Trombonist Aaron J. Johnson teaches at the University of Pittsburgh, where he serves as Associate Professor and Chair of the Department of Music, positions once occupied at Pitt by the late, great Geri Allen. who succeeded the great Nathan Davis.

Aaron Johnson’s 2024 book is the extremely valuable and informative volume Jazz Radio America (University of Illinois Press). Being someone experienced in and always keenly interested in the evolution of jazz music on the radio, I have to say I devoured Jazz Radio America. As I read the book, clearly some Independent Ear questions were in order for author Aaron J. Johnson. You can learn more about Aaron J. Johnson here: https://www.music.pitt.edu/people/aaron-johnson

1) What was your original motivation for writing Jazz Radio America?

I’m pretty sure it was my love of radio. Radio was such a vital and shared experience in my 60s’ and 70s’ youth. And the 60s and 70s were a period where we were blessed with such explosive musical content. And the black radio developments which were so fueled by the civil rights and black power movements also had the magnificent content of the music of that time.  And I got to be a part of radio. I was very blessed as a kid to be good in both music and in math and science. My family (read, me) was given an old piano and that got me started in music. I went to Bunker Hill elementary in NE DC (Michigan Park) and wanted to play drums. My grade school teacher was Hershel McGinnis and years later I found out from Charles Tolliver that McGinnis was considered DC’s Eric Dolphy! (I have been able to track down one recording he made in Europe with someone.)

The point is I was in music deep in school and the DC Youth Orchestra program and in neighborhood funk bands, but I was also a math and science nerd — double majored in Pre-engineering and Music at McKinley Tech. So radio was fascinating to me both in its programming and its technology. 

This book had its beginnings as a research topic while I was a PhD student at Columbia University, because it occurred to me that little had been written about jazz and radio’s mutual impact on each other, and most that had been written concentrated on the network radio era between the world wars.

I really wanted to capture the big picture about jazz on the radio. To make the project more manageable I just started with post-war radio–radio mostly about playing records and about DJs. Maybe one day I will go back a take a swing (no pun intended) at the network era. Capturing the big picture is hard. Could I write about all the important jazz DJs and not leave people out?  In the end, I didn’t write that kind of book, though that kind of book would be great to have.  (I used to love books like that. Through my big brother I had copies of the NBA Register which had every active player’s bio and stats and also every all-time great’s bio and stats. These kind of reference books are so useful for research, so I hope someone writes an encyclopedia of jazz DJs.)

It seemed like there were big themes that played in most markets in both the life of jazz on commercial radio and on noncomercial radio. I wanted to understand what forces played a role in determining content–why some music gets played and some doesen’t.  And I wanted to explore what role race played in how radio was owned, programmed, and listened to.  And I suppose along the way, I wanted readers to understand the differences between radio stations like WPFW, the old WDCU, WAMU, WRFG, WCLK, and WKCR to name a few types.

2) Talk about your research process for preparing this book.

It was daunting. Because there are thousands of radio stations and maybe a thousand that played a part in jazz radio at one time or another. Sadly, very few airchecks. Fortunately, lots of survivors like Rusty Hassan and, at the time I was writing, Dick LaPalm. And as radio was once a big thing, lots of news and trade publication coverage of developments on radio and in music marketing. My strengths as a researcher are in archival research–I love plunging in to documents, recordings, IRS filings, bylaws, websites. I need to get better at interviewing.  Fortunately other people are good at it and an archival researcher like me can find those interviews in various collections and scour through the 30- or 60- minute interview for the 1:27 seconds they say something relevant about jazz.

What was really hard to find was direct interaction evidence between the record company people that needed radio for promotion and the radio people who needed music product for programming. That was the interaction I was most interested in and I did find some folks at labels like Pi and Firehouse that release adventurous music–they illustrated the willingness of college radio (like WKCR or WRCT) and community radio like WPFW or WRFG to play Tyshawn Sorey or Steve Lehman. And I did have Dick LaPalm to talk about record promotion in the commercial era.

When researching the noncommericial era, I am fortunate in that the doings of the CPB and NPR get limited but useful news coverage and the consultant/professional research structure published a lot of documents. Lots of smoking guns about why jazz has been suffering on noncommercial radio.

3) What is your own experience broadcasting jazz on the radio, and how did that experience motivate this book project?

While looking for a concert by brass players from the National Symphony on the old Columbia Union College (now Washington Adventist University) campus, I stumbled upon their radio station WGTS-FM. They let me in and I started working there as a board op. in high school–a good mashup of my love for music and technology. I also did college radio with a 12-3am jazz show at Carnegie Mellon’s WRCT when I was a student there. I was also the station’s chief operator as I had a 2nd class FCC license.  But I never returned to radio when I finished college. I was busy enough as an apprentice jazz musician (trombone), full-time electrical engineer, and husband.  Although I enjoyed it, I never really missed it.

It certainly informed the project as I had insights on how stations operated, how DJs worked or wanted to work, and how the regulation and ownership play a big part in how rafio works

4) With all of the knowledge and research material you gathered for this book, how has this book writing process colored or in any way changed your perception of good jazz radio broadcasting?

Well, certainly more respect for the programmer/DJs who have managed to hang on through all the obstacles and institutional roadblocks. It makes me think about the disconnect between support for jazz as a cultural asset as in HR57 and the desire of some stations to increase listnership or membership or underwritting.

And the unique challenge jazz programmer/DJs have in screening, selecting, and playing new releases to support current artists and still play the all time great music that there is so much of.  I don’t think any format in commercial broadcasting gives over so much space to “oldies.”

5) As you went about investigating the various stations and jazz radio movements you’ve documented, what were some of the most surprising elements you encountered?

Well, at first I was surprised by how much jazz was on AM radio even in the 1960s. No matter what the format, that’s not really true, the jazz DJ shows tended to be on white MOR radio stations like KDKA in Pittsburgh, KMOX in St. Louis or WOR in NYC, usually overnight or around midnight or Saturday morning and there were jazz shows on Black or black-appeal (but white-owned) radio in a similar way, but also, perhaps a dose of jazz records right after the morning shows.  One of the things I worked on earliest was the chapter on the attempt to have all-jazz commercial radio station.  They pretty much all failed as a result of failing to get advertising. And certainly, racism played a part there 1) in refusing to believe the black middle class listeners existed and 2) in rejecting the notion that jazz listeners were people with sophisticated buying tastes–something that allowed a classical station to exist in almost every market. 

I am not sure I did a good job with the underlying message in that chapter, which was, the collaborative “partnership” of all-jazz commercial radio stations and the jazz music industry (record companies and the clubs that had jazz ads) was more open to diverse jazz styles than the succesors in noncommercial radio–particularly on public radio.  My idea is that record companies and the WRVRs of the world looked as fusion and jazz with electric instruments and jazz-funk and jazz-soul and of course soul-jazz as paths to making jazz make money.   Of course they didn’t care about Air or Art Ensemble or Muhal, but they did give RTF and Billy Cobham’s funk records a chance. You never hear music like that on public radio jazz programs today, everything is in the narrow range of post-bop styles.  And my reason is that unlike the unholy collaboration of radio station owners and management with record companies, in public radio, jazz is safely in the hands of jazz experts who never like electric Miles.

6) In your experience writing this book, what jazz radio station(s) or program(s) best exemplified your own sense of the jazz broadcasting responsibility?

Haha! Is the deep dives, marathons, memorial broadcasts, and jazz birthdays of WKCR responsible?  That kind of thing works best in college (run by students and volunteers) radio. I think community radio does a great job with jazz. WPFW is a hybrid due to its Pacifica ownership but at times it is my favorite place to listen to jazz today. I dig WRFG. Community radio is not afraid to place jazz in conversation with other black music styles, willing to play advenurous stuff. Also some stations with independent foundations or boards play music that I am happy to stream. Places like WDNA and KSDS. And HBCUs have a different set of imperatives. For most of the jazz world smooth jazz is a dirty word. Smooth jazz is dismissed as instrumental R&B (I am one of those people–but — I like R& B). But HBCU radio sometimes acts like community radio, sometimes like public radio, sometimes like college radio. One key thing is that HBCU stations often feel the need to serve the entire black community and older folks like smooth jazz as do young guys who think it is jazz. But there are some good efforts to spread the word about jazz on HBCUs.

AJ Johnson, PhD
Associate Professor of Music

Chair, Department of Music

University of Pittsburgh

Musicologist, Musician, Electrical Engineer

Jazz Radio America (December 2024, University of Illinois Press) www.aaronjjohnson.com

Earlier this year during the Jazz Congress when Terri Lyne Carrington performed the music from her superb “re-imagining” of the Max Roach/Abbey Lincoln 1960 classic “We Insist: The Freedom Now Suite” – which has subsequently been released by the revived Candid Records (same label as the original 1960 release), co-led by the fine young vocalist Christie Dashiell. Clearly this new iteration, “We Insist! 2025”, is a recording that will most assuredly receive Album of the Year consideration, one of the players who made that club performance absolutely ‘pop’ was the young trumpet and flugelhorn player Milena Casado. Her own debut recording, “Reflection of Another Self” is also brand new on Candid, and produced by Ms. Carrington. Clearly some Independent Ear questions were in order for this deeply promising young horn player…

Talk about your origin story in Spain and how you came to make music?
“I was born and raised in Spain, in a small village called Orillena. Growing up, we moved
around different villages because of my mother’s teaching job. At one point, we moved
to a village called Castejón de Sos, which had a music school. I originally wanted to
play drums, but the class was full, so I tried the trumpet since some of my friends were
playing it. Through the trumpet, I found a way to express feelings and emotions I hadn’t
been able to until then. I needed it.”

What initially brought you to the U.S.?
“After some mentors in Spain encouraged me to go study music in the U.S., I decided to
apply to Berklee College of Music in Boston, and I was fortunate to receive a full
scholarship to pursue my bachelor’s degree.”

If I’m not mistaken, you were part of the original cohort of students in Terri
Lyne Carrington’s Jazz & Gender Justice program. Why did you select that
program, and please talk about the early days of that program and how
you’ve witnessed it evolve.
“That’s right! Being part of JGJ and seeing how it has grown and evolved has been
amazing. This program is so important and necessary. It creates a space that welcomes
everyone – a safe space for experimentation and dialogue, an inclusive and accepting
environment, changing the narrative.”

What’s it been like as a young musician coming under the mentorship of
someone as deeply accomplished as Terri Lyne?
“I admire Terri so much, and I feel incredibly fortunate to know her and learn from her.
She is a reference for me, and her guidance and support have helped me push
boundaries both musically and personally. She is so inspiring, and I am deeply grateful
to know her.”

Talk about your new record, “Reflection of Another Self” and how you came
up with the music you recorded.
“Reflection of Another Self” is a journey through identity, transformation, and healing. It’s
about seeing parts of yourself that maybe you hadn’t fully faced before. Sometimes, we
realize we are a version of ourselves that doesn’t represent us – shaped by fear,
expectations, and insecurities. That version becomes “another self,” and what we see in
the mirror isn’t the full picture. This album is about recognizing that, reflecting on it, and
finding a way back to oneself.
Creating this album was also the beginning of my exploration with electronics and
synths – I learned Ableton and Pro Tools, experimented with recording and mixing, and
embraced new textures and sounds. Each track flows into the next, like a suite, telling a
story about acceptance, understanding, overcoming… I was fortunate to create this
album with some of my favorite musicians, mentors, and friends who inspire me deeply.”

I have to ask you, what is the story behind your tune “This Is My Hair”?
“THIS IS MY HAIR (!)” reflects on identity and self-expression. Growing up in a small
village in Spain, I rarely saw people that looked like me, with afro hair, and I felt it.
People would stare, make comments, and even laugh. I just wanted to go unnoticed, to
hide.
But that has changed – THIS IS ME! I want to embrace every part of myself. My
experience with “hair” is just one example of something that caused me trauma, and we
all experience traumas in different ways. Learning to accept and love myself also means
showing compassion to those who once made me feel insecure – understanding,
learning, and moving forward. It’s personal yet universal.”

Talk about your experience recording “We Insist” with Terri Lyne.
“Being part of such an important and necessary project was an honor. Terri’s vision and
dedication are so inspiring. I’m grateful to be part of it, to honor Max Roach and Abbey
Lincoln, and to share this message. We need this project now, with all the injustices
happening in the world.”

What are you thinking about for your next album release?
“I’m excited to continue exploring and searching. The first thing I did the day of the album
release was to sit at my synth and start writing new music. I am excited about the first
explorations and ideas I’ve been developing. I want to create music that inspires people experimenting with sound, collaboration, and storytelling in new ways.”

Saxophonist-flutist-composer-bandleader-educator TK Blue (aka Talib Kibwe) has been a vibrant force in the music for several decades now. Likely he is most known for the decades he served as NEA Jazz Master Randy Weston‘s music director. During that period, TK became one of my closest confidants on all things Randy as the grandmaster and I worked feverishly on his autobiography, African Rhythms (pub. 2010 Duke University Press).

As with any of us who connected with Randy Weston, our immersion included Africa and his ongoing search for the African essence in the music. Throughout his many years in the company of Randy Weston, TK Blue’s African sensibility grew by leaps and bounds. Subsequent years have found him traveling the continent on his own search, including pursuing bandleading performance and touring opportunities for his bands in the Motherland. He has also since vowed to investigate at least part-time residence opportunities in Africa. Clearly some questions were in order for this restless explorer…

Talk about your most memorable experiences performing in Africa and what made them special?

It’s quite challenging to cite a “most memorable” experience as all of my trips in Africa were immensely enlightening and profoundly spiritual. Each country has unique cultural “gems” to offer and their particular take on language, food, and music! My first trip to Africa was in 1979 and my most recent excursion was in April 2024. If hard pressed I would say traveling to the interior of Sierra Leone by boat and visiting Tasso Island during my USIA State Department Tour of West Africa 1990 was an outstanding experience.

What have been some of your most rewarding experiences collaborating with African musicians on the continent?

I noticed quite early in my collaborations with musicians from the African continent that we are joined at the hip!!! While spreading her wings throughout the African diaspora, Mother Africa carried remnants of its musical structure and significance. These seeds took roots in the new world and have influenced the connections among people of color. I am a strong believer that Jazz musicians have access to the portal which allows a beautiful symmetry with an in-depth link to the music of many cultures, especially the traditional music of Africa! Case in point on my trip to Tasso Island we were greeted by an ensemble of horn players, with some [instruments] resembling the muffler on a car! I took out my soprano saxophone and we hit immediately!! The Chief of this particular clan was so elated he performed a “blessing” ceremony to protect my entourage on our journey and he asked the Ancestors to bring us back to Africa, our homeland!!

What differences did you find in the audiences in the various regions of Africa you’ve had the privilege of visiting and performing – North, South, East, West?

The audiences varied but for the most part the differences were not because of any particular country, but urban versus “the bush”. Performing in the major cities/capitals, you played for a variety of people with many being expatriates of European countries. Performing in the countryside for the local residents is where you truly feel the heartbeat of Africa! However both experiences are very rewarding and I found keeping the music flowing rhythmically always reached the audiences and fostered a dynamic relationship with everyone dancing and moving to the rhythm!

Where in particular did you find audiences most responsive to the expression of what we call jazz, and why do you suppose that response was particularly memorable?

Performing in the major cities can allow you to “stretch” experiment and take more liberties. I remember a particular concert in Ouagadougou the capital of Burkina Faso. We kept the music vibrant via swing, funk, bossa nova, 6/8 African feel, Afro-Cuban, Calypso, etc….The folks were dancing in the aisles fervently!! After the show a brother came to see us and mentioned he was disappointed because we did not play anything free or avant garde! I asked if he saw all the folks dancing and having a great time! As an artist I feel it’s best to play for the audience and not for the particular taste of one individual! Overall the major cities will have more of a jazz audience! 

As an experienced, veteran musician – as well as someone who has taught and mentored younger musicians – what advice would you offer to succeeding generations of musicians dreaming of, planning to, embarking on performances of their music for African audiences?

Yes!!! Go for it and you will be rewarded with the experience of a lifetime! Travel with only love and forgiveness in your heart! Walk with humility and open arms! Try as much as possible to leave behind your own cultural mores from the west and enter the Motherland with a clean state of consciousness. Listening is a huge asset and will allow you to collaborate with traditional musicians. Be prepared to help as much as possible and share your knowledge with aspiring young musicians from the continent. Keep altruism close and experience the spirit of our ancestors! Pay attention to the subtleties in traditional African music and know that every sound, every note, has a place in the structure of traditional societies which add to the foundation of the African aesthetic!! 

 

Trumpeter Mark Morganelli is one of those musicians who took the bold step of peering beyond his own performing career arc to present the music he loved for audiences. I can fondly recall visiting his former Jazz Forum space on Broadway, one of the so-called “loft” spaces that proved to be so vital for live jazz presentation in the 70s and 80s, and flopping down on one of his couches to catch a performance. Now celebrating 40 years of his Jazz Forum Arts presenting organization, I recently posed some questions to this intrepid fellow jazz presenter…

1. Talk about your evolution from musician to presenter and what compelled you to establish stages to present jazz.

In 1975 I lived at the Creative Arts House on the campus of Bucknell University, Lewisburg, Pennsylvanie during my sophomore and junior years at school.  Having recently switched from being a Chemistry Major to a Music Education degree, I began presenting “Coffeehouses,” as we called them, featuring several musical genres performed “live”in our (not so) elegant basement space. These presentations were often accompanied by an art exhibit and sometimes a poetry reading. Hey – you gotta start somewhere!. After performing on the road for the first year out of Bucknell, I moved into New York City, performing in various clubs and other venues. I soon moved out of my small, though centrally located, Greenwich Village apartment into a much more spacious loft in the East Village. The third floor space at 50 Cooper Square was fabulous to rehearse my big band in 1978 and ’79, and then I thought I’d feature other deserving, talented emerging and established artists starting in June, 1979 – hence, the first Jazz Forum performance space was born.

2. What was your experience presenting (and playing) performances at your former Jazz Forum “loft” space on Broadway, and what did you learn from that experience?

After a year and a half at 50 Cooper Square, my landlord, Leonard Stern informed me and all the other tenants that he would not be renewing leases. He actually bought the Village Voice newspaper and moved their offices to what had been our building. So, after a legal settlement, I took some meager funds, borrowed more and expanded operations to a 5,000 square-foot fifth floor loft at 648 Broadway, near Bleecker Street. We didn’t miss one weekly jam session in the month-long transition, then opened a seven-night-a-week performance space. The first artists at the new loft included Bob Berg and the Tom Harrell Quintet featuring Al Foster, and Frank Foster’s Non-Electric Company big band. I also had an opportunity to perform at both lofts, culminating in my first “live” recording, September 5, 1982 as part of the first annual Greenwich Village Jazz Festival. That second loft featured performances by Barry Harris, who also taught at both Jazz Forum lofts for three years before he started his own Jazz Cultural Theatre. We also had many memorable nights, listening to Art Blakey, Jaki Byard, Charli Persip, Philly Joe Jones, with Wynton Marsalis sitting in, and “live” recordings there by Woody Shaw and Bobby Hutcherson, and Red Rodney and Ira Sullivan. It was May, 1981, just after opening, that I featured Tommy Flanagan and Barry Harris, performing on two Steinway grand pianos, with Dr. Art Davis, bass and Leroy Williams, drums. That concept still lives on, with contemporary performances by Bill Charlap and Renee Rosnes at our Jazz Forum, Tarrytown. every Winter.

3. What compelled you to start Jazz Forum Arts and how did you go about entering the broader world of jazz presenting beyond that Jazz Forum space?

Owing my landlord one month’s rent, I asked Art Blakey and Wynton Marsalis to lend me three month’s rent, but the landlord would not accept it, and summarily evicted me. I resurfaced the next night, presenting with Art D’Lugoff at his esteemed Village Gate. Later that year, 1983, I re-met Ellen prior at our tenth high school reunion in Glen Head, Long Island.  We hit it off, and I moved to her apartment on the Upper West Side. I attended a meeting of the Friends of Riverside Park, and asked Park Director Charles McKinney why he didn’t do jazz in Riverside Park. He responded, “Why don’t you do jazz in Riverside Park?!” That directly led me to form the not-for-profit arts presenting organization, Jazz Forum Arts to present the annual Riverside Park Arts Festival, an annual free summer concert series that lasted thirteen years from 1985-1997.

4. In your forty years of Jazz Forum Arts, what are some of the most valuable lessons you might share with those who may be contemplating presenting arts performances?

Performing and presenting are two different things, though obviously related. The most important thing, in my view, is to have a clear vision, a solid team, and most important, funding. I have spent many hours of the past forty years as a development professional, constantly raising money, establishing sponsor relationships and cultivating audiences. The only constant is change. Sponsors, patrons and supporters come and go, so you have to be extremely flexible and resilient in the face of perceived adversity. After 9/11, I say it’s only music. That said, I’ve devoted almost fifty years of my life to the high-level presentation of music, especially jazz. 

5. What will the next forty years of Jazz Forum Arts look like as you gaze into the future?

Jazz Forum Arts is now in better shape than ever. We have a great team, both organizationally, administratively, and with empathetic and supportive staff at the club and seasoned crew for our free outdoor summer concerts. We’ve also added major educational components to our programming, cultivating the audiences of the future – now! 

Sascha Feinstein, the editor of this series of exceptional conversations “with Critics and Biographers,” describes himself as an “amateur saxophonist”. However its decidedly on the literary front where he’s made his mark, including this latest volume. The Professor of English at Lycoming College in Williamsport, PA, is a prolific poet, essayist and editor with a true insiders feel for jazz and its innerworkings.

Sascha’s previous jazz-focused books include Ask Me Now: Conversations on jazz & literature; Jazz Poetry: From the 1920s to the Present; and A Bibliographic Guide to Jazz Poetry. In 1996 he founded Brilliant Corners: A Journal of Jazz & Literature, which is where our paths first crossed. A man after my own heart, he also hosts the radio program Jazz Standards, on WVIA, the NPR station for central Pennsylvania. As an honored conversant in Writing Jazz, the overall scope as well as the genesis of his series of inquiries was intriguing, so we asked Sascha Feinstein some Independent Ear questions.

Independent Ear: This is a fairly unique book, in terms of conveying the origins of these writer’s pursuits, and the inspirations/motivations and methodologies of those who write/have written about jazz. 
What was your overall mission with Writing Jazz and conducting this series of interviews?

Sascha Feinstein: As you know, I founded Brilliant Corners: A Journal of Jazz & Literature in 1996, and
every issue concludes with an interview. The first ten years of interviews were reprinted in the
book Ask Me Now: Conversations on Jazz & Literature. Ten years after that, I tried to publish a
companion volume, but it kept getting rejected because publishers weren’t interested in primary-
source materials (as inane as that may sound). So the interviews accumulated. Then I thought of
focusing exclusively on nonfiction prose—a cleaner package, if you will—and SUNY Press
snapped it up.

This focus naturally resulted in some fascinating comparisons. You and Bob Blumenthal,
for example, both write liners for rereleased recordings, but your approaches—at least in terms
of considering the original liners—are almost antithetical. A. B. Spellman was a significant
figure in and advocate for the Black Arts Movement of the 1960s; Stanley Crouch dismissed the
movement entirely. It was interesting to hear how Martin Williams was warmly referenced by so
many. In other words, I very much like how these writers are not only talking to me but, in this
context at least, seem to be talking to one another as well. The book includes an outstanding
index (which I did not compile) that can guide readers to some of the overlapping people and
issues.

IE: Among those writers you interviewed for Writing Jazz, you chose a varied lot – including
some otherwise identified as academics, archivists, poets, presenters, etc.  How did you
determine who to interview for this book?

SF: Some of the choices, no lie, had to do partly with geographic constraints. Prior to
COVID, I insisted on conducting the interviews in person, which meant, basically, meeting with
people on the East Coast. That said, I’ve only chosen authors whose work I admire. And, as you
point out, I’ve tried to broaden the discussions of jazz-related prose by engaging a range of
writers. I think that’s as important as embracing the range of jazz itself.
An aside: Some of the people interviewed in Ask Me Now should join the jam session of
Writing Jazz, especially Amiri Baraka, Gary Giddins, and Dan Morgenstern.
Generally speaking, I try to choose people whose work has been enormously important, if
not essential, to jazz-related literature. One cannot discuss the history of jazz criticism, for
example, without acknowledging the contributions by Whitney Balliett and Stanley Crouch.
Linda Dahl’s work on women and jazz was groundbreaking. Robin D.G. Kelley’s biography on
Monk may be the greatest jazz bio to date. Bob Blumenthal remains one of our most astute
writers of liner notes. Ricky Riccardi on Pops, John Hasse on Duke, you on Randy Weston,
Farah Griffin on Lady Day, Maxine Gordon on Dexter—one cannot have a discussion about the
literature on those jazz luminaries without including these writers. Mic drop.

IE: Some of the titles for each interview chapter are fairly self-explanatory; such as “Evidence”
for Thelonious Monk biographer Robin D.G. Kelley and “The Archival Mind” for Ricky
Riccardi, whereas others at first glance may be viewed as a bit more abstract: “Breaking Down
the Gates” for Linda Dahl, “But I Know What Time It Is Now” for Hettie Jones, or “If You Can’t
Do Better, Might as Well Just Stay Away” for the Hanging Judge, Stanley Crouch.  How did you
come up with those?

SF: I primarily write and teach poetry, so titles matter to me. I think they should be engaging.
“Evidence” worked nicely, I thought, because, yes, it’s a Monk tune but it also enhanced what
Robin insisted upon: meticulous research. And Ricky’s understanding of Pops is Rain Man-like
(the guys at Mosaic Records refer to him as Rickipedia) so “The Archival Mind” seemed
appropriate.

The other three? Well, Linda talked at length about getting past those who guard legacies,
for one reason or another. She called them Gate Keepers, so the chapter title essentially invoked
her imagery. The one for Hettie Jones is, of course, a lyric from the tune “I Didn’t Know What
Time It Was.” In her interview, she returned to various events where the timing just wasn’t right:
the culture’s reaction to her interracial marriage, a publisher’s inability to see the importance of
writing about interracial heritage, and so on. (In her words: “It’s a drag being ahead of your
time.”) But all that unpleasantness was now largely behind her, and she spoke with such
marvelous focus and confidence and humor. Thus: “But I Know What Time It Is Now.”
Stanley, no surprise, was the opposite of Hettie in terms of a welcoming demeanor. We
were to meet in a Manhattan bistro (not his apartment) and he kept me waiting—a long time. (He
eventually arrived with a sack of dirty laundry.) The vibe was clear: “I’m not concerned about
wasting your time, and you better not waste mine.” But he got into a groove pretty quickly, and
the overall feel of our conversation, it seemed to me, was one of challenge: If you’re in the arts,
you’d better have the goods. I mean, he was a verbal Sonny Liston, you know? But at the end of
our exchange, he inscribed my copy of Considering Genius with great warmth. I’ll treasure that.

IE: A few of those you interviewed have been consistent jazz publication contributors through
their career, while others have made their marks primarily as book authors.  How did you
determine to have such a diversity of interview contributors to this book?

SF: There have been various reasons and differing circumstances. Some people I’ve known
personally for years; others I sought out. In the case of Maxine Gordon, it was partly good
fortune: We were both speakers at the Satchmo Jazz Fest in New Orleans, and I found out that
we would be in neighboring towns that coming summer. Sometimes I’m trying to fill a gap. For
example, I had previously interviewed a number of people associated with the Black Arts
Movement—Baraka, Jayne Cortez, Haki Madhubuti, Sonia Sanchez, to name a few—so
interviewing A. B. Spellman was way overdue. He’s also someone whose writing deeply
educated me, especially regarding freer forms of jazz that were way beyond my teenage ears.
Jazz literature has been absolutely dominated by male voices, and I thought it was important to include Maxine, Farah, Hettie, and Laurie Pepper. I believe in diversity, provided that it’s
grounded in respect.

IE: Ultimately, as far as this book’s place in the overall jazz book bibliography, what impressions
did you hope to make on the readers of this book as far as the overall craft of Writing Jazz?
I treat all the interviews as working texts, which is to say, they’ve been heavily edited by
me and the author. I want fluid narratives, as well as formal breaks for cadences and
introspection. I eliminate repetitive material and aim to conclude each piece with something
resonant, in keeping with the final notes of an album. There is a lot of crafting in this book, but
never at the expense of the authors’ intentions.

Often, I eliminate my questions altogether so as not to be a distraction. This was
particularly important with the Whitney Balliett discussion. We were friends, and I’d admired his
interviews for decades. We met in his Manhattan apartment. I figured this would be a breeze. But
Whit just wouldn’t talk! I was getting all these monosyllabic answers . . . Man, I wasn’t prepared
for that, and I had to do a lot of “knitting.”
Conversely, you might consider my last interview with the poet Michael Harper (not in
this collection). In the first hour and forty-seven minutes, I asked exactly two questions—neither
of which he answered! (As a different poet said to me once: “I know I’m a windy Elder.”) Those
conversations require an entirely different set of editorial skills. But, again, the point is to make
these discussions readable, enjoyable, memorable. I want readers to feel as though they were in
the room, too.

IE: Were there any surprises or major revelations in your writer inquiries?
I was thoroughly surprised when Bob Blumenthal said he gave his ratings for The Rolling
Stone Jazz Record Guide by pulling albums from the shelf and giving the number of stars over
the phone. My eyes went wide when Maxine Gordon explained how Dex discovered how
Wardell Gray was murdered. Very tentatively, I referenced Art Pepper’s racism in Straight Life,
and Laurie jumped in: “Oh, definitely—Art was a racist.” (When the interview first appeared in
Brilliant Corners, several people wrote, “OMG! You went there, and she went there!”) I belly
laughed when Robin described Nellie Monk completely dissing Mary Lou Williams. Laughter
isn’t a revelation, necessarily, but it’s always a welcomed surprise.

It’s possible I haven’t been more surprised because I really do my best to research the
people I talk to: books, articles, interviews, you name it. I want to be ready for conversation to
turn in interesting directions. And, to speak very personally, it’s a delight when that legwork is
acknowledged. I’m thinking of Tom Piazza saying, “Wow—it’s odd that you know that,” or you,
Willard, saying, “I’m glad you picked that out.” It makes me feel as though I’ve done right by
the author.