THE JAZZ AGE AND CHICAGO In the 1920s, jazz spread rapidly all across America. The rise of jazz was part of a new, post–World War I optimism, a prevailing sense that something new was happening, that America was finally breaking from European culture and coming into its own. Novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald called the new era the Jazz Age. with an unaccompanied trumpet passage that dazzled musicians with its daring changes of tempo and brilliant flourishes of melody. In “Weather Bird,” from the same year, Armstrong and pianist Earl Hines dueled with each other in a spontaneous duet full of rhythmic and melodic innovations so advanced that other musicians would continue to borrow them for the next 20 years. Small bands of jazz musicians could be found virtually everywhere, but it was in Chicago that jazz developed most intensely in the third decade of the 20th century. The city already had a strong musical pedigree—the World’s Fair of 1893 had drawn musicians from across the country—and Chicago’s stockyards, stores, and factories, as well as its reputation as a rail and shipping hub, made the city a magnet for people seeking a new start. The Chicago Defender, the city’s African-American newspaper, regularly advised Southern blacks that there was a job for everyone in this city, which, the paper stressed, was free of the extremes of prejudice common in the South. If Chicago was not exactly the promised land, moving there was still widely considered a big step toward economic and personal freedom. After Armstrong, the instrumental solo became the centerpiece of jazz, and his singing —his cheerful rasp and his relaxed use of language—pointed the way toward a new, distinctly American vocal tradition. LESSON ESSAY LOUIS ARMSTRONG Among the thousands who answered the call and joined the Great Migration north was a young trumpeter named Louis Armstrong, who followed his mentor, King Oliver, and his Creole Jazz Band to Chicago in 1922. Two years later, Armstrong went on to New York City to work with Fletcher Henderson’s big dance band, a sophisticated, well-trained group that played a style of music later to be dubbed swing (CD1: Track 23). Armstrong’s reputation quickly spread among musicians, and he began appearing on numerous recordings, most famously as the leader of the Hot Five and the Hot Seven, his immensely influential small groups. The records he made with those bands between 1925 and 1928 retained the instrumentation and some of the characteristics of pure New Orleans jazz, but in fact Armstrong’s music was more meticulously arranged than most of what was heard in the Crescent City, and it displayed a much higher level of musicianship. Each recording seemed to introduce something new: “West End Blues” (CD1: Track 25), from 1928, opened 14 NEA JAZZ IN THE SCHOOLS Louis Armstrong’s Hot Five, Chicago, c. late 1920s. Courtesy of the Duncan P. Schiedt Collection. Armstrong’s virtuosity on the trumpet was unparalleled. He was stronger, had a wider range, and was more articulate on his instrument than anyone else. His tone was brilliant, and the melodies he created were graceful, intense, and full of passion. The driving pulse of his songs made the oompah feel of two-beat jazz seem instantly out of date; his music demanded a newer, more flexible rhythm. After Armstrong, the instrumental solo became the centerpiece of jazz, and his singing (CD1: Track 26)—his cheerful rasp and his relaxed use of language—pointed the way toward a new, distinctly American vocal tradition. Armstrong immediately lent his influence to a host of local Chicago musicians—many of them children of immigrants from Russia, Poland, Ireland, and Italy—who crossed racial boundaries by playing side by side with black musicians. Among these Chicagoans were clarinetist Benny Goodman and drummer Gene Krupa, who played a uniquely Midwestern version of jazz, often called Chicago-style (CD1: Track 27). Like Louis Armstrong’s, theirs was a soloist’s music, showcasing the virtuosity of a single improvising artist instead of the collective improvisation common to New Orleans jazz. Listen: Find a related musical excerpt online or on the accompanying CD. Look: Find a related photograph online or in the slide show on the accompanying DVD. PROHIBITION In 1920, Congress passed the 18th Amendment to the Constitution, which prohibited the bottling and consumption of alcohol, Prohibition would be the law of and for the next 13 years the land. But in Chicago, as elsewhere, many people ignored the law, and entrepreneurs and criminal gangs often joined forces to open nightclubs called speakeasies, where liquor, gambling, dancing, and jazz were the attractions, and where money was spent at a dizzying pace. In the end, Prohibition didn’t do much to curtail drinking and criminality in America—by many accounts it made things worse—but it turned out to be a boon for jazz musicians, who were suddenly more in demand than ever. Major Artist: Find a short biography and related resources online or in the Teacher Guide. Learn: Find more information related to this key term in the online essay or in a text box. The world of jazz would one day have its place in American culture alongside the polite, segregated world of classical music. THE DUKE If bands like Paul Whiteman’s can be said to have opened the door to a wider audience, then Duke Ellington simply knocked the door down. Edward Kennedy Ellington was born in Washington, D.C., in 1899 and began piano lessons as a young boy. He soon learned ragtime piano and began his professional career organizing bands to play for dances and social gatherings. In 1923 he moved to New York, where an African-American culHarlem Renaissance was tural revolution known as the under way. Ellington immersed himself in the musical life of the city, playing and studying alongside many of his heroes, including composer Will Marion Cook and pianists James P. Johnson and Willie “The Lion” Smith. Johnson and Smith played a style called stride (CD1: Track 33): a complex, often rapid form of piano playing in which the left hand quickly moves between bass notes and chords while the right hand creates a series of variations on the melody. Drawing on these and numerous other influences, Ellington fashioned his own distinctive piano style, a rich blend that went beyond anything that had come before. THE HARLEM RENAISSANCE A Prohibition-era plea for alcohol, c. 1924. Courtesy of the Chicago Historical Society. JAZZ: AN AMERICAN STORY LESSON ESSAY Among the groups that developed and flourished during Prohibition, in the Midwest and elsewhere, were larger ensembles that featured as many as 10 musicians and that played both jazz and other forms of popular music in dance halls, speakeasies, and restaurants, bringing jazz to entirely new audiences. Two of the best-known large groups during this era were the bands of Jean Goldkette, who was born in France and raised in Chicago, and Paul Whiteman, a symphony and dance band violinist born in Denver. Audiences were especially charmed by the Whiteman Orchestra’s ability to blend European stringorchestra music, African-American jazz, novelty songs, and exotic tunes. Whiteman had great ambitions for his music and talked about “making a lady out of jazz.” He walked the line between high and low art, between classical and popular music, and when he premiered George Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue” in a New York concert hall in 1924, the message was clear: The Harlem Renaissance was a period of flourishing artistic expression and cultural activity during the 1920s and 1930s. Based in Harlem, New York, one of the largest urban black communities in the North following the Great Migration, the cultural phenomenon saw some of America’s foremost black writers, artists, musicians, and political thinkers emerge at the forefront of American culture. Writers James Weldon Johnson, Langston Hughes, Zora Neale Hurston, and the scholar and civil rights activist W.E.B. DuBois all lived in Harlem, as did many other artists eagerly examining what it meant to be black and American. It was also home to the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, the Urban League, and Marcus Garvey’s Universal Negro Improvement Association. “Harlem, in our minds,” Duke Ellington remembered, had “the world’s most glamorous atmosphere. We had to go there.” 15 In 1927, Ellington’s ten-piece outfit landed the important job of house band at Harlem’s Cotton Club, where he developed skills as a composer and arranger that would lay the foundation for his legendary swing orchestra a few years later. “The music,” Duke said, “must be molded to the men,” and, accordingly, the Cotton Club band’s handpicked members (CD1: Track 31) each had an immeasurable impact on the group sound (CD1: Track 30). In his compositions for the nightly floor shows, Ellington drew on every type of music available, from sentimental songs and classical melodies to the blues and West Indian folk dances. LESSON ESSAY Duke Ellington. Courtesy of the Frank Driggs Collection. It was Duke’s special ability to create utterly new music from these traditional forms that set him apart from the other musicians of his time. The celebrated African-American writer Ralph Ellison, still a high school student in the 1920s, recalled the Cotton Club days: “It was as though Ellington had taken the traditional instruments of Negro American music and modified them, extended their range and enriched their tonal possibilities. … It was not until the discovery of Ellington that we had any hint that jazz possessed possibilities of a range of expressiveness comparable to that of classical European music.” Indeed, over the next 40 years Ellington would reach audiences around the world, filling concert halls and ballrooms alike, playing music that was as popular among the masses as it was revered by great musicians. He had created a music that was, as Duke himself would say, “beyond category.” 16 NEA JAZZ IN THE SCHOOLS SWING: THE SOUNDTRACK OF THE GREAT DEPRESSION In late 1929 the Jazz Age literally ended with a crash. The collapse of the stock market and the years of widespread unemployment and poverty that followed seemed destined to erase the exuberant optimism of the previous decade. And yet jazz musicians continued to innovate new, forward-looking styles in the face of hard times. While fewer records were actually being made, the early years of the Depression saw significant improvements in recording technology and a noticeable expansion in the size of bands. These new, larger bands were usually made up of a brass section consisting of three to four trumpets and two to three trombones and a reed section consisting of up to four saxophones and clarinets. These wind instruments could play together in unison or in a call-and-response fashion and were driven by a rhythm section comprised of piano, bass, drums, and guitar. The dominant two-beat feel of most of the music from the 1920s was now giving way to an even four beats per bar. It was a looser, more flexible rhythm that suited a new style of dancing known as the jitterbug, which was becoming increasingly popular in dance halls such as New York City’s Roseland and Savoy ballrooms. The 1930s were grim for many Americans, but swing, as this lively new four-beat music came to be called, was not given to self-pity; it was a beacon of energy, industry, and hopefulness throughout those dark years. Not that swing bands were always concerned with speed and intensity; they could also play with a slow, languid, dreamlike quality. By the mid- to late 1930s, the beginning of the so-called Swing Era, jazz, in its varying forms, had firmly established itself as the pop music of America. Swing allowed bands to lend a jazz feeling to almost anything—new pop songs, older sentimental ballads, Broadway themes, marches, waltzes, even classical pieces. Some bands played sweet-sounding songs that appealed to an older generation; others, like Bob Wills and his Texas Playboys, looked to their Southwestern roots, adding fiddles and mixing swing with country and square-dance music. Many young people, however, had become interested in the purely jazz-inspired qualities of swing, especially the solo-driven, improvisatory approach to the music. Like sports fans, they argued about the merits of particular bands, knew all the featured soloists, and stood in line for hours to see their favorite bands when they appeared in the popular stage shows at first-run movie theaters. (Benny Goodman broke all attendance records at the Paramount in New York’s Times Square in 1937.) swing reached every race, class, and In spite of segregation, age group in the country, and by the end of the 1930s, as the Depression came to an end and World War II loomed, musicians such as Duke Ellington and Louis Armstrong had become popular with virtually everyone. Thanks to radio and the gradual resurgence of the market for records, what had once been purely regional styles could now be heard in living rooms in almost any part of America. music: drummer Jo Jones, bassist Walter Page, guitarist Freddie Green, and Basie on piano. The Count’s band now joined the ranks of Louis Armstrong, singer Billie Holiday (CD1: Track 44), guitarist Charlie Christian (CD1: Track 40), and trumpeter Roy Eldridge (CD1: Track 42), all of whom were relaxing the rhythms of jazz while maintaining the fervent push and pull of swing that kept dancers on the floor. The 1930s were grim for many Americans, but swing, as this lively new four-beat music came to be called, was not given to self-pity; it was a beacon of energy, industry, and hopefulness throughout those dark years. THE COUNT Five hundred miles southwest of Chicago, and even farther from the swank dance halls of Manhattan, another town was being Kansas City, Mistransformed by jazz and Prohibition. souri, boasted a sprawling entertainment district run by bootleggers, gamblers, and small-time operators; music, particularly the insistent train-like shuffle of the blues, could be heard at all hours of the day and night. And with the help of an East Coast piano player dubbed “The Count,” the city would become an epicenter of swing music. As bandleader Andy Kirk explained, in Kansas City the stock market crash was “like a pin dropping: the blast of jazz and blues drowned it out.” William “Count” Basie was born in 1904 in Red Bank, New Jersey, and grew up under the spell of East Coast ragtime and stride piano players, especially Thomas “Fats” Waller (CD1: Track 33). Stranded in Kansas City while on tour with a road show, Basie found work playing piano in a local movie theater and soon became an integral part of Walter Page’s Blue Devils, one of the greatest jazz bands of the Midwest. In 1935 Basie took over the band of local favorite Bennie Moten (CD1: Track 35) and soon began a series of radio broadcasts that sounded very different from the music coming out of Chicago and New York. THE WAR YEARS: MOLDY FIGS AND MODERN VISIONS By the mid-1930s, swing had permeated nearly every aspect of mainstream American entertainment. Swing bandleaders were popular icons, performing for ballrooms full of wildly enthusiastic teen audiences, as well as in movies and on weekly radio shows. Perhaps the surest sign of swing’s success was the growing interest in the music’s history, spurred by the new breed of serious jazz record collectors and the rising influence of another new species, the jazz critic: By the end of the 1930s, reviews of jazz recordings and performances were appearing not only in specialized magazines like Down Beat and Metronome, but also in daily newspapers. A growing number of critics began to accuse swing of pandering to a wider audience and abandoning the essentials of jazz: that is, collective and individual improvisation. Add to all this a resurging interest in New Orleans veterans like Jelly Roll Morton and Sidney Bechet, as well as the founding of independent jazz labels like Commodore and Blue Note that specialized in older styles of jazz, and by the mid1940s the stage was set for a battle: It was the modernists (fans of swing) versus the traditionalists (proponents of older styles of jazz). The traditionalists quickly earned the label “moldy figs.” JAZZ: AN AMERICAN STORY 17 LESSON ESSAY Basie’s music (CD1: Track 36) was laden with blues feeling; he fashioned rhythmically strong arrangements that featured blues singers and were often built around riffs—short, repeated figures that were played behind soloists or singers. His band carried on a constant musical conversation: The brass and the reeds traded riffs in a fiery dialogue that excited dancers and Lester inspired soloists, most notably tenor saxophonist Young (CD1: Track 37), to new heights. Driving it all was the most cohesive and powerful rhythm section yet heard in popular Lindyhoppers getting carried away at Harlem’s Savoy Ballroom, c. 1941. The Charles Peterson Jazz Photo Collection, courtesy of Don Peterson. In spite of this backlash, swing bandleaders continued to enjoy pride of place in American popular culture. Benny Goodman’s orchestra was one of the most successful swing bands, thanks in part to the brilliant arrangements of the AfricanAmerican composer and bandleader Fletcher Henderson (CD1: Track 38). Goodman challenged the segregation that was still common in jazz in that era. In a pioneering step toward integration in entertainment (CD1: Track 39)—on the bandstand, in the recording studio, and even on the movie Teddy Wilson, with whom he’d screen—he hired pianist already recorded, to be featured in a trio setting (with Goodman himself and drummer Gene Krupa) in the spring of 1936, and just a bit later made it a quartet by adding the brilliant vibraphonist Lionel Hampton. What may seem an unremarkable sight today—black and white musicians playing together in public—was considered the cutting edge of civil rights at the time and gave America a foretaste of an integrated society a decade before baseball followed suit. LESSON ESSAY Young people struggle to get to Benny Goodman at the Paramount Theatre, New York City, c. 1939. Courtesy of the Duncan P. Schiedt Collection. America’s entry into World War II after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, deeply affected the evolution of jazz, as it did virtually every aspect of American life. Musicians of fighting age from all over the country were drafted into military service. Then, in the late summer of 1942, the musicians’ union called a strike against the record companies, demanding that musicians be fairly compensated for radio and juke box play of recordings. For almost two years, no new instrumental music was recorded for commercial issue. Only vocalists, who were not part of the union, continued to record, accompanied only by other singers. 18 NEA JAZZ IN THE SCHOOLS While instrumental jazz seemed to be stagnating in the United States during and after the war, it was conquering the rest of the world, thanks in part to American military swing bands that traveled around Europe. Still, in the United States, the era of the big band was unmistakably drawing to a close. The union boycott and shifts in taste had elevated singers to heights of popularity from which they have never fallen, and disc jockeys overtook bandleaders as the music business’s new iconic personalities. Yet instrumental jazz was far from dead—by the end of the war a new sound was beginning to emerge that would inherit from swing the modernist mantle. It was called bebop. SWING ERA SINGERS & SMALL GROUPS While the Swing Era was dominated by big bands, small groups did flourish during jazz’s heyday. Many big bands spawned mini-bands, such as Benny Goodman’s trios, quartets, and sextets; Artie Shaw’s Gramercy Five; and Count Basie’s Kansas City Six. Duke Ellington picked star sidemen like Johnny Hodges and Cootie Williams to front small recording groups that, despite their size, managed to retain the unique Ellington ambiance. And virtually every selfrespecting band had its own male and female singers, many of which, including Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra, went on to solo careers. Some small groups managed to shine without the support of a big band leader, including bassist John Kirby’s brilliant sextet and Fats Waller’s Rhythm (as his six-piecer was known), which often featured the pianist’s lively singing. Other groups, like those led by Goodman’s sidemen Lionel Hampton and Teddy Wilson, came together in the studio, leaving us recordings that stand as a veritable who’s who of their era. Billie Holiday also did well recording under her own name, as did Mildred Bailey, the first female singer featured with a big band. The record industry coined the term “vocadance” to market these vocalist-driven discs, which they considered dance records. But later generations of jazz fans have learned to cherish these records—especially the now legendary recordings featuring Billie Holiday and Lester Young— for listening.