Taborn, Avenging Angel, EMI
Youn Sun Nah, Same Girl, ACT
Bill Frisell, Sign of Life, Savoy
Miguel Zenon, Alma Adento: The Puerto Rican Songbook, Marsalis Music
Evan Christopher, Remembering Song, Arbors

GREGORY THOMAS
Favorite 10 Recordings (listed in no particular order)
Aaron Goldberg and Guillermo Klein, Bienestan, Sunnyside
Monty Alexander, Harlem-Kingston Express, Motema
Christian McBride, Conversations with Christian, Mack Avenue
Miguel Zenon, Alma Adentro: The Puerto Rican Songbook, Marsalis Music
Warren Wolf, Warren Wolf, Mack Avenue
Bobby Sanabria, Tito Puente Masterworks Live!, Jazzheads
Freddie Hubbard, Pinnacle, Resonance
Jimmy Owens, The Monk Project, Ipo
Branford Marsalis & Joey Calderazzo, Songs of Mirth and Melancholy, Marsalis Music
JC Stylles, Exhiliration and Other States, Motema

RON WYNN
Top 10
David Murray Cuban Ensemble, Plays Nat King Cole en Espanol, Motema
Roy Haynes, Roy-alty, Dreyfus
Branford Marsalis & Joey Calderazzo, Songs of Mirth and Melancholy, Marsalis Music
Joe Lovano and Us Five, Bird Songs, Blue Note
David Sanchez/Stefon Harris/Christian Scott, Ninety Miles, Concord
Brad Mehldau, Live in Marciac, Nonesuch
Terri Lyne Carrington, The Mosaic Project, Concord
Kurt Elling, The Gate, Concord
Sonny Rollins, Road Songs Vol. 2, Doxy
Tierney Sutton, American Road, BFM

Books (music) New Atlantis: Musicians Battle for the Survival of New Orleans, by John Swenson
(general) Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention, by Manning Marable
Top musical event: (“easy choice”) Sonny Rollins Quartet at the Schermerhorn Symphony Hall (Nashville, TN)

WILLARD JENKINS
2011 faves in no particular order
(More than 10 here? Call that editor’s license.)
Miles Davis Quintet, Live in Europe 1967-The Bootleg Series, Columbia
Terri Lyne Carrington, Mosaic Project, Concord
JD Allen, Victory, Sunnyside
Wynton Marsalis & Eric Clapton, Play the Blues, Reprise/JALC
Charles Lloyd, Athens Concert, ECM
Terell Stafford, This Side of Strayhorn, MaxJazz
Randy Weston, Blue Moses, CTI (reissue)
David Murray Cuban Ensemble, Plays Nat King Cole en Espanol, Motema
SF Jazz Collective, Music of Stevie Wonder, SF Jazz
James Farm, James Farm, Nonesuch
Ben Williams, State of Art, Concord
Muhal Richard Abrams, Focus Thru Time, Pi
Marcus Shelby, Soul of the Movement, Porto Franco
Jerry Gonzalez, El Commando de Clave, Sunnyside
Dennis Rollins Velocity Trio, The 11th Gate, Motema
Miguel Zenon, Alma Adentro, Marsalis Music

Book: (tossup) Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention, by Manning Marable
High on the Hog: A Culinary Journey from Africa to America, by Jessica B. Harris
Live performance:Sing the Truth (Dianne Reeves, Angelique Kidjo, Lizz Wright, Terri Lyne Carrington, Geri Allen, etc.), Tanglewood Jazz Festival, September 4

Ain’t But a Few of Us… – Black music writers tell their story.
by Lofton A. Emenari, III – Part 1

Many years ago I learned that being a so-called “Black” writer on jazz music would be an enriching but harrowing journey. It would not be out of the question to say that I was a ‘child of the civil rights movement’. With parents that instilled a love of kith and kin, past and present, ever cognizant of the social realities abounding. It was from this fertile nest that I became a writer/journalist – initially seeking, altruistically to address seeming wrongs and speak for the unheard and unseen. Jazz was a part of my household – played everyday either on the record player or radio. As a child I was exposed to Downbeat magazine and became an avid reader in high school. Then I had no real working knowledge of ‘Black’ writers per se in the field yet once out of high school I would join various writers collectives in Chicago. That alone gave me more intellectual power/measure. And the first black writers I learned of were Leroy Jones/Amiri Baraka and A.B. Spellman. And while Baraka would leave the jazz arena for a moment, it took years for me to break his spell on not only my thinking but writing style as well. He was that influential motivator.

Later I would be influenced by the writings of Albert Murray, Ralph Ellison, Richard Wright, Ted Joans and ultimately Stanley Crouch. These were icons who set the bar. They collectively told OUR story as no others dare or could. It was because of them that I diligently studied the history of this music. It was, as Val Wilmer’s classic tome indicated, “As Serious As your Life”. The study of this music, the very research began in the venues and in the very lives of the musicians themselves. Study this music I did. Everywhere the music was I went to hear and feel it. In the same time I became a broadcast journalist, having a weekly jazz radio show on WHPK-FM University of Chicago. It was there that I would meet Ted Pankin, who remains one of the most knowledgeable and interesting writers on jazz – Black or white. Ted followed the exploits of the avant garde in particular the AACM (an all Black music collective supposedly espousing a Black nationalist agenda. More on that later).

I would form some lasting friendships with some of the musics most gloried pracitioners. At this point by my count I’ve interviewed over 1,000 musicians. I first became a published writer on jazz through the initial impact of reading ‘underground’ magazines like ‘The Grackle’, which was published in New York by a loose coterie of black writers in Roger Riggins, Ron Welburn and James Turner. this was in the mid to late 70s. Yet I was to find out there were more Black writers out there when copies of The Jazz Spotlite made their way to Chicago outside of New York. Here in Chicago there were perhaps two Black writers on jazz – Brent Staples (who since is an editor at the NY Times) and Salim Muwwakil, one time editor of Muhammad Speaks and current columnist of ‘In These Times’. They would become invaluable mentors and significant friends.

My first article for a ‘major’ jazz publication was Downbeat ‘79 (thanks to then editor Howard Mandel, who serves as the head of the Jazz Journalist Association). Yearly, I’ve voted in the annual Downbeat International Critics Poll. I began writing about jazz in many various community newspapers and journals; with a 10 year column in the Chicago Observer; 28 years in the Chicago Citizen Newspaper Group. At one point because of the apathy I felt was prevalent in jazz journalism I published a journal The Creative Arts Review, which I garnered articles from writers, mostly unpublished on the music (i solicited articles regardless of gender or race). It was a one issue wonder that included the writing of voices such as Hakim Sulieman (an unrecognized jazz historian and archivist); Brent Staples; Larry Queen (an accomplished ‘black’ art critic); Keith Boseman and a few others. But it was mainly a platform for my theories on the music.

Over the years I’ve found the niche of ‘liner note’ writing to be almost a closed circle. This is particularly prevalent with the so-called major jazz labels. In the late 70s early 80s I began to query some of the musicians I knew, on a personal basis about writing liners for them. I asked, in no certain order Robert Watson; David Murray; Joe Henderson; Arthur Blythe; Terrance Blanchard/Donald Harrison; Wallace Roney, Javon Jackson and many others. Only Blanchard/Harrison, Jackson and Wallace Roney granted my wish. This was for Columbia/Sony, a major label. And at the time they were a ‘major’ voice in the wake of the ‘Marsalis’ phenomenon. Roney, of that ‘wave’ was with a major/minor label in Muse. And consequently I’d secure liner gigs with Donald Brown, Billy Pierce and Stephen Scott.

Yet there was something missing from the average liner note reading. Most often I dreaded reading liner notes for there were the same writers on rotation. I called it the Bob Blumenthal Syndrome school of notes. Patronizingly dull, mundane, almost pedestrian. The kind of writing that was basic ABC recognizable standard fare. Writing that catered to ‘new’ jazz listening. I recognized that most liner were either 1.biographical – recounting the bio background of said artist. or 2. Musically Detailed – . Which prompts the whole issue of ‘liner note’ writing as genre (which some awards committees deem an award-able category of recognition).

An incident with the producer (Blue Note) of Javon Jackson was most trying. Prior I had the honor of penning liners for Jackson’s first recording as a leader on Criss Cross (which most jazz fans would consider a major international label). Jackson asked me to write some liners for his second release, a debut on the heralded Blue Note label. Dutifully submitting the notes the producer phoned me wanting to discuss the notes in detail. After going over the notes she told me, in a matter of fact way that my writing was way too, “Amiri Baraka-ish” and the language, “too hip”! Needless to say I was floored when she said that she couldn’t use them due to deadline constraints, blah, blah, blah.

My mind was in a tizzy. How can liners be “too hip”? At worst sounding too, “Amiri Baraka-ish” was a flag waving signal. Yet I was at a loss. Javon Jackson, whom I considered a close friend apologized and I understood his position. He was powerless under the might of corporate Blue Note. I did not blame him. I blamed the Bob Blumenthal syndrome. I got similar remarks from the producer of the Stephen Scott disc as well however they (Verve) went with them.

The first [Chicago artist] to offer assignments was Malachi Thompson, for whom I wrote for his first domestic debut for Delmark (a great Chicago indie). However, because of a remark I made in an article about a beloved ‘white’ DJ Dick Buckley, label owner Bob Koester considered me an outcast – even to the extent of unofficially banning me from the Jazz Record Mart (which he owned. We’ve since patched up the rift and moved on. He is also the owner of Delmark and has offered me liner assignments).

Herein lies the situation for Black musicians and artists. Who owns the labels from which they are afforded the opportunity to record? The Black Jazz label of the early 70s sought to rectify or balance the artistic outlets available. As did countless other independent efforts Black Jazz died. Economics, media exposure, ad nauseam. Yusef Lateef’s own YAL label is perhaps the only self produced ‘black’ owned and operated label, outlasting all others in the past two decades.

End of Part 1: Stay tuned for Part 2

The following interview was originally published by JJA News, the online publication of the Jazz Journalists Association, available at www.JJANews.org.

Throughout our series of extensive conversations with black music writers “Ain’t But a Few of Us,” I’ve been asked a question growing in persistence: when are YOU going to submit to those questions? David Adler, editor of the JJA News, recently asked that question and assigned one of the past contributors to the series — young DC-area based writer Bridget Arnwine, a past JJA Clarence Atkins Fellow — to pose the Ain’t But a Few of Us inquiry, and here ’tis repeated with permission from JJA News. (Note: Clarence Atkins was a Harlem-based jazz writer and raconteur who was mentor to a number black jazz writers. He passed on to ancestry in ’04.)


Willard Jenkins (left) with the #1 Jazzman in Congress, the honorable John Conyers, at the recent Jazz Education Network conference in New Orleans. (Photo: Bill Brower)

“Ain’t But a Few of Us”: Willard Jenkins answers his own questions to black jazz writers
Willard Jenkins is a journalist, arts consultant and presenter, co-author of African Rhythms: The Autobiography of Randy Weston, and a JJA activist from the organization’s very beginning. As keeper of the blog The Independent Ear, Jenkins has instituted a series called “Ain’t But a Few of Us,” in which he poses questions to an array of African-American jazz journalists. The goal is to shed light on an important matter: Why are there so few black media commentators on jazz?
JJA News asked our own Bridget Arnwine, a 2005 JJA Clarence Atkins Fellow based in Rockville, Maryland, to turn the tables and solicit answers to the same questions from Jenkins himself.
Bridget Arnwine: What motivated you to write about serious music?

Willard Jenkins: Well, when I was in college at Kent State University, I knew that I had an ability to write and I had a love of music. It just made sense to me to try and combine the two, so I started writing for the black student newspaper, which was called The Black Watch. And then when I graduated I got an opportunity through my father’s connection to write for the Plain Dealer and it just went from there.

BA: When you first began writing about music were you aware of the dearth of African-Americans writing about serious music?

WJ: It didn’t take long to realize that. We’re talking about the early to mid ’70s, and at that point the music was dominated by African-American musicians. I noticed whenever I did read the jazz magazines that there were few if any black writers covering the music.

BA: Why do you suppose that’s still such a glaring disparity — where you have a significant number of black musicians making serious music but so few black media commentators on the music?

WJ: That’s a complex question. On the one hand you could ask, “Hmm, have the doors not been wide open to black people writing about this music? Have we not been encouraged to write about this music? Is that it?” When you read through the various responses to that question from the series, you find different experiences. You find people talking about how they felt discouraged from writing about it and perhaps that discouragement was a result of who they were. But, on the other hand, you look at the fact that the black audience for this music is not large. So there are a lot of black folks missing the boat on this music, even as far as being listeners. Naturally that’s going to trickle down to the number of writers as well.

I do like to pose that question to other writers to see what their experience has been, and yes, we have found some discriminatory practices as far as our pursuing this music. We have found some peculiarities as black writers covering this music. You know, for example, there are some of us who’ve experienced an interesting backlash from white writers. I don’t know if maybe there’s a sense that because so many important contributors to this music have been and still are black that there’s some sense that maybe we might get closer to the source than they can or whatever. I don’t know if maybe that’s an issue with some people. I don’t know, but overall I don’t think it’s a matter of black writers being barred from writing about this music. I just think, bottom line, there haven’t been enough black people curious enough about this music to write about it.

BA: So, do you feel that mainstream publications have been good vehicles for African-American jazz writers? Do you think mainstream publications have been indifferent toward African-American jazz writers?

WJ: That’s a complex question as well. I don’t necessarily see that in 2011. I respect the people who run the mainstream jazz publications, and I’m friendly with most of them. I don’t see where there have been any openly discriminatory policies aimed at discouraging black writers. Again, I just think that we don’t have enough black writers who are interested in pursuing this music to a serious extent. On the other hand, I don’t think that those publications have done enough to encourage or even nurture black participation.

Actually, let me ask you. Do you think there have been barriers towards your pursuits with publications, because of who you are? I mean, they might not even know. Your name doesn’t give anyone a sense of who you are. But do you think that [discrimination] exists?

BA: I think I used to, when I first started. My first experience in joining the Jazz Journalists Association was as a Clarence Atkins Fellow. It was the first time I thought about pursuing writing, so I was proud to be part of a group associated with Clarence Atkins and the JJA. At the same time, I felt that experience separated me from the group a bit. Whenever I introduced myself to other members, I was “the Clarence Atkins Fellow” — it made me question how I was being perceived. Even today I don’t know how to feel when I try to solicit publications and they aren’t responsive to me. I don’t know what to think.

WJ: Yeah, because you don’t know how many others who may not be black have had a similar experience.

BA: Right, so I don’t necessarily want to say that it’s because I’m black or because I’m a woman, but I have noticed that I’ve not always been received well whenever I’ve reached out to publications and I don’t know how to feel about that.

WJ: You just have to keep pitching and find the right button to push.

BA: What’s your sense of the indifference of so many African-American-oriented publications toward serious black music?

WJ: Well, I think that the people who’ve responded to that question in this series have pretty much nailed it. It’s a matter of economics. It’s a matter of our African-American publications not being able to see the forest for the trees.

In other words, it’s a matter of [African-American publications] not feeling a need to cover a high art form, because there’s a sense that the high art form will not yield the necessary dollars to keep their pages open. And so it becomes, “Let’s pursue pop music because there’s a broader interest in that,” as opposed to African-American publications feeling an obligation to cover a music that is such an important part of the higher artistic pursuit of African-Americans in this country. They would rather go after the almighty dollar and what they perceive — and I emphasize that word “perceive” — to be a more money-making prospect, and it’s a sad aspect I think.

BA: Since you’ve been covering serious music, have you ever found yourself questioning why some musicians may be elevated over others, and is it your sense that has anything to do with the lack of cultural diversity among writers covering the music?

WJ: There have been a number of occasions when I’ve felt that way. I don’t want to cite specific artists or anything, because I don’t want to slight anybody, but I have felt that way. I have felt that certain, I like to think of them as “flavors of the month,” have been elevated because of who they are and because of who’s writing about them. Certain people who I consider to be very green are elevated as though, “Wow, they’re doing such great things.” I’m sorry, but I think, “What? Who’s this person and what have they done? They just got here.” So, yeah, I do think that that is very real.

BA: What inspired you to start your “Ain’t But a Few of Us” series?

WJ: All the things we’ve been saying for the last few minutes, because there ain’t but a few of us. We have an interesting story to tell about why there ain’t but a few of us and why we among those few decided to cover this music. It’s such a phenomenon seeing someone black writing about jazz. That’s ridiculous to me, but I just felt like I wanted to explore various points of view.

I know that as black folks writing about the music — even among black folks — we are somewhat different. I wanted to find out what peoples’ experiences were and whether aspects of race have colored their experiences, because race remains the 500-pound whatever in the room. Some people don’t want to deal with it, and other people want to deal with it too much. I was just taking a survey.
I’ve had relationships with a lot of the young black writers, including the Clarence Atkins Fellows, and including being kind of a mentor to people like John Murph, Eugene Holley and others who have written about the music. I’ve been very proud to see things that people I have been in touch with in some way are doing. I’m proud when I see your byline and your writing and that of your peers and the other Atkins Fellows. I’m happy to see that you folks are still pursuing the music. I just wanted to see what folks had to say.

BA: Why is mentoring African-American jazz writers important to you?

WJ: Because of the historic nature of this music. I don’t want people to lose sight of the nature of this music and where this music came from and the fact that this music is a high art form and an indelible part of the African experience in America. Sometimes when black folks who are into the music are around each other and talking about the music, I’ve heard this sardonic kind of joke, “Yeah, you just watch. One hundred years from now Duke Ellington will be a white man.” We kind of laugh about that, but that’s kind of serious. I never want people to lose sight of where this music came from and who is responsible for giving birth to this music and giving rise to this music. I think part of the whole aspect of having African-Americans write about this music is to keep that flame alive. Whenever I meet someone like yourself who’s interested in pursuing the music, I do all that I can to encourage them.

BA: What have been some of your most rewarding encounters over the years?

WJ: Well, I’ll start with Randy Weston. And, you know, I’ve had the great pleasure of interviewing some real giants. I’ve had some wonderful experiences interviewing Jimmy and Percy Heath. I’ve had some great experiences like interviewing Miles Davis — that was a thrill. I loved Weather Report, and I had the opportunity to interview Joe Zawinul and Wayne Shorterr together. I had the opportunity to interview Joe Zawinul in Morocco. All these various experiences have been very enriching.

I also had an opportunity to build a stage for artists as a presenter. I’ve switched hats and I’ve had an opportunity to present many, many people. I think about presenting people like Woody Shaw and Betty Carter and all kinds of people. That really enriched my life.

BA: What obstacles have you encountered in your work with jazz?

WJ: Well, I think the biggest obstacle, obviously, is going to be the lack of the kind of audience that this music deserves. It’s always a struggle, and I’m wearing my presenting hat now, it’s always a struggle trying to push the right buttons and determine how to make it happen successfully where you bring artists in and you balance the need to pay them a living wage versus what the market can bear, versus how many people you can put in those seats. It’s always a juggling act to determine what’s the proper stage for a given artist.

And for those artists who are on the more creative edge, you struggle with balancing the need to compensate them properly with the fact that their audience is not large, but you try to find ways to create an audience for music that’s meaningful to you. So, in the case of presenting on the not-for-profit stages and festivals and that kind of thing, you try to find subsidies so you can bring artists who have no particular recognition within your community but who you think are worthwhile and who you think your community could benefit from hearing. You try and get that subsidized and present it for free, so that you don’t have the burden of selling tickets. It’s a constant juggling act.

BA: What have been the most intriguing records you’ve heard recently?

WJ: That’s always a hard question. Let’s see, I’ve enjoyed listening to two of the young ladies who were in the last Monk competition, Cécile McLorin Salvant and Charenée Wade. Randy Weston’s The Story Teller: Live at Dizzy’s record. I’ve also been enjoying the Trio 3 record with Geri Allen, Ahmad Jamal’s A Quiet Time as well as the Ahmad Jamal box set on Mosaic, and Chucho Valdés, Cassandra Wilson and Danilo Pérez’s new records.

(See the Songs That made the Phones Ring listing elsewhere in The Independent Ear for more personal faves from 2010.)

Several weeks ago at a Brooklyn book signing at the MoCADA gallery for native son Randy Weston and our new book African Rhythms (Composed by Randy Weston, Arranged by Willard Jenkins published by Duke University Press; see elsewhere in The Independent Ear) I had the pleasure of meeting author and thespian Karen Chilton.  Most recently she authored the Hazel Scott bio and prior to that co-authored Gloria Lynne’s memoirs with Ms. Lynne.  As we swapped stories about our book odysseys there was remarkable simpatico not only with our respective paths but also with Karen and the other contributors to our ongoing series of conversations with black music writers.  Her participation in this series was a no-brainer.

What’s been your experience writing about jazz and music in general?

Karen Chilton: Extraordinary.  I never set out to write books, much less books about jazz.  When I moved to New York City from my hometown Chicago eighteen years ago, my only intention was to be an actor, to perform in the theater and write for the stage.  My interests were purely in the dramatic arts — theater and film.  The only works I ever hoped to publish were my stage plays.  And while I’ve had the great fortune of doing all I’ve set out to do, my journey has been anything but predictable.  It’s been one surprising turn after the other.  I believe the first twist in the path came when I decided after studying classical piano from ages 5 to 17 at the Chicago Conservatory of Music to cast it all aside, and study Economics and Finance in college.  I still have no reasonable explanation for THAT decision, but I found solace in playwright Edward Albee’s famous quote: “Sometimes it’s necessary to go a long distance out of the way in order to come back a short distance correctly.”

For years I worked as a freelance writer to support my acting habit.  [Editor’s note: now there’s a twist on the usual writer’s path!]  Because I always loved music, especially jazz, I opted to do music reviews and features on musicians.  Eventually, I met a woman who chased me down in Barnes & Noble asking if I knew any women who wrote books about jazz.  I promptly told her I didn’t and pointed her in the direction of the Information Desk.  I think I even made some snide remark like: “Jazz books are written entirely by men, and most of them aren’t even American.”  She turned out to be Gloria Lynne’s publicist.  She gave me her card and asked me to call her if I knew anyone that might be interested in co-authoring Ms. Lynne’s memoir.

At the time I was working a temp job at a major record label that I believed was sure to send me straight to an asylum, so the very next day I called and suggested myself for the job.  I had about five years’ worth of feature articles on all kinds of musicians, from Youssou N’Dour to Jon Lucien to Seal to show as writing samples.  I was initially turned down by the literary agent having had no track record as an author, but six months later, I was called back and offered the gig.  Gloria Lynne chose me.  She liked my writing style and she wanted to tell her story to another Black woman.  That’s how it all began.

It was a baptism of fire.  The writing came easy.  It’s all storytelling to me.  Being an actor and writer are extensions of the same gift, the gift of telling a story well whether it’s on the page or on the stage.  And Gloria Lynne has a fascinating life story which made my creative work a pleasure trip.  The countless hours we spent together talking over her kitchen table were more fun than any two people ought to be allowed to have, but dealing with the rigors of actually getting the book published — the publisher, the agents, the editors, the production team, the publicists — it was quite overwhelming.  Gratification came later.  Much later…

Karen Chilton’s successful collaboration with the distinctively soulful song stylist Gloria Lynne.

Do you feel that being an African American woman posed any impediments particular or even peculiar to your pursuit of writing about black music?

YES.  Well first, for reasons beyond my comprehension, women are typically not expected to know much about music, especially not jazz.  It’s akin to a woman knowing a lot about sports (which I love as well); you’re treading on male-dominated territory.  You’re often treated like an interloper.  I’m speaking in generalizations of course, but those kinds of attitudes do exist.  So it becomes a question of your credibility.  It arises when trying to get interviews with musicians on the front end and trying to get publicity for your work in major music journals on the back end.  In the case of Hazel Scott, it was almost comical because at first editors would ask: Hazel Scott?  Who is SHE?”  Then they’d look at me and say: “Who are YOU?”

While researching the Hazel Scott biography and simultaneously looking for a publisher — which took nearly five years, one editor — a woman — at a very prestigious house seriously questioned my ability to write about the subject.  She suggested that somehow because I was a Black woman, I wasn’t capable of writing about another Black woman.  Absurd, I know.  So what do you do?  Say exactly what’s on your mind and burn that bridge down to a crisp right then and there, or smile politely and leave?  I left.  When my then agent (who was Jewish) and I walked out of the building, I turned to her and said bluntly: “If you and I had switched places and YOU were the author and I was your agent, we might have had a better chance at a deal.”

I am of the opinion that American publishers are exceedingly comfortable with books about African Americans — our culture, our art, our music, our history — being written by non-Black writers.  It’s as if the Black American experience is open to any and all purveyors; everyone gets to have their say about us, unless it is US… well, then watch out!  I can’t think of another group of people in this country whose culture has been co-opted with such regularity; we are constantly being dissected, examined, explained…  It’s so commonplace that being a Black writer documenting the experience of your own people is almost exotic, something new, requiring a different set of rules, a new set of expectations.  To complicate matters further, bias exists within our community as well.  On the flipside, an African American editor — a woman — responded to my [Hazel Scott] book proposal by saying: “This would be a great book IF it was written by someone else.”  Someone else like who?!  So I’ve caught it from both ends.  It’s all very curious.  Now, judging from the number of books being published today by Black writers what I am saying may sound ridiculous to some, but I’m not talking about the final outcome, the ultimate output (or the quality of the output), but about the sheer madness that many Black authors encounter on their quest to find a publisher.  It’s the part of the story that no one gets to read.

Ms. Chilton did indeed persevere and realize her Hazel Scott bio

In writing books on Gloria Lynne and Hazel Scott, did the fact of who you are pose any particular challenges in your quests at getting at the essence of these two great and underappreciated artists?

Fortunately, I felt very much at home writing both books.  By virtue of my own life experience and my being a performer, I intrinsically understood the demands and challenges of their careers.  However, as a biographer, you’re obsessed with the idea of “getting it right.”  It can be an overwhelming thing holding someone’s ‘life’ in your hands as it were, and crafting a narrative that is a truthful reflection.  With Gloria Lynne, of course, I had her there with me if I ever needed more clarity.  It was just a matter of picking up the phone.  With Hazel Scott, it was much more daunting.  There were so few people around to talk to who knew her intimately.  Her running buddies were Dizzy Gillespie and his wife Lorraine, Duke Ellington, Billie Holiday, Lester Young, Mary Lou Williams, Lena Horne…  Luckily, her son Adam Powell lll, was extremely generous, sharing his mother’s memorabilia with me, including her personal journal writings which were the beginnings of the memoir she was working on before her death in 1981.  I also had the pleasure of interviewing people like Mike Wallace (CBS 60 Minutes) who was a lifelong friend of Hazel and her ex-husband Adam Clayton Powell, Jr.; jazz pianist Marian McPartland, Matthew Kennedy (former director of the Fisk Jubilee Singers), Murray Horwitz (co-creator of Ain’t Misbehavin’) among others.

Still, getting interviews and/or gaining the trust of interviewees was probably my most challenging and time-consuming task.  Because I am not affiliated with an academic institution or a major newspaper or magazine, my requests for interviews were declined often, if not ignored completely.  I had to do some extra talking/convincing/cajoling in order to gain access to information.  I certainly couldn’t say I’m an actor who happens to write jazz biographies on the side (I made that mistake once and I’m still waiting for that musician to return my call!).  It was one of my greatest disappointments with the project.  I felt that Hazel Scott deserved better.  If they couldn’t submit to even a 5 or 10 minute conversation for my benefit, surely they could have done it for her.

Why do you suppose the efforts of Black writers chronicling jazz and jazz artists is different from the similar pursuits of others?

I wish I had a coherent answer to this question; something that actually made some sense.  I have several theories, some that I’ve tossed around with other Black writers who write about jazz, but I’ve yet to come to a conclusion that I can feel good about.  Is there a general fear or distrust of writers, a concern of being misrepresented, misquoted, misunderstood?  Of course there are some truly great Black writers who continue to do great work on the subject.  That does not discount the fact, however, that the gathering of research which includes interviews with prominent jazz artists, is not a constant challenge to obtain.  Even among writers, there can be a reluctance to share information.  I don’t know the answer, I wish I did.  The only thing I know for sure is that being Black and being a woman and writing about jazz can cause some real upset.

Any closing thoughts?

It’s an amazing thing being a writer — a gift, a joy, and a blessing.  Spending time documenting the music and the artists that you admire ain’t nothing but love.  And in the end, it’s all about love, isn’t it?  It’s the thing that enables us to bear the brunt of ignorance, arrogance, envy, and apathy that often come with the territory.  Jazz remains the greatest music in the land.  Because the contributions of many of its artists are so gravely overlooked and under-documented it makes completing a work on one of its legends always feel like a victory.  And even if your book lands on the dusty bottom of a bookstore shelf, off in the corner in the back next to the outermost window under the single column dedicated to “Music,” you can always count on that precious handful of people who will seek it out, find it, and love it.  And for them, and for the children, and for the ancestors, we go forth…

Karen Chilton with Randy Weston and The Independent Ear at our MoCADA book signing in Brooklyn for African Rhythms.