June, 1996
Last night, my main man was on the tube. That is Albert Murray. I have been looking, but not too hard, for his book 'the Omni-Americans' lo these many years. I must say that Brian lamb as consummate host brought forth the gut of this man in a way almost unheard of for television.He said a couple things which stick with me this morning. The first was that for him, literature was a religion. It is a defining entity that helps him discover where he is. I wish I had the words... But I look at a man such as Murray who represents to me something of the ultimate citizen and wonder how it is that such people languish in obscurity. What must we face before we recognize the reflective dignity of such men and their projects for us as regards the truth and soul of American identity.
In all things black as I see them, there is a current of provocation and confrontation. Murray takes that at face value and (perhaps) in the person of Malcolm X, finds much to be dismissed. He is correct in his wry assertion about 'the fire next time' that the power of America would put the fire out by next Wednesday. And was not Los Angeles proof? But he seems to cut no slack for those with the understanding that this confrontation has no expectation of conquering and is not vain on the point. It seems that few can get past the provocative face and on to the soul. I don't believe that most blacks, in their existential provocation, harbor a combative soul. But more an elusive one, like the rabbit in the briar patch to which Murray often alludes. Bugs bunny is black. He's smart assed and violent, but perpetually on the run from Elmer Fudd with his mansion, yacht and gun. But there is nothing essentially or constructively harsh about bugs or blackness.
Murray has absolutely no qualms about trumpeting the brilliance, uniqueness and unsurpassed quality of the American social contract. As well he finds ultimate value in the universality of human affirmation. There is not a trace of post-modernism in the man. He is old school and steeped in the particulars. It is admirable to me, to see someone whose life is constrained by the nobility of old intellectuality - who has had the privilege of reading the right books at the right time when doing so was clearly valuable in this society. I find it difficult if not impossible to assess the value of having read Thomas Mann --then again, I take a lot for granted. I think of the notion of the British Empire which conquered the world armed with bravado, logic, Latin and Greek literature and nary a calculator. That the idea of a civilized gentleman had weight. Are we such people, will we ever be? It seems to me that we are, and that we still search for a sort of negotiable nobility, be it in Afrocentric or even neo-conservative colors. But our emphasis on our own particulars has almost no credibility. Something gets in the way of moving towards some absolute value of universality which bogs us down in these existential shells from which we battle and so we doubt that there is anything out there of value worth 'transcending' for. It shows its face in the naiveté of 'colorblindness'. Yet when Murray speaks of Faulkner, Hemingway and of Thomas Mann, he evokes something held high with such passion and determination that we Americans just might get it. Yet who would dare commit to literature as religion?
In Africa, said Murray, there was no equivalent anywhere of the abolitionist movement or the Underground Railroad. When Jefferson and others illuminated their contract, something was made so bright that all who witnessed were transformed. Murray speaks of the constitution, declaration and bill of rights, the emancipation proclamation and of the Gettysburg address as literary evidence of a true evolution of thought which enabled Africans here and people everywhere to reconsider their identity and possibilities in society. Not even for the aristocracy under the Magna Charta, said Murray, were people availed of such freedom. The moral weight of such thinking remains unsurpassed.
It is the artists/writer's responsibility, according to Murray to infuse with particulars and detail with idiomatic style the concepts which bring forth connotations of that great progress in thought. In so doing, one can truly call one's art American and since that great American ideal *is* universal one can identify one's creation in service to humanity. For him, no one better exemplifies such creation than Ellington and Basie. For their orchestrations on the blues, as a dialog against the tragedy of life, bring to life true greatness in song - that swinging spirit which conquers through elegance.
With that being the case, it would be difficult to identify who better carries on this musical tradition in a knowing way than Wynton Marsalis. As a virtuoso, his mastery evades being bogged down by the existential coloration of instrumentality. Thus he can play the purest notes. As a conscientious individual brought up in the new Orleans jazz idiom, he stretches way back to exemplify some greatness with an authentic flavor the lived beauty of which *is* the spark of life. The blue note swung is the sunlight on the fish’s belly, the sparkle in the sweat on the wine bottle.
Yet something about Wynton has always had that self-conscious awareness of those embarked on great journeys. He has always embodied and worn the mark of a generational imperative. Consider his debut jazz recording 'think of one'. What could be more bold?
It is that boldness which I think about, and fearlessness which must be compared and contrasted to provocation and confrontation in reconciling the existentials of blackness. Blackness cannot and does not stand on its own, and it cannot be expected that the black person achieve the virtuosity of Marsalis or Murray. But to take up the attitude is a given, for how many of us stand to be counted as Negroes, and what charter does African American identity bring other than a reconciliation with Afrocentrism and the possibility of diasporic identity? (that's too big for this space).
In the great spectrum of jazz composition and performance in the blues aesthetic there are all pointers to that great leap forward in social thinking. Ultimately, that is the value of the art, in evoking the sentiments associated with the promise of that social contract. In Marasalis' 'Majesty of the Blues' and 'In This House On This Morning', I have found the deepest expressions yet. If in that spectrum, the attitude and orientation remains consistent and criticism directs, then in fact there will be progress in talent which will move the art forward and better reify the great ideas. As each performer, no matter what their skill level, or instrument riffs the swinging blue note, greater grows the chorus of freedom.
So it is with black identity. Whether or not we weather the stinging scrutiny of the masters, our orientation and essential acceptance of that which is our heritage here as exemplified in the underground railroad, justifies our attitude. Let us not be mistaken for those with bitter souls, and let not our attitude bring us to that. But lets find the proper use of boldness, fearlessness, provocation and confrontation as hallmarks of our existence as we scamper through the briar patch ever increasing our fundamental virtuosity.