"Those people who made up the songs were the ones who insisted upon life and living, who reaffirmed themselves. They didn't just fall down into the cracks or the holes. I think that was an incredible example for me and I learned a lot from that."
(Odetta's remarks on the songs of slavery, quoted in Sullivan 2011:1)
Dels camps de cotó a l'era Obama: històries amb blues
15, 16, 17,18 de juliol 2013
Aquest curs pretén oferir una visió de les
dificultats i les contradiccions amb les quals s’ha forjat la identitat
afroamericana als Estats Units a través de la música. El curs combina
el relat d’episodis històrics i de mites relacionats amb aquesta música
amb il·lustracions en directe a càrrec de músics destacats de l’escena
barcelonina.
I
started Black Banjo Then and Now because I thought Black banjoists I kept
meeting online needed to get together. As well, we soon found other banjoists
and scholars needed a place to discuss the African origin and Black legacy of
the Banjo.
We
needed a place to express the explosion of African American banjoists
including African American Heritage Elder Etta Baker, Taj Mahal, Alvin
Youngblood Hart, Guy Davis, Otis Taylor, Sule Greg Wilson, Don Vappie, Dr.
Joan, and Rex Ellis, all known in the old-time, blues, classic, and jazz
banjo communities. There are others, less famous, we’ve found along the way
like Boston civic and cultural leader Dr. Theodore Landsmark, William the
Bluegrass picking bailiff on TV’s Texas Justice, Rashunda a former TV
anchor from Highpoint, North Carolina now working in Zurich whose online
queries got me to launch the Black Banjo Then and Now Group in the first
place, elementary school students in Mississippi and Buffalo studying four
string banjo, and a young brother in Georgia who wants to play the blues.
I
did face bigotry from a small pseudo-redneck element in Banjo L in the
month’s before I launched Black Banjo Then and Now. However, banjo-l’s
members and its owner handled them and handled them well. I launched Black
Banjo, not out of any negative feelings bout Banjo-L as has become the myth,
but because of the positive need to gather the Black banjoists and because of
a need to focus the discussions others I met on banjo-l and elsewhere wanted
to have about Black banjo playing, then and now.
The
significant racism comes from those who see old-time music as a cultural
white flight to an old time world as white as the suburbs they inhabit, where
the only blacks are kindly aged relicts who can be foci of their paternalism.
For example, when I casually mentioned Black Banjo in the Yahoo group of an
old-time jam I participated in or on various online lists brought a series of
attacks on me or the idea for having a Black banjo group. Responses included
the idea that banjo playing and old time music are supposed to be “fun” and
apparently Black Banjo playing isn’t and the ever popular idea that
discussing anything from an African American perspective is “racist.”
Yet,
in addressing the real history of the music, you cannot escape the issue of
race. As my dear friend Allen Feldman likes to say, race pervades and you
cannot ignore it or remain neutral. The old time South had a great racial
mixture in music and culture as well as murderous terror against Black
people. Youth influenced by cultural and political radicals revived old-time
music in the late 1950s and early 1960s to embrace the culture and the
struggles of poor and oppressed people, not to flee to the suburbs. The
original Friends of Old Time Music had concerts not only for Tom Ashley and
Dock Boggs, but also for Son House and Dock’s friend, Mississippi John Hurt.
Black Banjo Then and Now revives and intensifies this discourse. We
cannot help but confront the fact that not only was the South of the “old
times” pervaded with racism, but that the society we live in, including
the playing and discussion of old-time music, blues, and every other music,
is pervaded with racism .
Black
Banjo Then and Now is a forum for old-time music players, scholars, and
thinkers who remain concerned for the history and struggles, the Black and
white that pervade the banjo and its musics. We’ve had great contributions
from Dan Gellert, Kerry Blech, Allen Feldman, Joel Shimberg, Andy Cohen,
George Gibson, Scott Odell, and Anita Kermode. Before illness blocked the
way, we had the support and many contributions by the great Stu Jamieson.
We’ve all talked about Maybelle Carter’s banjo and Tom Ashley’s trombone as
well as the Black Johnnie Bukka and the two white Johnny Bookers.
Yet,
Black banjoists also aim to connect with Black scholars, cultural workers,
community leaders, and every day people about how Black banjo playing relates
to African American culture and community Then and Now. We’ve just
received the assistance of Henry Louis Gates in connecting major African
American music scholars with our Gathering and our group. Our goal is to
repatriate the banjo to the Black nationality as well as to connect to our
African and Caribbean cousins who brought the banjo to our shores. We
not only look back to the past, but forward to how Black banjo playing can
relates to the expression of 21st Century Blackness.
We
found things many of us did not expect. For, example we’ve become fascinated
with the continuing story of four and six string Jazz banjoists, the most
significant 20th Century African American banjo experience. We’ve also
discussed the parallels between Black fiddling and banjo playing in the
transmission of playing styles and traditions from Africa. We’ve come to
recognize how much African American string band music of all kinds has been
neglected by both the commercial recording industry and by folklorists of
other eras. We’ve also celebrate the way contemporary African American
banjoists use the banjo for jazz, blues, funk, rap, and other musics that
continue the Black tradition.
All
along we’ve received great support from many in the banjo community,
particularly from the Old Time Herald and its hard working staff and
editors.
Tony Thomas is the
founder and list-owner of Black Banjo Then and Now, an internet listserve. He
lives in North Miami, Florida. He has been playing traditional music since
1962 and he plays a Gold Tone Whyte Laydie banjo.
"También se grabó en esa época [los 60] a una serie de cantantes desconocidos hasta entonces; el más importante de ellos era Mance Lipscomb (n. Navasota, Texas, 9 abril 1895; m. Navasota, 30 enero 1976). Tenía sesenta y seis años cuando grabó por primera vez. Representante de la tradición songster en su forma más pura, gozaba de una considerable reputación en Texas, tanto por su facilidad para tocar música de baile, por ejemplo Buck Dance (Reprise 2012, 1961) y Sugar Babe it's all over now (Arhoolie 1001, 1960), como por su estilo en las viejas baladas, como Ella Speed, o en la única versión que se conserva de Freddie (Arhoolie 1001, 1960). Durante más de cuarenta años trabajó de aparcero; en su Captain Captain(Reprise 2012, 1962) recuerda su época de trabajo en una plantación de Brazos antes de tener su pequeña parcela. Como guitarrista, Lipscomb figura entre los más dotados dentro de la tradición popular negra grabada, lo que quizá refleja la proximidad a Texas de los guitarristas mexicanos, como sugiere su Spanish Flang Dang (Arhoolie 1023, mayo 1964). Se inspiró en los recuerdos de su infancia para componer Take me back; pero como todos los songsters, su repertorio era universal y podía incluir también Shine on, Harvest Moon (compuesta en 1908) o el espiritual Motherless Children (todos en Arhoolie 1026, noviembre 1964). Después de protagonizar la película A Well Spent Life (1971; producida por Les Blank), Lipscomb siguió disfrutando de la popularidad en conciertos y festivales hasta 1973, cuando por motivos de salud se vio obligado a retirarse".
Jack of Spades (a traditional gambling song that Blind Lemmon popularized in 1926)
Algunas de las canciones citadas en el artículo de Cruz (1988):
Ma Rainey's "Booze and Blues" (1924)
Went to bed last night, and boy I was in my sleep, sleep I went to bed last night, and I was in my sleep Woke up this mornin', the police was shakin' me I went to the jailhouse, drunk and blues as I could be (2x) But that cruel old judge sent my man away from me They carried me to the courthouse, Lordy, how I was cryin' (2x) They jailed me sixty days in jail, and money couldn't pay my fine Sixty days ain't long if you can spend them as you choose (2x) But this seems like jail than a cell where there ain't no booze My life is all a misery when I cannot get my booze (2x) I spend every dime on liquor, got to have the booze to go with these blues
Tommy Johnson's "Canned Heat" (1928)
"...una de sus mejores canciones, que también es una de sus más perturbadoras.... La expresión "calor enlatado" es el nombre que recibía comúnmente el Sterno, un combustible para cocinar que los alcohólicos a veces empleaban como sustituto del licor. La llegada de la Ley Seca llevó a muchos bebedores a consumir esta case de productos semilegales, a pesar de los riesgos que conllevaba (...)
si uno escuchara la música sin prestar atención a la letra, quedaría impactado por la alegría y la calidez de la canción. Tal vez se podría pensar que Johnson canta sobre nuevos proyectos o sobre un nuevo amor, pero la letra expresa la noche oscura del alma de la manera más cruda (...) Pocas canciones han logrado transmitir la realidad de una adicción en unos términos tan poderosos" (Gioia 2010:146-147)
Cryin', canned, canned heat, mama Cryin', Dear Lord, killin' me Cryin', canned heat, mama Sho', Lord, killin' me Take alcorub to Take these canned heat blues
Cryin' mama, mama mama Know canned heat killin' me Cryin' mama, mama, mama Cryin' canned heat is killin' me Canned heat don't kill me Cryin', babe I never would die
I woked up a-this mo'nin With canned heat on my mind Woke just this mo'nin' Canned heat was on my mind Woke up this mo'nin With the canned heat, Lord On my mind
Cried, Lord Lord, I wonder Canned heat, Lord, killing me Think alcorub is Tearing apart my soul Because brown-skin woman Don't do the easy roll
I woke up, a-this mo'nin' Cryin', canned heat 'round my bed Run in here, somebody Take these canned heat blues Run here, somebody An take these canned heat blue-ooos.
Cryin', mama, mama, mama Cryin', canned heat killin' me Plead to my soul, Lord They gon' kill me dead.
Blind Blake's "Fighting the Jug" (1929)
Went home last night : my baby won't let me in
She made me mad : and I've got in my gin
I been drunk so long : dizzy all the time
And I found out : whiskey ain't no friend of me
When I die : folks without a doubt
You won't have to do nothing : but pour me out
I can't sleep : and I can't eat a thing
The woman I love : has driven me to drink
I'm deep down in a hole : somebody else is up
Getting sick and tired : of fighting that jug
This is what might be considered the first music video (Piazza 2011:10), with Jimmie Rodgers in his brakeman's outfit: The singing brakeman
Born in 1897 in a railroad town in Mississippi to a rail-road man father, he started working on the railroads at fourteen years old. "Rodgers was really the first white performer to sing the blues convincingly on recordings: he got the essence of it. Blues is, among other things, an antidote to sentimentality, and in singing them Rodgers didn't exaggerate or caricature or force anything" (Piazza 2011:8) He died on May 1933. "His time was not long and he knew it. His entire six years of recording was carried out under what was at the time the almost certain death sentence of tuberculosis (...) Repeatedly ordered by doctors to stay in bed, he never did. In the last three weeks of life, he traveled by train, in the company of a private nurse, from San Antonio to Galveston, and then by boat to New York City for an epic series of recording sessions, so that his wife and daughter would have a backlog of material to help out financially after he was gone (...) Listening to the story, is almost unbearably poignant. If you don't know the story they are merely good records. You would never guess the circumstances" (Piazza 2011:11-12). Piazza's chapter is titled "Jimmie Rodgers died for your sins". A menudo descrito como "el padre de la música country" pero a diferencia de otros músicos de su época, tenía un gusto innato por la música negra. "Rodgers was the first white performer to be aesthetically convincing as an interpreter of the blues (...) It's significant that black musicians seem to have felt comfortable about thim: they often remembered his records (a thing unusual in itself) sometimes well enough to sing them years later. And they were comfortable around him, too: several Mississippi bluesmen have claimed that he hung out or played with them. Even his white contemporaries felt that he had some special understanding of black style. "He crossed that leg" said Cliff Carlisle, "-well, his leg didn't do like mine does; my leg won't hang down... he put one leg over the other, and it was hangin' right down... and he opened that mouth, you know, long jaw, like - anyhow, it is flopped. Jimmie, he reminded me more of a colored person, or a Negro... than anybody I ever saw, in a way" (Russell 2007: 69-70).