The
most striking thing about the American South is it has not changed. The reasons why I left in l991 still
upon reflection are exactly the same as reasons I would choose to leave again
today. I may not have been sure two
decades ago, because I was emotionally vulnerable. I suspected as much.
I suspected the American South was a “Good Old Boy” network. There was “Old Money.” There was a society bred upon wealthy
slave-owning plantation owners. They
patterned their transplanted roots upon Victorian England. They named their children Muffy and
Bif. Above all there was no
defeating them. They controlled
the Old South. It was old, stuffy,
moldy money that had been sitting in a safe and was not going anywhere soon,
much like now. It was not going to
be made available to a youthful generation. A youthful generation was not going to be honored or
empowered with the reigns to the kingdom.
Instead these insolent land-owners ate their children like they ate
everyone else. It is beyond me how
a generation can become so Goddamned selfish as not to respect their offspring. Who was going to take over when their
blood dried up? “We won’t worry
about that now. We merely will get
all we can, can it, and sit on the can.”
That once conservative philosophy has failed America miserably. The good news is that idea is not
prevalent everywhere. It is not
prevalent in New England, California, or the Midwest. These places have chosen to be progressive engaging life and
future life with zest and money.
They, rather than sit stagnantly on their covered porch admiring their
tall trees sipping a lemonade or ice tea, would rather engage life and a new future.
Prospects. New Money. I left the American South for these
reasons. There was no foreseeable future. In fact it was a hard dead end.
I literally had people saying to me, “Why do you think you
are any different? What makes you
so special that you believe you will have anything other than this?” Sometimes you just have to change the
environment. When it fails you,
like Motown, go somewhere else. I
chose Columbus, Ohio. Some people
would laugh. “Cowtown!” they
say. I had an underlying
motive. Not only could I pursue
the D.M.A. degree in composition, Columbus was a capital city of a million and
a half people. There were
opportunities. I was right.
Unfortunately I tried to transplant my own Southern sensibilities to
Columbus, and they would not have it.
There was a stark different in culture. While Southerners, because of the climate and geography,
could relax and provide some quaint charm and hospitality, Columbus was
urban. There was nothing around
it. What you had happening was
life. There was no room to sit
back and enjoy the works of God or nature. I was amazed out how much more aware and literate the people
of Ohio were. They knew things,
and they paid attention to the appropriate things. There was no society to disguise or control reality. That crust of manipulation was removed,
and boy was it refreshing. There was
no Old Money. It was New Money,
and if you worked hard you could be both appreciated and rewarded with a place
in society. That American South is
not like that. It surprisingly
still is segregated. The perfect
example of this segregation and an issue I have been trying to understand is
musical segregation. As a musician
myself, a purveyor of both improvised jazz music and written European-based
concert music, I don’t consider music to be privy to any particular race or
culture. I do know the history of
a lot of music, but I as a human being never saw fit to segregate music. What’s the point? When I returned to the American South
it has become obvious still it is segregated. What am I talking about? I completed all of the coursework necessary for the
acquisition of a Doctorate of Musical Arts in Composition at The Ohio State
University. The only reason I did
not finish was because the eye disease Kerataconus demanded I have cornea
transplants in both eyes. This
took time, and after their healing I needed to make money, not be in
school. Still I retain all of that
knowledge and have not given up on being a successful musician again. It is difficult being surrounded by the
Old South, because it has not changed and in my humble opinion never will. It is not progressive. It still is stuck in the staid habits
that have sustained it all there years.
While there are glimmers of progress, such as our local symphony
conductor programming Mahler and Stravinsky, the culture of the South will stay
the same. It is sentimental. It is sweet. It is violent. “Hey
ya’ll!” At one time the
traditional Southern Bell could melt me.
I realize today it was not a product of love or admiration or desire. It purely was sexual. Those women are both alluring and
physically desirable, but I don’t want that. I don’t want to be controlled by my libido. I don’t want to desire something so
much I lose control of my wits. I
rather would desire it, because I see and understand something that is appealing
to me. I don’t want to be slain by
a bimbo. That is the way women
operate in the South. Know they
will take your money, and your house, and your life. I don’t want to be controlled by traditions and customs that
openly don’t accept my independent opinion and appreciate it. Why would I? My example is while many
years of my life were involved with the study and performance of jazz-oriented
music, I can’t listen to the local jazz station here. I have tried.
Their programming is too off base for me to appreciate. Am I so unusual having studied the
recorded lineage of jazz music not to be able to enjoy their contemporary
programming? I think it is because
as a well versed and studied musician, I don’t compartmentalize music. I understand styles of music and their
origins, but for me they just blend together into what is the aesthetic of my
life. That aesthetic, because I
have traveled away from the South, I see now is far more diverse than others
around me. This reinforces that
notion that the South is sheltered, not progressive, and unwilling to change,
grow, and experience new things.
They like their security blanket of country clubs, smooth jazz, and old
money. It highly is
oppressive. Why does the local
jazz station not play the known and recognized iconic jazz recordings and
artists? I have asked myself this
many times. I thought once it was
because they didn’t have the revenue to pay the royalties on the most important
and influential music. I think still
that may be true. I don’t know if
radio stations pay by the track, artist, record label, or style. I would like to know. Whence does the royalty come? What I do know is the program this station
offers is sheltered. It is not
progressive. It is not meant to
challenge the listener, the listener’s sensibilities, or societies' acceptable social
norms. It, like modern pop music,
instead puts a bandaid on life’s tough spots. It seeks not to be heard, felt, or understood. It is the ultimate “Uncle Tom.” Its only purpose is to say, “Yessah
massah, whatever you say.” I guess
it is this principle to which I most object as a composer and musician. No one in my mind has the right to
dictate what or how I perform music.
That is not how it is today.
That freedom has been curtailed, and I am not sure by whom. Time/Life and Time/Warner must have a
hand in it, because they bought the majority of the performance rights to
America’s most popular recorded music.
Consequently we don’t hear it anymore. What gives? Is
that not sheltering, concealing America’s musical past? The majority of what is played on our
local jazz station is not jazz at all.
It is pop. How am I able to
make this distinction? Because “Once
Upon a Time in a Far Away Land,” students were required to study styles of
music. “Once Upon a Time in a Far
Away Land,” pop music was not part of the musical curriculum at reputable music
school. That has changed. “Once Upon a Time in a Far Away Land,” the
guitar was not recognized a viable tool for teaching music. There is a reason for this. Pop music, while erroneously considered
to mean popular, really defines a musical style. It is a style, unlike traditional jazz or orchestra musics,
that does not demand an intellectual comprehension of rhythmic style. Most jazz oriented music in America in
the last decade has reverted to this much less skilled and therefore irrelevant
style of music, because it takes very few brain cells to actualize it. To me it is a horrific disservice to
trained and talented musicians.
Alas corporations can design and implement pop music because it consists
of no real music in a traditional sense.
Radio stations like ours are not helping the situation by playing this
garbage. That was not my
point. My point was that in
addition to playing “Yes Man,” the music is segregated. It represents only one particular group
of people, and that is disheartening.”
I guess you don’t notice it if you only have experienced the American
South. The segregation exists
elsewhere. The station to which I
turn for musical diversion while of quality, adheres to the same
aesthetic. It does not ever play
music that is challenging to the emotions. It like many sheltered places does not even recognize the Second Viennese School. Did anyone know there was a Second Viennese School? Who was the first? It was Beethoven, Hayden, and
Mozart. Alas there have been many
more decades of music making since the High Classic period. Our local classical station abstains from
playing any contemporary music. Rarely
will you ever hear Schoenberg, Berg, or Webern. Rarely will you hear Charles Ives, one of America’s greatest
composers. Why is this? It is because one must grow
intellectually and emotionally to understand and appreciate this music. Why can’t a radio station be
responsible for this awakening? Is
it because they also are playing “Uncle Tom?” I guess so.
