New Orleans jazz musicians often composed their own jazz solos by ear over time, which came off as improvised to their audiences. As asserted by Bob Wilber, New Orleans clarinetist and saxophonist Sidney Bechet gave his students his “improvised” solos on popular jazz standards as a pedagogical tool. The most famous manifestation of Bechet’s gifting occurs in the standard, “The Sheik of Araby,” recorded by the Duke Ellington Orchestra in 1932 and Sidney Bechet’s One-Man Band in 1941. In the former case, Ellington hired former band member and rising star Bechet as an arranger for this standard. Instead of sending in manuscripts, however, Bechet arrived in-person to teach the band and their soloist, Johnny Hodges, his arrangement, leaving trombonist Juan Tizol and others to quickly transcribe what he taught. Using archival evidence from the Smithsonian Institution from this session in 1932 and my own transcriptions of recordings from 1932 and 1941, I argue that Bechet taught Hodges his own improvised soprano saxophone solo, allowing him, as his former student, to embody Bechet’s persona while injecting moments of his own individuality. With the 1932 recording in mind, Bechet’s own recording of the solo in 1941 offered him the opportunity to recreate and recontextualize his musical creation. These two recordings are remarkable in their own right, but this relationship reveals essential musical and historical context for both pieces.
As a towering figure in music in the twentieth century, John Coltrane has made innumerable contributions. One of the most significant aspects of his career are his blues compositions and improvisations. Many of Coltrane’s written blues heads, as well as his opening and closing solo choruses, follow sentential structures. Somewhat surprisingly, this particular part of his output has been left underexplored in existing research projects. In hopes of also contributing to a fairly recent discussion that centers around efforts to revamp the sentential paradigm, I introduce the formal type of the “blues sentences,” and contrast it with the riff blues, and other designs. Moreover, I also introduce the riff-sentence hybrid and the two subcategories of through-composed blues types (a) line-driven melodies and (b) modular melodies. In the effort to establish a sentential perspective, I do not dismiss traditional bar form readings but rather supplement my interpretations with them in order to highlight the respective advantages and disadvantages.
In the rich and complex history of women in jazz, Lil Hardin Armstrong’s All-Girl Orchestra, sometimes referred to as either the Harlem Harlicans or the Chicago Creolians, stands out as being particularly mysterious. Often referenced but never discussed in any detail, accounts of Hardin’s group are limited, usually vague, and often possess glaring inconsistencies, including the years that the band was active, conflicting accounts of the band’s activities, and even disagreement on the name of the group itself. However, through detailed archival research, a rich and comprehensive story can be pieced together that not only provides missing specifics, such as the band’s personnel, tour dates, and business dealings, but also offers insights into Hardin’s motivations for leading the group and the obstacles she encountered. Fuelled by a desire to adopt the modern compositional and arranging techniques of the emerging swing movement and managed in close collaboration with bassist/cellist Olivia Shipp and violinist Mae Brady, Hardin and her All-Girl Orchestra serves as a flashpoint in early jazz history, not just for female-driven entrepreneurship, but of pioneering creativity and an inter-generational mentorship that had a far-reaching impact on the early development of the African-American ‘all-girl’ swing band movement of the 1930s and 40s.
In this piece, I consider concepts of time, the history of archives and provenance, how time is considered in archival arrangement and description, and how these speak to my experiences completing the processing of three interrelated record groups at the Institute of Jazz Studies that center on the great Mary Lou Williams: the Mary Lou Williams Collection, the Mary Lou Williams Foundation Collection, and the Peter O’Brien papers. It is hoped that the piece will provide insight into the perspectives I find retrospectively meaningful when reflecting on the work of processing those materials and preparing the related finding aids, perspectives which draw from literature, philosophy, science, film, and music. I am indebted to my colleagues, including one I never had the pleasure to meet, Annie Kuebler, who preceded me in working on the collections.
In response to the historical domination of patriarchy of those overlapping and mutually constituting spaces of education, performance, and sociality that I call “jazz ecologies," a multitude of voices demanding reform continues to grow. Multiple movements animated by the relational logic of Black Feminism have been initiated to better represent and create opportunities for women, non-binary, and queer people in jazz. This short piece outlines some recent work being done by three such groups creating feminist-informed interventions: the Berklee Center for Jazz and Gender Justice (JGJ), the Women in Jazz Organization (WIJO), and This Is A Movement (TIAM). In various ways these organizations offer support through material, educational, and performance opportunities rooted in identity-based values that specifically serve persons and communities with underrepresented subject positions. Historical context and insights from recent interviews with leadership from these organizations offers a window into the values, actions, and outcomes of ongoing feminist movements in jazz ecologies.
Despite insights gained from studies of algorithmic cultures, the extent to which online platforms impact artistic practice and career potential in jazz music has been little examined. This study expands recent knowledge in relation to the affordances of online platforms for jazz musicians, drawing attention to jazz’s gendered dimensions within networked music sites. It examines how jazz musicians adapt to online ecosystems, variably retaining established gendered performance conventions yet updating them to attract new audiences. A critical perspective on current modes of music performance and promotion within jazz genre, recently coined as “viral jazz,” is spotlighted as the context within which Korean American jazz saxophonist Grace Kelly has developed her virally attuned polygeneric jazz aesthetics. Through a multi-faceted study of her prolific performances and promotional strategies online, the study reveals how combined expertise of “algotorial” curation systems with acquired wisdom regarding pervasive cultural and gendered ideologies stimulates innovative promotional and performance contexts for Kelly as a virtuosic female multi-instrumentalist. Yet these new contexts contain residues of entrenched hierarchical gendered performance expectations and ideological evaluative contexts. Given the continued power of these historically prominent categories, online platforms are revealed as failing to fully upend the hyper-masculinity and male domination promoted by pre-digital jazz institutions. Nevertheless, they afford critical exposure for especially entrepreneurial and polygeneric jazz musicians such as Kelly and jazz-oriented vocalist and composer Laufey, two of the few twenty-first century jazz musicians to have broken the glass ceiling in both online and live music performance contexts.
When university jazz programs center and privilege male, straight, white, cisgender, and other dominant identities, individuals with identities beyond these dominant categories often face systemic disadvantage and harm as they begin careers in jazz. Various forms of harm—including those based on gender, race, sexuality, ability, and other social categories, as well as sexual harm—are frequently embedded in institutional structures and pedagogical norms. In response to the persistence of harmful environments in higher music education, many institutions have turned to diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives, though those efforts often fall short when implemented in isolation or without accompanying structural change. A more comprehensive approach has been taken by the Berklee Institute of Jazz and Gender Justice, which has worked to reformulate university-level jazz education by grounding it in feminist and antiracist principles. But many institutions with jazz programs lack the resources, prestige, or institutional support to launch a program at the same scale. This article suggests that, even in situations where resources are limited, positive change toward a safer and more equitable jazz education for students of all genders, with their many intersecting identities, is possible. Drawing on intersectional feminist perspectives, the article outlines several systemic initiatives grounded in restorative justice principles that were implemented in a university jazz program, and discusses their impact. By suggesting that restorative practices are closely aligned with the collectivity and care at the heart of jazz, the article offers a starting point for those envisioning safer, more equitable, and more vibrant jazz spaces to begin implementing restorative practices in jazz education and other jazz environments.
The middle decades of the twentieth century produced powerful—and contrasting—images of teenage girls as hyper-feminine, suburban consumers and jazz as authentic, masculine art music. These archetypes continue to shape scholarship today, making it difficult to imagine girls in the history of jazz. Yet there is plentiful documentary evidence that high school girls were highly involved with jazz at midcentury. In this article, I examine this evidence to argue for turning toward jazz audiences as a way of reorienting narratives of jazz history. First, I consider high school yearbooks and student newspapers, where girls are well-documented as jazz fans, players, and critics. I then turn to the widely circulated magazines Seventeen and Tan Confessions, both of which frequently included jazz coverage, to demonstrate that the jazz culture cultivated among girls in schools was also visible at a national scale. The sources show that most girls were amateurs who engaged with jazz at school and in female-focused media. Yet their experiences were, in many ways, more representative than those of professional jazz musicians. Most people involved with jazz at midcentury were amateur players, listeners, and critics, and this majority included thousands of girls. I argue that understanding ubiquity as a criterion for historical relevance in turn allows us to reshape our ideas of gender in jazz history.
This article considers the intersections between gender, sexuality, race, and disability in the works of jazz multi-instrumentalist Rahsaan Roland Kirk (1935–1977). Kirk is primarily known for playing multiple saxophones simultaneously, flutes with his nose, sirens, whistles, and other unusual instruments. As a blind man, Kirk performs disability by presenting a “deviant” musical body, such as performing on several odd-looking instruments at once, and by utilizing unconventional techniques and sounds, like playing through the nose or executing feats of almost superhuman circular breathing. However, we can also think of these characteristics as constituting a performance of gender and sexuality that is a response to both the feminization of the disabled body (after Garland-Thomson 1997) and dominant stereotypes of Black masculinity during the 1960s and 70s (after hooks 2004 and Wallace 1979). The article explores how Kirk performs the stereotype of the hypersexualized Black man, which can be seen as a way of reacting against both the historical oppression of Black men in the US and the dehumanization he experienced as a person with a disability. For example, in “Volunteered Slavery” (1969) Kirk proposes that his sexual prowess can help women break free from society’s chains. Kirk also performs masculinity sonically through his presentation of musical sounds that epitomize stereotypes of strength and virility, such as his (multiple) saxophone playing and his flute playing. Counteracting notions of the flute as a feminine-coded instrument, Kirk’s flute sound is purposefully aggressive, as he hums, sings, grunts, and screams while he plays. Altogether, these characteristics resulted in the perception of his work as gendered and sexual. In a 1970 review entitled “Roland Kirk: High Energy Jazz and Sex,” Stratton characterized Kirk’s performances as “the embodiment of his extreme horniness,” and listening to his music as “a valid measure of [the listener’s] sexual potency.”
Women have come to represent around half of the enrolees in South African tertiary jazz programmes, yet remain under-represented in the academy, professional performance, and composition spaces. This mirrors international patterns of exclusion and marginalization in what is now widely known as a hostile environment for women and others who do not conform to patriarchal discourses. Mostly modelled after American programmes, South African tertiary jazz programs have historically foregrounded the technical mastery of bebop, propagating the master narrative of jazz as a masculine domain and side-lining other forms of jazz and jazz-adjacent genres. Closely tied to this tradition is a well-documented culture of systemic racism, sexism and misogyny. In recent years, this culture has started to wane because of the presence of empowered and empowering women at the highest levels of its tertiary education and professional performance scenes. Amanda Tiffin and Chantal Willie-Petersen both occupy positions of power traditionally reserved for men and use their respective platforms to advocate for gender equality and de-colonialism in jazz education and practice. They represent a growing contingent of jazz educators committed to eradicating outdated pedagogical traditions rooted in oppressive hierarchies of power. Focusing on narratives of resilience and agency, this article draws on elements of feminist post-structuralism and theories of dis-identification to amplify the work of progressive educators like Tiffin and Willie-Petersen. Their own experiences of “othering” have informed multiple aspects of their pedagogical practices, from curricular design to the creation of nurturing learning spaces both within and beyond the classroom. This article explores the impact of feminist pedagogical practices and social awareness on the transformation of what had, until recently, been a highly exclusionary space. Moreover, it aims to encourage scholarship that pays close attention to the complex intersection of gender, race and colonialism in jazz education.
Scholarship acknowledges jazz as a historically male-dominated culture, where masculinity is closely intertwined with notions of tradition and authenticity. Androcentric perceptions of cultural and historical value, as well as gender stereotypes about male and female musical roles, continue to influence the participation of men and women in jazz nowadays. These ideas have long influenced the teaching of jazz, shaping its educational contexts, symbolic discourses, protagonists, and role models. The ongoing underrepresentation of female jazz students, particularly instrumentalists, is often attributed to a perceived lack of interest among female music students in pursuing jazz as an academic option. Stereotypes of masculinity and femininity often lead to reduced motivation in activities considered outside traditional gender norms, guiding students’ assumptions about their own achievement, skills and personality attributes. For instance, female students may struggle with confidence in male-dominated fields, hindering their willingness to take risks and fully engage in learning. According to Erin L. Wehr's (2016) model outlining the reasons for female jazz avoidance, the combination of being a minority in the field, along with the fear of confirming a negative stereotype, contributes to lower confidence of female jazz students, which may explain a negative impact on girls’ motivation to participate in jazz. Despite optimistic notions, which suggests that increased jazz education will naturally attract more female students and gradually expand the number of women playing jazz professionally, the reality often reflects a different scenario, with fewer female students opting for jazz studies and choosing to study classical music instead. This article delves into how these academic preferences are influenced by more than just individual choices, but also by structural power imbalances that significantly impact students' motivation. Drawing from fieldwork conducted between 2021 and 2022 at the Portuguese jazz program of the Conservatório de Música de Coimbra, this study shed light on the perceptions of both students and teachers regarding the gender disparity within their program. While the classical music program maintained a balanced gender distribution, the jazz course revealed a stark contrast, with a disproportionately low number of female students, particularly instrumentalists. Through diverse perspectives offered by students and teachers, this study aims to contribute to a reflection on how jazz educational institutions and communities can address the issue of underrepresentation of female jazz students. It explores the complex interplay between individual agency and structural power dynamics, particularly concerning gender conformity in jazz education. This examination is particularly relevant in peripheral countries like Portugal, where the public implementation of jazz education has a relatively recent history. Therefore, when considering underrepresented individuals, it is imperative to not only consider individual preferences but also to confront broader structural dynamics that shape students' academic experiences. This involves creating an academic environment that fosters equal opportunities, provides necessary support systems, and challenges systemic barriers. By doing so, we can promote meaningful educational experiences for all students, regardless of their background, and promote a more diverse and equitable jazz education community.
In U.S. Cold War jazz diplomacy, a focus on women as student musicians reveals how they were promoting jazz worldwide. Because they were not as famous as other high-profile professional musicians who also toured with the State Department, these women are harder to find in the historical record, but nonetheless important. By examining at a set of U.S. State Department-sponsored collegiate jazz tours during the Cold War, I highlight the variety of women’s participation and influence in three collegiate programs and their tours. Specifically, I address: 1) the University of Michigan’s Symphony Band’s 1961 tour of the Soviet Union, Middle East and Eastern Europe, which featured a jazz band; 2) the University of Illinois Jazz Band’s 1969 tour of the Soviet Union; and 3) North Texas State University One O’Clock Lab Band’s 1967 tour of Mexico and 1976 tour of the Soviet Union. Through these case studies, I argue that collegiate women jazz musicians made a distinct and unacknowledged contribution to U.S. cultural diplomacy during the Cold War. Through their musical abilities and interpersonal interactions, these women expanded the diplomatic reach and success of their tours. Drawing on archival materials from universities, the State Department and Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs, I reveal the ways collegiate women jazz musicians contributed to diplomatic efforts.
Do transnational jazz education spaces perpetuate exclusion and gender inequality, or are they fostering inclusive and safe environments? What challenges arise when analyzing transnational jazz cultures through a still-developing jazz studies framework, particularly from gender and feminist perspectives? What gender equality and diversity challenges are evident in contemporary debates, such as those spurred by Berklee’s Institute of Jazz and Gender Justice? Do transnational contexts offer significant opportunities to transform increasingly popular musical institutions through specific research and practical initiatives? Do these contexts provide adequate resources and support for implementing safer and more inclusive educational environments for all? This issue's gender and jazz education roundtable engages with these questions by addressing local issues with global resonance, providing a necessary space for reflecting on educational environments within transnational jazz contexts.
This project considers a case study from the archive of modern recorded jazz—Miles Davis’s Jack Johnson (1971)—as a means to address the collaborative aesthetic, technical, and social dimensions of record production. The release of The Complete Jack Johnson Sessions (2003) contains a number of alternate takes and “inserts” that were cut up and spliced together to create extended tracks on several albums by Davis released from 1971 to 1974. Drawing on recent work in popular music studies, ethnomusicology, and studies in the art of record production, I ask how this studio collaboration affects our notions of authorship and creativity in jazz. In other words, what is the relationship between the countless decisions in the studio and the sound that results? I will study studio practices and interactions in an integrated fashion, bringing together technological, practical, social, and creative/artistic components through a detailed consideration of the construction of a specific track from the album, “Yesternow.” The study of this little-discussed album by a canonical artist allows us to show how a specific approach to recording, as well as changes in recording technology, can be correlated with sonic and formal differences, and social relations.
Oral interview from March 13, 2024, W 35th St. in New York City, expanded and edited in June 2024. Becoming Ella Fitzgerald: The Jazz Singer Who Transformed American Song. by Judith Tick. New York, NY: W.W. Norton, 2023. 592pp. $40.00.
In April 2016, a then 89-year-old Jimmy Heath (1926–2020) accepted an invitation to headline the 50th annual Eau Claire Jazz Festival in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. This article captures the essence of Heath’s career-long instructional style and contributions to the festival culture at large by spotlighting his involvement with one in particular. Framed by the dichotomy of his mentorship onstage and off, it presents a case study of unique engagement with younger players and provides a rare opportunity to pore over and contextualize these interactions across a concentrated two-day period. Citing his words, this treatment showcases the impact of Heath’s dual approach as a jazz legend directing performance on the one hand contrasted with a more informal function as storyteller behind-the-scenes on the other. But there proved considerably more at work when Heath told his stories than a simple recounting of history alone. He was in fact teaching. Telling these stories served as a bona fide instructional method—a pattern borne out by close scrutiny of Heath’s rhetoric that consciously adapted his recollections for the shifting benefits of his various audiences. Three basic storytelling modes may be grafted on to the typical jazz festival: stories one shares with a general audience in concert, with specialists in a technical masterclass discussion, and with younger musicians in rehearsal or hanging out. As a result, Heath developed more than one way of telling a story—occasionally the same story—to realize comparable instructional moments in different situations. This study makes these comparisons explicit.
On December 14, 2023, Guthrie Ramsey conducted a master class and spoke with Rutgers-Newark faculty member Stefon Harris as part of Express Newark’s “Blues People” exhibition. Dr. Ramsey opened the afternoon with an excerpt of a film he produced “to tell part of the history of African American music.” For the balance of the lecture, Ramsey explored examples of and pedagogical processes related to a type of “vocalization and musicianship” central to Black musicking in America that “gets passed along through oral and aural culture.” Ramsey and Harris's wide ranging coversation returned to many of these themes while addressing Dr. Ramsey's scholarship--past, present and future.
