Final Thoughts

            Prior to being in this History of Jazz class, I had an entirely different view of how jazz was created, evolved, and spread around the country from the view that I have now. Coming into this class I knew very little about the profound importance that cultural factors had on the formation and development of jazz music. I was under the impression that the class would take an approach focused mostly on the musical aspects of jazz’s creation, like the artists who were key players in the genre and how they were able to create new, unique music that would later be called jazz. While these individual artists and techniques have been vital to my learning of the course’s subject matter, I have been surprised to learn of the many multifaceted forces that led these musicians to begin playing jazz in the first place. I am now aware of the ways that jazz was deeply rooted in the cultures of the cities it passed through and how these cultures shaped jazz just as much as jazz shaped these cultures. This back and forth dialogue between different cultures and jazz musicians is something I never would have thought existed, but over the course of the quarter I have come to a better and better understanding of how the dialogic nature of jazz is crucial to understanding how the genre flourished and became so prominent.

            Upon first hearing Dr. Stewart mention that jazz shares a dialogic relationship with the cultures that it permeates, I was somewhat skeptical and thought little of the claim. However, as the course progressed and we learned about the different eras of jazz and how they transitioned into each other, I began to see the truth in Dr. Stewart’s argument. This dialogic concept first began to click in my mind when we began discussing Chicago Style. We started by talking about the increasing individuality that blacks were enjoying in 1920’s Chicago and how they were allowing themselves to assimilate into American culture and stake out their own place in mass culture by doing so. Soon after, we learned of the rising prominence of the soloist in Chicago jazz music and therefore a rising focus on the individual within this genre (Lecture, 1/29/13). The correlation between the individuality of black culture and the individuality within jazz music seemed obvious to me, and I began to see jazz’s dialogic nature in action.

To cement my belief in this dialogue even further came our discussion of the Swing Era and how jazz moved from swing to bebop in the 1930’s and 1940’s. During the time of swing music in New York, big bands would play in dance halls like the Savoy in Harlem, where audiences would dictate what kind of music was popular based on their responses to bands’ performances. This dialogue between audience and performer led to the highly danceable rhythms of swing music that became characteristic of New York at the time and enthralled a generation of young people who were enamored with the genre and loved dancing to it (Lecture, 2/14/13). The transition from swing music to bebop can also be seen as a result of dialogic forces. With the aforementioned young generation overseas in WWII, there was left an older generation that was not as inclined to enjoy the danceable qualities of swing. Therefore, bebop, with its cool sounds and dissonant melodies, emerged in response to changing interests of jazz’s audience.

Altogether, I have come to find that jazz is much more than I originally believed it to be. Jazz is more than a music genre that randomly sprouted up simply because someone decided to start playing it. Rather, it is a piece of America’s culture, deeply rooted in the development of many cities, from New Orleans to Chicago to New York and beyond. The way that jazz was shaped by these cities is heavily reflected in the way that jazz shaped these cities, which highlights and confirms the profound dialogic nature of jazz mentioned by Dr. Stewart. 

Monk's Community of Modernity

San Juan Hill, the area of New York that Thelonius Monk grew up in, had a widely known reputation for being extremely violent. This area was originally named due to the black veterans of the Spanish American War living there, but also kept this name to represent the violence that ran rampant in its streets which was compared to the vicious scene that Teddy Roosevelt endured at the Battle of San Juan Hill (Kelley, 16). As Kelley says, San Juan Hill was an immense cultural melting pot; although this apparent diversity may seem positive in principle, it was actually the source of the area’s violent outbreaks (18). Intolerance for other racial groups led to recurring fights, and the area was publicly known for its many race riots from 1900 to 1917 that were only perpetuated by the local police (Kelley, 17).

               From the undesirable conditions of San Juan Hill, however, came the genius of Monk’s music. The dissonant melodies put out by Monk in his early career were not particularly popular and held little mainstream appeal originally. However, regardless of the initial popularity of Monk’s music, the unorthodox rhythms and heavily improvised attacks on the piano keys that Monk was known for were just as unorthodox and confusing as the community he was shaped by (Lecture, 2/28/13). The pauses he would take in between riffs and the seemingly random notes that he would strike with great force during his performances can be seen as parallels to the unpredictability one would face living in San Juan Hill, wondering if his or her trip down to the store would be cut short by a fight with someone of a different race.

               With Monk’s obviously unconventional style of music, he was able to break free from the restrictions of his community and in turn create his own community: one that held a profound respect for progress and new ideas (Lecture, 2/28/13). This progressivism endorsed by Monk can be seen not only in his dissonant musical style, but also in the diverse relationships that he upheld in his personal life. For example, Monk received his first formal piano instruction from a Jewish-Austrian man named Simon Wolf. Wolf not only recognized Monk’s genius from the start, but he also broadened Monk’s horizons by introducing him to classical music from composers like Chopin and Beethoven, furthering the multifaceted diversity that Monk would later foster (Kelley, 26). Additionally, Monk’s created community was forward-thinking in that it inspired young people, blacks and whites alike, to rebel against many social norms in America (Lecture, 2/28/13). Perhaps the most prominent of these embedded American sentiments was the issue of race that Monk tried to deal with by transcending the traditional racial politics of the time.

               Rather than allowing his race to define or hinder him, instead Monk chose to separate himself from such notions. This fact is highly impressive given the racism that he endured, not only from the diverse array of neighbors he fought with in San Juan Hill but also from various policemen that held him responsible for crimes he did not commit (Lecture, 2/26/13). In forming his own progressive community as mentioned before, Monk made his music and his life concerned less with race and more with tolerance for changing times. In doing so, he was able to help society make advances in race relations, at least among the community members who were willing to embrace his ideas. Even after all Monk had done to remain tolerant, however, his tolerance was not ultimately reciprocated back to him. His arrest in Delaware in 1958 with his friends Nica and Rouse attests to the unfortunate and horrible state of police discrimination against blacks at this time. Monk, a preacher of community and ignorer of widespread racial issues, was heavily bombarded by an onslaught of unwarranted legal action against him and his friends (Kelley, 254). Perhaps his message of tolerance was not ready to be fully embraced by the society of his time, but his genius lives on regardless.