CONTINENTAL DRIFT
50 years of jazz from Europe
July 2016 - Conference Proceedings
Edited by:
Haftor Medbøe
Edinburgh Napier University
Zack Moir
Edinburgh Napier University, and The University of the Highlands and Islands
Chris Atton
Edinburgh Napier University
Copyright retained by individual authors. c 2017
Published by Continental Drift Publishing
Edinburgh Napier University
Edinburgh
United Kingdom
ISBN: 978-1-78808-706-3
CONTENTS
Introduction
Haftor Medbøe
v
1
‘Young German Jazz’ and the Politics of Jazz Cosmopolitanism in
Germany
1
William Bares
2
The Role of the Festival Producer in the Development of Jazz in
Europe
17
Emma Webster
3
Cultural Factories and the Contemporary Production Line
Petter Frost Fadnes
4
Sampling the Past: The Role and Function of Vintage Music within
Electro Swing
47
Chris Inglis
5
50 Years of Academic Jazz in Central Europe: Musicological and
artistic research perspectives in a case study of local jazz history in
Graz
57
Michael Kahr
31
iii
iv
CONTENTS
6
Vocal Jazz Accent: some of my best friends are American
Renée Stefanie
67
7
‘Out of Nowhere?’: Pre-war Jazz Networks and The Making of Postwar Belgian Jazz
85
Matthias Heyman
INTRODUCTION
H AFTOR M EDBØE
Following popular exposure in France to the proto-jazz of James Reese Europe and his
369th “Harlem Hellfighters” Infantry Regiment during the latter years of WW1, the jazz
bug took hold and, in the period that followed, spread throughout Europe. This new music from the USA, drawing on the ethno-cultural melting pot of New Orleans, provided
a soundtrack to the new order that was forged following the two world wars. Its spread
marked the beginning of Europe’s complex relationship to jazz, a music associated variously with exoticism, vice, youth, cultural decay, liberation, US imperialism, civil rights,
nuclear disarmament, and intellectual elitism.
During the past century, the cultural status of jazz has gone from popular to specialist,
from entertainment to art, and in Europe, from an imported to an appropriated and repurposed music form. The initial eagerness by European musicians to emulate the American
founding fathers of jazz has over time given way to national and regional reinterpretations
of the genre. Examples of emergent European sensibilities in jazz creation and performance can be heard in the German free scene of the 1960s, and the “Nordic tone” associated with the ECM label in the 1970s. These departures from the genre’s American
narrative, traditionally so intrinsically intertwined in its understanding, have necessitated
the revisiting of the ontology of jazz in its post-globalisation context.
Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe took place in Edinburgh, Scotland on
the 16th and 17th of July, 2016. A co-production between Edinburgh Napier University
and the Edinburgh Jazz & Blues Festival, the conference was conceived to reflect the festival’s theme, a celebration of fifty years of European jazz. The notion of European jazz as
divergently distinct from the genre’s American conception constituted the basis for investigation through a series of panel sessions.
v
vi
INTRODUCTION
The conference welcomed eminent panellists and presenters from across Europe and
the United States drawn from academia, creative practice, and industry to interrogate and
unpack the origin story, development, and emerging practices of jazz from Europe. The
proceedings opened with ECM recording artist Marcin Wasilewski in interview with Haftor
Medbøe as an introduction to the four themed panel sessions respectively titled “People
and Histories”, “Places and Events”, Scenes and Networks”, and “Futures”. The chaired
sessions probed themes of provenance, authenticity, hybridity, and innovation as applied to
Europe’s contribution to the global jazz scene. Video and podcast legacies of these panel
sessions are available from the conference website: www.continentaldriftconference.co.uk
On each day the conference gave the floor to contributors on a variety of specialist topics. These took the form of 20X20 slide presentations and provided the basis for lively
audience discussions. The conference organisers subsequently invited contributors to expand on their presentations, and the resulting papers are collated in this publication.
1
‘YOUNG GERMAN JAZZ’ AND THE
POLITICS OF JAZZ COSMOPOLITANISM
IN GERMANY
William Bares
This paper concerns my work in the evolving young German jazz community — a group
that was the focus of my ethnomusicological inquiry during my years of concentrated fieldwork/participant observation in Germany from 2005-2008. Labeled “Young German Jazz”
or “The Next Generation” by the German record industry (marketing categories devised
by ACT and JazzThing/Double Moon records, respectively), this community of German
jazz musicians (roughly, aged 18-40) is marked less by aesthetic than by generational cohesion.1 As ACT’s young German guitar phenomenon Torsten Goods explained to me
in 2006, “Young German Jazz” was “less about a style of music, it’s about a group of
people... what this German generation is doing in our mid-20s to mid-30s.” The “Young
German Jazz” generation (YGJ, as I shall hereafter refer to it) was born into Cold War
culture and grew up in an optimistic spirit of integration that followed after the fall of the
Berlin Wall. As members of Europe’s Generation “E” (an affectionate or derisive term designating the cooperative-competitive European generation that matured under the sign of
the “Euro”), YGJ musicians understand that they have vital roles to play in reformulating
Germanness in an era of intensified and competitive European identity politics. As befits
this exciting and unfinished project, the ever-renewing and cosmopolitan city of Berlin has
figured prominently in this group’s self-conception.
1 For
more info see WDR 3’s account of the recent Jazz Prize awarded to ACT for this series:
https://web.archive.org/web/20131110225715/http://www.wdr3.de/musik/jazzbeiwdr3/jazzpreis116.html
Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe.
Continental Drift Publishing - Copyright Retained by Individual Authors c 2017
1
2
‘YOUNG GERMAN JAZZ’ AND THE POLITICS OF JAZZ COSMOPOLITANISM IN GERMANY
In an forthcoming book I argue that German jazz “discourse”––consisting of, among
other things, journalistic and scholarly texts, live and recorded performances and interviews, record, radio and television industry activities, and collusions between performance
venues, musicians’ organizations, and governmental as well as private institutions––responds
not only to a set of German domestic political concerns but also to the contemporary European Jazz “Culture Wars.” The concerns articulated at JazzAhead in Bremen each spring
serve as reminders of the close relationships between German jazz discourse and broader
commercial, national and international pressures. One net effect of this accelerated intraEuropean jazz commerce has been a marginalization of African American jazz perspectives, both aesthetically and actually, within Germany. Note, for, example, that in the first
five years of JazzAhead in Bremen, Maceo Parker and Wallace Roney were the only two
African American acts invited to perform. These were interesting choices; in the context
of JazzAhead, the choice of Parker, the quintessential funk musician and masterful entertainer, effectively placed African American Americans on the periphery of jazz; Roney’s
Miles Davis-influenced group, on the other hand, was there to showcase a more controversial African American claim to aesthetic centrality (and indeed this concert was not
particularly well received).
Events like JazzAhead inevitably draw YGJ musicians into the deeply politicized contemporary transatlantic debates over race, aesthetics and ownership in jazz (see Nicholson
2005). Oversimplified, these debates pit hegemonic, homogeneous and cultural-imperial
American jazz against counter-hegemonic, heterogeneous and culturally-cooperative European jazz. As the conventional wisdom has it, the Europeans currently possess more
appreciative audiences, creative energy, generous support structures and (in the eyes of the
many observers of the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq) moral authority. The Americans, on the
other hand, now depend on a more fickle European market to supplement America’s anemic support for its own “national music”––a music which, in the eyes of many, has grown
as stale and predictable as the American political economy. As much of my work was conducted during the presidency of George W. Bush, no image better captures the contentious
spirit of the new millennium’s transatlantic relations than figure 1.1.
Figure 1.1
Photo by author: Jan 2006
3
The photo was taken in a men’s bathroom stall (i.e. lavatory cubicle) at the B-Flat, a
jazz club in Berlin Mitte. The club is one of the city’s most popular meeting places for jazz
musicians of all persuasions, and remains a veritable laboratory for transatlantic jazz politics––especially on Wednesday nights, when it fills to capacity with students, older jazz aficionados and local and international jazz musicians who all come for the free-wheeling jam
session run by Canadian expatriate bassist and longtime Berlin resident Robin Draganic.
Responding to an anti-American rant that sparked a veritable wall’s worth of conversation
that unfolded in weekly installments, the “weary American traveler” wrote: “Greetings
Berliners, it’s okay to criticize America, but please be nice to Americans, we’re not as fat
and stupid as you may think. We did, after all, give the world jazz! Rockin’ in the free
world.” The composer of the subsequent thread wrote, “From Africa. Say thanks 2 Berliners and fuck you Americans, arrogant fuckers of the world.” Articulating the quintessential American cultural-diplomatic position, the “weary traveller” linked jazz freedom to
America’s historic role in promoting liberal democracy in Western Europe. Unimpressed,
the Berliner, writing from his own home turf, trashed the American’s ideas that America
“gave” the world jazz, and that jazz musicians still inhabit a world in which the imperialist
defenders of the so-called “free world” would be accorded any special hospitality in pacifistic Berlin. Indeed he went to extremes to deny jazz any American provenance––even
African American provenance––by claiming (quite erroneously) that jazz originated in
Africa, while suggesting that Americans owe Berliners a favor for having been at all receptive to American jazz over the years.
While the photo is notable for the acrimonious transatlantic debate it illustrates, it is
perhaps equally notable for what it leaves out. Absent from the covert shouting match is
any productive reckoning whatsoever of the contemporary relevance of African Americans
and African American musical aesthetics to the jazz idiom––on either the American or
the German side of the debate. While African American musicians continue to struggle
for both financial and artistic recognition within the United States (c.f., the largely ignored
and incalculable loss of jazz’s “human” archive in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina), they
now endure a similar process of cultural erasure in Europe, as their music comes increasingly to be identified with American unilateralism, rather than with the uniquely inclusive,
Afromodernist subalternity that once enjoyed a near-universal appeal throughout much of
the Cold War. If anti-Americanism in European jazz would appear to affect Americans indiscriminately, European processes of disengagement with America’s historical jazz narratives end up affecting African Americans disproportionately by burying their aesthetically
central contributions under separate-but-equal European ideologies and institutions.
My work has thus been primarily concerned with geopolitically-induced processes of
African American cultural erasure in jazz in Europe. In my forthcoming book, I ask the
question, how is it that jazz––once the very model of engaged musical and social nonconformity (an ethos emblematized perhaps above all in the popular slogan “Play Your
Own Thing,” to play on the title of a popular film by Julian Benedikt)––has come to be
hijacked, or perhaps overridden, in Europe, by politicized agendas that encourage a retreat
into ready-made national musical identities? Under what circumstances, and precisely
“how” has “Play your own thing” become “Play our thing” in European jazz? What are
the political stakes––in a Europe that still struggles with the problem of integrating massive numbers of immigrants into relatively ethnically homogeneous countries–––involved
in casting “our” thing as an “ethnic” and/or a “national” thing?
In order to illustrate the relevance of these questions to the contemporary German context, I will scrutinizing two songs––”Blue Eyed Soul” (2002) by Till Brönner and “Blaue
Augen” by Michael Schiefel and JazzIndeed (2005). Note that one of these was recorded
4
‘YOUNG GERMAN JAZZ’ AND THE POLITICS OF JAZZ COSMOPOLITANISM IN GERMANY
before the U.S. invasion of Iraq; the other came after the invasion, and was in a sense
a definitive moment for ACT’s overtly German-centric YGJ series. Taken together, the
recordings indicate a seismic shift in the use the blue-eyed trope to construct German jazz
identity. They also illustrate the problematics of the new roles adopted by commercial entities like ACT music, who have filled a void left by the lack of strong German governmental
support for jazz, in promulgating ideas of Germanness for a domestic and international listenership.
In order to present the differences between the two recordings more fully, I will suggest
at the outset that these two albums align provocatively with two distinct historical discourses of “the German” in music, as identified by the German musicologist Bernd Sponheuer in a well-regarded English-language essay on German musical nationalism. The first
type is the universalist, in which German music represents a confluence of cultures, and
in which German musicians are portrayed as expert in filtering the flood of information
pouring in from all over Europe and indeed the world. As opposed to the “marked” quality
of, French or Italian vocal musics, for example, German music––emblematized above all
by the non-linguistically bound ‘absolute music’ of Beethoven, subsumed these and alone
among the world’s musics was deemed able to bring the “fully human” to its fullest expression. The second type identified by Sponheuer is the exclusivist discourse, which relies on
a series of binary opposites to articulate difference through reference to the “specifically”
German in music: e.g., German depth versus French or Italian superficiality––or, in the
case of jazz, German non-swing versus African American swing, German experimentalism versus American predictability, German sober intellect versus American optimistic
naiveté, etc (Sponheuer 2002).
As a transatlantic observer of recent developments in the German jazz record industry,
I found it particularly fascinating that ACT music’s YGJ series seems to play on both ideal
types in order to distinguish Germanness in the field of jazz. A transposition of the universalist discourse can be found in the promotional material for Carsten Daerr and Daniel
Erdmann’s Berlin Calling (2007), which describes their music as “open in every conceivable direction, it conveys the feeling that it could have originated from any other part of
the world; and it is precisely this openness that expresses one of the decisive strengths of
jazz from Berlin” (Daerr and Erdmann, 2007). On the other hand, the liner notes to ACT’s
flagship album, Call it [em] (2005), draw upon the exclusivist discourse in describing the
group’s music as “...unsmooth, freakish and free [...] nervous energy, hyperactive, hectic
[...] A murky morbidity, just like in a flickering black and white film. Lola running, straight
through the metropolis” (Wollny et al, 2005).
Like Berlin Calling and Call it [em], Brönner’s Blue Eyed Soul and JazzIndeed’s Blaue
Augen can also be seen as representatives of the universalist and exclusivist ideals respectively. However, the addition of the blue-eyed trope––which is to say the layering
of German national musical identity with signifiers of German ethnicity––makes the latter
two albums far more interesting from a transatlantic perspective. Here German national
jazz identity becomes entwined with discourses of race and the explosive political issue
of cultural erasure of African American musical contributions to jazz, which I have just
described. Equally interesting are the differences between the two albums. If Brönner’s
2002 production used the blue-eyed trope to signify perspectival similarity and competitive
competence vis-a-vis African American music (while in an important sense also placing
German music in direct competition with African American music), JazzIndeed’s 2005
production used the blue-eyed trope to foreground a perspectival difference and a creative
self-sufficiency vis-a-vis African American music. Here, African American musical signifiers are marshaled––somewhat paradoxically––to reinforce ideas of YGJ’s generational,
5
ethnic and national distinctiveness. African American music is used, in other words, to
facilitate a problematic solipsism of non-competition and non-comparison. I will conclude
my comparison by suggesting that precisely “who” is left out of the latter conception is
a concern not just for African Americans but for plenty of other jazz musicians on the
German scene.
Till Brönner’s Blue
Eyed Soul
In an interview for Julian Benedikt’s film Play Your Own Thing (2006), Brönner noted:
Quite early on, I was confronted with not only the Americans’ opinion that Germans
couldn’t be trusted to play authentically. Some people don’t care, and say, ‘So what. I’ll
go to New York. Who cares?’ What are my own roots, then? While I was grappling
with this question I discovered my real German roots. And at some point I asked myself:
‘Must I be black and American to be allowed to play jazz? Or is jazz by now a language,
a vehicle, a vocabulary which is accessible for everyone and which we should just use to
orient ourselves in the direction we actually come from?’ (Benedikt 2006).
Noteworthy here is the way Brönner uses the notion of jazz as self-discovery to advance
a more focused conception of jazz as enabling the discovery of a self that comes from
“somewhere”––a move that seemingly enfolds American jazz individualism into Europe’s
jazz nationalism.
What is odd about the statement, however, is that Brönner’s playing evinces very little,
stylistically, that would mark it as “German,” save, perhaps its cosmopolitan fluency in the
world’s popular music styles, particularly African American ones. This influence is evident on Brönner’s early German Songs––one of the first of the post-Cold War jazz records
to riff on German popular musical history, though with an international rhythm section and
a jazz conception that was quite clearly indebted to Wynton Marsalis’s Standard Time. It
may further be said that Brönner has refined the art not only of musical but also social emulation; Brönner fashioned his early career after Marsalis’s and quickly become something
of a symbol of upward mobility and jazz respectability in Germany. An image-conscious
musician who enjoys fine wines, stylish clothes, and a reputation for dating German supermodels, Brönner sits virtually alone atop the German jazz world, enjoying the highest
fees, the largest audiences, the best sidemen, and gigs in Germany.2
Brönner’s role models are hardly limited to Marsalis, however. After his move from the
local German label Minor Music to the internationally-oriented Verve/Universal, Brönner
released an album entitled Chattin’ with Chet (2000)––a tribute to Chet Baker, the white
trumpeter who by age twenty-three had been branded jazz’s “great white hope”––a moniker
Baker resisted throughout his career, but which nevertheless served as an indicator of the
white critical establishment’s interest in portraying jazz as a musical arena in which whites
could hold their own against blacks. Indeed the arena metaphor is apt since the term “great
white hope” originated in the search for a white competitor who might be able to take
down African American heavyweight boxing champion Jack Johnson in the early twentieth
2 Like
Marsalis, he has also cultivated a “downhome” aspect to his jazz persona: he finds time to mentor younger
musicians, writes album liner notes for up-and-comers, and is a regular at the Saturday jam sessions at Berlin’s
A-Trane. According to Brönner’s brother Pino, one night at the A-Trane, both Brönner and Marsalis were present
for the jam session (local legend has it that Brönner more than held his own against the American icon). After
the session, Marsalis, who apparently warmed to the younger Brönner during the course of the evening, took the
German trumpeter aside and confided that he thought the rifts between Europe and American jazz scenes were
overblown. For critiques of such respectability-building, see Engels (2003) and Biswurm (2009).
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‘YOUNG GERMAN JAZZ’ AND THE POLITICS OF JAZZ COSMOPOLITANISM IN GERMANY
century. As the Nation’s Adam Schatz writes, “The search for the great white hope is as
much a tradition in jazz as it is in boxing.”3
In contrast to Baker’s muted but well-crafted rendition of the lyric to Matt Dennis’s
wistful ballad, “Everything Happens to Me,” from the iconic album, Chet Baker in Paris,
Brönner’s rendition of the same standard on Chatting with Chet layers clear affinities for
the American great white hope with musical signifiers of the African Americanness and
the African diaspora. Note here the reharmonization, the funky bass line, the drum and
bass texture, the bossa-cross rhythm, the amplified vocal effects, and, of course, iconographically, the embrace of the dark skinned woman, in the cover-art photography, who is
there, presumably, to temper the white on white dialogue.
What interests me is the way Brönner’s career has transplanted the old American great
white hope trope to the transatlantic context, while alloying it with both African American
musical and German national identity. For what was “German” about Brönner’s music
at the time was precisely its suspension in larger nationalist discourses that sought competitors worthy of standing toe-to-toe with the “best” American, European, and African
American jazz musicians. Torsten Goods illuminated the ways this competitively racialized discourse is linked to a German resentment over a lack of native role models in the
jazz idiom. Speaking of his own difficulties learning to play jazz in his hometown of Erlangen, Bavaria, Goods compared his experiences of neglect in school and in local clubs
with the positive reception of the African American and mixed African peers with whom
he was acquainted: “you know ... most of those African American kids—really mixed kids
by now—they’re more idolized. Thanks to the hip hop culture they’re the cool ones, so it’s
really like the opposite of discrimination.” Goods soon shifted into a basketball metaphor
to explain the ways an internationally-recognized German “great white hope” could help
to legitimate his own jazz ambitions in Germany.
Also with the basketball culture and that thing being cool, especially with [the German]
Dirk Nowitski, who is now one of the best players in the NBA, you know. A lot of kids
grow up with him as a role model because he helps them see it’s possible, which you can’t
really say with jazz because no German jazz artist has made it that big. [...] It’s sad, you
know, because you had Nils Henning [Orsted Pederson], you had Jan Garbarek, Miroslav
Vitous, Michel Petrucciani, they played with everybody, but Till Brönner, you know, he’s
famous in Germany but we don’t have a Dirk Nowitski yet (Goods, 2006).
Note here that Goods’s statement speaks to a certain ‘generational amnesia’ that I observed throughout my time spent with young jazz musicians Germany. It is not as if the
younger musicians have never heard of internationally known German artists like Albert
Mangelsdorff, it is, rather, that for Goods’s generation, Mangelsdorff’s music represents
an older praxis of the Burgershrecks (enfants terribles) rather than the newer music of the
Bildungsbürgertum (middle class intellectuals). This new emphasis on respectability and
nation-building in German jazz, as it turns out, is among the primary motivations of the
members of the new jazz Generation, who sense that the new zeitgeist might allow more
forceful articulations of German pride than would have been conceivable in Mangelsdorff’s
heyday. Note, for example, the provocative photo that graced the May, 2006 issue of JazzThing, taken at the height of World Cup mania in Germany and a high-water mark of
recent national pride.
3 C.f.
1910’s “fight of the century” which saw undefeated white champion James Jeffries come out of retirement
for the sole purpose of “proving that a white man is better than a Negro.” Johnson’s victory over Jeffries triggered
race rioting all over the country (Schatz 2003).
7
Figure 1.2
Figure 1.3
2006)
Album cover, Chattin’ with Chet (Verve-Universal, 2000)
Christian Schmid’s photo of the 2006 German Jazz Team (Köchl, Engels and Bühler,
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‘YOUNG GERMAN JAZZ’ AND THE POLITICS OF JAZZ COSMOPOLITANISM IN GERMANY
Figure 1.4
Brönner’s Blue Eyed Soul (Verve-Universal, 2002)
This visible emphasis upon national pride among YGJ musicians is embodied somewhat differently in Till Brönner, whose strongest ambition at the time was to crack into
the international market and demonstrate that an ethnic German can hold his own against
African American, American, and also European jazz luminaries. As with many European artists, for Brönner, canonic American acceptance by African Americans remained
the final jazz frontier. It seems clear that by the time of Brönner’s next release, Blue Eyed
Soul (2002) (figure 1.4) his consciousness of his own transatlantic social positioning had
developed even further.
On this album, Brönner, who remains one of the hardest working and most disciplined
of all the artists I surveyed in Europe, once again showcased his flair for African American
groove-based music. If Brönner’s Chattin’ with Chet articulated musical and social affinities with the most notable white American jazz trumpeter after Bix Beiderbecke, Blue Eyed
Soul articulated affinities with several architects of the self-reflexive African American musical genre known as neo-soul: Roy Hargrove, Common, and above all D’Angelo. As on
the earlier albums, Brönner’s playing here is solidly idiomatic. More interesting, however,
is the way the album seems to effect a quintessentially German musical synthesis. By
demonstrating, musically, the compatibility of a blue-eyed, white German identity with
African American soulful identity, Brönner proposed to bridge a persistent transatlantic
musical-discursive divide. That is: if claiming a specifically “German” jazz identity on
earlier albums like German Songs (1995) seemed merely to disguise a heavy reliance upon
African American jazz styles, Blue Eyed Soul invited the audience to consider a different
kind of German jazz, one whose emulation of and competition with African American music could be overt, and aimed not at white theft, per se, but at German respectability and
9
nation-building, paradoxically, by bringing the issue of white theft (i.e., the contentious
legacy of “blue eyed soul”) out into the open and proposing to resolve the conflict.
JazzIndeed’s “Blaue Augen”
On ACT music’s second “YGJ” release, Blaue Augen (2005), the quintet JazzIndeed reinterpreted the hit “Blaue Augen” (1980) from Ideal’s eponymous album Ideal––one of the
most popular Neue Deutsche Welle records of the early 1980s.4 Predominantly based in
Berlin, the musicians of the NDW were credited with creating an “authentic” German pop
style by returning to the German language that had been largely absent in rock productions
of the 1950s and 1960s. In Ideal’s “Blaue Augen,” the music and lyrics project an image
of the outwardly cool and disaffected but inwardly restless Berliner.5 During the verses,
singer Annette Humpe proclaims her skepticism towards consumerism and the products
Berliners were fed by the West (figure 1.5):
Humpe’s message is reinforced musically by the guitarist’s syncopated upbeats, the
drummer’s punk stylings, and the relatively static harmony sustained throughout the verse
(labeled “A”). However, during the refrain (labeled “B”), the tone of the song changes.
Power chords replace guitar syncopation, and a more harmonically active bass progression
conveys a sense of forward momentum as Humpe becomes transfixed by a love object
whose “phenomenal,” “unbelievable” blue eyes drive her to fits of sentimentality. Just as
things are getting interesting, the tag (labeled “C”) cuts Humpe’s rhapsodizing short with
dissonant chords on the piano and warnings from the members of her band, who admonish
her that “it is dangerous, perilous, too much feeling.”
Several of my young German interview subjects who grew up listening to this song
consider it first and foremost a representative example of the detached and ironic aesthetic
of the NDW movement. It would not be a stretch, however, to say that the thematization
of “blue eyes” also encodes deeper conflicts Berliners felt at that time about their relationships to German national and ethnic identities (according to one recent statistic, roughly
seventy-five percent of the people in Germany have blue eyes). The “A” sections would
have resonated with many older Berliners, whose well-placed attempts to reckon with Germany’s national socialist past had been dashed upon the rocks of Western consumerism. In
song after song, politically-minded members of the NDW gave voice to the new German
ennui. On the other hand, “Blaue Augen” derives much of its punch from the alternating
musical sections juxtaposing this sense of boredom with expressions of genuine longing (in
the “B” sections). Here the blue eyes become the object of desire, and stand in for “feeling”
itself (note that the blue eyes make Humpe feel not “romantic” but “sentimental”). As with
Udo Jürgens’s hit, “Griechischer Wein,” or even Lynrd Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama”
(which several of my German interviewees told me was a huge hit in Germany), “Blaue
Augen” became popular in Germany by tapping into deep German desires for national and
ethnic belonging while safely displacing them. Here the blue eyes are carefully smuggled
into the song and then forsworn in the “C” sections, in full knowledge of the dangers that
such longing presents What to make of JazzIndeed’s “Blaue Augen”? In speaking with
both producer Siggi Loch and the members of the band (who had finally been given their
shot to record for a big jazz label after having played together for years in Berlin) it was
4 For
more information on the NDW, see Alfred Hilsberg(1979).
here references Ideal’s performance for German’s ZDF 2 (German TV 2) in 1981, available on
YouTube at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V SrWhDZKIk (accessed July 2, 2009).
5 Description
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‘YOUNG GERMAN JAZZ’ AND THE POLITICS OF JAZZ COSMOPOLITANISM IN GERMANY
Figure 1.5
sections.
The German lyrics to Ideal’s \Blaue Augen," with English translation and labeled
11
clear that they intended it to be a musical “statement” of sorts––not least, perhaps, because
Humpe and Loch collaborated on a Berlin-based record label (“ACT Music + Vision”) in
1988 before Loch dissolved the partnership to start the ACT jazz label. As Loch noted in
the CD’s accompanying promotional material available on the ACT website:
At any rate here come jazz musicians with their own roots, weaned on pop, and unafraid
of ruffling some feathers or of being bruised. It‘s taken long enough in Germany to
dare to do something that in jazz‘s homeland has always been self-explanatory. Even
John Coltrane‘s most successful track came from the pop scene: a standard no less, ‘My
Favorite Things.’ It IS allowed! 6
It is interesting that Loch mentions “My Favorite Things,” for JazzIndeed draws upon
the African American aesthetic tradition of “signifying” in order to transform nearly every
aspect of the original, much as Coltrane did.7 To do so, however, the band relies heavily
upon its own fluency in American R&B and smooth jazz styles, which enables the members of JazzIndeed to iron out the inner conflict apparent in Ideal’s 1980 version while
retaining a critical stance of their own. At the very beginning of JazzIndeed’s rendition,
Schiefel announces his generation’s distance from Humpe’s by singing, in German, “Ideal
leaves me totally cold.” Musically, one finds no trace of Ideal’s emotional hots and cools, as
the group maintains a slow-jam groove throughout. The group further signifies by maintaining the same groove and feel in the transition from the verses to the choruses. The
sustained groove effectively erases the incompatibility between Berliner cosmopolitanism
(as indicated in the lyrics of the “A” sections), and the sentimental German national feeling reflected in the “B” sections. Tellingly, the tag in the “C” sections about “too much
feeling” is left out entirely of JazzIndeed’s rendition and is replaced by an smooth sax
solo, serving to reinforce the musical message that Schiefel’s younger jazz generation had
indeed transcended an older Berliner inner conflict.
The rendition thus projected a YGJ identity savvy enough to use global American styles
to signify upon German popular musical history and yet brazen enough to claim a contemporary blue-eyed identity for itself. On “Blaue Augen,” JazzIndeed showed how the
NDW’s important contributions to German popular culture could be appropriated piecemeal and incorporated into the postmodern musical monument YGJ seeks to build on the
remains of an anxiety-ridden German past. As if there were a doubt as to whether this
might be the correct interpretation, producer Siggi Loch sought to remove all ambiguity in
the CD’s accompanying promotional material:
The French and Scandinavians are already doing it with a clear conscience. It’s time
for German jazz to come out of its intellectual corner. No quality need be lost when
attempting to broaden the jazz tradition with your own experiences. ‘We play in German.
The 80s. Our hits. In reality. . . . There are stories to tell. . . ’ Young German Jazz! We
want more! We love listening to such blue eyes. Jazz? Indeed!”8
Conclusion
As the eminent scholar of race Paul Gilroy has recently argued, “the peculiar synonymity
of the terms European and white cannot continue. And yet, against a wealth of detailed
6 From
the ACT website: http://www.actmusic.com/pdf/9651 2 PFE Blaue Augen.pdf (accessed July 5, 2009).
a discussion of African American “signifying” and its relation to jazz (and “My Favorite Things” in particular, see Monson (1996: 103-122).
8 From the ACT website: http://www.actmusic.com/pdf/9651 2 PFE Blaue Augen.pdf (accessed July 5, 2009).
7 For
12
‘YOUNG GERMAN JAZZ’ AND THE POLITICS OF JAZZ COSMOPOLITANISM IN GERMANY
historical and cultural evidence, all across Europe, identity, belonging––and consequently
the imperiled integrity of national states––are being communicated through the language
and symbols of absolute ethnicity and racialized difference” (Gilroy, 2004: xii). Postmodern aesthetics notwithstanding, today’s YGJ also serves as a vehicle for articulations
of such racialized and nationalized difference. If the discourses of transatlantic jazz allow European jazz communities to defuse charges of European musical ethnocentricity
by alloying their musical productions with tropes of jazz’s American cosmopolitanism or
African American subalternity, I want to conclude by suggesting that celebrations of precisely these European aesthetic freedoms in jazz by ACT and other institutions be viewed
as a kind of distraction or compensatory mechanism.
Even a brief glance at the band photo for the CD cover should alert one to the problematics of harnessing jazz to ethnic identities in Germany; resonant jazz “signifying” in
a national context can register dissonance within a transatlantic context, especially when
age-old stereotypes begin to recirculate (see figure 1.6).
Figure 1.6
Photo used for cover of JazzIndeed’s Blaue Augen (2005).
JazzIndeed’s clever reinterpretation of Ideal’s original demonstrates the compatibility
of African American grooves and doubleness with the voicing of contemporary German
political concerns (they can help to pull German jazz out of its “intellectual corner”). Yet,
in light of the cultural erasure discussed at the beginning of this paper, the ends to which
the unabashed “blue eyed” jazz identity are being put seem not simply of ethnic German
concern. Keep in mind that the blue-eyed people who constitute the majority of Germans
comprise an exclusive club, genetically and sociologically speaking (Weise 2009). A look
at the roster of YGJ musicians as of 2008 revealed that most of the competent, brown-eyed
13
Figure 1.7 Partial list of jazz musicians I played with in Berlin, by nation (and/or ethnicity) and
gender, 2006-7.
Asian, African, Latin American and African American jazz musicians playing in Berlin
had been left out of Loch’s vision. Of the 13 albums and 39 jazz musicians to record
for ACT’s Young German Jazz series by 2008, none of the musicians are non-white, and
few are female. Non-ethnic German Europeans are not bandleaders. Pouring through my
fieldnotes taken during my year of participant observation in Berlin’s jazz clubs, it struck
me that the vision of YGJ portrayed by record labels like ACT did not at all reflect the
multiethnic, multinational character of Berlin’s young jazz scene. In addition to ethnic
Germans, Americans and African Americans, those listed in figure 1.7 were also present
on the scene.:
Comparing the band photo with this diverse list should prompt us to consider whether
European jazz nationalism and its champions not just in Germany but elsewhere restrict the
scope of jazz by pressing it into the service of exclusive agendas that favor not individual
competitive excellence and engagement with brown-eyed music, a la Brönner’s Blue Eyed
Soul, but collective identity and engagement with more parochial ethnic and more narrowly
national concerns, a la Blaue Augen. Germany is of course by no means unique among the
European countries that have turned jazz to ethnocentric ends, but historical complexity
of German nationalism and Germany’s relatively late entry into the competitive European
jazz culture wars make it, at the very least, a potentially explosive case. The photo, promotional material, and German themed-music on Blaue Augen use the exclusivist discourse
not simply to position Germans as “different” among European musical cultures; they also
serve notice to American jazz communities that segments of the German jazz scene define
themselves largely in opposition to brown-eyed jazz identities while––and this is the crucial point that seems to be lost in today’s transatlantic jazz world––borrowing from African
American music to do so. No longer comfortable conforming to myopic American ideas of
jazz “excellence,” many German musicians are now encouraged to size up jazz with their
own keen blue eyes. The real question, it seems to me, is whether the German jazz indus-
14
‘YOUNG GERMAN JAZZ’ AND THE POLITICS OF JAZZ COSMOPOLITANISM IN GERMANY
try––and the young musicians who are becoming increasingly dependent upon it––will be
interested in interrogating the idea that these blue eyes might themselves be myopic.
References
Benedikt, Julian. 2006. Play Your Own Thing–Eine Geschichte Des Euroäischen Jazz.
DVD. Alive Vertrieb & Marketing, 2006.
Biswurm, Roland HH. 2009, “Frech siegt: One Sandra Weckert Fan Might Be Wrong.”
Jazz Zeitung 2002/09, Seite 13. http://www.jazzzeitung.de/jazz/2002/09/portrait-weckert.shtml,
accessed 16 Oct, 2016.
Brönner, Till. 2000. Chattin’ with Chet. 157 534-1, Verve.
Brönner, Till. 2002. Blue Eyed Soul, 016 879-2, Verve.
Daerr, Carsten, and Daniel Erdmann. 2007. Berlin Calling, Berlin, Apr. 11-13 and Jul. 3,
2006, ACT CD 9656-2. http://www.actmusic.com/product info.php?products id=225&show=2,
accessed 20, June 2009.
Engels, Josef. 2003. “Roundtable.” Jazz Thing 49 (2003), p. 70.
Goods, Torsten. 2006. Interview with author, Berlin, December 2006.
Gilroy, Paul. 2004. “Forward,” in Blackening Europe: The African American Presence,
Heike Rafael-Hernandez, ed., (New York: Routledge, 2004), p. xii.
Hilsberg, Alfred. 1979. “Neue Deutsche Welle—Aus grauer Städte Mauern.” Sounds.
http://www.highdive.de/over/sounds3.htm, accessed 30 Sept, 2016.
Ideal. 1980. “Blaue Augen,” Ideal, Germany, Innovative Records, KS 80 004.
JazzIndeed with Michael Schiefel. 2005. “Blaue Augen,” Blaue Augen. ACT 9651-2.
Köchl, Reinhard, Josef Engels, and Götz Bühler. 2006. “German Jazz Team 2006,” Jazz
Thing, no. 64, (2006), pp. 36-43.
Monson, Ingrid. 1996. Saying Something, (University of Chicago Press, 1996).
Schatz, Adam. 2003. “Fight Club,” The Nation, May 22, 2003.
WDR 3. 2013. “WDR Jazzpreis 2014–Die PreisträgerInnen stehen fest!” Jazz in NRW, 11
July, 2013.https://web.archive.org/web/20131110225715/http://www.wdr3.de/musik/
jazzbeiwdr3/jazzpreis116.html. Accessed Oct 14, 2016.
15
Weise, Elizabeth. 2008. “More than meets the blue eye: You may be related.” USA Today,
Feb 8, 2008. http://www.azcentral.com/ent/pop/articles/0206blueeyes0206.html (accessed
July 5, 2009).
Wollny, Michael, Eva Kruse and Eric Schafer. 2005. Call it [em], Gothenburg, Sweden,
Feb. 9-10, 2004, CD ACT 2650-2.
Suggested Citation
Bares, W. (2017) ‘Young German Jazz’ and the Politics of Jazz Cosmopolitanism in Germany, in Medbøe, H., Moir, Z., and Atton, C. (eds), Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz
from Europe, Edinburgh, Continental Drift Publishing, 1–15
Contributor Details
Pianist / scholar William Bares received his Ph.D in ethnomusicology in 2009 from Harvard University under the mentorship of Ingrid Monson, the Quincy Jones Professor of
African American Music. He spent much of the past decade researching European jazz and
playing professionally on the European scene. He has published articles on transatlantic
jazz in Jazzforschung, Jazz Research Journal, American Music, and the Grove Dictionary
of American Music, among others. He taught at Harvard University, Brown University,
Berklee College of Music and the New England Conservatory before taking a job as assistant professor of music and director of jazz studies at the University of North Carolina,
Asheville, in 2011. Bares is active in Asheville’s thriving musical community as an educator, musician and promoter. He was the solo pianist in the Blue Ridge Orchestra’s debut
of Rhapsody in Blue, and serves as curator of the Sunday Jazz Showcase at Asheville’s
famed Isis Music Hall. He was also coordinator of Ecomusicologies 2014: Dialogues—an
international meeting of scholars and musicians that took place in Asheville in October of
2014. His book, Eternal Triangle: American Jazz in European Postmodern, is forthcoming.
2
THE ROLE OF THE FESTIVAL PRODUCER
IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF JAZZ IN
EUROPE
Emma Webster
Introduction
According to Steve Rubie, owner of London’s 606 Club, trying to show the development
of jazz sonically is impossible because ‘it would be like trying to define a colour’. In
thinking about jazz in Europe, then, this paper will instead show some of the ways that
jazz festivals have contributed towards its development, based on a case study of the EFG
London Jazz Festival. Drawing on archival material and interviews with EFG London Jazz
Festival staff, musicians and audiences, this paper forms part of the Impact of Festivals
project with Professor George McKay at the University of East Anglia, in collaboration
with the EFG London Jazz Festival, funded by the Arts and Humanities Research Council.
For more information, see https://impactoffestivals.wordpress.com.
The first international jazz festival took place in Nice in 1948 and featured traditional
jazz, swing, and bop. It was organised by the French Government and Hugues Panassié and
his Hot Club de France and was headlined by Louis Armstrong and his All Stars (Lyttelton
2008: 152). Across the Atlantic, the first Newport Jazz and Folk Festival was held in
1954 (Miles Davis debuted in 1955) and the first Monterey Jazz Festival was held in 1958,
although, as Martinelli suggests (2016), ’The concept of jazz festivals is more a European
invention than an American one’. Often credited as the first recognised jazz festival in
Britain was Beaulieu in 1956, and then came the National Jazz Festivals which began
Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe.
Continental Drift Publishing - Copyright Retained by Individual Authors c 2017
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THE ROLE OF THE FESTIVAL PRODUCER IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF JAZZ IN EUROPE
in 1961 after Beaulieu had descended into violence between trad and modern jazz fans
(cf McKay 2004). However, as Hobsbawm suggests, writing in 1959, from the musician’s
point of view, jazz festivals such as Newport, Nice, Cannes and San Remo were ‘spiritually
rather than financially satisfactory, like the occasional recitals in the temples of official
music [like London’s Royal Festival Hall] . . . They are a sort of cultural recognition of
jazz, but too infrequent to count much’ (Hobsbawm 1959: 184).
Fast forward to 2016, and festivals now form an essential part of the jazz world, providing pivot points around which artists and audiences’ years are planned. In Britain, for
example, according to Tackley and Martin ‘there are few weekends throughout the year on
which there is not a jazz festival somewhere’ (2013: 22). As a literature review in 2016
into the impact of jazz festivals found (Webster and McKay 2015), there has also been
an increase in academic interest in festivals over the past few decades, with the range of
interdisciplinary interest ranging from event management and urban studies, to social psychology and tourism studies. There is, however, little research as yet about the creative
role of the jazz festival producer and, more broadly, the impact of jazz festivals. However, as Jordan argues (2016: 11), ‘Festivalisation is changing and reshaping the cultural
market place, audience expectations and production processes’ therefore more research is
required.
Keogh’s work on the function of Australian jazz festivals is one exception to this gap
in the literature. He argues that festival producers are cultural intermediaries with ‘gatekeeping functions of co-producers, tastemakers and selectors’ (2014: 184). Based on analysis of programmes of five festivals, Keogh’s data yields interesting comparisons across
festivals on issues of artists’ geographical origins, gender, and crossover with world music,
but the quantitative approach gives little nuance as to the development of jazz itself and it
is difficult to tease out how or why producers fulfil their creative role. Highlighting how
jazz festival producers walk a fine line between innovation and continuity in their efforts to
both maintain existing audiences and develop new ones, Medbøe examines the interdependencies and frictions between the creators and the promoters of jazz in Edinburgh (2014:
8). In what Keogh defines as the festival producer’s ‘search and selection’ function, as
Medbøe points out, in choosing which music is presented to the public and which isn’t, the
subsequent exclusion of musicians can either ‘galvanise or erode a musician’s motivations,
stimulating a creative rethink, the adoption or establishment of alternative performance
platforms or, at worst, despondency’ (ibid: 9). In this way, then, promoters can impact directly on musicians’ future directions and festival producers’ programming decisions can
thus shape the field of cultural production.1
Furthermore, in their role as cultural investors, importers and innovators, and through
their decisions around venue and promotion, promoters can have a great deal of influence
over the audience’s experience of live music (cf Webser 2011). As Cloonan argues, much
of the success of live music is not to do with what the musicians do but instead it’s about
environment and audiences: ‘It is here that the creativity work of that key cultural intermediary, the promoter, may come to the fore’ (unpublished). Advocating more research into
the creative role of the promoter, and based on Marx’s idea that the ruling ideas at any time
are those of the ruling class, Cloonan argues that promoters are the music industries’ new
ruling class and that an understanding of their worldview is important to understand the
sorts of ideas that are likely to underpin practices within the music industries (2012: 1661 It
is worth noting here that ‘promoter’ and ‘producer’ are sometimes used interchangeably. In this paper, promoter is defined as a talent buyer who has little creative input, whereas a producer is someone who takes a more
creative role in programming beyond purely that of merely paying an artist and a venue.
19
167). With this in mind, based on a case study of the EFG London Jazz Festival, this paper
will suggest four interlinking ways in which festivals and festival producers have played
a part in the development of jazz in Europe, namely by providing platforms to showcase
work, bringing together artists to play together, developing audiences for jazz and new
work, and creating a space for cultural diplomacy which then impacts on the jazz scene
more broadly.
Showcasing and exporting
The first London Jazz Festival took place in 1993, a distillation of other London-based
festivals which had come before; in particular, the Bracknell Jazz Festival and Camden
Jazz Week. The EFG London Jazz Festival is produced by Serious, a producer of live
jazz, international and contemporary music, and the title sponsor is currently private Swiss
bank, EFG International. The introduction to the first London Jazz Festival guide contains
a mission statement of sorts:May 1993 heralds the start of something new and exciting for the London jazz scene.
After too many years without a jazz festival of the scale provided by other European cities,
London will at last reflect the important cultural contributions made by its own committed
and creative musicians, in 10 days of eclectic jazz-related activity from around the world
. . . Involving more international jazz stars and top venues than ever before, it is seen as a
prototype of a festival that will spread right across London in years to come.
As EFG London Jazz Festival director John Cumming explains, the aim was to draw
in the grass roots of the UK/London scene on the one side, ‘which would then celebrate
the fact that London was a year-round jazz city and provide a focal point’ and would
also ‘be a focal point for bringing in high level international jazz into the city’. The first
tool for development is when the Festival acts as a platform for local talent and creates a
showcase for exporting musicians abroad (cf Washburne 2010: Payne and Jeanes 2010),
particularly at so-called ‘field configuring events’ (Leenders, Go and Bhansing 2015: 758)
– those which draw together key industry figures, like the London and North Sea jazz
festivals. In 2014, for example, the British Council invited international festival producers
to the London Jazz Festival from countries like Kenya, Turkey, and Ukraine to attend
performances and networking receptions to broker new relationships with the UK jazz
sector (British Council 2014). For emerging artists nowadays, performing in the EFG
London Jazz Festival offers a certain status, a concrete means of signalling their prowess
and experience to other venue and festival bookers. For saxophonist Camilla George, for
instance: ‘It’s a good thing to tick off, “I’ve done the London Jazz Festival with my own
project”; yeah, I think it is a big thing’. For Bex Burch, band leader of Vula Viel, who
played the Festival’s opening night gig at Ronnie Scott’s in 2015:That [festival] gig for us was really great ... Lots of people there were industry, lots of
people were reviewers ... And we’re in talks with a couple of people who were there about
festivals in the future ... so possible other gigs may come out of it as well.
As well as showcasing local talent in order to export and develop international markets
for their work (Cf Payne and Jeanes 2010), festivals can also be sites for showcasing international artists and introducing local audiences to new artists from overseas. To this
end, an early strategy of the London Jazz Festival was to include national themes. The
1996 Festival, for example, included the Jazz From Norway mini festival, 1997 was the
turn of Austria – featuring the Vienna Arts Orchestra (VAO) in their 20th anniversary year
20
THE ROLE OF THE FESTIVAL PRODUCER IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF JAZZ IN EUROPE
among others, and providing ‘a timely opportunity to revalue the hip heritage of Habsburgville’ (Johnson 1997) – and France in 1998. The main aim of Jazz From Norway was
to introduce the extraordinary quality of Norwegian jazz to a British audience. Whilst most
contemporary jazz followers would have been aware of Jan Garbarek, it had been a number
of years since Terje Rypdal or Arild Andersen had played in London, and many other Norwegian players were unknown at that time, yet as the Jazz From Norway brochure points
out, ‘these are some of Europe’s finest players, representative of a jazz scene that could
have produced two or three different programmes of comparable class’. As it continues,
‘Part of the role of an event like the London Jazz Festival is to reflect the changing face of
the music’.
Festival producers are necessarily both proactive and reactive to the changing face of
the music. The American dominance of jazz, although still a major feature of the London
Jazz Festival’s programming, was on the wane into the new millennium as young European
musicians developed confidence in European jazz. As VAO’s Mathias Ruegg explained in
1997, ‘Some very big influences are coming from Europe, especially from those musicians
who mix jazz with classical or folk music. People like Jan Garbarek or Albert Mangelsdorff
have created a special kind of language for European jazz. And Django Reinhardt? He was
a genius’ (cited in Johnson 1997). When asked where the Austrian-ness of his music comes
in, Ruegg replied, ‘Er, it doesn’t, or not very much. It’s just a fact. When we started we
were Austrian, but now we are international, European’ (ibid.).
Thematic programming
The ‘Jazz From . . . ’ mini festivals discussed above illustrate another creative role of the
festival producer in the development of jazz in Europe, namely via thematic programming;
in the case of the Jazz From . . . series, the theme being music and musicians from a
particular European country. This is highlighted by Jordan as one of a number of ways
in which festival promoters have used the motifs of ‘festivalisation’ – the trend towards
reconfiguring series of events into festivals – another being commissioning (Jordan 2015:
3). As she says, ‘Themes serve as a spark to the artistic imagination and also convey layers
of meaning’ (ibid: 7), which in the case of the London Jazz Festival, meant setting out its
stall as a festival which, like Camden before it, reflected the new energy emerging from the
UK and European scene alongside the African-American tradition of the music.
Providing an example of thematic programming and also illustrating the EFG London
Jazz Festival’s role in providing a platform for new collaboration and commissioning new
work, the Jazz in the New Europe initiative in 2012 was a programme that, according to that
year’s festival brochure, brought ‘seminal’ figures in the evolution of jazz in Europe over
the past five decades together with emerging talent ‘in a series of new collaborations and
commissions, club nights and panel sessions, extending throughout the city, and connecting
with the UK’s vibrant jazz community’. The project was supported by a one-year grant
from the Culture Programme of the European Union, and the spotlight was on Finland,
France and Norway. One such collaboration was between Manchester’s Beats and Pieces,
led by Ben Cottrell and Norway’s Ensemble Denada, led by Helge Sunde, as reviewed in
The Quietus (Thomas 2012):When Cottrell and Helge Sunde swap places to conduct each other’s ensemble with new
compositions written by the composers, it’s clear that this is one project making the most
of its European cultural funding.
21
Commissions, ‘cultural dating’ and creative use of venues
Another significant creative role for festivals and for festival producers in the development
of jazz, then, is to commission new work and to programme in ways which bring together
disparate artists, audiences, and venues. This example of what has been called ‘cultural
dating’ has long been a feature of the London Jazz Festival and its predecessors. Writing
about John Cumming’s programming of the Camden Jazz Week in 1990, for example, jazz
critic Massarik (1990) suggests that:The novelty of simply filling jazz festivals with big-name artists and their regular working
groups seems to be wearing off. Instead we now find the ‘festival concept’ in which the
producer/director aims to be as creative as the performers out front . . . It was [John
Cumming’s] idea to present John Surman and Jack DeJohnette with the Balanescu string
quartet and, after some painful moments, the experiment was successful’.
Developing the ‘festival concept’ idea of international collaboration and forming part
of the London Jazz Festival in 2002 was the six-hour Adventures in Sound gig, produced
with long-time collaborators Somethin’ Else, and featuring Matthew Bourne, the Matthew
Shipp Trio, Evan Parker and the improvised thrash metal electronica of the Scorch Trio
from Norway. The gig started at 4pm and finished at 10pm, between which times no-one
really knew what would happen. As London Jazz Festival director David Jones recalls:I think it was a very good thing that it hadn’t been rehearsed, that it hadn’t been shaped.
The audience really got into the drama of it; they could see musicians visibly responding
to what was going on around them. It was almost like being able to take an audience into
the inner workings of the idea.
The gig was supported by the PRS Foundation as well as European partners NorwayUK, and the Europe Jazz Odyssey, the latter funded by a Culture 2000 grant from the
European Commission. Europe Jazz Odyssey was the result of eleven members of Europe Jazz Network EJN joining together in a major artistic collaboration which enabled
the partners to mount a three-year programme of innovative collaborations, residencies
and workshops between musicians from throughout the continent, and a series of colloquia
which explored the status of this key area of musical action, especially concentrating on
its crucial role within the general cultural and educational contexts of today’s Europe (Europe Jazz Network 2016). In 2004, the Festival hosted a new international collaboration
between pianist Matthew Bourne’s Distortion Trio with guitarist Chris Sharkey and drummer Dave Black, with special guests from France, saxophonist Christophe deBezanac and
electronicist Christian Sebille as part of the Europe Jazz Odyssey project.
Commissioning new work and presenting world premieres is often another feature of
jazz festivals. In 2013, for example, the EFG London Jazz Festival commissioned 21 composers to write 21 new pieces to celebrate the Festival’s 21st birthday. Artists included
Courtney Pine, Nik Bartsch, and Jason Yarde, the latter’s Bold As Brass featuring over 100
amateur brass players of all ages and abilities. In 2014, the festival producer’s creative role
can be seen again when Scottish folk electronica band Lau were programmed on the same
bill together with three European artists from jazz and DJ backgrounds: Henrik Schwarz,
Bugge Westletoft and Dan Berglund, the bass player with EST. As Cumming explains, the
process behind the idea was collaborative, not ‘top down’ because where Festival collaborations come from is ‘more to do with creating a dialogue with musicians’ than a diktat
from above. Serious had had a long relationship with many of the artists in the groups, and
from a list of artists with whom Lau were interested in working, Serious threw back the
names of Bugge and Henrik, and then threw Lau to Henrik. The result in this instance was,
22
THE ROLE OF THE FESTIVAL PRODUCER IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF JAZZ IN EUROPE
as Cumming suggests, ‘a collaboration between two areas of music which don’t necessarily
seem to work but actually did’.
Another important creative role of festival producers is in matching artist to venue. As
Jordan writes, unlike theatres and concert halls which are constrained by regular seasons of
events, ‘festivals have the flexibility to explore new sites and create links between venues,
places and communities in new and playful ways’ (2015: 11). For Manchester Jazz Festival
artistic director, Steve Mead, for example, ‘I think festivals can adapt to a changing climate;
they can work in partnership with venues and other cultural and non-cultural organisations.
Whereas if you’re stuck with a venue, I think you are that: you are a venue and you’ve got
to fill it all year with music and people and you’ve got what you’ve got’. As he continued,
‘Programming is not just choosing a great band. It’s putting it somewhere at the right time
in the right place. I’d like to think there’s an art to that. If it looks like it’s easy then I’ve
done a good job’.
The use of certain venues may also convey deeper layers of meaning. Writing much earlier but still pertinent, as trumpeter Humphrey Lyttelton wryly noted: ‘It is considered an
extra feather in the cap of jazz if it can be presented in a hall normally reserved exclusively
for serious music’ (Lyttelton 2008, 164). The great temple of classical music, London’s
Wigmore Hall, a ‘little gem of civilisation’ with a ‘pin-perfect acoustic’ (Lebrecht 2010)
was first used by the London Jazz Festival in 2004 for the Brad Mehldau trio from America, in 2005 for Norwegian Tord Gustavsen’s piano trio, while in 2006, Brits John Taylor
and Gwilym Simcock both explored its peerless acoustics. In this way, the London Jazz
Festival was putting on jazz in the very heart of the classical establishment in London. Indeed, this postmodern blurring of genre boundaries in recent times has been beneficial to
jazz more broadly. In an article in July 2016 asking whether jazz is entering another golden
age, The Guardian highlighted how there’s been an overall renaissance in press coverage
in recent times, which it puts down partly to cross-genre collaborations from both the pop
and classical worlds and partly to a ceasefire between the different jazz factions in the ‘jazz
wars’ of old (Colter Walls 2016).
Audience Development
The third means by which jazz festivals have played a practical role in the development of
jazz in Europe is via audience development, with festivals perceived as ‘key tools’ (Jazz
Development Trust and Morris Hargreaves McIntyre 2001). One of the means by which
they do this is by forming a focus for jazz activity and acting as an amplifier which attracts
media attention. BBC Radio 3, for instance, has been a supporter of the London Jazz
Festival from the start, and as Nod Knowles explains, although the station was traditionally
a classical music station, as it has expanded its range of music styles, it now takes a large
part of its live recorded output from jazz, folk, and world festivals (Knowles 2015: 209),
to the point of becoming the main broadcasting partner of the London Jazz Festival, and
indeed sponsoring the festival – or rather, being ‘in association with’ – between 2001 and
2012. For the 606 Club’s Steve Rubie, the London Jazz Festival has ‘made a fantastic
impact’ and has got jazz into the general media, breaking down people’s perceptions that
they are ‘scared of jazz or thinking it is a minority thing’:
It gives a sense that this is a London-wide thing and loads of people are going to it and
it’s the sort of thing you should check out. And that is the biggest thing that the London
Jazz Festival has done . . . In terms of promoting the music to the general public, I think
it’s done that. I think it does a fantastic job.
23
The impact of festivals is not only felt within the temporal and geographical location
of their host city or town, however, as festivals continue to live on via new social connections, recordings and ensembles which are born out of them (Curtis 2010: 114). In
2013, for example, Serious commissioned professional film-makers to create content by
documenting a number of shows, on stage and behind-the-scenes. One such was the 21
Commissions strand in the 2013 Festival, creating a concise ‘highlights’ video which was
also used to promote the Festival, as well as engaging audiences who couldn’t personally
attend the Festival, and creating its own radio channel and playlist, thus allowing the public to sample tracks from performers. The use of digital technology in this way combines
two functions: marketing and audience engagement, allowing audiences to discover new
music and artists to develop a new fanbase, as well as selling the Festival to a potentially
global audience. By 2014, the Festival had 20,000 Facebook followers and 4,000+ on its
YouTube channel, which they used daily to engage followers, thus expanding the virtual
reach of the Festival beyond its ten-day temporal reality. By 2015, the EFG London Jazz
Festival had partnered with BBC Music, BBC Radio Scotland, and Radio 1, 2, 3 and 6 Music, which meant that, alongside a dedicated temporary ‘pop up station’, the event could
be ‘cross-trailed’ across radio and website platforms, leading one 2015 EFG London Jazz
Festival-goer to remark that ‘it just did feel like it was everywhere this year’.
Festival producers’ other activities
Defining promoters as ‘cultural conduits’, Medbøe’s work also highlights how festival promoters are often engaged in jazz promotion more broadly. Jazz Scotland, for example, also
presents the Aberdeen, Dundee, Fife, Islay and Lockerbie jazz festivals, as well as programming Edinburgh Jazz & Blues Festival (Medbøe 2013: 4). In Denmark, research
in 2012 found that the Copenhagen Jazz Festival Foundation is also involved in the arrangement of a number of other concerts and festivals that feature Danish and international
acts during the rest of the year, including the ‘Nordic network partnership’, the ‘Copenhagen Jazz Festival Experience’, ‘JazzVisits’ and ‘Jazz for Kids’, as well as collaborating
with the world music trade fair and showcase, WOMEX (2009–2011), the Nordic network ‘Nordjazz’, and the Movable Platform, a development project in Tanzania (Dvinge,
Bruckner-Haring, and Kehl 2013: 106).
Festivals and festival producers are important, then, because they act as nodes within national and international jazz networks, and as British saxophonist Andy Sheppard explains:You have to get yourself, as a musician, into the European jazz family, the American jazz
family, the worldwide jazz family, in order to survive and grow. But it’s so difficult to do
that. You have to [get to know people in] each country, you have to really engage with
people. And often it’s a long-term thing to work out.
A festival producer like Serious’ John Cumming, who has been promoting jazz festivals
since the 1970s, is therefore a key figure because he has been part of the ‘jazz family’ for
such a long time and has built up a great deal of experience and contacts.
Serious, the producer of the EFG London Jazz Festival, are year-round concert promoters, organising tours by jazz and ‘world music’ musicians around the UK. 2015 saw
Serious’ continuing partnership with the Barbican as an Associate Producer, and confirmation of several of Serious’ multi-year regional partnership contracts, including music
programme consultation for Gateshead Jazz Festival, the Bath Festival, and the Norfolk
and Norwich Festival.
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THE ROLE OF THE FESTIVAL PRODUCER IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF JAZZ IN EUROPE
Cultural diplomacy
One of the ways in which jazz develops behind the scenes is via networks like the Europe Jazz Network (EJN) and the International Jazz Festival Organisation. The final role
of the festival producer is through their advocacy and cultural diplomacy work with such
networks and their role in bringing in funding and sponsorship. With Serious as a founder
member, the EJN was set up in 1987 as a network of promoters who connected with one another via new electronic communication methods, the intention being to share ideas about
musicians and live promotion and to collaborate in organising tours and concerts. Members now use the network to drive European projects and develop collaborations, but the
members also do important advocacy work for jazz, particularly in the current economic
climate in which governments across Europe have been cutting arts spending (Europe Jazz
Network 2010: 21). The EJN exists ‘to support the identity and diversity of jazz in Europe and broaden awareness of this vital area of music as a cultural and educational force’
(Europe Jazz Network 2016). Its manifesto, signed in 2004, states that European jazz functions as a ‘catalyst between different cultural heritages from local and migrant sources and
between known and newly-discovered musical forms. Its openness and thirst for diversity is a permanent self-protection against any kind of nationalism’ (Europe Jazz Network
2004). Perhaps reflecting this move away from nationalism and towards integration, it is
also interesting to note that although the London Jazz Festival in the 1990s programmed
nationally themed mini-festivals and seasons, by the 21st-century this concept has largely
been dropped in favour of themes or the umbrella-ing of existing mini-festivals. On the
one hand, the opening up of the European Union (EU) in 2004 to countries like Estonia, Poland, and Slovenia saw an increase in anti-immigration and anti-EU rhetoric across
much of Europe, and no doubt played a part in Britain’s decision in 2016 to leave the EU
(‘Brexit’). On the other, for Serious it also opened up further opportunities for importing
and exporting jazz from an even wider range of countries. In 2009, for example, the London Jazz Festival was part of POLSKA! YEAR, a joint initiative by the Polish Ministry
of Culture and National Heritage and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, coordinated by the
Polish cultural exchange agency, the Adam Mickiewicz Institute. POLSKA! YEAR was
comprised of over 200 projects ‘presenting the most interesting achievements of Polish
culture to the UK audience’, from which the London Jazz Festival got £35,000 to do a
programme of work with Polish artists.
The building of relationships across Europe over the past 25 years has meant that the
EFG London Jazz Festival now works within high-powered political circles and with global
sponsors. In 2013, for example, the Festival worked with the German Federal Foreign Office, the Kingdom of the Netherlands, and the Norwegian Embassy to name but a few, and,
as well as being supported by Arts Council England, the festival is sponsored by companies such as the Radisson hotel group, Eurostar, and private Swiss bank EFG International.
Festivals, then, can act as focal points for state funding and corporate sponsorship from
countries and companies keen to invest in culture as a vehicle for both export and for
cultural diplomacy, albeit not always uncontroversially (cf Spicer 2013). On the other
hand, festivals may be perceived as absorbing funding from other projects and organisations. Recognising that his own organisation’s receipt of the lion’s share of the London
Arts Board’s jazz budget in 1993 was a ‘sore point’ with all the other potential recipients,
for example, John Cumming was instead convinced that with its variety of programming
that deals with the music’s roots, the impact of the festival would eventually help everyone
(Fordham 1993). As well as high-powered European political relationships, the EFG London Jazz Festival works closely with the British All-Party Parliamentary Jazz Appreciation
25
Group, a group for members of parliament interested in jazz, which hosts the Festival’s Jazz
In The House launch party, attended by parliamentarians, journalists, jazz industry practitioners, and sponsors. As EFG London Jazz Festival director Claire Whitaker suggests,
‘We had a greater attendance of MPs and politicians than anything else and yet it was jazz.
It wasn’t a string quartet. I think again that sort of thing doesn’t just give us confidence as
an organisation, it gives the scene confidence that it gets that kind of recognition’.
Conclusion
In these ways, the EFG London Jazz Festival – and jazz festivals more broadly – have
acted as cultural investors (and exploiters), importers and innovators (cf Webster 2011),
who have played a role in shaping the development of jazz in Europe. They have done
so by providing platforms to showcase work, bringing together artists to play together,
developing audiences for jazz and new work, and creating a space for cultural diplomacy
which then impacts on the jazz scene more broadly (albeit recognising that not all jazz
festivals operate at the same level as the EFG London Jazz Festival). In doing so, as
director David Jones explains:I think what the London Jazz Festival has done is to feed out to the world at large a
confidence that jazz is an important music and it has a place for engaging with any other
music it chooses to work with. So I think we’ve managed to push over a lot of boundaries
and other people have gone, ‘Well, if they can do it, so can we.’
Not everyone has been so positive about the London Jazz Festival’s programming over
the years, however, particularly in the way that the festival has included ‘world music’ in its
programme and publicity. Back in 2002, The Independent on Sunday, for example, pleaded
that in future, ‘Can we just render unto jazz what belongs to jazz, and let world music devotees bang their drums elsewhere? Jazz is underfunded and underappreciated, and the way
to attract new recruits is not by getting people along under false pretences – not that “don’t
worry, it’s not really a jazz festival” is much of a rallying cry’ (Byrnes 2002). However, the
Festival aims to reflect London with its myriad cultures and languages, therefore to have a
jazz festival which didn’t include music from around the world would be unrepresentative
of London as a global city.
There is also criticism more broadly about festivals. For example, concerns have been
expressed about the consequences of presenting jazz on the festival platform or the concert stage as it can lead to routinisation and risk aversion (Tackley and Martin 2013: 23).
Furthermore, unlike the sustained engagement of regular club attendance, some argue that
festivals offer superficial social and cultural engagement with both art and with other people (Jordan 2015: 10).
Criticism aside, what this paper has shown is how festivals and festivals producers have
played a creative and practical role in the development of jazz in Europe (and beyond),
providing funding and frameworks and space for dialogue between the musicians who
ultimately create the new sounds of European jazz. To conclude, it is worth returning
to Cloonan’s assertion that promoters are the music industries’ new ruling class and that
an understanding of their worldview provides key insights into the contemporary – and
potential future – state of those industries. In the face of climate change, continuing economic uncertainty, mass global migration, and a post-Brexit Europe, festivals like the EFG
London Jazz Festival which are global in its scope and pluralist in attitude can provide a
progressive, outward-facing worldview in an otherwise seeming increasingly isolationist
world.
26
THE ROLE OF THE FESTIVAL PRODUCER IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF JAZZ IN EUROPE
References
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Burch, Bex. 2016. Telephone interview with Emma Webster, 11 January 2016.
Cloonan, Martin, ‘Selling the experience: The world-views of British concert promoters,
Creative Industries Journal, 5, no. 1 + 2 (2012), 151–170.
Cloonan, Martin, Promoting Live Music: Practising Creativity? Unpublished journal article, n.d.
Colter Walls, Seth, ‘Is jazz entering a new golden age?’ The Guardian, 8 July, 2016. Accessed 11-Jul-16.
https://www.theguardian.com/music/2016/jul/08/is-jazz-entering-a-new-golden-age
Cumming, John. 2016. Interview with Emma Webster, London, 11 February.
Cumming, John. 2016. Interview with Emma Webster, London, 3 May.
Curtis, Rebecca Anne, ‘Australia’s capital of jazz? The (re)creation of place, music and
community at the Wangaratta Jazz Festival’. Australian Geographer 41, no. 1 (2010): 101116.
Dvinge, Anne, Christa Bruckner-Haring and Caterina Kehl, ‘Historical overview of the development of jazz in Denmark’, in Historical Overviews of Five Partner Countries, Rhythm
Changes (Graz, Austria: Institute for Jazz Research, 2013): 97-113. Accessed 18-Dec-15.
http://www.rhythmchanges.net/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/Historical-Report-WEBSITE.pdf
Europe Jazz Network, ‘The EJN Manifesto’, Europe Jazz Network website, 2004. Accessed 11-Jul-16. http://www.europejazz.net/ejn-manifesto
Europe Jazz Network, General assembly report. Pantin, France: Europe Jazz Network,
2010.
Europe Jazz Network, ‘About us’, Europe Jazz Network website, 2016. Accessed 11-Jul16. http://www.europejazz.net/about-europe-jazz-network
Europe Jazz Network. 2016b. ‘A Brief History’. Europe Jazz Network website. Accessed
11-Jul-16. http://www.europejazz.net/brief-history
Fordham, John, ‘Back in the groove’, The Guardian, 11 May 1993: A4.
George, Camilla. 2016. Interview with Emma Webster, London, 27 May.
Hobsbawn, Eric (writing as Francis Newton), The Jazz Scene. London: MacGibbon &
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Kee, 1959.
Jazz Development Trust and Morris Hargreaves McIntyre, How to Develop Audiences for
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Johnson, Phil, ‘Getting hip with the Habsburgs’, The Independent, 14 November1997: 14.
Jones, David. 2016. Interview with Emma Webster, London, 11 February.
Jordan, Jennie, ‘Festivalisation of Cultural Production’, in The Ecology of Culture: Community Engagement, Co-creation, Cross Fertilization, Conference Proceedings of the 6th
Annual ENCACT Research Session, 21-23 October 2015 (Paris, ENCACT, 2015): 244255
Keogh, Brent, ‘“A tale of five festivals”: Exploring the cultural intermediary function of
Australian jazz festivals’. Jazz Research Journal 8, no. 1-2 (2014): 182-201.
Knowles, Nod, ‘Reflections on the festival business’. In Organising Music: Theory, Practice, Performance, ed. Nic Beech and Charlotte Gilmore. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015: 205-212.
Lebrecht, Norman, ’The concert hall should be out of this world’, The Daily Telegraph, 3
April 2010: n.p.
Leenders, Mark A. A. M., Frank M. Go and Pawan V. Bhansing, ‘The importance of the
location in hosting a festival: a mapping approach’, Journal of Hospitality Marketing and
Management 24, no. 7 (2015): 754-769.
Lyttelton, Humphrey, Last Chorus: An Autobiographical Medley. London: JR Books,
2008.
Martinelli, Francesco, ’European jazz’ (presentation at Researching (Jazz) Festivals, Cheltenham Jazz Festival, 29 April 2016).
Massarik, Jack, ‘Hits and mixes’, Evening Standard, 20 March 1990: n.p.
McKay, George, ‘“Unsafe things like youth and jazz”: Beaulieu Jazz Festivals (1956-61),
and the origins of pop festival culture in Britain’, in Remembering Woodstock, ed. Andy
Bennett (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004): 90-110.
McKay, George, Circular Breathing: The Cultural Politics of Jazz in Britain. Durham:
Duke University Press, 2005.
Mead, Steve. 2015. Telephone interview with Emma Webster, 6 January.
Medbøe, Haeftor, ‘The promoter as cultural conduit: between jazz and a hard place’, Jazz
28
THE ROLE OF THE FESTIVAL PRODUCER IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF JAZZ IN EUROPE
Talks 1st University of Aveiro jazz conference, November 2013, Aveiro PT, 2013.
Payne, Julia and Adam Jeanes, ‘Mapping’ and ‘Gapping’ the Current International Music
Infrastructure in England. London: Arts Council England, 2010.
Rubie, Steve. 2016. Interview with Emma Webster, 606 Club, London, 16 May.
Serious, Arts Council England year-end report 2013-14. Unpublished document, 2014.
Spicer, Dan, ‘Collateral Damage: Dan Spicer on the corporatisation of jazz’, The Wire, December 2013, issue 359. Accessed 13-Jul-16. http://www.thewire.co.uk/in-writing/collateraldamage/p=10355
Tackley, Catherine and Peter J. Martin, ‘Historical overview of the development of jazz in
Britain’, in Historical Overviews of Five Partner Countries, Rhythm Changes (Graz, Austria: Institute for Jazz Research, 2013): 3-28. Accessed 18-Dec-15.
http://www.rhythmchanges.net/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/Historical-Report-WEBSITE.pdf
Thomas, Andy, ‘LIVE REPORT: London Jazz Festival, The Quietus, 23 November 2012.
Accessed 11-Jul-16. http://thequietus.com/articles/10763-london-jazz-festival-review
Washburne, Christopher, ‘Jazz re-bordered: cultural policy in Danish jazz’. Jazz Perspectives 4, no. 2 (2010): 121-155
Webster and McKay. 2015. ‘The impact of (jazz) festivals: An Arts and Humanities Research Council-funded research report’. Jazz Research Journal 9, no 2: 169-193.
Webster, Emma. Promoting Live Music: A Behind-the-Scenes Ethnography, PhD thesis,
University of Glasgow, 2011.
Whitaker, Claire. 2016. Interview with Emma Webser, London, 21 April.
Suggested Citation
Webster, E. (2017) The Role of the Festival Producer in the Development of Jazz, in
Medbøe, H., Moir, Z., and Atton, C. (eds), Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe,
Edinburgh, Continental Drift Publishing, 17–29.
Contributor Details
Emma Webster was the Research Associate at the University of East Anglia in 2015-16 on
the one-year AHRC Connected Communities-funded project, the Impact of Festivals, with
Professor George McKay, in collaboration with the EFG London Jazz Festival. She is a
co-founder and co-Director of Live Music Exchange, a hub for anyone interested in live
music research, and is a co-author on a three-part history of live music in Britain, as well
29
as co-authoring the Edinburgh live music census report and the Association of Independent
Festivals’ six-year report. Emma received her doctorate from the University of Glasgow in
2011; her research was a study of live music promotion in the UK, and her field of interest
is live music, festivals, and cultural policy. Prior to returning to academia, Emma worked
professionally for eight years in music in a variety of roles and genres including opera,
‘world’ music, acid techno, festivals and digital distribution.
3
CULTURAL FACTORIES AND THE
CONTEMPORARY PRODUCTION LINE
Petter Frost Fadnes
Introduction
I chose to call the following text an ethnographic reflection. The research is participatory,
informal, subjective and experiential, and could be labelled artistic research in certain circles; I attempt to contextualise such inside-view-reflections in a wider (more objective)
context through merging the performance of improvised music with its ‘in situ’, real time
physical space. The music and its space is here viewed as one symbiotic entity. Call it
“musicking” (Small, 1998) if you like, emphasising “what people do” in such a space. In
my reflections, I look at what crucial factors actually impact “what people do” in a performance space. For the improvising musician, Windsor and de Bézenac (2012) utilize
affordances to describe what actually guides action (in other words what makes improvisers play what they play). This is close to phenomenological thinking (Clifton, 1983; Frost
Fadnes, 2004), where context – in the widest sense – is key to what Clifton would refer to
as ‘fields of action’, and the subject’s constant interaction with the musical object within
a specific setting. Indeed, in Merleau-Ponty’s words it is “from the subjectivity of each
of us that each one projects this ‘one and only’ world” (2003, 415). Here, the room itself
guides the improvisational action; where such a room is both a physical, acoustic performance space, but also as an analogy for creative structures (Frost Fadnes 2004; Melford
2000). Therefore, and with regards to the following text, I will attempt to describe this
Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe.
Continental Drift Publishing - Copyright Retained by Individual Authors c 2017
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CULTURAL FACTORIES AND THE CONTEMPORARY PRODUCTION LINE
union between space and its improvisational practices, and, furthermore, to the best of my
abilities exemplify this union through both the phenomenon of ‘cultural factories’ as well
as the ‘contemporary production’ of such factories.
In fact, with regards to ‘cultural production’, I loosely base my ideas on my experiences
performing experimental, electroacoustic improvised music with the Anglo/Norwegian trio
The Geordie Approach (TGA). To briefly present TGA in the words of our guitarist Chris
Sharkey, the trio’s identity is based more on “smashing up genre” than it is working within
established ‘boundaries’ such as free-jazz, free improvisation or electronica. Furthermore,
TGA has over the years found particular ‘solace’ in the dark pits of the underground scene
and its variety of curious, idiosyncratic spaces, and I am fascinated how these spaces keep
impacting (interfering, steering?) our music. In addition to Sharkey, the band is Ståle
Birkeland on drums and myself on saxophone, and the trio has over the years developed
an approach (. . . ) and a sound where improvisation and electronics (electro-acoustic manipulation) are merged with more commercial expressions such as dance, punk, pop/rock
etc.1 I suppose we build our identity on a form of inclusive improvisation: an eclectic
laissez-faire thinking where we allow ourselves the liberty to access all available and indoctrinated musical resources; e.g. sources emerging from memories, experiences, muscle
skills, mods, habits etc. In other words, the cultural production I keep referring to is partly
my own; with respect to the factory spaces in question, I am the worker’s point of view,
and use this as basis for my analysis (safe to say I am informed by my production).
The spaces in question are bound together through overlapping characteristics and subcultural traits, fittingly gathered under the descriptive terminology of ‘cultural factories’.
This widely used labelling term is not uncanny in origin, but is rather derived from a
common sense of industrial identity – albeit where idiosyncrasy and difference are part
of such an identity. Through the experiences of TGA as a case, the cultural factory represents a reciprocal space capable of impacting all participating parties, and where the
production line may not be separated from its rustic, industrial context and subcultural belonging. Subsequently this text will deal with the particular fusion between improvised
music and cultural factories, and how TGA maneuvered and negotiated the performance
based-, cultural- and political aspects of these spaces; exemplified by a variety of venues;
from an old (still functional) train station (Stanica, Slovakia) to an abandoned tobacco factory (Tabacka, Slovakia), via a long closed brewery (Tou Scene, Norway). I have chosen
to categorize my reflections under the headings workshops (the industrial space), cultural
contexts (and the sociopolitical view), and finally, performing space (interaction between
space and performance).
1 Listen
to The Geordie Approach (2013), Inatween. (CD) France: Bruce’s Fingers, BF 116. And, The Geordie
Approach (2008), Why Eye. (Vinyl) France: Bruce’s Fingers, BF 68.
33
Figure 3.1
Figure 3.2
Fadnes)
Former brewery Tou Scene, Stavanger, Norway. (Photo: P. Frost Fadnes)
Outside Stanica, an in-use train station, Žilina-Záriečie, Slovakia (Photo: P. Frost.
34
CULTURAL FACTORIES AND THE CONTEMPORARY PRODUCTION LINE
Background
Umberto Eco explains how a “hypothetical Stone Age man” discovers the usage of “a
cave” and its sheltering effect “as the beginning of an inside space” as opposed to outside
in the “wind and rain”. Furthermore, “at the second cave he tries, the idea of that cave is
soon replaced by the idea of cave tout court – a model, a type, something that does not
exist concretely but on the basis of which he can recognize a certain context of phenomena
as ‘cave’” (1999, 183). There are many aspects of this I could comment on: Ideas about
familiarity to context, skills, and aesthetics, in addition to identity creation- and identity
affirmation and how improvisers are masters at manoeuvring between inside and outside
structure (e.g. harmonic sequences or canonised genres).
In addition, in seeing performance and space as a union – and a symbiotic entity – we
also underline how improvised music is site-specific. By its very nature, improvised music
is linked to its space by constituting a ‘there and then’ occurrence unique to time and place.
The ‘cave’ therefore covers both the idea of space created in our minds as performers, as
well as the physical space (the room) we actually perform. And, in addition, the two do not
really separate. Improvisation is a live art, it takes place in real space, and the impression
of that space (in fact all the impact factors of that particular situation in itself) informs our
improvisational choices.
Improvisers know this – and cherish the moment – where the term site-specificity (see
e.g. Kaye 2008, 3/46) might be more accurate. Site-specificity is about “the incursion
of performance”, and strategies “which work against the assumptions and stabilities of site
and location” (Kaye 2008, 3). Improvising musicians, by this assumption, not only interact
with space, but create new space through their ‘incursion’ of music – subsequently, forming an intimate relationship to their performance space (their ‘cave’). Such a relationship
is transferrable to architectonic thinking, where a terminology of improvisational architecture (see Frost Fadnes 2004) brings the concept of site-specificity further, representing the
sum of all structural devises improvisers work within at any given time. Improvisational
architecture represents all impact factors, everything that makes musicians play what they
play: from the specific room (concert hall or cave) to the audience (forms of feed-back
loops) and compositional structures (including genre, difficulty, rhythmic/melodic content
etc.). Indeed, in seeing cultural factories as influential impact factors for its performers,
I like to highlight how the room (literally) holds the basis of an improvisational performance – ranging from the specific acoustics (dry or reverberant), to the practical (stage
size, light, technical specifications), to the inspirational (how the room looks and feels).
The room also facilitates collectiveness by sheltering the musicians and audience together
under one roof. The room is the common denominator between all the participants, and
this communal experience consists of an interaction based on a complex process of feedback loops guiding the improvisational output. The specific performance situation is, in
this light, a phenomenological reading (Frost Fadnes 2004; Clifton 1983; Merleau-Ponty
2003), in effect asserting the individual musician’s experiential dimension as the instigator of the improvisational output. Ideally, each and every member of the audience goes
through a similar process; and considering the individual “body” in the room (on stage and
off), Clifton poignantly writes
...music is the actualization of the possibility of any sound whatever to present to some
human being a meaning which he experiences with his body – that is to say, with his
mind, his feelings, his senses, his will, and his metabolism (1983, 1).
35
Cultural factories
The phenomenon of derelict and abandoned factories attracting the underground arts scenes
is widespread within European cultural life. And it is fascinating to notice how local
councils, national funding agencies and the EU are directing funding towards these types of
venues, often justified within a large spectre of cultural policies ranging from arts funding
(local sustainability), regeneration (gentrification) and (re-)branding (cultural capital and
image building).
From a musician’s point of view, performing in such spaces is a curious experience,
often encountering a whole new set of expectations, norms and codes outside the established divisions of musical genre. For improvised music this has the capacity to fuel new
musical outcomes, as musicians are able to work outside the restrictions often felt in for
example a jazz club. The venues (or centres) here referred to as cultural factories fall into
a relatively new breed of European performance spaces, often self-labelled under headings
such as Cultural Factory, Independent Cultural Centre, Independent Culture Scene, Centre
for contemporary art, Artist Collective (some of these sound more elegant in their native
language, the Norwegian kulturfabrikk or the Slovakian kultúrny uzol (both meaning Cultural Factory)). Although varied in look and feel, as well as how they are organized, the
term Cultural Factory (emphasis factory) is poignantly used; particularly, as most are abandoned industrial-, commercial or public spaces – like a factory, a train station or a brewery.
Many of the cultural centres utilize the industrial connection as part of their image, marketing and public identity. Former brewery Tou Scene (Stavanger, NO) has kept the work
slogan over the front door; “Arbeidsglæde er Livsglæde” (Happiness at work, is happiness
in life). Apparently the original brewery workers detested the sign – claiming its unfitting
likeness to Auschwitz’ gate with the slogan “Arbeit Macht Frei” (“Work Sets You Free”)
– whilst now it is a well-liked reminder of the joys of cultural production. There are also
curiously many breweries and tobacco factories-come-art-spaces. Whether or not artistic
nostalgia towards the underground imagery of tobacco and alcohol (?), they do tend to
keep the original description as part their brand name: kulturbryggeri (NO), kulturbrauerei
(GE), tabacka (SK) or la tabacalera (SP). Other art-spaces keep the word factory as crucial
part of their brand and identity; like Blaue Fabrik (Dresden, DE), Werk-2 (kulturfabrik,
Leibzig, DE), Kulturfabrik (Luxenbourg), Korjaamo Culture Factory (Helsinki, FI), Fabryka Sztuki (art factory, Lodz, PL), and, the slightly more curious example Kulturmejeriet
(Culure Dairy) in Lund (SWE).
TGA found its way into the vast network of independent venues across Europe through
the organization Trans Europe Halles (TEH), which is “a Europe based network of cultural centres initiated by citizens and artists” (the.net). The organization is run from Lund
in Sweden and has 61 member-venues across 27 European countries. According to their
website, their ”mission is to strengthen the sustainable development of non-governmental
cultural centres and encourage new initiatives by connecting, supporting and promoting
them” (teh.net). A more local example is the Slovakian network Anténa, which “is a
network of organisations and centres actively involved in the area of independent contemporary art and culture in Slovakia” (antenanet.sk). A common thread is that through a
process of post-industrial closures and general neglect, these spaces have often been empty
for years, sometimes decades; and are given a new lease of life through artistic- or arts regeneration. Artists move in, take over and make this their place of work. Ownership is
therefore another key word in describing the dialogue between the rustic factory space and
its inhabitants. Subgroups within the cultural factory (for example a local music collective)
take control over all chains of music production, generating complete ownership over the
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CULTURAL FACTORIES AND THE CONTEMPORARY PRODUCTION LINE
musical outcome – often bypassing commercial ‘filters’ and expectations (see Frost Fadnes
2015). This chain of events moves from mundane practicalities through to the performance
itself. The musicians are involved in planning, funding and marketing at the former stage,
through to preparing, rehearsing and performing at the latter-. They might even recruit
most of their audience from within their own collective, revealing a production cycle that
is relatively self-sustained. For us as visiting musicians this means that we more often
than not meet volunteers who are often artists and musicians themselves. The interaction
between us is effective networking between dispersed arts scenes, setting up a platform for
informal meetings which would not otherwise take place. A good example to this is when
TGA finished playing the venue A4, “space of contemporary culture” (Bratislava, SK).
While packing down our gear a group of local contemporary composers started playing
their music through the PA for us to hear. Subsequently, within the 30minute pack-down,
we had heard a cross-section of the ‘happening’ contemporary music in Bratislava and met
many of the relevant composers – a wholly professionalized structure would not necessarily facilitate such impromptu meetings.
Workshops
There is a logic to how the experimental arts are drawn towards the rustic and hard grind
production environments of derelict factories. Although Tou Scene is a well kitted out
venue, with suitable technical infrastructure, the centre has kept its rusty pipes, old wires
and peeling paint as both an important reminder of its past history, as well as a sign of
opposition to the clean surroundings of the local concert hall and its ‘high art’ content. For
an underground scene used to rustic, ad hoc surroundings , peeling paint is more ‘homely’
than the expensive oak panelling and soft seating of the local concert hall.2
In fact, the factory (or the nostalgic idea factory) prevails as production facility, albeit
in a context where the tangible outcome is an artefact (as opposed to merely consumer
commodities; beer and cigarettes). Taking this further, the industrial space radiates more
empathy towards the factory worker than the realms of high art – and as such the factory
becomes the artists’ retreat from bourgeois sophistication. Indeed, the space function as a
haven for the local underground scene, and gives its inhabitants a sense of residential control. This indigenous control over the space and its content is thereby essential to forming
an environment in which it feels safe to indulge in creative experimentalism. Without this
sense of safety, creative experimentalism is hampered by self-censorship and conformity to
established norms and expectations. In such an atmosphere, and through the symbolism of
Lund-based Kulturmejeriet/Cultural Dairy, one cannot help but to suggest that art is truly
flowing like milk.
The semantic meaning of workshop is also a poignant example; musical, dance or theatre workshops have a tangible, practical outcome derived from hard work; grind, muscles
and sweat equal to any metal or wood workshop. In addition, a workshop symbolises cooperative work, togetherness and community – working hard towards a common cause and
building artefacts as a team. Indeed, the process of artistic creation is commonly described
as production; dance, film, and music production signifies the long and hard process involved. Finally, a finished – processed – beautiful artefact reveals itself at the end of the
assembly line. A great many of the cultural centres utilize the industrial connection as
2 For
example, the contrast between Tou Scene and the Stavanger Concert Hall (opened in 2012) is striking.
37
part of their image, marketing and public identity. Les Halles3 in Brussels explains how
the buildings used to be the “old covered Sainte Marie market”, and how it is “handsome,
powerful, nostalgic and marked by its own history”. Equally, Budapestian, Bakelit Multi
Art Center4 explains how the “area was originally use in the early 1900’s manufacturing war related products”, and how it “developed into spinning factory for textile workers
(sic)”. Italian, Lecce-based Manifatture Knos5 “is a constantly developing cultural and
social experiment born from the restoration of an old engineering workers’ training school
that was abandoned for years”. And, finally, Moscowian Proekt Fabrika “is a multidisciplinary cultural centre founded in 2004 at the premises of the Technical Paper Factory
“October””.
Figure 3.3 Tou Scene, Stavanger, Norway); \Arbeidsglæde er Livsglæde"/Happiness at work, is
happiness in life (Photo: P. Frost Fadnes)
The connection between the space and its performers forms an essential bond and a
co-dependent relationship between the space and its art; and a valid argument can be made
that the development of a venue such as this is a large scale, collective public art statement.
The main argument being that it is hard to separate the space from its production. When
Norwegian, Stavanger-based Tou Scene opened their doors in 2001 to an audience, they
initiated their pioneering productions in what was still more a factory space than a venue,
and they did this under the banner “Site Under Construction”6 – a nuanced duality between
constructing a public base for the arts, in addition to constructing space which is art in itself.
Relevant to this discussion, Patricia Phillips says about the phenomenon of public art:
3 www.halles.be
4 www.bakelitstudio.hu
5 www.manifattureknos.org
6 As
a reminder to local politicians (and their unfulfilled promises) their ten-year anniversary was amply named
“Still Under Construction”
38
CULTURAL FACTORIES AND THE CONTEMPORARY PRODUCTION LINE
It is a challenge to determine how to define and defend something that seems to be constantly changing, dispersing, and disappearing – seemingly moving from a solid to a fluid
space (2003, 123).
Street art comes to mind, and how speculative collectors on one hand are chiselling
Banksys off the streets of London, and on the other, a Logan Hicks mural on a shopping
centre wall in Stavanger (NO) was close to being painted over when the centre decided
to retouch its façade. The art is indeed fluid, moving from one meaning to another; from
crude tagging to priceless, from recognized art to merely a shopping centre wall. Seeing
cultural factories as public art, we also see their predicament in securing recognition (and
funding) on par concert halls or art museums. . . According to Phillips (2003, 131), “Public
art is art when it encourages and expedites connections between the private and the public,
the intimate place and the municipal space, the body and the community.” Indeed, a good
example is the Slovakian venue Stanica, in the city of Žilina-Záriečie. Based in and around
a still functioning train station – the building is per definition a public space. Although
the buildings themselves are not “dispersing” or “disappearing”, the content often is. The
art and the artistic process is “fluid”, and it is exactly this fluidity that makes it such an
attractive space for the progressive art scene. City development and policymakers are of
course not idle to any such development where old, abandoned spaces show potential for
re-use (and prospects of gentrification). And in such a context, Phillips is completely right
by claiming that “defending” such fleeting moments of great art is particularly difficult.
The cultural policy of an expanding city is often at odds with the wishes of their local art
scene. The fight is often posited as a dualist state of construction, and a corporate-political
justification of a solid outcome – constructed artefacts as opposed to ‘merely’ constructing
meaning.
Bringing the focus back to performers and their way of negotiating meaning, this works
on different levels depending on the relationship performers have with the venue in question (e.g. regular, local musicians versus international visitors). Indeed, the cultural factories do not merely house their local art scene; many of them have a relatively healthy
influx of national and international artists as part of their yearly bookings. Incoming artists
engage with the venue from a more or less neutral, unprejudiced point of view; in one way
visiting musicians are spectators of a public art statement in situ. But at the same time they
engage and negotiate the meaning of the art and the space through their own art – through
their own music. This negotiation is, in Phillips’ words “about navigation, connection –
moving to a fruitful, animating idea of common purpose” (2003, 133). Musicians negotiated the space as any spectator and participator to a public event, but have the added luxury
of engagement with a real and tangible outcome.
The cultural context of the venue
Smith (2005, 75) writes, “gentrification is the product of local housing markets”, and continues by criticizing our positivistic view of the whole gentrification process; how we tend
to celebrate the regeneration of derelict areas, forgetting how a spiralling housing-marked
tends to exclude both local businesses as well as poorer layers of the population (the working classes). The advocators of city regeneration know very well how the first wave of
gentrification often comes through the creative masses. In areas like Kreutzberg in Berlin,
or parts of New York and London, musicians and artists move in and establish a working environment (galleries, venues and studios) and super-hip islands of alternative living
within the city. A few years later young generations of trendy and money strong profes-
39
sionals start moving in. Groups, which Smith would call a niche of the middle class –
money strong, but also with a high cultural capital (avid users of the arts). Culture is now
an ‘asset’, both as in the culture of human interaction through everyday living, but also
as in the “active engagement in cultural activity” (Evans & Foord 2003, 167). The result
is that rent soars and the cultural instigators – artists and musicians – are rapidly prized
out of the area. Simultaneously, local agents, entrepreneurs and small businesses move
inn, establishing ‘luxury housing’ (in ex-factory spaces), trendy bars and restaurants. This,
what Harvey poignantly (1985, 202) calls shifting from “a ‘supply side urbanization’ to a
‘demand-side’ urbanization”. New availability of ‘supply’ is often priced beyond the indigenous social layers of the locals; and in a rapidly rising housing marked, this adds up to
what Smith (1996, 114) calls a process of cultural and social differentiation. The shifts in
culture is moving between old trodden layers of the classes, where cultural capital and real
capital do not sit well together in the same part of town.
With a “rise of bourgeois modernity” (Smith 1999, 34) – hip cafés and designer baby
prams – the factory space venues are left with a curious predicament. In all likelihood
the space was established during the period of the artist-invasion, often even started by the
artists themselves. As a business though, the venue is probably dependent on audiences
outside the circles of artists, and welcome the trendy, money strong audiences moving
into its neighbourhood. However, the venues are also aware of the fact that they need the
artists, need their art and their music, and their creative input in developing new spaces,
in addition to being dependant on their voluntary work. The artists are the hub and the
heart of the venue, and although incoming money strong professionals may be the perfect
‘punters’, the two do not necessarily stay in the same area for very long – simply due to
the forces of the market. The time-span they do coincide is according to Smith (1996:
198) the “honeymoon between art and gentrification”, but how a continuing effect is a
progressively blunt avant-garde edge of artistic output; about New York’s SoHo he says
“once progressive but now utterly gentrified”.
Studies on event management talk about niche-based cultural consumerism (Andersson et al, 2012), and it seems obvious that cultural factories belong in a niche segment of
cultural events. The audience does however seem rather heterogeneous in nature, where
the reasons for attending are probably many faceted and complex to categorize. Head of
booking at Tabacka (SK), Lukas Berberich, pointed out to me regarding their audience
demography: “main age groups” are “16-25” (“basically students”) and “25-40” (“well
educated”), “with better economic and social status” than “the average in Slovakia”. Director of Tou Scene (NO), Per Arne Alstad, emphasizes how children now constitute one
of their biggest audience groups (mainly through promoting family concerts), and whilst
16-20 year olds are poorly represented at Tou Scene, their main age group is the more
established 25-50 year olds. Alstad also points out how their users are above average in
education and socioeconomic status. Although both Berberich and Alstad underline how
this is “their experience” more than based on scientific surveys, it does emphasize my own
impression that cultural factories vary widely both in user groups, and to what layers of the
population they cater for in their programming.
Although traditional class barriers are fading across Europe, it is still interesting to note
the absence of a clear and substantial ‘working class’ presence amongst both Tou Scene
and Tabacka’s audiences. Interestingly, Alstad points out how the older audience groups
connect well with the preserved ‘industrial’ parts of the complex, whilst younger audiences
tend to dislike e.g. how the main entrance leads through the old beer fermentation tank.
Where the architects saw this as a way of stepping straight into Tou Scene’s industrial
legacy, younger audiences find it an inconvenient detour towards their awaiting concert.
40
CULTURAL FACTORIES AND THE CONTEMPORARY PRODUCTION LINE
Figure 3.4 The main entrance runs through the old beer fermentation tank at Tou Scene, Stavanger,
Norway (Photo: P. Frost Fadnes)
On the other hand, and for the audiences connecting well with industrial nostalgia (which
in Slovakia include younger groups), perhaps this is more about working-class fetishisation. Parallel to Harlem Renaissance ‘slumming’, this seems familiar to how the New York
white middle class visited the exhilaration of the Cotton Club as a diversion to ‘Victorian’
middle class life. Equally, it could also be about young generations turning their backs
on commercial urban values, and seeing stripped down, rustic venues as a fresh antidote
to consumerist pressures. With close to 50% of Spanish youth out of work, the simplistic (but creative) surroundings of for example the vast, Madrid-based cultural factory La
Tabacalera makes sense as a free haven to the unaffordable city high-street. Here, the local
variance of cultural factory users is well summed up in how “leisure activities are related
more to life-style than life cycle changes, resulting in a heterogeneous demographic profile of attendees” (Gyimóthy 2012, 25). Taking this further, whether ‘underground’ and
subcultural is the correct label is questionable, especially by realising how some of these
venues form a well-liked and popular part of their city cultural scene. In fact, a 2012 study
on cultural consumerism by the Stavanger City Council7 showed that 5% of the local population attended the month-long summer festival organised at Tou Scene, called Tou Camp.
This is quite a staggering amount when viewing the program consisting of an extremely
eclectic mix of contemporary genres (music, dance, theatre, performance art etc.). Perhaps
this is more about clever branding of the underground more than it actually constitutes the
underground scene per se?
7
www.stavanger.kommune.no, “Kulturinteresse og kulturaktivitet på Nord-Jæren 2012”
41
Performance Space
Over the years TGA has played in an array of venues, ranging from concert halls, to jazz
clubs, bars, libraries and schools, but has a strong affinity to the cultural factory type of
venue. Somehow these venues seem to tap into the creative collectiveness in a particularly
effective manner – in other words, the music played at these venues we tend to rate highly
in hindsight. The question is why? A possible answer might lay in the context between
TGA’s use of completely open improvisational structures (flexible and open to influence)
and the plasticity- and playroom-effect of the space. Indeed, the experiential process in
playing a cultural factory equals physically stepping into a large tangible artefact. Once
inside, performers start the intriguing exploration of making sense of the space – and in a
sense attempt to understand its purpose. This will include a whole range of issues from the
architectural layout (acoustics and light) and sound system (engineer and equipment) to
the more esoteric feel of the space (ambience, vibe); all feeding into the overall reading of
the surroundings. This negotiation is therefore a complex process of mixing the practical
and physical with the inspirational and esoteric, which outcome is stepping out on stage
and playing a direct reaction to the circumstances. The cultural factory is intriguing because it adds multiple layers to this process, musicians performing directly to the artistic
statement of both the building and its content. Equal to improvising music to a silent film,
a theatre-play or a dance performance, musicians create a connection to the space and respond accordingly. The extent to how and what triggers particular music in such a setting
is often hard to grasp, and the factors at play are often fleeting in nature. One tangible and
crucial layer is nevertheless the human social interaction between performers and venue
staff and audience, and how the musicians engage with the sense of community in each of
the venues. Indeed, I will argue that the improvisational process starts with the very first
engagement with the venue, and that the negotiation is as complex, multidimensional and
intriguing as the space and its community allows for.
Umberto Eco underlines our inherent abilities to recognize familiar space and, importantly, also hints at our ability to recognize its qualities, which in turn sets in motion a
particular interaction with the space in question. That interaction fuels much of our improvisational conduct – the flexibility of improvisation perfectly matching the infinite possibilities of space. Nachmanovitch underlines this conduct by claiming: “Acts are pulled
from their normal context into the special context of play. Often we establish a protected
setting or play-space . . . ” (1990, 42). Further on from this, Thomas Clifton says:
In discussing the mutual contribution made by the experiencing subject and musical object being experienced, we are encouraged to think of space and spatial relations not as
properties of objects, but as fields of action for a subject (1983, 70).
This way, music may be viewed as “fields of action” for an individual construction of
musical space based on a subject’s listening experience, and – rather importantly – this
individual space may inhabit profound aesthetic values beyond merely the organization of
spatial order. For the listener, or what Clifton sees as the “experiencing subject”, the “musical object” is presented by a juxtaposition of “spatial relations”, which surmise meaning
and form through individual experience of the music. Thus, borrowing the words of Gaston
Bachelard, the creators of music “write a room” (see 1994, 3-37) for the listener. Although
this aural ‘architectonic’ creation may take rather personal shapes in the individual mind,
it is based nevertheless on the sonic material of a particular piece of music. Here, read the
words of architect Le Corbusier in the context of music:
42
CULTURAL FACTORIES AND THE CONTEMPORARY PRODUCTION LINE
Figure 3.5 TGA playing Stanica in front of a dancing audience. . . , Žilina-Záriečie, Slovakia
(Photo: Andy Bell)
The architect, by his arrangement of forms, realizes an order which is a pure creation
of his spirit; by forms and shapes he affects our senses to an acute degree and provokes
plastic emotion; by the relationship which he creates he wakes profound echoes in us, he
gives us the measure of an order which we feel to be in accordance with that of our world,
he determines the various movements of our heart and of our understanding; it is then that
we experience the sense of beauty (2001, 1).
Le Corbusier sees the order of forms shape into a framework capable of sheltering the
“movements of our heart”. Not only that, but the framework itself “is a pure creation of
[our] spirit”. Therefore, if we recognize an abstract room constructed by musical impressions, this room is created by artistic emotion that “wakes profound echoes in us” and,
ultimately, becomes a harbour of “beauty”. In this light, music forms a catalyst for emotion, experienced as a physical reality “in accordance with that of our world” – Accrediting
musicians with architectural skills, makes music (in the world of Le Corbusier) as real as
stepping into a building of profound beauty.
Summary and the ‘after-gig hang’
The social process between musicians and the performance space in general is often strangely
haphazard. The romanticised idea of the travelling, exploring musician is often not much
more than a brief encounter with a new country, new city, new venue, new audience – all
wrapped up within a short few hours. The mutual understanding, and engagement between
performer and promoter is initially focused on creating a solid performance, and at the face
of it, this is the extent of engagement involved until moving onto the next venue. Hidden
social factors are however evident. Firstly, the social engagement starts in the booking
43
process, an email exchange starting with an initial, mutual interest, which then expands
to practical arrangements (e.g. technical rider, travel, accommodation, fee). This process
is often long-drawn, and at average 10-20 emails are exchanged between us before all the
details are settled. This email exchange is however a crucial first social interaction, and is
important in creating a mutual social bond between the performers and the venue (turning
up to a venue and meeting the person you’ve communicated with online for months before
the day of the gig, is sometimes like meeting an old friend).
The day of the performance is often extremely intense and hectic, an effort often well
concealed to the paying audience. The musicians create an illusion of merely appearing on
stage, and the long gruelling process behind that moment is hidden. In 2012 TGA played a
string of seven cultural factories back to back in Slovakia. This is a relatively large country
in square kilometres, and seven cultural factories involved a total driving distance of 2541
kilometres covering most of the country from vest to east and back. Long days driving
equal a shorter engagement with the venue, meaning a hectic time schedule of moving
straight to sound check after arriving, short rest (if lucky), and then play the concert itself.
There are however still many nuances in how at ease and comfortable we feel at the point
of going on stage to perform, and many of these factors have been pre-decided in the few,
brief hours beforehand. Aspects such as whether the venue has prepared well and supplied
the right gear for us, or if the in-house technician is experienced and in control, whether
or not the staff seem exited or not to have us play, whether or not they expect an audience
– all play into the mental energy you bring on stage as a musician. The point is that
social engagement – from brief encounters and ‘after-gig hangs’ to lasting friendships –
are important impact factors towards what music is being played. As an example, a tired
end-of-tour TGA was approached during our post-gig meal at Stanica (Žilina-Záriečie, SK)
first by one, then by many of their audience members and venue-staff eager to talk about
the concert. At first reluctant (I just wanted to sleep), we got more and more involved in
an engaging (slightly schnapps fuelled) conversation that lasted well into the night.
In summary therefore, the use of squats, derelict buildings and D.I.Y. locations is not
a new thing for the underground art scene. It is however exciting to see how these places
are increasingly getting organised and are cooperating on an international level (mainly
due to the ease of online communication), which also makes these venues available for
international musicians on a totally different scale. The exchange between performers and
venues in such a light is a fascinating topic – where, from a musician’s point of view – the
venues in themselves provide the improvising musicians with unique cultural- and creative
input. As an advice to researchers, policymakers and educators, I would say delve into the
subcultural layers of our cities factory spaces, and you’ll find how new forms of interaction
between people, groups, art, music and architecture are cooking up whole new forms of
urban expressions.
44
CULTURAL FACTORIES AND THE CONTEMPORARY PRODUCTION LINE
Figure 3.6
Deep in conversation at Stanica, Žilina-Záriečie, Slovakia (Photo: P. Frost Fadnes)
References
Bachelard, Gaston. 1994. The Poetics of Space – The Classic Look at How We Experience
Intimate Places (Boston: Beacon Press, 1958, translated by Maria Jolas).
Clifton, Thomas. 1983. Music as Heard – A Study in Applied Phenomenology. London:
Yale University Press.
Deutsche, Rosalyn & Cara Gendel Ryan. 1984. “The fine art of gentrification”. October,
Vol 31: 91-111.
Eco, Umberto. 1999. “Function and Sign: The Semiotics of Architecture”. In Rethinking Architecture – A Reader in Cultural Theory, edited by Neil Leach, 182-202. London:
Routledge.
Evans, Graeme & Jo Foord. 2003. In Urban Futures: Critical Commentaries on Shaping
the City, edited by Malcolm Miles and Tim Hall, 167-181. London: Routledge.
Frost Fadnes, Petter. 2015. “Improvisational Conduct and Case Studies from the Margins: And Insider’s View on Negotiating the Collective”. In The Cultural Politics of Jazz
Collectives – This is Our Music, edited by Nicholas Gebhardt & Tony Whyton. London:
45
Routledge.
Frost Fadnes, Petter. “Improvisational Architecture”. University of Leeds. 2004.
Gyimóthu, Szilvia. 2012. “Casual Observers, Connoisseurs and Experimentalists: A Conceptual Exploration of Niche Festival Visitors”. In Festival and Event Management in
Nordic Countries, edited by Andersson, Tommy D., Donald Getz, Reidar J. Mykletun.
New York: Routledge.
Harvey, David. 1985. The Urbanization of Capital: Studies in the History and Theory of
Capitalist Urbanization. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.
Kaye, Nick. 2008 ed. Site-specific Art: Performance, Place and Documentation. London:
Routledge.
Le Corbusier. 2001. Towards a New Architecture (Oxford: Architectural Press, 1923,
translated by Frederick Etchells.
Le Corbusier. 1998. “Dancing in the Dark – The inscription of blackness in Le Corbusier’s Radiant City”. In Places Through the Body, edited by Heidi J. Nast and Steve Pile.
London: Routledge.
Merleau-Ponty, Maurice. 2003. Phenomenology of Perception (London: Routledge. 1941,
translated by Colin Smith).
Melford, Myra. 2000. “Aural Architecture: The Confluence of Freedom.” In Arcana,
edited by John Zorn, 119-135. New York: Granary Books/Hips Road.
Nachmanovitch, Stephen. 1990. Free Play: The Power of Improvisation in Life and the
Arts. New York: G. T. Putnam‘s Sons.
Philips, Patricia. 2003. “Public Art: A Renewable Resource”. In Urban Futures: Critical Commentaries on Shaping the City, edited by Malcolm Miles and Tim Hall, 122-133.
London: Routledge.
Small, Christopher. 1998. Musicking – The Meanings of Performing and Listening.
Hanover: Wesleyan University Press.
Smith, Neil. 2005. The New Urban Frontier: Gentrification and the revanchist city. London: Routledge, 1996.
Windsor, Luke, & Christophe de Bézenac. 2012. “Music and affordances.” Musicae Scientiae 16.1: 102-120.
46
CULTURAL FACTORIES AND THE CONTEMPORARY PRODUCTION LINE
Suggested Citation
Fadnes, P. F. (2017) Culture Factories and the Contemporary Production Line, in Medbøe,
H., Moir, Z., and Atton, C. (eds), Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe, Edinburgh, Continental Drift Publishing, 31–46.
Contributor Details
With a parallel career in performance and academia, Frost Fadnes’ research interest is
centered on improvisational thinking within a practical context, specifically looking at improvisational processes through musical performance. His overall mission is to demystify
improvisational music making, and reveal the musical thought within the performance.
As a saxophone player, Frost Fadnes is active much of the year with The Geordie Approach (UK/NO) – mixing acoustic and electronically manipulated sounds – in addition to
the Stavanger-based collective Kitchen Orchestra, the quartet Mole (UK/FR/NO), and the
trios Target (UK/AU/NO) and Brink (UK/NO).
Frost Fadnes is Associate Professor at The Department of Music and Dance, University
of Stavanger, and former principal investigator for the HERA-funded research project
Rhythm Changes: Jazz Cultures and European Identities.
4
SAMPLING THE PAST: THE ROLE AND
FUNCTION OF VINTAGE MUSIC WITHIN
ELECTRO SWING
Chris Inglis
Over the course of the 21st century so far, and particularly across Europe, a musical genre
known as ‘electro swing’ has emerged. This new and innovative genre takes the vintage
sounds of the original swing era of the 1930s and ‘40s, and pairs it with that of the age
of electronic dance music. The purpose of this paper is to determine specifically why the
artists involved in the genre of electro swing choose to work with vintage samples, and the
distinct implications that working with these samples may have. As Reynolds has argued,
where many eras of the past have had their own individual style, this no longer appears to
be the case today. He sums this point up by stating that:
“Instead of being about itself, the 2000s has been about every other previous decade
happening again all at once: a simultaneity of pop time that abolishes history while nibbling away at the present’s own sense of itself as an era with a distinct identity and feel.”
(Reynolds, 2011: x)
Reynolds makes the point quite clearly that the music of the past appears to be creeping
back into the modern day, however the reasons behind this are difficult to precisely pin
down. Particularly with electro swing, through the use of sampling, a significant amount
of modern music can now largely be described as simply a reinterpretation of already
existent music. In this paper, I will present various explanations for the occurrence of this
phenomenon.
Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe.
Continental Drift Publishing - Copyright Retained by Individual Authors c 2017
47
48
SAMPLING THE PAST: THE ROLE AND FUNCTION OF VINTAGE MUSIC WITHIN ELECTRO SWING
Jazz Rap – Electro Swing’s Predecessor
Whilst it is true that little to no academic work has taken place on the specific genre of
electro swing, or indeed, its partial rebranding as ‘vintage remix’, a genre which has had
considerable research conducted into it is the related genre of jazz rap, concerning artists
such as A Tribe Called Quest, and De La Soul. Of this genre, Williams has stated that
“the fundamental element of hip-hop culture and aesthetics is the overt use of preexisting
material to new ends” (Williams, 2013: 1), and that “borrowing is hip-hop culture’s most
widespread, and arguably most effective, way of celebrating itself” (Williams, 2013: 171).
From these statements, it is clear that each of the samples used in hip-hop music will have
very particular reasons behind their usage, and that the decisions behind this use may hold
distinct implications.
Perhaps surprisingly, of the many reasons given by different authors concerning the
reasons behind the use of vintage influences, the argument that seems to appear the most
is the suggestion that both hip-hop and jazz music emerged from the same traditions and
creative sources. For example, McAdams and Nelson present an interview with Glenn
Bolton – better known as Daddy-O of the jazz rap group Stetsasonic – in which he states
that “jazz is what emanates from what the people are doing in their particular day and time.
I believe that hip-hop is the jazz music of today” (McAdams & Nelson, 1992: 24). This
position is supported by Patel, when stating that jazz rap established “a consummate link
between generations, taking the essence of jazz and the essence of hip hop and showing
they originated from the same black center” (Patel, 2003: 97). Indeed, in listing several
similarities between both genres, Williams includes their “origins as dance music, [that
they] were largely the product of African American urban creativity and innovation, and
[their] shared rhythmic similarities” (Williams, 2013: 52).
Following on from this point, Smith presents an interview with Keith Elam, known as
Guru of the duo Gang Starr, another jazz rap act, who suggests that jazz has been “taken
away, made into some elite, sophisticated music” (Smith, 1994: 88) – almost one of the
‘high arts’, which is very much in opposition to how it would have originally been considered. This point is argued by Lopes, who demonstrates that “The sociologists Howard
Becker (1951) and William Bruce Cameron (1954) found the jazz community to be basically working class without a college education” (Lopes, 2002: 249). With regards to this,
Elam suggests that hip-hop is “bringing jazz back where it belongs” (Smith, 1994: 88).
It is possible that some of these similarities may translate over to electro swing. Just as
the music of the swing era evolved out of the jazz of the 1920s, EDM evolved out of the
hip-hop of the early 1980s, and therefore many of the parallels between both genres will
have persisted.
Several authors however have suggested that this is not in fact the case, and that both
hip-hop and jazz are two distinct, individual genres; the indication of this is that jazz rap’s
sampling of vintage jazz is therefore intended to serve almost as a juxtaposition. For instance, Perchard suggests that the artists working within this genre are “acting with acute
historical consciousness: not because of their closeness to jazz source materials, but precisely because of their distance from them” (Perchard, 2011: 286). This distance between
jazz and rap is backed up with a quote from rapper KRS-One, who states that “my audience, a rap audience, would not have the faintest idea what jazz is supposed to be” (K,
33: 1990). It’s also been suggested by Williams that, as Smith suggests that jazz is now
considered one of the ‘high arts’ of today’s society, hip-hop’s sampling of it is perhaps an
attempt to enter that same world. As he describes, “rap music’s borrowing from jazz was
49
a key gesture in the defining of jazz rap as a sophisticated alternative, as part of hip-hop’s
ongoing struggle for cultural legitimacy (Williams, 2013: 72).
Another suggestion for the use of vintage samples within modern music, is the concept
of ‘retelling the past’. Hip-hop’s sampling of older genres has been described by Potter
as “re-form[ing] the traditions it draws upon” (Potter, 1995: 26), and Perchard describes
the phenomenon that “traditions are invented and cultural memories mobilized at times of
social change or trauma”, drawing parallels with hip-hop’s sampling of older generations’
music by stating that “it is possible to see hip hop’s sampling of older generations’ music as
a similar kind of operation” (Perchard, 2011: 291). Indeed, Burke goes on to describe how
– as the saying goes, ‘history is written by the victors’ – “marginalized cultural groups have
been apt to make more of that cultural memory”, and that “the circulation and reproduction
of memories, often through performative rather than literary acts, constructs oppositional
historical narratives at the same time as it defines a contemporary “us” and “them” ”(Burke,
1997: 54-55). This point is even further made by Rietveld, who states that:
“From an African-American post-colonialist perspective, whilst honouring and recuperating cultural ancestors, cultural history is rewritten every time it is retold in order to
establish a sense of rooted identity for a historically uprooted community.” (Rietveld,
1998: 161)
With regard to this it is certainly possible to see these jazz rap musicians as using vintage music as a way of constructing an alternate history, perhaps more favourable for themselves.
A few additional ideas behind the use of vintage samples have been presented by
Reynolds. For instance, a question he poses is whether “nostalgia [is] stopping our culture’s ability to surge forward, or are we nostalgic precisely because our culture has stopped
moving forward and so we inevitably look back to more momentous and dynamic times”
(Reynolds, 2011: xiv)? Additionally, he also suggests that perhaps we are now using more
and more vintage samples simply for the reasons of ease and accessibility, stating that
“all the sound and imagery and information that used to cost money and physical effort to
obtain is available for free, just a few key and mouse clicks away” (Reynolds, 2011: xxi).
Sampling jazz in electro swing
Within the genre of jazz rap then, there are already a large number of suggestions as to why
these artists may choose to work with vintage samples. Regarding electro swing however,
I was keen to discover whether or not these views were echoed by the practitioners of this
particular style. In order to do this, I contacted a number of different artists working within
the genre, and asked:
“with regards to your music, what do you consider the role and function of using vintage
music to be?”
In considering this question, Nick Hollywood – known within the electro swing world
as a DJ, producer, and for running both the Freshly Squeezed record label, and the ‘White
Mink’ club night – says the following:
“Vintage music is a source of inspiration. That’s pretty much the only real common
ground. Beyond that; in what way it inspires – either via directly sampling – or by simply
providing a musical style template – is completely different from one artist to the next.”
Hollywood’s description of vintage music serving as a source of inspiration for him ties
in with Reynolds’ idea that perhaps our culture has stopped moving forward. In fact, this
50
SAMPLING THE PAST: THE ROLE AND FUNCTION OF VINTAGE MUSIC WITHIN ELECTRO SWING
implication that vintage music is perhaps of a higher quality than much of the music of
today was quite a common theme throughout many of the responses I received.
This suggestion is taken ever further by Per Ebdrup, known for being the DJ behind the
Danish act Swing Republic. Ebdrup states the following:
“Very significant. Many tracks I make in this genre are sample based. The old samples
give a great vibe to the tracks. In those days, only the very best musicians were allowed
to record, because of the expensive technology. So the quality of the artists is high. Lyrics
in 20-30ties are often quite fun which gives the music a happy and light feel.”
Ebdrup’s point that in the swing era “only the very best musicians were allowed to
record”, and his suggestion that therefore “the quality of the artists is high” further backs
up Reynolds’ idea. In fact, in some cases, there even appears to be an air of superiority
within certain electro swing and vintage remix artists, which would seem to stem from this
suggestion that their music is of a higher quality than the majority of modern music.
This position is made evident by the duo Goldfish. As member Dominic Peters states
of their music:
“I think our whole thing is kind of combining the analogue and digital world together. A
lot of dance music’s very sterile and very bright and shiny, and we try and rub in a bit of
dirt, and a bit of analogue warmth, and real instruments, and bring back the life to dance
music.” (Goldfishlive, 2012)
Peters’ suggestion that they are bringing the life back to dance music, suggests that
Goldfish feel that the majority of modern-day can be improved, and that Goldfish’s music
is bringing about this improvement. This suggestion of superiority is summed up perfectly
in the music video for Goldfish’s ‘One Million Views’ (GoldfishLiveVEVO, 2013). Within
this animated video, the members of Goldfish attend a ‘DJ school’ in which caricatures of
various other EDM musicians, such as Skrillex and Deadmau5 are found, simply repeatedly pressing the same button in order to make their respective music. Another character
in the video is a dog who features prominently throughout several of their music videos, in
this case as a professional DJ. As the band notice, this character fails to plug his equipment
in, and plays solitaire on his computer whilst pretending to mix live. By comparison, the
band demonstrates their abilities by performing on live instruments, in addition to electronic mixing.
Another electro swing artist who has explicitly stated his opinion that this genre of
music is of a higher standard than others is the MC HypeManSage. In his track ‘Swingting’
(hypemansage, 2013), in which he raps over the top of producer Kormac’s ‘Wash My
Hands’ (Kormac, 2010), he introduces the track with the following words:
“Now I love all different types of music, it’s true: drum ’n’ bass, I love my dubstep, I love
my grime, a little bit of funky hip-hop, but unfortunately, I’ve just discovered swing, [. . . ]
really, right now I feel like I need to leave other genres behind and just get with this.”
(hypemansage, 2013)
The song also features the lyrics “the first time I heard it, I thought ‘damn, this shit
here’s darn close to perfect’ ”, and concludes with the words “goodbye other genres”,
clearly demonstrating his inclination towards the electro swing style above any other. In
fact, the point made in this song was so strong that he followed it up with yet another
song expressing his love of this style over any other, ‘Zazou’, produced by the French duo
Smokey Joy & The Kid (Smokey Joe & The Kid, 2012).
To return to the artists of whom I contacted myself however, this is not necessarily to
say that they all look down upon regular EDM artists. For example, Michael Rack, known
51
for DJing under the name of Dutty Moonshine (who has in fact worked extensively with
HypeManSage), says the following in response to my question:
“Fun. Just straight fun. Jazz and Swing was an amazing and timeless sound, you could
call it the 1st punk music of it’s day for what it went up against. Slapping vintage samples
onto basslines and dance beats is a sure win.”
Rack’s fondness for “basslines and dance beats” is made perfectly evident here, although it does perhaps seem that he still maintains a preference for vintage music, through
his description of the reasons behind its use as “just straight fun”. The phrase “sure win”
in particular implies some sort of competitive nature between the various genres, in which,
in his opinion, the genre of vintage remix is rated above the rest.
A further reason for the use of vintage samples is given by the German DJ Tobias
Kroschel, known in the electro swing world as Sound Nomaden:
“for me music is timeless, that means if you give vintage music a modern twist or put it
in the right context people will feel it, even if they’re born in a different generation. The
great opportunity of using musical themes or samples from old decades is, that you can
reach people from age of 16-80 years. It is an amazing experience to see these different
generations dancing together on the same music.”
Kroschel’s description of the music as “timeless”, followed immediately by his use of
the terms “vintage” and “modern” is perhaps slightly problematic; however the overall
indication of this response, including his described love of seeing “different generations
dancing together” seems to suggest that he is leaning towards the ‘same tradition’ theory,
in his suggestion that all people and ages can be reached with this style.
Within jazz rap too, this suggestion has been made. To return to Daddy-O of Stetsasonic,
he has stated the following regarding their track ‘Float On’:
“There’s a parent that’s in the living room listening to Joe Sample or Anita Baker and
the kids are in the back listening to Stet, Public Enemy, NWA. . . but the “Float On”
record comes on and all of a sudden there’s a parent saying, “Boy, what you doin’ in my
records?!” – and he’s like “That’s not your record, that’s my record”. . . “Well, I like that
one – that’s one rap record I like!” and they begin to understand each other again. Maybe
an argument starts up “Oh I like the original better” or “They’re just copyin’!” – but the
issue is now the father and son have something in common. It begins to bring them back
together!” (Sangster, 1990: 20)
The idea of using vintage samples to bring different people together would for many
seem a very satisfying one.
A similar point is made by Luca Gatti, who DJs under the name of Dr. Cat, and says
the following:
“I would say the role is a primary one, in that without those vintage samples the tracks
would have a complete different vibe to it, I am not saying the tracks would be better I am
just saying the track would not sound as categorized within the vintage remix domain.
The function is of endless inspirational importance, not only re connect with the past but
springs out in to the future.”
A common question regarding electro swing is whether to regard it as simply a continuation of swing music, and what it has evolved into; or whether it is entirely its own
genre, simply taking influence from the swing era. Whereas a DJ such as Marcus Füreder
– who DJs under the name of Parov Stelar, quite possibly the most successful electro swing
producer worldwide – has definitively stated that “it is called electro swing, not swing. It
has its own right to exist” (Buhre, 2013), from this quote, it would appear that Gatti would
52
SAMPLING THE PAST: THE ROLE AND FUNCTION OF VINTAGE MUSIC WITHIN ELECTRO SWING
take the first view, in that electro swing is what swing has now evolved into. This view is
echoed by Richard Shawcross, known for DJing under the name of C@ in the H@ who
has been quoted as saying that “If I had to define it under a broad umbrella genre, I would
in fact call it Jazz, not Dance music. All dance music, by definition, can be danced to, but
not all Electro Swing music is to be danced to” (Browne, 2014). If indeed, electro swing
can be viewed as simply what swing has now evolved into, then this would certainly tie in
with the ‘same tradition’ theory, as it would indeed be a part of the same music.
A multitude of reasons
By looking at the information presented above, including the various responses from those
deeply involved within the electro swing scene, it is clear that there are a number of different reasons as to why producers may choose to work with vintage samples. The fact
that some of these views are complimentary, whereas others are contrasting leaves room
for much more research to be conducted into this area; but these suggestions will provide
a good starting point in addressing the use of these samples.
For jazz rap specifically, the idea that both genres of music – jazz and hip-hop – come
from the same traditions is certainly an interesting one, and does in fact seem to translate
across to electro swing. As stated, both swing and EDM evolved out of jazz and hiphop respectively, and as a result, there are certainly parallels to be drawn there. However,
the suggestion of a juxtaposition of styles can apply too; this point is made clearly by
Reynolds when stating that “nearly all the most successful mash-ups worked by contrast
and collision” (Reynolds, 2011: 358). Indeed, it does certainly appear to be the case
with some electro swing producers that they are making a conscious attempt to combine
contrasting styles.
A further idea comes with the suggestion that specific artists are interested in ‘retelling
the past’. This is certainly an intriguing idea, and as I’ve presented, has been argued
extensively for the practice of sampling jazz within the hip-hop genre. When drawing
the parallels we have already seen between hip-hop and jazz, and EDM and swing, it is
possible that this suggestion may still apply.
We then come to the suggestion that our culture has stopped moving forward, causing
artists to look backward to more exciting times. Whilst initially appearing questionable,
it’s important to look again at the responses received from the artists themselves. It was a
common theme that the quality of music in the past is of a higher standard than most of
the music today, at least in the mainstream. This would seem to suggest that, if not our
culture has stopped moving forward, then perhaps our range of immediate influences has.
What we do have in today’s culture, which was not available in the past however, is the
significantly higher levels of ease that exist to obtain a large variety of samples. And whilst
it is unlikely that these artists are using vintage samples for reasons of accessibility alone –
they are almost certainly being used entirely for artistic purposes – the role of technology
has ensured that it is now much easier to do this.
As I have suggested, there is perhaps a level of superiority present too, amongst electro
swing and vintage remix artists. This would then of course translate across to the samples
they choose to use. By demonstrating their knowledge and use of obscure and largely
unknown sample sources, these artists are simultaneously presenting to the world their
uniqueness and merit as musicians, on top of their abilities as a producer. Schloss has
described this as a “deeply embedded psychological need to find rare records (Schloss,
2004: 37).
53
And then we have Kroschel’s suggestion that using vintage samples is a way to bring
different generations together. From my own experience doing field work by attending
various electro swing events, I have witnessed many times that this is indeed the case.
A variety of ages and generations is entirely common at these events, and it is not at all
surprising to find people of all ages enjoying this music together.
Conclusion
The final suggestion I have presented is the idea that electro swing is simply the natural
extension of swing music into the modern day. I myself would definitely subscribe to this
theory, and my main argument would be that the primary purpose of jazz music has always
been experimentation.
This point has been made by a number of individuals. For instance, when speaking of
‘avant-garde jazz’, Gridley argues that all styles of jazz “could justify having “avant-garde”
in their title”, as they are all “about innovators rather than imitators” (Gridley, 1992: 139).
Horn makes a similar point, when stating of jazz that “it was the sense it which it broke
with norms that’s gave it sonic individuality”; that “the music’s departure from the norms
of sound, rhythm and timing resulted in another further element of distinctiveness”; and
that “having forged a distinct sonic identity, jazz was able to preserve this identity through
many changes of style” (Horn, 2003: 30). From these definitions of jazz, one could argue
that simply trying to repeat the styles of swing exactly how they would have sounded up to
80 years ago goes almost against the very ideals of jazz music itself.
I will conclude with a quote from producer Hank Shocklee, made in reference to the
majority of modern jazz artists. As he states:
“The new guys who are coming up only mimic what they’ve heard in the past. And jazz
was never like that. It was always an exploration music. It explored new levels, new
sounds, new things. There was never a formula for jazz.” (Dery, 2004: 419)
By bringing in aspects of electronic dance music, electro swing artists are exploring and
experimenting with what they are able to achieve within the genre. The “lack of formula”
found in jazz can still be found within electro swing, and as a result, these artists have set
themselves apart from any other artists simply imitating the original sounds of jazz and
swing. What can certainly be found to be true with electro swing, is that the vast amount
of experimentation indicating the jazz influence has undeniably remained.
References
Browne, G. 2014. ‘The 3 Questions – Part 1’ Jack the Cad.
http://jackthecad.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/the-3-questions-part-1.html (accessed July 2016).
Buhre, J. 2013. An interview with Parov Stelar.
http://electro-swing.com/2013/webzine/interview/an-interview-with-parov-stelar/ (accessed
July 2016).
Burke, P. 1997. Varieties of Cultural History. Cambridge: Polity Press.
54
SAMPLING THE PAST: THE ROLE AND FUNCTION OF VINTAGE MUSIC WITHIN ELECTRO SWING
Dery, M. 2004. ‘Public Enemy: Confrontation’ In: Foreman, M. & Neal, M. A. That’s the
Joint! The Hip-Hop Studies Reader. New York, NY: Routledge.
Freshly Squeezed. 2015. Catalogue. http://freshlysqueezedmusic.com/catalogue.html (accessed July 2016).
Goldfishlive. 2012. Goldfish Outdoor (Official Aftermovie).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i526FcEHeU0 (accessed July 2016).
GoldfishLiveVEVO. 2013. Goldfish – One Million Views ft. John Mani.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5cOAb2mSWU (accessed July 2016).
Gridley, M. C. 1992. Concise Guide to Jazz. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Pearson.
Horn, D. 2003. ‘The identity of jazz’ In Cooke, M. & Horn, D. The Cambridge Companion
to Jazz. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
HypeManSage. 2013. HypeManSage – Swingting
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HOVVVHeZGTA (accessed July 2016).
K, W. 1990. ‘Talking ‘bout Jazz and Rap’ Hip-Hop Connection. August 1990.
Kormac. 2010. Word Play. Scribble Records. (Music CD).
Lopes, P. 2002. The Rise of a Jazz Art World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
McAdams, J. & Nelson, H. 1992. ‘Hip-Hop Puts Fresh Spin on Jazz’ Billboard. 22 August
1992.
Patel, J. 2003. ‘Jungle Brothers: Straight Out the Jungle, Done by the Forces of Nature,
De La Soul: 3 Feet High and Rising, De La Soul Is Dead, Buhloone Mindstate, A Tribe
Called Quest: People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm, The Low End Theory,
Midnight Marauders’ In: Wang, O. Classic Material: The Hip-Hop Album Guide. Toronto:
ECW Press.
Perchard, T. 2011. ‘Hip Hop Samples Jazz: Dynamics of Cultural Memory and Musical
Tradition in the African American 1990s’ American Music. 29 (3).
Potter, R. 1995. Spectacular Vernacular: Hip-Hop and the Politics of Postmodernism. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.
Reynolds, S. 2011. Retromania: Pop Culture’s Addiction to Its Own Past. London: Faber
and Faber.
Rietveld, H. C. 1998. This is Our House: House music, cultural spaces and technologies.
55
Aldershot: Ashgate.
Sangster, A. 1990. ‘Blood, Sweat and No Tears!’ Hip-Hop Connection. July 1990.
56
SAMPLING THE PAST: THE ROLE AND FUNCTION OF VINTAGE MUSIC WITHIN ELECTRO SWING
Schloss, J. G. 2004. Making Beats: The Art of Sample-Based Hip-Hop. Middletown, CT:
Wesleyan University Press.
Smith, D. 1994. ‘Gang Starr: Jazzy Situation’ Vibe. May 1994.
Smokey Joe & The Kid. 2012. The Grand EP. Banzaı̈ Lab. (Music CD).
Williams, J. 2013. Rhymin’ and Stealin’: Musical Borrowing in Hip-Hop. Ann Arbor, MI:
University of Michigan Press.
Suggested Citation
Inglis, C. (2017) Sampling the Past: The role and function of vintage music within electro
swing, in Medbøe, H., Moir, Z., and Atton, C. (eds), Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz
from Europe, Edinburgh, Continental Drift Publishing, 47–56.
Contributor Details
Chris Inglis is a musicologist currently based in Cardiff, whose research explores the emergence and development of the genre of electro swing. After graduating from the BA (Hons)
Music, Technology and Innovation programme at De Montfort University, he completed
the MA Musicology programme at the University of Sheffield. He is currently completing
his PhD at the University of South Wales. His other research interests include punk, and
the art of live performance.
5
50 YEARS OF ACADEMIC JAZZ IN
CENTRAL EUROPE: MUSICOLOGICAL
AND ARTISTIC RESEARCH
PERSPECTIVES IN A CASE STUDY OF
LOCAL JAZZ HISTORY IN GRAZ
Michael Kahr
The rise of jazz as an academic discipline in Europe over the past 50 years is closely
connected to global developments, but also to the evolution of individual host institutions.
This article investigates the history of the two academic institutes for jazz and jazz research
in the context of the local jazz scene in the city of Graz, Austria. By considering the
relevance of past and current artistic processes and resulting sounds to the understanding of
jazz history, the article proposes artistic research as a meaningful approach, in combination
with conventional musicological methods.
Historical overview
The first academic jazz course in Central Europe was offered at Dr. Hoch’s Konservatorium in Frankfurt, Germany from 1928 to 1933, with Hungarian composer Mátyás Seiber
(1905–1960) as its director. The course attracted between nine and fourteen students each
year (Bowers, pp119–166). After WWII other courses were initiated in Germany, including a course begun in 1957 at the Musikhochschule für Musik und Theater Köln and led
by Kurt Edelhagen (1920–1982), and in 1958 at the Akademie Remscheid.1 From the
mid-1960s, academic jazz programs were further advanced at institutes including the Béla
1 For
an overview of the development of jazz education in Germany, including an account of the foundation of the
jazz course at the Hochschule für Musik und Theater in Cologne, see Rolf Sudmann, “Popmusik in Studiengängen
Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe.
Continental Drift Publishing - Copyright Retained by Individual Authors c 2017
57
58
50 YEARS OF ACADEMIC JAZZ IN CENTRAL EUROPE
Bártok Konzervatórium in Budapest and the newly founded Leeds Music Centre in the
UK.2 In 1964 the Institute for Jazz was founded at the Akademie für Musik und darstellende Kunst Graz, now known as the University of Music and Performing Arts. The institute offered a full curriculum and academic degrees in jazz studies.3
Soon, the institute’s work caught the interest of other academic institutions across Europe, as indicated by letters from the presidents of the Sibelius Academy of Music in
Helsinki and the Hochschule für Musik und Theater in Hannover; the initiative in Graz
influenced the foundation of jazz courses in Vienna (1969), Rotterdam (1976), Cologne
(1979) and Hamburg (1985).4 Wouter Turkenburg, Executive President of the International Association of Schools of Jazz (IASJ), has described the jazz institute in Graz as an
‘icebreaker’ in proving the feasibility of a successful jazz education program to academic
institutions in Europe.5
The status of Graz as a center of academic jazz was further advanced in 1969 by the
foundation of the International Society for Jazz Research (IGJ),6 the organization of the
first international jazz research conference, and the initiation of the two publication series
Jazzforschung/Jazz Research and Beiträge zur Jazzforschung/Studies in Jazz Research.7
Fostered by the internationally recognized activities of the IGJ and legal changes regarding the organization of the tertiary education sector in Austria, the Institute for Jazz
Research was established as an independent department in 1971.8
The co-existence and collaboration of a pedagogical/artistic institute for jazz and a scientific institute for jazz research at a single university is still unique in European tertiary
education. Over time, their achievements, and their function as an international hub for the
jazz scene, have influenced local jazz identity and the self-perception of local musicians.
However, some statements by local jazz figures about the institutes seem to have clearly
promotional intent: For instance, Friedrich Körner’s lecture at the first international jazz
deutscher Hochschulen,” in Handbuch Jugend und Musik, ed. Dieter Baacke (Opladen: Leske and Budrich 1998),
457–476.
2 An overview of European jazz education centres in the 1960s is provided by Körner (1969, pp8–14). For
information on the development of the jazz course in Leeds, refer to http://leedswelcome.com/attractions/leedscollege-of-music; also see Tackley & Martin (2013, 22).
3 http://www.kug.ac.at
4 The letter from Taneli Kuustistos, rector of the Sibelius Academy in Helsinki, to Erich Marckhl, president of the
Academy of Music in Graz, dated 16.02.1967, is archived at the library of the University of Music and Performing
Arts, filed under StLA K37 H70, X-32-1967/68. The letter by Richard Jakoby, president of the Hochschule für
Musik in Hannover to Friedrich Körner, chair of the Institute for Jazz in Graz, is simply dated 1970; it can be
found in the University library under StLA K37 H70, X-32 1970/71. Trombonist Erich Kleinschuster, a founding
member of the jazz institute in Graz, was also the founder (in 1969) and first director of the jazz course at the
Vienna Conservatory; see Elisabeth Kolleritsch, “Erich Kleinschuster: Posaunist, Bandleader und Pädagoge,”
Jazzforschung / Jazz Research 33 (2001): 137–154. According to an interview conducted by Loes Rusch with
the Dutch saxophonist Leo van Oostrom on June 14, 2007, an official visit of Oostrom to Graz in the early
1970s – probably among other factors, such as the example of the Berklee College of Music – had considerable
impact on the establishment of the jazz course in Rotterdam; compare Loes Rusch, “Jazzpracticum: Over de
institutionalisering van jazzonderwijs in Nederland,” MA thesis, Amsterdam: University of Amsterdam, 2007.
According to Harald Neuwirth, then head of the Graz jazz institute, trombonist Jiggs Wigham became acquainted
with the institute’s course structure when he appeared as a guest soloist in Graz; Wigham subsequently became
the first director of the jazz course in Cologne in 1979. Finally, Dieter Glawischnig (among others) cites the
significance of the Graz model for Hamburg in Benedix (2003).
5 Turkenburg’s quote emerged in a discussion at the conference ‘Growing Up: Jazz in Europe 1960–1980’ in
Lucerne from November 6–8, 2014. It should, however, be noted that the institute in Graz was clearly modelled
at least partly on the Berklee School of Music (now Berklee College of Music) in Boston, USA.
6 http://www.jazzresearch.org
7 The conference lectures were published in the first issue of Jazzforschung/Jazz Research 1 (1969).
8 https://www.ris.bka.gv.at/Dokumente/BgblPdf/1970 54 0/1970 54 0.pdf
59
research conference in Graz was titled ‘Graz: Zentrum der Jazzforschung’ (Graz: Center
of Jazz Research) – see Körner (1969, pp8-14). Ten years later, the institute is portrayed
by Michael Thiem as ‘one of the best’ respectively ‘the only [one] of its kind’ in his article“Dieter Glawischnig” (1979, 39). In a review of the big band seminars with Peter
Herbolzheimer at the Institute for Jazz, the institute is heralded as ‘the first and still only’
(Semper, 1981: pp21–24). In a recent printed concert schedule for the Institute for Jazz,
the institute is described as ‘one of the oldest and most acclaimed educational institutions
worldwide’(translated from Brück, 2016: 3). The current official development plan of the
University of Music and Performing Arts Graz for the period 2016–2021 states: ‘The jazz
studies program in Graz was established as the first academic educational opportunity for
this music in Europe’.9
Despite the pride that resonates in some statements by representatives of the Graz jazz
scene about the institutes, criticism and conflict, both internal and external, have also
played their role. Witnesses report that internal conflicts among faculty members began
soon after the institute’s founding in 1965; external criticism appeared after a scandalous
performance by the Max Roach Quintet (Freddie Hubbard, tp; James Spaulding, as; Ronnie Mathews, p; Jymie Merritt, b; and Roach, dr) at the Erste Grazer Internationale Jazztage (First Graz International Jazz Days). Public indignation followed Hubbard’s and
Spaulding’s arrest for alcohol abuse and inappropriate behavior on stage; many blamed
the jazz institute’s chair – who was the festival’s main organizer – for irresponsible use of
public money in support of such ‘outrageous’ events.10 While the incident is remembered
by some as an anecdote in the history of jazz in Graz, others interpret it as an outbreak of
animosity towards the jazz camp. Other conflicts, mainly in the form of power struggles
within the university, disagreement regarding the distribution of financial resources, and
student protests regarding course requirements began in the mid-1970s and were reported
in local newspapers.11
Initially, the faculty at the jazz institute consisted mainly of local musicians, some of
whom had won awards at national and international jazz competitions. Early on they
were assisted by foreign lecturers such as Slovenian composer and arranger Janez Gregorc
(1934–2012, employed from 1965–1976), Swedish trombonist Eje Thelin (1938–1990,
employed from 1967–1972), Slovenian guitarist Milan Ferlež (1940–2006, employed from
1974–1975) and American bassist Wayne Darling (b. 1945, employed from 1983–2013).
Other international artists worked as guest professors or temporary visiting artists at the institute; among the most frequent guests were American singers Jay Clayton, Sheila Jordan,
Andy Bey and Mark Murphy, German arranger Peter Herbolzheimer, American pianist Bill
Dobbins and American bassist Ron McClure. The organization of workshops with visiting
guest artists at the jazz institute has been maintained until today; since 2009 as part of the
so-called ‘artist in residence’ program.
9 Translated
by the author from:
https://www.kug.ac.at/fileadmin/media/planev 44/Dokumente/Downloads/Arbeitsbehelfe
Studienunterlagen Informationen/mb 1 s 1 Entwicklungsplan 2016–2021.pdf. For further details on the views
of local jazz musicians on the development of the jazz institutes in Graz, see Kahr (2016).
10 One particularly critical article, by an anonymous author, appeared in the newspaper Kleine Zeitung on November 15, 1966.
11 For instance, compare Peter Vujica, “Das dunkle Berufungsgeheimnis,” Kleine Zeitung, March 13, 1974; Peter
Vujica, “Revolte gegen die Theorie,” Kleine Zeitung, June 7, 1974; Bernd Schmidt, “Jazz als progressives Alibi,”
Kleine Zeitung, January 8, 1981; NA, “Auseinandersetzungen um Jazz an der Grazer Hochschule,” Die Presse,
January 18, 1981; Gunther Baumann, “Heftiger Streit um neue Jazz-Professuren,” Kurier, November 20, 1982;
and Astrid Prange, “Gerangel um neue Jazz-Professuren,” Südost-Tagespost, November 25, 1982. Witnesses
verify such reports – and are still very emotional when discussing them.
60
50 YEARS OF ACADEMIC JAZZ IN CENTRAL EUROPE
Mainly local musicians were elected as chairs of the institute: Friedrich Körner (19651970), Dieter Glawischnig (1970–1975), Harald Neuwirth (1975–1983 and 2000–2007),
Karlheinz Miklin (1983–2000) and Karl Heinz Czadek (2000–2002). Since 2007 the jazz
institute is chaired by the American trombonist, composer and arranger Edward A. Partyka (b. 1967). The current international faculty of professors includes the Americans
Dena DeRose (voc, b. 1966), Jim Rotondi (tp, b. 1962), Ed Neumeister (tb, b. 1952),
Michael Abene (p and comp, b. 1942) and Howard Curtis (dr, b. 1953), as well as the
British saxophonist Julian Argüelles (b. 1966), German pianist Olaf Polziehn (b. 1970),
Slovenian pianist Renato Chicco (b. 1962) and Danish bassist Morten Ramsbøl (b. 1970,
Denmark). The Institute for Jazz Research was led by Körner until 1992, followed by
Franz Kerschbaumer (b. 1947). In 2016, the German André Doehring was appointed as
professor for jazz and popular music research and chair of the institute.
The institutes for jazz and jazz research have maintained a central role within the local
jazz scene throughout the past decades. However, faculty members have also participated
in various activities besides their academic duties and contributed to the local culture on a
more informal level. For instance, some lecturers and professors organized concerts and
festivals; others became members of local ensembles, some of which involved students and
amateur musicians.
Researching local jazz history in Graz – methodical considerations
The history of the interaction of jazz institutions and jazz scene in Graz represents an interesting, locally situated case study with potential relevance for the understanding of jazz
identity and related aspects of inheritance and tradition within the wider European sociocultural context.12 With this in mind, the research project Jazz & the city: Identity of a
capital of jazz was designed and conducted, from 2011 to 2013, as a joint initiative by the
jazz institutes in Graz.13 In addition to the investigation of biographical and institutional
history, based on a wide range of historical text documents and oral history transcripts,
artistic processes and their resulting sounds were explored in their distinct sociocultural
context, for a more complete understanding of local jazz history. While established musicological methods aim for objectivity by maintaining a distance between the researcher
and the research object, the perspective from inside the music-making processes in Graz
offers the potential of revealing additional, arts-based knowledge.
Consequently, the research methodology for this project combined musicological tools
of jazz history and analysis with concepts from artistic research, reflecting the methodical
traditions of the two institutes: the activities at the Institute for Jazz focus on the artistic
development of its students and are based primarily on the practical experience of faculty
members and visiting lecturers and accompanied by an increasing body of instructional
texts. The Institute for Jazz Research, on the other hand, focuses on the theoretical, historical and analytical investigation, using established musicological methods specially adapted
to the study of jazz.
According to common definitions of artistic research, art and the production of art are
understood as forms of perception; according to Julian Klein, artistic research involves
12 European
jazz identities were explored in the HERA-funded ‘Rhythm Changes’ research project (2010–2013);
see project website for further details: http://www.rhythmchanges.net
13 The project ‘Jazz & the City: Identity of a capital of jazz’ was made possible through the Austrian Science
Fund’s (FWF) funding scheme for artistic research (project number AR 86 G21). Project website, accessed July
1, 2016, http://www.jazzandthecity.org
61
‘artistic knowledge’, which is acquired in a sensory, emotional form of perception, embodied in the artistic experience (Klein, 2013). Henk Borgdorff (2006) describes artistic
research a means of imparting knowledge about, for and through/in the arts and advances
the view of ‘concepts and theories, experiences and understandings’ as immanently interwoven with art practices: ‘Research in the arts hence seeks to articulate some of this embodied knowledge throughout the creative process and in the art object’ (pp6-7). This particular form of knowledge defies verbalization and, according to Florian Dombois (2006),
reveals a ‘new cosmos of insight, which cannot be acquired a priori in conventional scientific research; various forms of expression – word, picture, sound – appear equal’ (22).
The SHARE Handbook for Artistic Research Education (Wilson & van Ruiten, 2014) provides a detailed overview of the current state and development of artistic research in higher
education and the report of the Association Européene des Conservatoires, Académies de
Musique et Musikhochschulen (AEC) Doctoral Studies in the Field of Music: Current Status and Latest Developments discusses recent developments of artistic music research in
doctoral programs across Europe.14
In order to convey such particular arts-based knowledge about jazz in Graz, the author
designed and conducted an artistic research project in the form of a compositional process
with the aim of processing sounding, performance-based and sensory aspects involved with
the artistic practice of the jazz tradition in Graz. The work’s progress was reflected and
documented in a composition diary, according to similar approaches in previous studies of
artistic processes (Zembylas & Niederauer, 2016). The diary entries attempt to provide the
greatest possible degree of transparency and replicability.
The fusion of research subject and object (here, the author’s combined role as researcher
and composer) is an integral aspect of artistic research methods; in combination with musicological expertise, it allows a participating practitioner to record his or her specific insights, including an alertness to aspects based on tacit knowledge, and balances the viewpoints of expert professional (artist) and outside observer (scholar). The fluctuation in the
continuum between the subjective, inside perspective of artistic practice and the outside
observations of conventional musicology evokes parallels to Paolo de Assis’ dynamic concept of artistic and scientific research:
In place of a dualistic opposition, I consider ‘research’ and ‘artistry’ as two parameters,
two control knobs that can have different settings in different moments of the research
procedure. In this reference frame, there is no research without creative moments, and
there is no artistry without research situations. Sometimes the research ‘knob’ is turned
very high while the artistic ‘knob’ is low, or vice versa; at other times they are equally
high. But they are always in relation to each other, defining an elaborated scale, which
can be precisely calibrated and explored by the artist-researcher.15
Crucial for intersubjectivity in the interpretation of such research results is knowledge
about the position of the artist-researcher: he has been a member of the local jazz scene
as a pianist, composer and educator for more than twenty years and gained a (more or
less) mutual understanding of the musical approaches of a wide range of local and visiting
musicians. Moreover, he has engaged in the organization of performances and negotiations
with concert promoters in Graz and representatives of the local arts council.
The result of the described artistic research process is represented by the author’s composition Annäherung (Rapprochement) for five horns and rhythm section and by the ac14 See
Wilson and van Ruiten (2014), and Tomasi and Vanmaele (2016). The dissemination of artistic research is
addressed in Schwab and Borgdorff (2014)
15 See de Assis (2016)
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50 YEARS OF ACADEMIC JAZZ IN CENTRAL EUROPE
companying composition diary, which illustrates aspects of artistic research in the inquiry
into local jazz history in Graz, and discusses some interrelationships between historical
data and artistic processes. The diary involves analyses of the piece, which explicate the
structure of the composition and illustrates some unconventional methodologies, including
the creative activity of jazz composition guiding archival research and structural analysis of
sound recordings, as well as the investigation of historical events and recordings stimulating and transforming new music. The score of the composition, the composition diary and
a recording of the music are published alongside a detailed musicological account of the
history of jazz in Graz. The publication also includes biographical information of significant protagonists and characterizations of their artistic processes and the resulting music
(Kahr, 2016).16
In sum, the combined approach of musicological and artistic research methods in the
research project Jazz & the City: Identity of a Capital of Jazz represents a fusion of the
diverse competences at the two institutes for jazz and jazz research in Graz. The project has
created a multi-perspective presentation of the local jazz history with particular emphasis
on the historical evolution of various places within the city, its people and activities in
jazz as well as forms of artistic knowledge, embodied in the musical practice. The artistic
research in this project accounts for a qualitative case study with particular focus on the
interrelation of sounding, performance-based and sensory aspects, and as an addition to
the detailed historical survey based on conventional musicological methods.
References
Assis, Paolo de. “Con Luigi Nono: Unfolding Waves.” Journal for Artistic Research 6
(2014). Accessed July 20, 2016. https://www.researchcatalogue.net/view/51263/66815.
“Austrian Science Fund FWF.” Accessed August 20, 2016. http://www.fwf.ac.at.
Benedix, Gabriele. “Ein Studiengang wird volljährig.” Jazzzeitung 3 (2003). Accessed
August 20, 2015. http://www.jazzzeitung.de/jazz/2003/03/education-hamburg.shtml.
Bowers, Kathryn Smith. “East Meets West: Contributions of Mátyás Seiber to Jazz in
Germany,” in Jazz & the Germans: Essays on the Influence of “Hot” American Idioms on
20the Century German Music, edited by Michael J. Budds, 119–166. Vol. 17 of Monographs and Bibliographies in American Music. Hillsdale: Pendragon Press, 2002.
Borgdorff, Henk. “The Debate on Research in the Arts.” Sensuous Knowledge – Focus
on Artistic Research and Development 2 (2006), reprinted in The Dutch Journal of Music
Theory 12 (2007): 1–17.
Brück, Günther. “Musik kennt keine Grenzen,” in KUG Jazz Live! 1, edited by Institute
for Jazz/University of Music and Performing Arts Graz, 3. Graz: University of Music and
Performing Arts, 2016.
Bundeskanzleramt/Rechtsinformationssystem. “Kunstakademiegesetz-Novelle 1962, Bun16 The compositions and additional pieces, which express various aspects of the history of jazz in Graz are released
on the CD Michael Kahr, Jazz & the City (. . . and me), Alessa Records 1047, 2016.
63
desgesetzblatt für die Republik Österreich 190 (5.12.1962).” Accessed January 2, 2016.
https://www.ris.bka.gv.at/Dokumente/BgblPdf/1962 190 0/1962 190 0.pdf .
Dombois, Florian. “Kunst als Forschung – Ein Versuch, sich selbst eine Anleitung zu
geben,” in HKB/HEAB 2006, (Bern: Hochschule der Künste Bern, 2006), 23–31.
Germeraad, Gert. “Rationality, Intuition and Emotion: Exploring an Artistic Process.”
Journal for Artistic Research 3 (2013). Accessed August 20, 2016.
http://www.researchcatalogue.net/view/25145/25146.
“International Society for Jazz Research/Institute for Jazz Research.” Accessed January 2,
2016. http://www.jazzresearch.org.
“Jazz & the City.” Accessed January 2, 2016. http://www.jazzandthecity.org.
“Jazz & the City (. . . and me).” Accessed July 1, 2016. http://jazz-the-city-and-me.webnode.at.
“Journal for Artistic Research JAR.” Accessed August 20, 2016. http://www.jar-online.net.
Kahr, Michael. Jazz & the City (. . . and me). Alessa Records 1047, 2016.
Kahr, Michael. Jazz & the City: Jazz in Graz von 1965 bis 2015. Graz: Leykam, 2016.
Kahr, Michael. “Künstlerische Forschung im Bereich Jazz und Popularmusik an der Kunstuniversität Graz.” Zeitschrift für Hochschulentwicklung ZfHE 10/1 (2015): 39–51.
Klein, Julian, “Was ist künstlerische Forschung.” kunsttexte.de/Auditive Perspektiven 2
(2011). Accessed August 20, 2016. http://edoc.hu-berlin.de/kunsttexte/2011-2/klein-julian1/PDF/klein.pdf.
Kolleritsch Elisabeth. “Erich Kleinschuster: Posaunist, Bandleader und Pädagoge.”
Jazzforschung/Jazz Research 33 (2001): 137–154.
Kolleritsch, Elisabeth. Jazz in Graz. Von den Anfängen nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg bis
zu seiner akademischen Etablierung. Ein zeitgeschichtlicher Beitrag zur Entwicklung des
Jazz in Europa. Vol. 10 of Beiträge zur Jazzforschung/Studies in Jazz Research. Graz:
ADEVA, 1995.
Körner, Friedrich. ”Graz: Zentrum der Jazzforschung” Jazzforschung/Jazz Research 1
(1969): 8-14.
“Kunstuni Graz: Entwicklungsplan 2016 bis 2021.” Universität für Musik und Darstellende Kunst Graz (2016). Accessed January 2, 2016.
https://www.kug.ac.at/fileadmin/media/planev 44/Dokumente/
Downloads/Arbeitsbehelfe Studienunterlagen Informationen/mb 1 s 1 Entwicklungsplan 20162021.pdf.
64
50 YEARS OF ACADEMIC JAZZ IN CENTRAL EUROPE
“Leeds College of Music.” Accessed January 2, 2016. http://leedswelcome.com/attractions/leedscollege-of-music.
Piller, Laura. “Das Wirken des Jazzposaunisten Eje Thelins in Graz und sein Einfluss auf
die Entwicklung des Free Jazz 1967–1972.” MA thesis, University of Music and Perfoming Arts Graz, 2015.
“Rhythm Changes.” Accessed January 2, 2016. http://www.rhythmchanges.net.
Rusch, Loes. “Jazzpracticum: Over de institutionalisering van jazzonderwijs in Nederland.” MA thesis, University of Amsterdam, 2007.
Schwab, Michael and Henk Borgdorff (eds.). The Exposition of Artistic Research: Publishing Art in Academia. Leiden: Leiden University Press, 2014.
Semper, Werner. “Klausurartiger Intensivkurs: Internationales Jazz-Seminar Deutschlandsberg.” Jazz Podium 30, no. 10 (1981): 21–24.
Sudmann, Rolf. “Popmusik in Studiengängen deutscher Hochschulen,” in Handbuch Jugend und Musik, edited by Dieter Baacke, 457–476. Opladen: Leske and Budrich, 1998.
Tackley, Catherine and Peter J. Martin. “Historical Overview of the development of jazz
in Britain,” in Rhythm Changes Historical Overview of Five Partner Countries, edited by
Tony Whyton and Christa Bruckner-Haring, 3–27. Graz: Institute for Jazz Research, 2013.
Thiem, Michael. “Dieter Glawischnig.” Jazz Forum 60 (1979): 39–42.
Tomasi, Ester and Joost Vanmaele. Doctoral Studies in the Field of Music: Current Status
and Latest Developments. Report by Polifonia 3rd cycle working group. Accessed August
20, 2016. http://www.aec-music.eu/userfiles/File/aec-report-doctoral-studies-in-the-fieldof-music-current-status-and-latest-developments-en.pdf.
“Universität für Musik und darstellende Kunst Wien.” Accessed August 20, 2016.
http://www.mdw.ac.at.
Wilson, Mick and Schelte van Ruiten (eds.). SHARE Handbook for Artistic Research Education. Amsterdam: Elia, 2014.
Zembylas, Tasos and Claudia Dürr. Wissen, Können und literarisches Schreiben: Eine
Epistemologie der künstlerischen Praxis. Wien: Passagen Verlag 2009.
Zembylas, Tasos and Martin Niederauer. Praktiken des Komponierens: Soziologische,
wissenstheoretische und musikwissenschaftliche Perspektiven. Wiesbaden: Springer VS,
2016.
65
Suggested Citation
Kahr, M. (2017) 50 Years of Academic Jazz in Central Europe: Musicological and artistic
research perspectives in a case study of local jazz history in Graz, in Medbøe, H., Moir,
Z., and Atton, C. (eds), Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe, Edinburgh, Continental Drift Publishing, 57–65.
Contributor Details
Michael Kahr currently works as a Senior Lecturer at the Institutes for Jazz und Jazz Research the University of Music and Performing Arts Graz, Austria and held previous positions at the universities of Vienna, Austria and Sydney, Australia. He received his PhD
in 2010 at the University of Sydney with the dissertation ”Aspects of Context and Harmony in the Music of Clare Fischer”. His research was or is accepted to be published in
journals such as Jazz Research Journal, Jazzforschung / Jazz Research, Journal for Artistic
Research, Darmstädter Beiträge zur Jazzforschung, Folkwang Studien and Zeitschrift für
Hochschulentwicklung, as well as in books by Rutledge and Cambridge Scholars Press.
Academic presentations were held at universities in Newark, Los Angeles, Birmingham,
Leeds, Amsterdam, Shanghai, Weimar, Lucerne and others. In 2010 Kahr worked as a Fulbright Scholar in the U.S. and in 2011 he received the Morroe Berger – Benny Carter Jazz
Research Award. Much of Kahr’s creative work as a professional pianist and composer
appears in close relation to his research. He performed at major jazz clubs and festivals
and released several CDs.
6
VOCAL JAZZ ACCENT: SOME OF MY
BEST FRIENDS ARE AMERICAN
Renée Stefanie
This article is inspired by a query that I am often presented with; “Why do so many jazz
singers sing in that American-style accent even if they’re not American?” The question
is put to me in my capacity as a voice tutor on a popular music program in Edinburgh,
Scotland, and asked largely by colleagues in music education, or peers who perform jazz.
For the purposes of this article I will refer to it as the vocal jazz accent (VJA). When considering accent for this article I take in to account the studies of the International Phonetic
Association (IPA) who recognise that sounds vary across languages and further assert that
“all languages have different accents and other varieties of pronounciation” (IPA 1999,
202). I will consider a selection of jazz singers and analyse their vocal technique as a
means to identify how the distinctive sound of a VJA is produced.
In the analysis that follows I will describe my observations of how the vocal apparatus
is manipulated in order to create the VJA and discuss the benefits of its use, including
considerations of intonation, tone, and vocal range. The final section will reflect on use
of the VJA, drawing on my own experience as a performer and educator in Edinburgh,
Scotland.
The framework for my analysis of vocal technique will be the model established by Jo
Estill. Vocalists trained in the Estill Voice ModelTM (hereafter referred to as Estill) learn
about the manipulation of vocal anatomy in the production of specific dynamic and tonal
attributes in conjunction with vocal range. Jo Estill, studied physiology of the head and
neck and principles of speech science alongside her studies in music. She devoted her caContinental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe.
Continental Drift Publishing - Copyright Retained by Individual Authors c 2017
67
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VOCAL JAZZ ACCENT: SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS ARE AMERICAN
reer to voice research and teaching, developing a template of vocal figures in which thirteen
anatomical components are taught as malleable parts that contribute to healthy voice production (Klimek 2005, 1). My analysis will be further enhanced by drawing on my own
experience as a university lecturer, specialising in vocal technique for a predominantly
Scottish and European cohort.
Method
In order to conduct an analysis, I selected ten European Jazz singers and chose a minimum of two performances from each artist to establish consistencies and inconsistencies
in their vocal technique. A full list of analysed recordings is included as an appendix.
Artists were selected from various countries in Europe. Some, such as Cleo Laine, were
names that were well known to me within my own American influenced Jazz education
in New Zealand. Others were discovered via internet searches or recommendations from
colleagues with whom I have performed, taught, or conversed. I was keen to include artists
performing original material, American Songbook material, and scat singing, to ascertain
whether the VJA was apparent regardless of lyrical content and repertoire source. In order
to gain perspective on the VJA in current use I included two emerging artists, Mads Mathias, and Ala.Ni, selected from the program of the Edinburgh Jazz and Blues Festival of
2016. Additional performances from other European artists were listened to and analysed,
some of which are referred to in this article.
The analysis, conducted on a purposive sample, is subject to the limitations of my bias
in identifying singers within the jazz idiom, and in analysing only a small portion of a large
possible sample base. Analysis was conducted aurally, utilising my skills and experience
as an educator trained in Estill to listen to performances and identify which techniques
were used in the production of the distinctive vocal sound of each singer.
The key signifiers I used to assist in identifying which techniques singers were using
are summarised in the mind map, figure 6.1, below. I have described the sound of each as
I perceive them, although other practitioners of Estill might describe them differently.
Framework for analysis
Estill sets out a template for vocal analysis and technique that allows an experienced vocal
practitioner to identify how the vocal apparatus has been manipulated in order to achieve
specific sounds (Klimek 2005, 8). Vocalists trained in Estill are able to use this knowledge
to manipulate and adjust their own vocal set up in order to vary the timbre, dynamic, and
pitch of their voice. I have identified several key contributing components of vocal apparatus, shown in figure 6.2, to form a template for aural analysis. These components are the
key contributors to vocal timbre and are utilised in the annunciation of language. I propose
that timbre and annunciation are the key elements that contribute to the distinctive sound
of an accent. For each of these components I have provided an example of its use by an
American jazz vocalist for the benefit of comparison with non-American jazz singers’ use
of the same vocal techniques.
1 True Vocal Folds (Klimek 2005, 41-49): Estill shows that the true vocal folds (TVF)
are housed within the larynx. They vibrate when their edges are brought close together,
shuttering in response to exhalation, and this vibration is the source of sound. Estill shows
69
Figure 6.1
Figure 6.2
Aural analysis, identifiers used to establish VJA
Vocal Apparatus - analysed components. Please note, Image is not to scale.
70
VOCAL JAZZ ACCENT: SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS ARE AMERICAN
that vocal range can be increased via lengthening, or tautening, of the TVF (Klimek 2005,
44). An increase in length and tension, labeled in Estill as ‘thin folds’, allows for increased
frequency of vibration. This has been likened to tightening the strings of a guitar (Titze
2008), providing increased access to higher pitches. This manipulation of the TVF also
creates a subtle change in the general timbre of a voice. The sound might be described as
increasingly controlled, held-in, or smooth.1 The act of tautening the TVF, labeled in Estill
as ‘stiff folds’, provides similar access to increased range. I liken this action to the tightening of a drum skin. Vibration of ‘stiff folds’ requires the use of increased air-flow in order
to provoke movement. This often results in an audible breathiness, which in combination
with a lowered larynx, creates a sound that might be described as husky.2
2 Larynx (Klimek 2005, 65-69): The larynx, which houses the vocal folds, can move up
or down within the surrounding throat, or pharynx. When it moves down, labeled in Estill
as ‘low larynx’, it increases the space in the surrounding pharynx, creating a larger resonant chamber. The vocal tone becomes richer and fuller as overtones become increasingly
accessible, especially in the lower range.3 Estill describes the timbre of the voice when a
low larynx is employed as having “dark colour and emotion” (Klimek 2005, 69).
3 Aryepiglottic Sphincter (AES) (Klimek 2005, 87-92) and Nasal Cavity (Klimek 2005,
71-78): The aryepiglottic sphincter (AES) is the name given by Estill to the space below
the epiglottis, and above the TVF. Sound, which starts at the true vocal folds, is filtered
through the space surrounding the larynx. The aryepiglottic sphincter, the oral cavity, and
the nasal cavity, can be manipulated to brighten and focus the sound. The AES can be
narrowed, functioning in a manner similar to a straight mute for a trumpet, brightening
and focusing the sound of the voice. The soft palate can be manipulated to serve the same
purpose. When the soft palate is in a neutral position sound is filtered through the oral
and the nasal cavity as illustrated by the arrows in figure 6.3 below. The soft palate can be
raised, closing off the nasal port so that the sound travels through the oral cavity alone, or
it can be lowered to a mid positon, inducing increased nasality in the note and focusing the
sound in a similar manner to the narrowing of the AES. Both of these techniques alter the
vocal timbre in a manner that adds some brassiness, or ‘twang’, to the voice and they are
often used in conjunction.4
1 Betty
Carter provides a benchmark for use of ‘thin folds’, as can be heard from 0.22-0.33 minutes in
her performance of Tight 1980 https://youtu.be/Q8WpogK0hs4 . Mel Tormé also provides a benchmark
for ‘thin folds’, as can be heard from 0.18-0.33 minutes in his performance of ‘Round Midnight 1961
https://youtu.be/FDExcXk1C44
2 Julie London provides a benchmark for this sound from 1.51- 2.01 minutes in her performance of Cry Me
a River 1964 https://youtu.be/DXg6UB9Qk0o . Nat King Cole peppers his vocal performances with ‘stiff
folds’, providing a clear example on the lyric “before” at 1.04 minutes in his rendition of Unforgettable
https://youtu.be/Fy JRGjc1To
3 Sarah Vaughan provides a benchmark for the sound of a low larynx, utilising a low larynx with increasing
intensity from 0.33 – 0.49 minutes until the lowest note of this section in her performance of Tenderly 1958
https://youtu.be/qNi6M A9AzU Oscar Brown Jr. utilises a lowered larynx as a textural addition to his singing,
which can be heard from 0.16-0.27 minutes in his performance of Afro Blue https://youtu.be/zRsAhg6rEsA
4 Betty Carter provides a benchmark for the sound of a narrow AES and mid soft palate in conjunction to create a bright and focused vocal performance in her rendition of Bluebird of Happiness 1958
https://youtu.be/DtpgVI6 BNk . Chet Baker can be heard utilising this same combination of narrow AES
and mid soft palate in creating a focused vocal sound on his rendition of Do it the Hard Way 1958
https://youtu.be/exfDwKObxUM
71
Figure 6.3 Sound waves, produced by vibrating TVF, travel through the pharynx via AES, oral,
and nasal cavity.
4 Articulators: During articulation the lips, teeth, and especially tongue, alter the shape of
the oral cavity and throat.
4a Tongue: Estill exerts that movement of the root of the tongue has an impact on pitch
(Klimek 2005, 85). Pronunciation of certain vowel shapes causes the root of the tongue to
protrude in the back of the throat and this can create problems with intonation. In order to
achieve good intonation, my training and teaching includes what we term as ‘placement’;
an act that alters tongue position and keeps the root of the tongue forward. Figure 6.4
shows the placement (shown as a blue dot) of the ‘cardinal vowel’ formant ‘Ah’, according
to the International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA 1999, 416), with a representation of the tongue
shape when speaking this vowel. The red dot shows placement when the root of the tongue
is brought forward, with the altered tongue position represented as a dashed line.
In order to achieve consistency of tone and intonation, tongue movement is minimised
in order to sustain a shape in the oral cavity that provides both resonance and focus to a
note. Gillyanne Kayes calls this the act of medialisation (Kayes 2004, 100). The aim is to
shift between vowels with minimal alteration to the shape of the oral cavity.5
Over the course of analysis, I noticed five key vowel shapes to which jazz vocalists
were most likely to medialise. Figure 6.5 below shows these ‘cardinal vowels’, in a neutral
formant as identified by the IPA (IPA 1999, 416) represented by the blue dots, and with
‘placement’ represented by the red dots. The red dots are the shapes and placements I refer
5 When
Ella Fitzgerald sings Misty, she ‘medialises’ the vowels to the shape of the oral cavity when singing
‘eh’; the vowel shape belonging to the lyric “hand” at 0.41 minutes in her performance of Misty 1960
https://youtu.be/rPOlakkBlj8
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VOCAL JAZZ ACCENT: SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS ARE AMERICAN
Figure 6.4 Altered tongue shape and note placement of ’Ah’ formant when pulling the root of the
tongue forward
Figure 6.5 Blue dots represent standard placement, and red dots represent altered placement, of
five key vowel shapes
to when discussing vowels and medialisation in my analysis.
4b Lips: Estill identifies the lips as a sphincter (Klimek 2005, 99). Like the AES and
nasal cavity the shape of the lips, from pursed to spread, can darken or brighten the vocal
sound. When articulating consonants, the lips, teeth, and tip of the tongue alter the shape
of the sphincter. The singers I have analysed mediliase to consonants in a similar manner
as they do to vowel shapes. By keeping the movement of the mouth minimal, the singer
achieves a consistency of control over tone and is enabled to articulate at greater speeds.
In the course of analysis, I noticed preference for the consonant shapes ‘n’, ‘d’, and ‘t’.
These occur at the front of the mouth, where the tip of the tongue sits directly behind the
73
teeth. These consonant shapes, in which the tip of the tongue is behind the teeth, are also
helpful in bringing the root of the tongue forward in the placement of vowels.6
Findings
Every singer analysed made use of nasality or narrowed AES. The use of these techniques
focuses pitch, tone, and intonation. The majority utilised the narrowed AES and nasality
in conjunction, especially in the higher range. In Rita Reys’ performance of It’s Alright
With Me, for example, she uses the two in conjunction throughout her performance.7 At
3.12 minutes she increases the use of nasality to focus the highest note, sung on the lyric
“game”.
The male vocalists analysed were more inclined to utilise nasality to focus their notes
without narrowing the AES. In David Linx’s Performance of Even Make It Up, for example, he uses nasality, which focuses his vocal tone and tuning.8 The elimination of the
narrow AES contributes to a more conversational or spoken quality in his singing. He adds
narrow AES in portions of the song where vocal dynamic is increased, removing some of
the nasality and creating a more rounded tone whilst maintaining the focused intonation.
This can be heard, for example, at 1.17 minutes in to his performance on the lyric “even
make it up”.
Every singer analysed used ‘thin folds’, with several making use of ‘stiff folds’ in portions of performance. The use of ‘thin folds’ provides access to a wide vocal range with
consistency of quality, control, and dynamic. Use of ‘stiff folds’ enables access to a similar, and often increased, vocal range whilst offering textural variation due to it’s breathier
sound, and softer dynamic. For example, Carol Kidd utilises thin and stiff folds in her performance of It’s Delovely.9 She sings with ‘thin folds’ in the majority of her performance,
which starts at 1.07 minutes, negotiating the melodic range with seeming effortlessness.
She switches momentarily to stiff folds, lending selected lyrics a lighter, breathier quality, as can be heard when she sings “delightful”, “delicious”, and “delovely” in the line
beginning at 2.08 minutes.
Cleveland Watkiss also utilised some ‘thick folds’ in the lower parts of his range. Estill
uses the term ‘thick folds’ to describe the vocal folds in the neutral state of the speaking
voice. Cleveland Watkiss’ additional use of ‘thick folds’, for example from 0.46-0.53
minutes in his rendition of Let’s Face the Music and Dance, provides access to a forthright
and dynamic sound. However ‘thick folds’ is limited in terms of vocal range and it is used
sparingly by Watkiss in only one of four songs analysed.10
Low larynx was used by all the singers I analysed. This contributes to a resonant sound
with subtle to full-bodied overtones, as is apparent in Nannie Porres’ rendition of What a
6 Frank Sinatra medialises to an ‘n’, lingering on the consonant where the lyric allows, on “down” at 0.30 minutes,
or “angels” at 1.08 minutes in his performance of Come Fly With Me https://youtu.be/SLC5AGGHLz0 . Demonstrating the ability to utililise medialisation in the enhancement of fast articulation, Anita O’Day also medialises
to ‘n’ in her performance of Tea For Two. Consequently, when singing sharper or more plosive consonants such
as ‘p’, b’, ‘t’ or ‘d’ the sound is subtly softened and she is able to move more quickly to the next syllabic shape, as
can be heard when she sings “nobody near us” at 0.36 minutes in her performance of Tea for Two at the Newport
Jazz Festival in 1958 https://youtu.be/WTOHZXFEO5c
7 Rita Reys performs It’s Alright With Me 1961 https://youtu.be/-Nxgc3zb7VE
8 David Linx performs Even Make it Up https://youtu.be/MaNyzugyTbM
9 Carol Kidd performs It’s Delovely 2006 https://youtu.be/iibOjyQHL7g
10 Cleveland Watkiss performs Let’s Face the Music and Dance 2013 https://youtu.be/NVUm1crt8t0
74
VOCAL JAZZ ACCENT: SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS ARE AMERICAN
Figure 6.6 Darker shades represent techniques used by all singers analysed. Lighter shades
represent techniques that serve a similar purpose in focusing tone and intonation; singers analysed
all used one, the other, or both.
Little Moonlight Can Do.11 The singers I analysed have this aspect of vocal technique in
common with operatic singers, who also sing with a low larynx throughout their range.
Erik Leuthäuser provides an example of low larynx used in conjunction with manipulation of nasality and AES when performing in the finals of the Shure Montreux Jazz
Voice Competition 2016.12 The low larynx is used most obviously at 2.14 minutes as a
means to emulate the resonance of the upright bass. At 2.35 minutes he subtly increases
use of nasality in conjunction with the low larynx to focus melodic notes in his scat solo,
increasing narrowness of AES and use of nasality the higher he goes in his vocal range.
The use of these vocal techniques creates an initial perception of accent. As a baseline
for comparison I will refer to the vocal quality of the characters in the American sitcom
Friends. Friends is a long running sitcom that has been regularly repeated on television
in the UK and is a common point of reference in conversation amongst my students and
colleagues, therefore it provides me with a useful benchmark for comparison as a likely
reference point for common aural experience of what the IPA refers to as “General American” (IPA 1999, 202).
11
Nannie Porres performs What a Little Moonlight Can Do 1967 https://youtu.be/-KWJhS4kNXE
Erik Leuthäuser performs for the finals of Shure Montreux Jazz Voice Competition 2016
https://youtu.be/ZUNavuKlJv8
12
75
The narrowing of the AES and use of nasality to brighten and focus notes when singing
creates an initial likeness to a ’General American’ accent. Each of the six main characters
in Friends produces vocal tone with a pronounced nasality that directs the sound of their
voice, and is particularly apparent in the delivery of comedic lines. Nasality is common to
most speaking voices, however in the American accent it is a particularly focused sound
akin to that of the singers I analysed.
The low larynx is a key contributor to the sense of accent due to the resonance it adds
to vocal tone. Its impact is increased as it necessitates placement and medialisation when
singing vowels. The jazz singers I analysed medialise vowels to one or more of five placed
variations, deviating from their speaking accents to a hybridised sound that can be likened
to the transatlantic accent.
The transatlantic accent is a hybrid of British Received Pronunciation and General
American developed as a neutral dialect that was predominantly utilised in film and broadcasting through the 1930’s to the late 1950’s (Queen 2015, 240). The accent provides a
neutral sound that is, in my perception, clear, articulated, and easy to understand. It is
used, for example, by screen actors Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn. In an excerpt from
The Philadelphia Story both actors speak with a subtly lowered larynx, contributing to a
sense of gravitas in their vocal performances.13 The excerpt also demonstrates clear diction, achieved by a medialisation of annunciation to the front of the mouth where the tip of
the tongue sits directly behind the top teeth. The effect of this medialisation is especially
apparent when Hepburn annunciates the word ‘digusting’ at 1.41 minutes. The word is
articulated at the front of the mouth, including the hard ‘g’, which might be pronounced
further back in, for example, my own New Zealand accent.
Articulation and annunciation used by the jazz singers I analysed provides further insight in to the perception of accent. The placement and medialisation used by these singers,
which focuses and tunes their vocal tone, is technically similar to the annunciation of actors
vocalising with a transatlantic accent.
All of the singers analysed demonstrated preferences for medialising to vowel shapes
with placement that brings the root of the tongue forward. Several of the singers varied
the vowel shapes to which they medialised, highlighting variable attributes in repertoire.
For example Rita Reys medialises her vowels to ‘eh’ but adjusts this basic preference to
sit in between ‘eh’ and ‘ee’ in her performance of Thou Swell.14 This contributes to a
lighter vocal tone that suits the lyrical playfulness of the juxtaposing Shakespearean ‘thou’
with the colloquial use of ‘swell’. Comparatively, in her performance of After You’ve
Gone Rita Reys adjusts her ‘eh’ shape towards a more rounded ‘ah’ that contributes to an
increased sense of gravitas, which suits the lyrical combination of playful taunting with the
underlying pain of rejection.15
The preferred vowels, each with slightly raised dorsum positioning and the root of the
tongue brought forward, enables singers to place notes to the front of the mouth and improve intonation. Subtle adjustments, such as those employed by Rita Reys in the examples
previously provided, contribute to adjustment of tonal colour, darkening or lightening the
tone to suit the material.
Cleo Laine utilises variations with dexterity. In her performance of ‘Fascinatin’ Rhythm,
for example, she medialises to a subtly rounded ‘ee’ shape.16 This provides a clear, direct
13
Excerpt from The Philadelphia Story 1940 https://youtu.be/-Ot948zIr0s
Reys performs Thou Swell 1960 https://youtu.be/vrag29iwGJY
15 Rita Reys After You’ve Gone 1963 https://youtu.be/PpY9Sm8wWOQ
16 Cleo Laine Fascinatin’ Rhythm https://youtu.be/5ZWN-GBz5Fc
14 Rita
76
VOCAL JAZZ ACCENT: SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS ARE AMERICAN
Figure 6.7
Vowel and Consonant medialisation preferences of singers analysed
77
tone when combined with ‘thin folds’, nasality, narrow AES, and low larynx. At 0.53 minutes in to the song, on the lyric “quiver”, she increases the intensity of the low larynx and
adjusts medialisation to an ‘ah’ shape, which creates a momentary increase in resonance
and darkening of the vocal tone.
Emerging artist Ala.Ni consistently utilises a low larynx, creating a resonant vocal
sound that can be heard throughout her rendition of ‘Cry Me a River’.17 She accompanies the lowered larynx in this example with medialisation to an ‘oh’ shape. With the root
of the tongue kept forward, the ‘oh’ shape contributes to a dark tone which, to me, is reminiscent to that of received pronounciation, exemplified by the words ‘own’ and ‘spread’ as
annunciated by Queen Elizabeth II 2.20 minutes in to her Christmas broadcast for 2015.18
The vowel shapes to which the singers I analysed all medialised have tongue positions
that sit in the middle of the mouth with the root of the tongue brought forward. This basic
shape is adjusted in the choice of specific vowel, with ‘oh’ offering the darkest tone that
most resembles Received Pronunciation. The perception of an American accent is most
apparent when vocalists medialise to ‘ee’, ‘eh’ and sometimes ‘aw’ shapes. The placement
and tonality of these shapes are similar to the tonal attributes of ‘General American’. Their
use promotes, alongside a focused nasality, a subtly widened lip shape that is also evident
in the ‘General American’ spoken accent. This subtly widened lip can also be visually observed in excerpts from Friends.19 As the actors articulate words there is a subtle spreading
of the lips at the ends of phrases. Visually, this can be compared to footage of Nannie Porres performing What a Little Moonlight Can Do20 , or Mads Mathias performing Fool for
Love.21
Speed, and lyrical definition, can be similarly improved via medialisation of consonant
shapes. The singers analysed favoured medialisation to consonants that are pronounced
with the tip of the tongue on or near the ridge of mouth, such as ‘t’, ‘d’ and ‘n’. Medialising to an ‘n’ shape is also helpful in accessing nasality for the focus of intonation. The
medialisation of consonants creates a smaller space within which the tongue moves. In so
doing, it minimises the amount of movement required to articulate syllables clearly, making it possible to sing faster lines. Latvian vocalist Arta Jekabsone demonstrates this in her
rendition of Four for the Shure Montreaux Jazz Voice Competition 2016.22
The similarities to ‘General American’ or transatlantic accents are most apparent when
singers are performing an English lyric, however the techniques that contribute to these
perceived accents are the same when artists for whom English is a second language perform
in their native tongue. In his performance of Letter to My Son, for example, David Linx
performs English and French lyric with seamless transition, medialising in both languages
to a vowel shape that sits between ‘eh’ and ‘ee’.23 Berit Andersson performs the Swedish
lyric of Sommarbris with the same template of vocal technique set out by the other singers
I have analysed, medialising to an ‘ee’ shape that provides a bright and focused tone. The
VJA prevails unnoticed once the English lyric is set aside.24
Some of the vocalists I analysed performed scat solo’s, or vocalised without lyrics. The
perception of an accent is still apparent, but lessened, as it is free of the aural expectations
17 Ala.Ni
performs Cry Me a River 2015 https://youtu.be/hXHLh3C8PGY
Elizabeth II, Christmas Broadcast 2015 https://youtu.be/8Mzor6Hf1tY
19 Selection of scenes from Friends, Season 3 https://youtu.be/Yisf5pk074M
20 Nannie Porres performs What a Little Moonlight Can Do 1967 https://youtu.be/-KWJhS4kNXE
21 Mads Mathias performs Fool for Love 2014 https://youtu.be/6 MA9Bk8KXY
22 Arta Jekabson performs Four for Shure Montreux Jazz Voice Competition, 2016 https://youtu.be/-eE8c9s-bFY
23 David Linx performs Letter to My Son 2012 https://youtu.be/8LaliIh08yo
24 Berit Andersson performs Sommarbris 2008 https://youtu.be/poAchE08kOM
18 Queen
78
VOCAL JAZZ ACCENT: SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS ARE AMERICAN
linked to spoken language. Its technical benefits remain relevant for focusing the note,
adding resonance, and achieving purity of intonation. Variations occur predominantly in
the exploration of consonant use, with medialisation to various consonant sounds such
as ‘l’, a hard ‘g’, a hard ‘k’, and a softened ‘b’ providing a greater variety of percussive
sounds as might be heard in Urszulu Dudziak’s recording of Papaya between 0.38 and 0.50
minutes.25 Some of these singers also make increased use of medialisation to ‘ng’, which
contributes to an increased nasality that is useful in focusing notes. This is apparent in
Cleveland Watkiss’ lyric free performance for the Sligo Jazz Project.26
Discussion
Estill describes the combination of several techniques, in which vocal anatomy is manipulated, as a recipe (Klimek 2005, 5). The technical recipe, favoured by the singers I have
analysed, is most likely a ‘template’ learned via mimicry. Mimicry, for the majority of
vocalists I have learned alongside and taught, is how we first learn to sing. We cannot see
the physical apparatus that produces our vocal sound and cannot, therefore, be certain of
what note we are going to sing, so we learn pitch and control via an empathetic awareness
that allows us to imitate the sounds of others. As a student of vocal jazz, the first artists I
was pointed towards were Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Frank Sinatra, and Louis Armstrong. There followed Sarah Vaughan, Carmen MacRae, Shirley Horn, Mel Tormé, Jon
Hendricks, Betty Carter, and many more singers, all of whom were/are American. A lot
can be learnt via imitation, especially when learning an instrument that is not visible to the
player, but mimicking the sounds of those you admire will develop techniques that replicate their tone. Articulation and shaping of words, which are in a symbiotic relationship
with the tuning of notes, is similarly emulated and for those, like me, who learnt to sing in
this manner, an accent is inadvertently adopted. What is harder to do, once confidence and
experience develops, is to lose that accent should you so desire.
Technical knowledge has allowed me to revise use of vocal technique and sing in an
accent closer to my own New Zealand/European hybrid. The use of ‘low larynx’, ‘thin
folds’, ‘narrow AES’ and nasality requires me to adopt placement and consonant medialisation to control tone, intonation, speed and clarity. By mediliasing to a shape that sits in
between ‘uh’ and ‘aw’, however, I am able to sing in an accent that more closely resembles
my speaking accent. Monica Zetturland’s accent comes to the fore by medialising predominantly to an ‘uh’ shape that allows for the integration of an indicative forward placed
‘r’. This can be heard in her performance of Some Other Time, where the ‘uh’ shape she
medialises to is heard most clearly on the lyric unspoken at 1.09 minutes.27 By choosing
an alternate vowel for medialisation, it is possible to bring out tonality that may be closer
to the singers speaking accent.
These adjustments, however, will have an impact on tone production and speed. For
example, if I sing Annie Ross’ vocalese for Twisted, which I like to perform up tempo
from the original, medialising to the ‘uh’ and ‘aw’ hybrid vowel shape that would bring
me closer to my speaking accent creates a mouth shape that hinders my ability to articulate
words at the speed I desire. Medialising to ‘eh’ allows me to maintain a smaller mouth
25 Urszula
Dudziak performs Papaya 1976 https://youtu.be/zWSfiVp0vYA
Watkiss perfroms at Sligo Jazz Project 2011 https://youtu.be/lpHo6cBjw00
27 Monica Zetterlund performs Some Other Time 1965 https://youtu.be/Ob0HX84Fojk
26 Cleveland
79
shape that is conducive to faster articulation.28 As a teacher I often work with students
who wish to achieve powerful dynamics in their upper range. This is achieved, without
straining the voice, through application of narrowed AES, nasality, and medialisation that
favours ‘ee’ and ‘eh’. The result is a dynamic and controlled upper range, and an accent
that more closely resembles ‘General American’.
In several of the performance examples given in this article, singers vary the tonality
of their vocal sound through application of technique. The larynx might be lowered to
varying degrees to darken tones, or the AES increasingly narrowed to provide a more
dynamic vocal sound. Medialisation to vowel shapes is also used with subtle variations,
where adjustments are made to brighten or darken the vocal tone whilst maintaining purity
of intonation. As a performer I utilise variations with specific intentions. I will medialise
to the same consonants as the singers I have analysed because when I do so, I find it easier
to maintain intonation and speed. I will medialise to ‘eh’ and sometimes ‘aw’ when I wish
to have a brighter, controlled tone in my vocal sound and will often use this when I wish to
inject a sense of humour or enjoyment in my interpretation of lyrics. I will make use of a
low larynx, with varying intensity, to add depth and darkness to my vocal tone in order to
add gravitas to a lyrical narrative, or emulate the sound of some instruments, such as bass
or trombone. I adjust how I use technique with specific aims of tone, speed, intonation
and control and as a consequence my accent is often affected. Like the jazz singers I have
analysed, I use the VJA.
The VJA, which I believe is the product of high levels of technical ability, doesn’t necessarily make sense as identifiably American. Whilst we may perceive the influence of
American luminaries as the origin of its use, I believe the VJA should be acknowledged
as a skill set that enables singers in the jazz idiom to sing with tonal and dynamic control.
Singers with technical self-awareness, which can be achieved with experience and/or training, are capable of adjusting how they use the VJA and may be able to produce a sound
that more closely resembles their speaking accents. These adjustments will, however, impact on other aspects of their vocal performance. Like any other instrument, singers make
choices in the application of vocal technique in order to achieve musical aims of range,
pitch, dynamic, tone, speed, intonation and control. For example, if speed is the primary
concern, medialising to ‘eh’ and ‘ee’ vowel shapes is most conducive to managing fast articulation, but the darker or richer tones that might be achieved by medialising to an ‘ah’ or
‘oh’ shape is compromised. If concerns of accent are foremost in the singers’ mind, other
aspects of vocal performance will be compromised. For the benefit of technical control
over intonation, speed, dynamic, and tone the VJA is, in Estill terms, a recipe made of the
best possible ingredients to produce the desired result.
References
Alkyer, Frank, Enright, Ed, Koransky, Jason, Cohen, Aaron and Cagle, Jeff, eds. Downbeat - The Great Jazz Interviews; A 75th Anniversary Anthology. New York: Hal Leonard,
2009.
28 Renée
Stefanie performs Twisted 2000 https://soundcloud.com/renee-stefanie/twisted
80
VOCAL JAZZ ACCENT: SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS ARE AMERICAN
Donkers, Jurjen The Official Rita Reys Website; Biography www.ritareys.eu accessed June
2016
Hellström, Viveka. “Is She a True Jazz Singer?” Jazz, Gender, Authenticity: Proceedings
of the 10th Nordic Jazz Research Conference. Stockholm: statensmusikverk.se, 2012.
Juslin, Patrick N and Laukka, Petri. “Communication of Emotions in Vocal Expression
and Music Performance: Different Channels, Same Code?” Psychological Bulletin 129,
no. 5 (2003):770-814. doi: 10.1037/0033-2909.129.5.770
Kayes, Gillyanne. Singing and the Actor, Second Edition. London: A & C Black, 2004.
Klimek, Mary McDonald, Obert, Kerrie and Steinhauer, Kimberly. Estill Voice Training
System: Level One, Compulsory Figures for Voice Control. Think Voice International,
2005.
Klimek, Mary McDonald, Obert, Kerrie and Steinhauer, Kimberly. Estill Voice Training
System: Level Two, Figure Combinations for Six Voice Qualities. Think Voice International, 2005.
Linx, David David Linx http://www.davidlinx-official.com accessed June 2016
Queen, Robin. Vox Popular: The Surprising Life of Language in the Media, Kindle Edition. West Sussex: Wiley Blackwell, 2015.
Rogovoy, Seth. “Betty Carter: Still Taking Risks” Berkshire Eagle November 14, 1997.
Torff, Brian. In Love With Voices A Jazz Memoir New York: iUniverse Inc 2008.
Tormé, Mel. My Singing Teachers: Reflections on Singing Popular Music. New York:
Oxford University Press, 1994.
Watkiss, Cleveland Cleveland Watkiss http://www.clevelandwatkiss.net accessed June 2016
International Phonetic Associaton Handbook of the International Phonetic Association
Kindle Edition Cambridge University Press, 1999
Dankworth Management Cleo Laine http://www.quarternotes.com/Cleo.htm accessed June
2016
Shure Montreux Jazz Voice Competition Blog 2016 https://shureatmontreux.wordpress.com
Accessed June 2016
81
Appendix: List of analysed recordings and performances:
Ala.Ni Cry Me a River La Blogothèque, 2015 https://youtu.be/hXHLh3C8PGY accessed
July 2016
Ala.Ni Roses and Wine Le Live 2016 https://youtu.be/qNaC2pp6JVw accessed July 2016
Andersson, Berit Skylark 2012 https://youtu.be/aHerKdfXbZI accessed August 2016
Andersson, Berit Sommarbris https://youtu.be/poAchE08kOM accessed July 2016
Baker, Chet “Do it the Hard Way” It Could Happen to You; Chet Baker Sings Riverside
1958. https://youtu.be/exfDwKObxUM accessed August 2016
Brown Jr, Oscar “Afro Blue” Sin and Soul. . . and then some Columbia, 1960. https://youtu.be/zRsAhg6rEsA
accessed August 2016
Carter, Betty Tight 1980 https://youtu.be/Q8WpogK0hs4 accessed July 2016
Carter, Betty “Bluebird of Happiness” Out There With Betty Carter Peacock Records,
1958. https://youtu.be/DtpgVI6 BNk accessed July 2016
Cole, Nat King Unforgettable. https://youtu.be/Fy JRGjc1To accessed July 2016
Dudziak, Urszula “Bolero” Malowany Ptak Polonia Records, 1997 https://youtu.be/7AeISThRWBk
accessed August 2016
Dudziak, Urszula “Night in Tunisia” Midnight Rain Arista, 1977 https://youtu.be/6lhPu5JGsl0
accessed August 2016
Dudziak, Urszula “Papaya” Urszula Arista 1975 https://youtu.be/zWSfiVp0vYA accessed
July 2016
Jekabson, Arta Shure Montreux Jazz Voice Competition 2016 Finals Shure EMEA, 2016
https://youtu.be/-eE8c9s-bFY
Fitzgerald, Ella “Misty” Ella Fitzgerald Sings Songs from Let No Man Write My Epitaph
Verve 1960 https://youtu.be/rPOlakkBlj8 accessed October 2016
Kidd, Carol “Don’t Worry About Me” All My Tomorrows Linn Records 1985 https://youtu.be/uxOZfs Gs4 accessed July 2016
Kidd, Carol “I Think It’s Gonna Rain Today” The Night We Called it a Day Linn Records,
1990 https://youtu.be/QlakltvhUTA accessed July 2016
Kidd, Carol It’s Delovely; Live at Candelriggs Glasgow George Kidd, 2006 https://youtu.be/iibOjyQHL7g
accessed June 2016
82
VOCAL JAZZ ACCENT: SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS ARE AMERICAN
Kidd, Carol When I Dream; live in concert https://youtu.be/lL JsZ1WXBA accessed June
2016
Laine, Cleo Come Rain Or Come Shine/Please Don’t Talk About Me 1968 https://youtu.be/7ImSHmf7WSg
accessed July 2016
Laine, Cleo Fascinatin’ Rhythm https://youtu.be/5ZWN-GBz5Fc accessed June 2016
Laine, Cleo “It Might as Well Be Spring/Come Back to Me” Royal Variety Performance
1977 https://youtu.be/PVx3Rndi2W4 accessed July 2016
Laine, Cleo “On a Clear Day” Music All In https://youtu.be/hSLxdLIoHj4 accessed July
2016
Leuthäuser, Shure Montreux Jazz Voice Competition 2016 Finals Shure EMEA 2016 https://youtu.be/ZUNavuKlJv8
accessed July 2016
Linx, David Letter to My Son RTL – Toujours avec vous, 2012. https://youtu.be/8LaliIh08yo
accessed June 2016
Linx, David Even Make it Up RTL – Toujours avec vous, 2012. https://youtu.be/MaNyzugyTbM
accessed June 2016
Linx, David, Wissels, Diedrik “Land of Joy” This Time Le Chant Du Monde, 2003.
https://youtu.be/au0wE6kjLE4 accessed June 2016
London, Julie Cry Me a River 1964. https://youtu.be/DXg6UB9Qk0o accessed August
2016
Mathias, Mads Fool for Love Mads Mathias, 2014 https://youtu.be/6 MA9Bk8KXY accessed July 2016
Mathias, Mads “Smoking Gun” Free Falling Release Concert 2012 https://youtu.be/V4ej121g3I4
accessed July 2016
O’Day, Anita “Tea for Two” Jazz On a Summers Day Raven Films, 1960 https://youtu.be/WTOHZXFEO5c
accessed August 2016
Porres, Nannie “Love For Sale” I Thought About You Odeon, 1971 https://youtu.be/PSO9FXBoY6U
accessed August 2016
Porres, Nannie “What a Little Moonlight Can Do” Beppe Wolgers 1967 https://youtu.be/KWJhS4kNXE accessed August 2016
Porres, Nannie “Willow Weep for Me” Jazz Från Det Svenska 70-Talet Caprice Records,
1974 https://youtu.be/2ejT0RZJppM accessed August 2016
Reys, Rita “After You’ve Gone” Jazz Sir, That’s Our Baby Fontana, 1963 https://youtu.be/PpY9Sm8wWOQ
83
accessed June 2016
Reys, Rita I Got It Bad (and That Ain’t Good); live at the North Sea Jazz Festival 1982
https://youtu.be/eR2dgSmabNk accessed June 2016
Reys, Rita I’m Old Fashioned TV Privé 1996 https://youtu.be/Yv0KmBIW5iY accessed
June 2016
Reys, Rita It’s Alright With Me; live at Grand Gala du Disc 1961 https://youtu.be/-Nxgc3zb7VE
accessed June 2016
Reys, Rita Thou Swell; Live at the Antibes Juan-les-Pins Jazz Festival 1960 https://youtu.be/vrag29iwGJY
accessed June 2016
Sinatra, Frank Come Fly With Me https://youtu.be/SLC5AGGHLz0 accessed August 2016
Tormé, Mel “‘Round Midnight” Jazz Round Midnight Verve, 1961 https://youtu.be/FDExcXk1C44
accessed September 2016
Watkiss, Cleveland Dear Mr Kahn watkissca 2011 https://youtu.be/UT3LoU-NBGo accessed July 2016
Watkiss, Cleveland Green Chimneys BBC 1989 https://youtu.be/LinDKLYGufw accessed
July 2016
Watkiss, Cleveland Let’s Face the Music and Dance; live at Ronnie Scott’s 2013 https://youtu.be/NVUm1crt8t0
accessed July 2016
Watkiss, Cleveland Live for Sligo Jazz Project Sligo Jazz Project, 2011 https://youtu.be/lpHo6cBjw00
accessed July 2016
Zetterlund, Monica Some Other Time 1965 https://youtu.be/Ob0HX84Fojk accessed August 2016
Zetterlund, Monica Trubbel, live 1968 https://youtu.be/C1E5iY6n1xk accessed August
2016
Zetterlund, Monica Waltz For Debbie 1966 https://youtu.be/8tp-nbchmHU accessed August 2016
Suggested Citation
Stefanie, R. (2017) Vocal Jazz Accent: Some of my best friends are American, in Medbøe,
H., Moir, Z., and Atton, C. (eds), Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe, Edinburgh, Continental Drift Publishing, 67–84
84
VOCAL JAZZ ACCENT: SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS ARE AMERICAN
Contributor Details
Renée Stefanie is a vocalist, specialising in Jazz through much of the broad spectrum that
the genre label implies. Born in the Netherlands, raised in New Zealand, based in Scotland
and with a debut album recorded in the South of France she is a musical amalgamation of
European and American influences who has been initially overwhelmed by, and ultimately
benefited from, exposure to a variety of strong musical ideas, opinions and expressions.
She lectures in popular music at Edinburgh Napier University where she strives to collaborate with students in exploring a breadth of musical concepts and ideas; encouraging
them to translate and interpret those ideas as tools to be utilised in the realisation of their
own musical styles. Her primary areas of academic interest relate to methodologies and
approaches to enhance creative practices, kinesthetic pedagogical approaches in relation
to abstract concepts, and the adaptation of vocal performance to suit variations of musical
context and creative intention.
7
‘OUT OF NOWHERE?’: PRE-WAR JAZZ
NETWORKS AND THE MAKING OF
POST-WAR BELGIAN JAZZ
Matthias Heyman
Dedicated to the memory of Toots
Thielemans, who passed during the
writing of this essay.
Shortly following the Second World War, a generation of highly successful Belgian jazz
musicians, among them Toots Thielemans, Bobby Jaspar and René Thomas, appeared on
the national music scene.1 Within a decade they were internationally active, having built
up a reputation so strong that they were asked to perform with such renowned performers
as George Shearing, Miles Davis and Sonny Rollins. Although their seemingly sudden
rise to worldwide fame made it seem as if they appeared virtually out of nowhere, they
in fact built upon pre-existing structures and support, most of which had been set up in
previous decades by a few pre-war jazz promoters. In this essay I examine some of the key
initiatives that facilitated this ‘golden’ generation’s international success, such as the Jazz
1
This essay is based on a paper presented at the ‘Continental Drift: 50 Years of Jazz from Europe’ conference
held on 16–17 July 2016 in Edinburgh (UK). My thanks go to Haftor Medbøe and Zack Moir for hosting this
conference, to my fellow presenters for the lively conversations, to Els Buffel for sharing her unique insights, and
to Marc Van den Hoof for the rare recordings of Thielemans and the Bob Shots. This research is funded by a
grant from the Research Programme of the Research Foundation – Flanders (FWO).
Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe.
Continental Drift Publishing - Copyright Retained by Individual Authors c 2017
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‘OUT OF NOWHERE?’: PRE-WAR JAZZ NETWORKS AND THE MAKING OF POST-WAR BELGIAN JAZZ
Club de Belgique and the amateur jazz contests it hosted, as such revealing the importance
such networks had on the dissemination and popularisation of jazz in Belgium, not only in
the Interwar period, but also during the 1940s and 1950s. Furthermore, some of the causes
and consequences of the narrow focus on these few men will be surveyed as well. Overall,
this essay is a good introduction to some of the pivotal musicians and intermediaries of
Belgium’s little known jazz history.
At the International Festival de Jazz (Paris, May 1949), organised for the second year
by the influential French intermediary Charles Delaunay, two Belgian bands were billed
next to such renowned names as Charlie Parker, Miles Davis, and Sidney Bechet: the
quartet of guitarist/harmonica player Jean-Baptiste ‘Toots’ Thielemans (1922–2016), and
a septet of youngsters from Liège, the Bob Shots. While Thielemans is arguably the most
familiar name today, his compatriots were also part of that same post-war generation of exceptionally successful Belgian jazz musicians, among them Bob Shots such as tenor saxophonist/flutist Robert ‘Bobby’ Jaspar (1926–1963), alto saxophonist Jacques Pelzer (1924–
1994), vibraphonist ‘Fats’ Sadi Lallemand (1927–2009), and pianist/composer François
‘Francy’ Boland (1929–2005), or others closely associated with this pivotal band, such as
guitarist René Thomas (1927–1975).
After gaining experience on the local Belgian scene, which centred mainly on the urban
centres of Brussels and Liège, several of them moved to Paris, one of Europe’s hotbeds
of jazz. Here, they soon became sought-after sideman, not only performing in the French
capital, but all over the Continent with the likes of Reinhardt, Chet Baker, André Hodeir,
and Kenny Clarke. By the mid-1950s, some even made it to the other side of the Atlantic:
Thielemans was a long-time member of the George Shearing Quintet, Thomas recorded
alongside Rollins, and Jaspar’s horn playing adorned the music of J.J. Johnson, Donald
Byrd, and Davis.
Because of their transnational success and subsequent high visibility, most critical and
scholarly attention has been dedicated to this first post-war generation. A number of Masters theses have been written about Thomas, Thielemans, and Jaspar, the latter two are the
subject of some biographies, and albums featuring them as sideman or leader have been
regularly reissued, much of their music now readily available, even in online music stores.2
The disproportionate attention for this single generation might create the impression that
jazz in Belgium really began to happen only in the past seventy years, as if these few men
singlehandedly lay the foundation for the future development of jazz in Belgium, a misconception that might even prompt further neglect of pre-war jazz and its performers. Indeed,
while the names of Thielemans, Jaspar, Thomas and Boland are to a certain extent known
to a wider public (even if only for their brief tenures with famous artists), those of Stan
Brenders, Fud Candrix, Jean Omer, and Chas Remue, all leading Belgian bandleaders in
the Interwar years, are today only remembered by a handful of (often local) aficionados.
A few other factors possibly further enhanced this post-war generation’s higher visibility, as such cementing the idea that pre- and post-war jazz are disconnected entities. One
such factor is the idea that the Nazi regime banned jazz—with its strong ‘Jewish-Negro’
influences certainly very un-Aryan—from the Third Reich’s public sphere during its reign
(Kater 1992: 20–24). This was to a certain extent true for the Fatherland itself—indeed,
local jazz musicians were increasingly controlled, censored, and raided, even though the
2
For these biographies and theses, see for example De Backer & Steenhorst 2009, Riem 1988, Schroeder
1997, Van Dijck 2001, and Wastiaux 1983. A more extensive bibliography of Belgian jazz can be
found on http://www.muzikaalerfgoed.be/voor-erfgoedliefhebbers/over-muzikaal-erfgoed/60-muzikaal-erfgoedvan-de-jazz/publicaties/154-de-jazzbiografie
87
music was never entirely absent from Nazi Germany, despite attempts to forbid it (ibid.:
passim)—but in occupied Belgium, the Netherlands, and Northern France the situation was
quite different.3 Due to a lenient local policy towards jazz, Belgian performers were able to
remain active throughout the entire occupation. Certainly, often titles were changed (e.g.,
‘At the Jazz Band Ball’ became ‘Bal du Rythme’) and musicians playing in too ‘jazzy’ a
style might have been fined or banned from the concert stage—although the German authorities no doubt had a hard time deciding where those limits lay—but it was relatively
easy to stage widely promoted concerts with highly visible musicians in major venues,
as Reinhardt’s appearance with the orchestras of Brenders and Candrix in the Brussels’
Palais des Beaux-Arts on 16–18 April of 1942 illustrates.4 Yet, an overgeneralisation of
the Nazi’s restriction on jazz within its own borders to the entire Third Reich might lead
some to believe that jazz in occupied Belgium temporarily disappeared from the public eye,
which in turn contributed to the idea of the Second World War as a breaking point. As such,
this cemented the idea that pre- and post-war jazz are disconnected entities, with the war
neatly separating performers and stylistic approaches from both ends of this time-frame.
Moreover, some fans and critics might have consciously looked for such a clean break
with the past. As several Belgian bands remained active during the Second World War,
some, such as those led by Candrix and Omer, even performing in venues in Berlin, they
unsurprisingly were seen as collaborators to the Nazi regime.5 While very few jazz musicians were actually convicted in the war trials that were held upon Belgium’s liberation,
their reputation was tainted, in some instances even ruined, not in the least because many
jazz fans no longer wished to be associated with them or their music.6 This might help to
explain why this once-so-popular generation was soon all but forgotten, whereas Thielemans’s generation was embraced fairly fast.7
Another level of disjunction might be perceived in terms of stylistic change. As Scott
DeVeaux (1997: 4) observes, one of the dominant approaches to explaining bebop is
through the trope of revolution, a ‘sharp break with the past that ushers in something genuinely new’. Indeed, bebop was often seen as the start of modern jazz—whatever is meant
by this vague term—and this post-war generation was the first in Belgium to fully embrace
to nascent sounds of this new, progressive style. As a result, these men’s perceived musical revolution was prioritised in discourses on Belgian jazz, and this to the detriment of
pre-war evolutions.
All of the above elements might have contributed to the misconception that Thielemans
and his peers sprang on the scene virtually out of nowhere, an erroneous assumption as each
3
For specifics on the Dutch situation, see Wouters 1999.
All public events, including jazz concerts, balls, and tournaments, had to be approved first by the Propaganda
Abteilung Belgien, which had little objection against permitting jazz manifestations as long as certain rules were
being observed in regards to repertoire (e.g., no ‘allied’ compositions), style (e.g., no ‘hot’ effects), and content
(e.g., no English or non-partisan lyrics). Naturally, many of these rules were relatively easy to circumvent, and
Candrix is even known to having performed ‘In the Mood’ at Berlin’s Delphi Palast on 1 May 1942 (Buffel 2008:
37).
5 Buffel 2008 is a good study on the role of many of these musicians and promoters in Nazi-occupied Belgium.
6 One such tragic case is that of Brenders, who since January 1936 led the jazz orchestra of the N.I.R./I.N.R.,
the Belgian national broadcasting corporation, which he continued to head during the war, now on the Nazified
Sender Brüssel. However, as he refused to perform outside of Belgium, and was even drafted by a branch of the
Belgium resistance, he didn’t believe he would be seen as a collaborator. He was arrested, but the court didn’t find
enough conclusive evidence to convict him. The national broadcasting corporation fired him nonetheless, which
led a disillusioned Brenders to retreat from musical life altogether. For more on Brenders, see the French-spoken
documentary Manneken Swing (Julien Bechara, 2015).
7 As an aside, Sadi took on the artist name ‘Fats’ (after Fats Waller) because his actual name, Lallemand, means
‘the German’ in French, an association he resented.
4
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‘OUT OF NOWHERE?’: PRE-WAR JAZZ NETWORKS AND THE MAKING OF POST-WAR BELGIAN JAZZ
new generation at least partially builds on the achievements of the previous one, not only
in musical terms—technically, creatively or stylistically—but also on the broader levels
of marketing, media, and management, in brief, the promotional networks surrounding
the performers. It is one such network I discuss below, one that originates in the pre-war
years but that had a significant impact on the reception and critical success of the post-war
generation.
Jazz Network in Pre-War Belgium Faec, Goffin, and the Jazz Club de Belgique
Two pivotal figures in this network are the promoter Félix-Robert Faecq (1901–1992), and
the author Robert Goffin (1898–1984). Both men were pursuing their love for jazz already
early on: In June 1922, Goffin published an anthology of poems entitled Jazz Band, and
two years later, in October 1924, Faecq created Musique Magazine, the first Belgian music
journal to run a weekly column dedicated to jazz.8 At this time Faecq was already active
as a sales representative for the British record label Edison Bell Winner as well as several
American music publishers, such as A.J. Stasny Music Company. In 1925, he founded
his own record store, Universal Music Store, and publishing company, International Music
Company. By now he had also changed the name of Musique Magazine to the more international sounding Music, a first step towards orienting the journal exclusively towards
jazz, a transformation that was fully completed by early 1931. Goffin, on the other hand,
focused in the late 1920s mainly on building up a career as a lawyer, but jazz remained his
true love. Starting January 1930, a series of his articles on the history of jazz appeared in
Music which he eventually reworked into a book, published in 1932 under the name Aux
Frontières du Jazz, the first true study on jazz to appear in Belgium.
In late 1931, Faecq, Goffin, and a few others decided to form an organization dedicated
to the promotion of jazz in Belgium, and the idea was presented to Music’s readership in
March of the following year. The Jazz Club de Belgique, as it was baptised, was officially founded in December 1932, its creation formally announced in that month’s edition
of Music. Its mission was part recreational, for example by holding regular commented
listening sessions, and part promotional, for example by negotiating more airtime for jazz
with the public broadcasting corporation. The first initiative by the Jazz Club de Belgique—although it really was Faecq who did most of the work—was the organisation of
the first national competition for amateur jazz bands, held in Brussels in December 1932.
This edition was so successful that it became a yearly event, and in 1934 the first international tournament was held, two years later followed by regional contests all over Belgium.
These concours soon became highly anticipated events, as each edition was followed by a
ball sure to attract a crowd of notables and youngsters alike, while celebrated guest artists
such as Coleman Hawkins were asked to top the bill, with a well-attended jam session
closing the night. As such these jazz competitions didn’t merely offer budding musicians
a chance to be discovered—the jury comprised leading artists as well as important critics—but also heightened the visibility and popularity of jazz through its pragmatic mix of
competition, entertainment, socialisation, and performance.
Music, the Jazz Club de Belgique, and the jazz contests were far from isolated events
in Europe. Around the same time several such initiatives could be found in many of Belgium’s neighbouring countries. France had its now-famed Hot Club de France (November
8
The history of Musique Magazine, in April 1925 renamed Music, as well as much of Faecq’s career is discussed
in Heyman 2015.
89
1932) and the journal Jazz-Tango (October 1930, in December 1931 renamed Jazz-TangoDancing, next Jazz Hot in March 1935), in the Netherlands De Jazzwereld appeared since
August 1931, and with the Nederlandsche Hotclub (in 1935 renamed the Nederlandsche
Jazz Liga), it had its own promotional organ since March 1933. Slightly later, in July 1933,
No. 1 Rhythm Club was founded in London, as such being the first such hot club in the
United Kingdom, while magazines dedicating space to jazz already existed since January
1926 (The Melody Maker) and December 1927 (Rhythm). Several other countries sooner
or later had their own jazz magazines and hot clubs, but also jazz (or dance band) competitions were regularly held, with known examples from the United Kingdom (as early
as March 1925), the Netherlands and Austria (both December 1931), and France (not until February 1937).9 These parallels were not coincidental, as many of the key figures
in each nation’s hot club were in close contact with one another, taking inspiration from
each other and occasionally working together. Take for example Music, which through
an entente with several foreign jazz journals offered its readership the possibility to easily
(and cheaply) subscribe to such magazines as De Jazzwereld, Jazz-Tango, and the Swiss
Jazz. A more concrete type of such cooperation occurred on the level of the international
jazz tournaments. Between 1934 and 1938, Belgium and the Netherlands co-jointly organised several such tournaments, attracting contenders from both countries, but also from
the United Kingdom, France, and Switzerland. Moreover, ever since the second national
competition, in November 1933, the jury always comprised members from outside of Belgium as well, selected from the pan-European network Faecq and Goffin were gradually
building up, such as the editors of De Jazzwereld or Rhythm, and prominent musicians
such as French violinist Stéphane Grappelli or Dutch pianist Theo Uden Masman. Finally,
in 1939, the Jazz Club de Belgique was in close contact with its British pendant in order to
plan a yearly continental contest alternately held in Europe’s capitals. Unfortunately, this
never materialised as it soon became clear that yet another war in Europe was unavoidable.
A War on Two Fronts: Old vs New Hot Clubs
On the 10th of May 1940, Nazi Germany successfully circumvented the Maginot Line,
France’s main defence line against Germany, by waltzing through Belgium in a mere eighteen days, as such violating the nation’s neutral status. As noted before, the German occupation only had a limited impact on Belgium’s jazz scene. While it was certainly necessary
to be cautious about expressing admiration for Jewish and African-American performers, it
was still possible to attend jazz concerts, to hear regular broadcasts of Brenders’ band and
others on Sender Brüssel, and to join meetings of the hot clubs and many of its activities,
such as the jazz tournoi.10
Yet, this doesn’t mean that there were no consequences at all. Faecq, who as early as
1933 had criticized the Nazi regime’s cultural policy in an article for Music, decided to fold
the magazine in order to avoid any restrictions on its content, and its final issue appeared
at the end of 1939. It wasn’t until January 1945 that another jazz journal, L’Actualité Musicale was launched, leaving Belgian jazz fans without a trusted periodical for four years.
Something else they had to do without was the expert guidance of Goffin, who, given his
9
For more information on these magazines, the hot clubs, and the competitions, see Heyman 2015.
Such concerts were often billed as ‘modern’, ‘rhythmic’, or ‘dance’ music, but also the word ‘jazz’ was still
prominently seen in advertisements since it was considered an international term by the Propaganda Abteilung.
‘Swing’ and ‘hot’, however, were avoided as they were deemed ‘American’ (Buffel 2008: 63).
10
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‘OUT OF NOWHERE?’: PRE-WAR JAZZ NETWORKS AND THE MAKING OF POST-WAR BELGIAN JAZZ
open status as an anti-fascist (not only against the NSDAP, but also against the local Rexist
Party), fled Belgium upon its invasion. He lived in exile in the United States for the duration
of the war, striking up a friendship with another European jazz promoter, the Brit Leonard
Feather. Together the pair organised several lecture series and produced events such as the
now-famed Esquire Jazz concerts. Goffin returned to Belgium in 1945, but as the newer
styles began to emerge, his interest in jazz gradually waned, leading him to pursue his other
interests, such as poetry, instead. The most drastic consequence of the German occupation
was the shift in power balance, in effect causing the diminishing influence of Faecq and the
Jazz Club de Belgique. A few other hot clubs, many of which limited themselves to pure
recreational activities, already existed before the war, such as Sweet & Hot (1932), Swing
& Rhythm (1936), and the Cotton Club de Belgique (1937), but the Jazz Club de Belgique
was the most prominent and active club, with regional sections throughout the country and
close contacts with sister hot clubs from abroad (Buffel 2008: 50). In 1942, another hot
club, the Club Rythmique de Belgique, began to monopolise the organisation of virtually
all jazz events in Belgium, and in no time gained the upper hand, drawing members into
the thousands, as such bringing the Jazz Club de Belgique close to the brink of extinction.
The difficulties began well before the war. Around 1938, several members of the Jazz
Club de Belgique’s regional section of Brussels grew discontent with what they perceived
as too strong a focus on so-called white, commercialised forms of jazz, and this to the detriment of the more authentic, black forms. The same ‘hot vs sweet’ discussion that eventually led in part to the fierce strife between Delaunay and Hugues Panassié, the founding
fathers of the Hot Club de France, also affected the Jazz Club de Belgique. On 1 April
1939, several leaders of the Brussels section, among them Willy de Cort (1914–2002), Albert Bettonville (1916–2000), and Baron Carlos de Radzitzky d’Ostrowick (1915–1985),
created their own club, the Hot Club de Belgique (Pernet 2001). The club grew steadily,
and during the occupation de Cort, who presided over the new hot club, changed its name
to the Club Rythmique de Belgique in order to avoid difficulties with the local Propaganda
Abteilung. He clearly held high ambitions for the club, as by the end of 1941, he allied
himself and his hot club with Antoine Jongenelen, AKA Tony Young, an up-and-coming
impresario determined to take over the organisational dominance held by Faecq.
Sometime before, Jongenelen had approached Faecq with a proposition to cooperate
since the former had good contacts within the Propaganda Abteilung Belgien, a benefit
that would give them virtually free reign to organise any jazz event they wanted (Buffel
2008: 80). However, Faecq refused, likely for ideological reasons (Jongenelen, originally
from the Netherlands, was a member of the Dutch fascist party Nationaal-Socialistische
Beweging), but also because thus far he had been able to stage all events without intervention from inside the local German authorities (ibid.).11 As a result, a resentful Jongenelen
sided with some of Faecq’s former associates, all of which had their own reasons to thwart
him. De Cort, for example, sought to increase the prestige and membership numbers of his
own Club Rythmique, often with questionable methods. When Faecq booked the Palais
des Beaux-Arts for the second war-time edition of the Jazz Club de Belgique’s jazz contest, on 7 November 1942, de Cort planned the Club Rythmique’s tournament on the exact
same day and location, pulling strings with the Propaganda Abteilung (possibly through
Jongenelen) to force the administration of the Palais des Beaux-Arts to transfer the rental
contract to him (ibid.: 93–94). Faecq found himself without a location, and had to cancel
the entire event.
11
Up until 1942, events staged by Faecq, often acting for the Jazz Club de Belgique, seem to have been routinely
approved.
91
Jongenelen too successfully challenged Faecq’s position. On 31 December 1941, the
latter was arrested by the Gestapo for some minor infractions (such as the possession of a
series of publicity shots of ‘Jewish’, read: Benny Goodman, and African-American jazz
musicians), and upon his release three weeks later, he was prohibited from further organising public concerts, at least under his own name (ibid.: 81–84).12 This opened the door
to Jongenelen, who by early 1942 seems to have been considered Belgium’s ‘official’ jazz
promoter by the German military command (Belgium had a Militärverwaltung instead of
a Zivilverwaltung, as in the Netherlands for example), in effect acting as an intermediary
between the artists and the Propaganda Abteilung, a position that allowed him to block
as many events by the Jazz Club de Belgique as possible (ibid.: 80–81). On 7 November
1942, the local Brussels section—the very same section from which a dissident group had
seceded in 1939—reported that nearly all activity had dried up as the result of ‘the monopolisation of the “Rhythmic” Club’s concert organisation’, in effect rendering it ‘theoretically
and practically impossible for us to organise concerts’ (anon. 1942).13 By mid-1942, Jongenelen, de Cort and the Club Rythmique de Belgique held a near-exclusive monopoly
on the Belgian jazz scene, and Faecq and the Jazz Club de Belgique no longer played a
significant role during the war years.
Jazz Networks in Post-War Belgium: Bettonville, de Radzitzky, and the Hot
Club de Belgique
Little less than three months after D-Day, the allied forces reached Belgium, and the nation’s government, which was in exile in the United Kingdom, was reinstated on 8 September 1944.14 Soon several of the important actors of the Belgian jazz scene, including de
Cort and Jongenelen, found themselves arrested and put to trail during the post-war repression against collaboration. Whether they were actually convicted is unknown as the
files of these military tribunals are still classified, but Jongenelen seems to have completely
disappeared from the jazz scene afterwards. De Cort, on the other hand, continued to lead
the Club Rythmique, now again under its original name, the Hot Club de Belgique, until at
least the mid-1950s. Unfortunately, Faecq and the Jazz Club de Belgique, fared less well.
They never recovered from the sudden coup d’état by de Cort and the Club Rythmique de
Belgique, and although Faecq remained active within the music business, he never truly
regained the pivotal position he had once held. Also, the Jazz Club de Belgique, which
he led until his death in 1992, was no longer an organisation of substance, with far less
members than the Hot Club, and no activities to speak of.
Bettonville and de Radzitzky, formerly members of the Jazz Club de Belgique and now
on the board of the Hot Club de Belgique, stepped into this void. Both had already been
active before the war, for example through presenting radio programs on jazz, or writing,
taking cues from their main mentor Goffin, but it wasn’t until after the war that they began
to emerge as Belgium’s principal intermediaries. While seemingly never directly involved
in Jongenelen’s economic collaboration or de Cort’s (at times) unethical scheming, they,
together with the latter, continued the Hot Club’s activities by regularly organising concerts
12
Officially speaking, the Jazz Club de Belgique could still organise events, such as the yearly competitions,
provided they were permitted by the German authorities.
13 Translation by the author.
14 The liberation wasn’t truly completed until February 1945, when the last German troops retreated from Belgium following the so-called Battle of the Bulge.
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‘OUT OF NOWHERE?’: PRE-WAR JAZZ NETWORKS AND THE MAKING OF POST-WAR BELGIAN JAZZ
and contests, as well as taking over several of the tasks Faecq had once managed, such as
publishing a national jazz journal that also acted as the house organ of the Hot Club.15 In
1948, the pair came up with a new initiative. Between 14 and 17 August, Bettonville and
de Radzitzky staged the Festival Européen du Jazz in Ostend and Knokke, two popular
Belgian seaside resorts. Such a jazz festival was not a first. Earlier that year, Panassié and
Delaunay, France’s chief promoters, had separately organised the very first truly international jazz festivals, Panassié in February in Nice, and Delaunay in May in Paris. In all
three instances, Belgium was represented by budding, post-war jazz musicians stemming
from a generation that was among the first in Europe to focus on the progressive sounds
coming from across the Atlantic: Thielemans and the men from the Bob Shots. Their
participation to these festivals would prove to be a decisive moment in their early careers.
Both had roots in earlier jazz styles. Around 1944, the Bob Shots arose from the remnants of a Dixieland/swing combo called Session d’une Heure, and in 1946, Thielemans
briefly played guitar in the big band of famed swing trumpeter Robert De Kers. But as the
first 78 discs carrying the sounds of so-called modern jazz reached Belgium, they became
converts almost immediately. One such disc is ‘Oop Bop Sh’Bam’, which was recorded by
its composer, Dizzy Gillespie, on 15 May 1946, with more renditions to follow by Kenny
Clarke, then an ex-pat in France (5 September), and Billy Eckstine’s orchestra (5 October).
A few months later, on 10 February 1947, the Bob Shots waxed their own version, including oddly altered vocals, the original ‘a klook-a-mop’ replaced by ‘a-mic a-mac’.16 While
by no means a masterpiece, it does show how eager the Belgian combo was on adopting the
new bebop sounds.17 That they were able to learn this and other bop tunes (later compositions would include Tadd Dameron’s ‘Our Delight’, Parker’s ‘Relaxin’ At Camarillo’ and
Monk’s ‘Thelonious’) fairly fast was because Robert’s brother, who resided in the United
States, sent over such 78s the moment they were released (Schroeder 2004: disc 2). While
this lucky coincidence helped them absorb bebop much faster than most other Belgian
bands, it didn’t produce any performance opportunities. For this, they still relied primarily
on pre-existing initiatives with roots in the pre-war jazz scene. Indeed, their breakthrough
can be largely attributed to the amateur jazz contests that have been held nearly every year
since 1932.
They won their first victory at the Hot Club de Belgique’s national jazz competition on
28 September 1946, at that time still with a swing-oriented repertoire, but one year later, at
the Championnat International de Jazz, they convinced a jury comprising Bettonville and
de Radzitzky to give them the first prize, now with a largely ‘boppish’ repertoire, including
Gillespie’s ‘Night in Tunisia’ and Howard McGhee’s ‘Up in Dodo’s Room’. The Bob
Shots impressed both promoters so deeply that it soon became the unofficial house band
15 From March to November 1945, Bettonville and de Radzitzky were the chief editors of Jazz, which in January
1946 transformed into Hot Club Magazine (Henceval 1991: 36). This journal was discontinued after August
1948, but between November 1948 and October 1956, the Hot Club continued to inform its members with a
two-page inlay in the French Jazz Hot (ibid.).
16 ‘Mic mac’ denotes a mess in the local dialect from Liège, the hometown of many of the Bob Shots (Schroeder
1997: 131). Unfortunately, this and all other records by the Bob Shots have not been reissued as of yet.
17 The Bob Shots, named after two of the key members’ nicknames, Jaspar and founder/guitarist Pierre Robert,
had several members throughout its brief existence (July 1945 to mid-1949), but its core personnel comprised
the two Bobby’s, Pelzer, trumpeter Jean Bourguignon, and by 1946, Sadi as well. Some, such as Thomas and
Thielemans, were never officially part of the band, but they belonged to their inner circle of friends and were
known to frequently jam with them (leading some to mistake them for a Bob Shot).
93
of the Hot Club de Belgique, with performances at concerts hosted by the club and raving
reviews regularly appearing in Hot Club Magazine.18
Another favourite of these Belgian intermediaries was Thielemans, who had followed
another trajectory than the Bob Shots. A genuine Brusseleir, he was right at the centre of
the Belgian jazz scene, partaking many jam sessions and freelancing with various bands
ranging from duos with accordion, to large dance orchestras. Most importantly, he already
early on acquainted Bettonville and de Radzitzky, who recognized his prodigious talent
and strong will to carve out a musical career. Furthermore, Thielemans was immediately
drawn to bebop, and quickly assimilated many of its characteristic into his own style. In the
eyes of both intermediaries, this made him another ideal candidate to represent Belgium at
the various international festivals.
1948 saw the start of a series of international jazz festivals: In February Panassié organised the very first such festival in Nice, which was followed upon a mere three months
later in Paris, hosted by Delaunay, by now in fierce competition with his former friend. A
similar jazz festival was put on that same summer in Ostend and Knokke by Bettonville
and de Radzitzky. Unfortunately, the following year the Nice edition was disbanded—it
wasn’t held for another 23 years—but Delaunay managed to stage a second, yet also final
edition of the Paris festival, the Festival International de Jazz, now best remembered for
the European debut of luminaries such as Parker and Davis.
On all these occasions the program featured a mix of international jazz performers, with
bands from the United Kingdom, Switzerland, Italy, France, the Netherlands, and Belgium,
and, in the case of the French festivals, several high-profile American musicians, such as
Louis Armstrong (Nice 1948), Hawkins (Paris 1948), and Parker (Paris 1949). As the
Knokke and Ostend jazz festival were organised by the Hot Club de Belgique, the Bob
Shots were automatically programmed, but for the French festivals, the hot clubs of the
represented European countries were asked to send their best. Most went for a traditional
pick, with for example the Netherlands being represented by the Dutch Swing College
Band, and the United Kingdom by trumpeter Humphrey Lyttelton, but with the Bob Shots
and Thielemans, Bettonville and de Radzitzky sent out Belgium’s first true bop formations,
and while not of the level of Parker, Davis, Kenny Dorham or James Moody (all present
in Paris 1949), they certainly captured the spirit of this progressive music very well, as
evidenced by the sides they recorded while in Paris for the 1949 festival.
For the young Belgians their participation to these festivals proved to be a decisive moment in their careers, in particular the Paris 1949 edition, for, as an unexpected bonus,
Delaunay invited them to record several sides for the French label Pacific, the result being
a valuable ‘invitation card’ to hand to prospective promoters.19 Within three years, Thielemans had left for the United States, and never looked back. The Bob Shots, on the other
hand, went their individual ways. In May 1949, the band had in fact already disbanded,
and it was only because this festival offered too good an opportunity to miss that they
18
In fact, they not only impressed the jury. When word got out they were planning on participating to the 1948
regional tournament in Liège, de Cort, whose Hot Club de Belgique staged these tournoi, asked them to refrain
from participating as they scared away other potential contenders. Instead, they were offered a concert outside
of the competition as well as their automatic selection for the next national contest, both of which they didn’t
pursue.
19 The sessions for Pacific took place in Paris on the 13th of May 1949. The Bob Shots waxed a total of twelve
tracks, six tunes with two takes each, and Thielemans and his trio (billed as Toots Thielemans’ Quartet [sic] du
Hot Club de Belgique) recorded eight tracks, four tunes with two takes each (Pernet 1999/2004, 82 & 658). For
both, these were their first truly commercially released records under their own name. While reissued on the
British Nixa label in the early 1950s, these sides are today no longer readily available.
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‘OUT OF NOWHERE?’: PRE-WAR JAZZ NETWORKS AND THE MAKING OF POST-WAR BELGIAN JAZZ
decided too hastily reunite. Now, it split for good as some members (Pelzer) decided to
stay in Belgium, whereas others (Jaspar, Sadi) tried to build up a career in Europe’s most
vibrant jazz capital, Paris. They were soon joined by other ambitious Belgians, such as
Thomas and Boland, and formed a Belgian ‘colony’ in high demand with the city’s top
performers. A few years later, in the mid-1950s, Jaspar and Thomas decided even Paris
was too small for them, and went trans-Atlantic. Together with Thielemans, they were the
very first Belgians to (partially) built up a career in the United States. While it was their
technical prowess and musical imagination that made them such excellent musicians, it
was the support provided by Bettonville, de Radzitzky, and the Hot Club de Belgique that
enabled them to be discovered internationally, as such truly launching their careers. This
support, mainly through structures such as trade journals and jazz tournaments, had been
set up in earlier decades by the previous generation of promoters, Faecq, Goffin, and the
Jazz Club de Belgique. As such, it is fair to say that the post-war Belgian jazz scene was
at least partially created by the pre-war networks.
While this essay only focused on one specific milieu within one specific time frame,
similar situations undoubtedly occurred elsewhere as well, especially considering the fact
that many of the key components of the described Belgian network, such as the promoters,
the hot clubs, the jazz magazines, the contests, and the festivals, could sooner or later be
found in other countries as well. Take for example the role men such as John Hammond or
Norman Granz played in the careers of many American (jazz) musicians, or how Django
Reinhardt was brought to international fame through his association with the Hot Club de
France. While these specific examples are well documented, more research is needed to
reveal the role played by other promoters, their activities, and the network they belonged
to, in disseminating jazz, in popularising the genre and its performers, and in helping to
build up a regional, national, or international music scene.
Naturally, some other pivotal aspects that enhanced the successful rise of certain artists,
bands, or styles, such as the radio, the publishing companies, the record industry, and
the general press, are for the sake of space not included in this discussion. While these
certainly played a role in the emergence of Thielemans and the Bob Shots, these were of
lesser importance. However, in other instances such promotional tools are worth surveying
as well as these too might help to explain the critical success of certain musicians or styles.
Overall, I hope to have illuminated the importance such a broad and solid pre-war network had on Belgium’s national post-war jazz scene, not only in terms of the personal
careers of a few individuals, but also on a broader scale. For it would be Thielemans,
Jaspar, Thomas, and their peers that became the first truly widely known jazz musicians
to emerge from Belgium, as such putting this tiny Western-European nation on the global
jazz map.
References
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Musical Instruments Museum, Brussels.
Buffel, Els. 2008. ‘Jazz Als Protest? Een Onderzoek Naar de Toonaangevende
Organisatoren van Jazzevenementen en Orkestleiders in Bezet België (1940–1944).’ Mas-
95
ter’s Thesis, Universiteit Gent.
De Backer, Peter, and René Steenhorst. 2012. Toots 90. Gent: Borgerhoff & Lamberigts.
DeVeaux, Scott. 1997. The Birth of Bebop: A Social and Musical History. Berkeley:
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Emile Henceval (ed.). 1991. Dictionnaire du Jazz à Bruxelles et en Wallonie. Liège: Pierre
Mardaga.
Heyman, Matthias. 2015. ‘Music (1924-1939): A History of Belgium’s First Jazz Journal’.
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Van Dijck, Mimi. 2001. ‘Bobby Jaspar’. Master’s Thesis, Catholic University of Leuven.
Wastiaux, Albert. 1983. ‘Certains Aspects sur le Langage Musical de René Thomas, Guitariste Belge’. Master’s Thesis, Free University of Brussels.
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Suggested Citation
Heyman, M. (2017) ’Out of Nowhere?’: Pre-war jazz networks and the making of post-war
Belgian jazz, in Medbøe, H., Moir, Z., and Atton, C. (eds), Continental Drift: 50 years of
jazz from Europe, Edinburgh, Continental Drift Publishing, 85–96.
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Contributor Details
Matthias Heyman is currently finalising his PhD research at the University of Antwerp
in affiliation with the Royal Antwerp Conservatoire, where he obtained his MA in Jazz
Performance (Double Bass). In his research he seeks to contextualise the bass playing of
Ellingtonian Jimmie Blanton (1918-1942). In 2011, Matthias led a research project on
Belgian jazz heritage, and he continues to specialise in his country’s jazz history. He is
also active as a freelance double bassist, and is a lecturer of jazz history at the Jazz Studio
(Antwerp), the LUCA School of Arts (Leuven), and the University and Conservatory of
Amsterdam (the Netherlands). Matthias has published in journals such as Journal of Jazz
Studies and Current Research in Jazz, besides presenting at several international conferences.