{"title":"New Orleans Music as a Circulatory System","authors":"Matt Sakakeeny","doi":"10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.31.2.0291","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"This essay provides a roughly chronological history of a single musical tradition in New Orleans, the brass band parade, as a case study that supports a more expansive proposition. The first half of this proposition is specific to New Orleans: I note that the city has become largely identified with African American musical practices and repertoires and, further, that the associations between music, race, and place can be adequately subsumed under the categorical term New Orleans Music. While New Orleans Music includes an amorphous collection of interrelated styles--brass band, jazz, blues, rhythm & blues, soul, and funk, to name the most prevalent--they are bound together through an association with race (African American), place (New Orleans), and functionality (social dance) to such a degree that even a disaster of immeasurable consequences, which disproportionately affected that race and dislocated them from that place, has not threatened its cohesiveness. The consensus about the overall attributes of New Orleans Music is so pervasive that naming them as such seems redundant. The second half of the proposition raises a more sweeping question: By what processes do specific musical forms and practices become linked to particular people and places? This essay pursues the role of discourse and media--including eyewitness accounts, historical and musicological studies, musicians' autobiographies, fictional writings, media reports, images, films, and sound recordings--in solidifying the connections between people, places, and musical traditions. New Orleans Music is broadly synonymous with African American music, but this affiliation is by no means timeless and was facilitated, in part, by the writing of jazz history since the 1930s. The claim made most resoundingly in the book Jazzmen (1939) that jazz began \"just [in New Orleans], not somewhere else\" (Ramsey and Smith 1939, 5) changed the characterization of New Orleans as a musical city, altering understandings not only of where jazz came from but what constitutes the entirety of New Orleans Music. Prior to being nominated the birthplace of jazz, New Orleans's musical reputation was based on a multitude of offerings, including ballroom dance and French opera, street criers and organ grinders (Kmen 1966). The marching bands that led parades and funerals with music represented numerous ethnicities and races, but as jazz emerged in the first decades of the twentieth century, African Americans, mixed-race Creoles, and European Americans reconfigured the brass band as a black music ensemble, performing syncopated and improvised dance music in burial processions that came to be called jazz funerals and in community parades known as second lines (Schafer 1977; White 2001). These parades wound through an extraordinarily heterogeneous urban center, led by a diverse set of musicians that embodied the city's complex history of interaction, but in narratives of jazz and New Orleans Music they are often narrowly presented as a strictly African American phenomenon. More precisely, jazz funerals and second line parades have been reimagined as a conduit that links jazz back to the celebrated slave dances at Congo Square and, by implication, to Africa. A representative example can be drawn from the television documentary Jazz Parades: Feet Don't Fail Me Now (1990) directed by folklorist Alan Lomax near the end of his career. In the opening sequence, we are shown a community procession called a second line parade, with African Americans dancing through the streets while the Dirty Dozen Brass Band plays their original song \"My Feet Can't Fail Me Now.\" \"This isn't chaos,\" Lomax narrates. \"It's black tradition right out of Africa.\" In an arresting scene, footage of black New Orleanians is intercut with various archival clips of ritual and folkloric dancing in West Africa. As Lomax discusses the intimate relation between music and bodily movement and points out similarities between specific dance steps, he states what cannot have escaped the observation of any attentive viewer: \"Below the surface runs the deep tide of African tradition. …","PeriodicalId":354930,"journal":{"name":"Black Music Research Journal","volume":"59 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0000,"publicationDate":"2011-09-22","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"32","resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Black Music Research Journal","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.31.2.0291","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"","JCRName":"","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 32
Abstract
This essay provides a roughly chronological history of a single musical tradition in New Orleans, the brass band parade, as a case study that supports a more expansive proposition. The first half of this proposition is specific to New Orleans: I note that the city has become largely identified with African American musical practices and repertoires and, further, that the associations between music, race, and place can be adequately subsumed under the categorical term New Orleans Music. While New Orleans Music includes an amorphous collection of interrelated styles--brass band, jazz, blues, rhythm & blues, soul, and funk, to name the most prevalent--they are bound together through an association with race (African American), place (New Orleans), and functionality (social dance) to such a degree that even a disaster of immeasurable consequences, which disproportionately affected that race and dislocated them from that place, has not threatened its cohesiveness. The consensus about the overall attributes of New Orleans Music is so pervasive that naming them as such seems redundant. The second half of the proposition raises a more sweeping question: By what processes do specific musical forms and practices become linked to particular people and places? This essay pursues the role of discourse and media--including eyewitness accounts, historical and musicological studies, musicians' autobiographies, fictional writings, media reports, images, films, and sound recordings--in solidifying the connections between people, places, and musical traditions. New Orleans Music is broadly synonymous with African American music, but this affiliation is by no means timeless and was facilitated, in part, by the writing of jazz history since the 1930s. The claim made most resoundingly in the book Jazzmen (1939) that jazz began "just [in New Orleans], not somewhere else" (Ramsey and Smith 1939, 5) changed the characterization of New Orleans as a musical city, altering understandings not only of where jazz came from but what constitutes the entirety of New Orleans Music. Prior to being nominated the birthplace of jazz, New Orleans's musical reputation was based on a multitude of offerings, including ballroom dance and French opera, street criers and organ grinders (Kmen 1966). The marching bands that led parades and funerals with music represented numerous ethnicities and races, but as jazz emerged in the first decades of the twentieth century, African Americans, mixed-race Creoles, and European Americans reconfigured the brass band as a black music ensemble, performing syncopated and improvised dance music in burial processions that came to be called jazz funerals and in community parades known as second lines (Schafer 1977; White 2001). These parades wound through an extraordinarily heterogeneous urban center, led by a diverse set of musicians that embodied the city's complex history of interaction, but in narratives of jazz and New Orleans Music they are often narrowly presented as a strictly African American phenomenon. More precisely, jazz funerals and second line parades have been reimagined as a conduit that links jazz back to the celebrated slave dances at Congo Square and, by implication, to Africa. A representative example can be drawn from the television documentary Jazz Parades: Feet Don't Fail Me Now (1990) directed by folklorist Alan Lomax near the end of his career. In the opening sequence, we are shown a community procession called a second line parade, with African Americans dancing through the streets while the Dirty Dozen Brass Band plays their original song "My Feet Can't Fail Me Now." "This isn't chaos," Lomax narrates. "It's black tradition right out of Africa." In an arresting scene, footage of black New Orleanians is intercut with various archival clips of ritual and folkloric dancing in West Africa. As Lomax discusses the intimate relation between music and bodily movement and points out similarities between specific dance steps, he states what cannot have escaped the observation of any attentive viewer: "Below the surface runs the deep tide of African tradition. …
这篇文章提供了一个大致按时间顺序排列的新奥尔良单一音乐传统的历史,铜管乐队游行,作为一个案例研究,支持一个更广泛的命题。这个命题的前半部分是专门针对新奥尔良的:我注意到这座城市已经在很大程度上与非裔美国人的音乐实践和曲目相一致,而且,音乐、种族和地方之间的联系可以充分地归入新奥尔良音乐这个绝对术语。虽然新奥尔良音乐包含了各种相互关联的风格——铜管乐队、爵士、布鲁斯、节奏布鲁斯、灵魂乐和放克,其中最普遍的是——它们通过与种族(非裔美国人)、地点(新奥尔良)和功能(交际舞)的联系联系在一起,以至于即使是一场不可估量的灾难,也没有威胁到它的凝聚力,这场灾难对种族造成了不成比例的影响,并使他们从那个地方流离失所。关于新奥尔良音乐的整体属性的共识是如此普遍,以至于这样命名它们似乎是多余的。这个命题的后半部分提出了一个更广泛的问题:特定的音乐形式和实践是通过什么过程与特定的人和地方联系在一起的?这篇文章探讨了话语和媒体的作用——包括目击者的描述、历史和音乐学研究、音乐家的自传、虚构的作品、媒体报道、图像、电影和录音——在巩固人、地方和音乐传统之间的联系方面。新奥尔良音乐基本上是非洲裔美国人音乐的同义词,但这种联系绝不是永恒的,而且在一定程度上是由于20世纪30年代以来爵士乐历史的写作而促成的。在《Jazzmen》(1939)一书中,最响亮的说法是爵士乐“只是[在新奥尔良],而不是在其他地方”(Ramsey and Smith 1939, 5)改变了新奥尔良作为一个音乐城市的特征,不仅改变了对爵士乐来自何处的理解,也改变了对新奥尔良音乐整体构成的理解。在被提名为爵士乐的诞生地之前,新奥尔良的音乐声誉是建立在众多的产品基础上的,包括交际舞和法国歌剧,街头哭喊者和风琴演奏者(Kmen 1966)。伴随着音乐带领游行和葬礼的军乐队代表了许多民族和种族,但随着爵士乐在20世纪头几十年的出现,非裔美国人、混合种族的克里奥尔人和欧洲裔美国人将铜管乐队重组为黑人音乐合奏团,在后来被称为爵士葬礼的葬礼游行和被称为第二行的社区游行中表演分音和即兴舞蹈音乐(Schafer 1977;白2001)。这些游行蜿蜒穿过一个异常异质的城市中心,由一群不同的音乐家带领,他们体现了这座城市复杂的互动历史,但在爵士乐和新奥尔良音乐的叙述中,他们往往被狭隘地视为一种严格的非裔美国人现象。更确切地说,爵士葬礼和二线游行被重新设想为一条管道,将爵士乐与刚果广场上著名的奴隶舞蹈联系起来,并暗示与非洲联系起来。一个典型的例子可以从电视纪录片爵士游行:脚不让我现在(1990)由民俗学家艾伦·洛马克斯在他职业生涯的末期执导。在影片的开头,我们看到了一个被称为“二线游行”的社区游行,非裔美国人在街上跳舞,同时“十二打铜管乐队”(Dirty Dozen Brass Band)演奏他们的原创歌曲“My Feet Can’t Fail Me Now”。“这不是混乱,”洛马克斯说。“这是非洲黑人的传统。”在一个引人注目的场景中,新奥尔良黑人的镜头与西非各种仪式和民间舞蹈的档案剪辑交织在一起。Lomax讨论了音乐和身体运动之间的亲密关系,并指出了特定舞步之间的相似之处,他陈述了任何细心的观众都无法逃脱的观察:“在表面之下流淌着非洲传统的深层潮流。...