Rahsaan Kirk and the Adventures of Musical Representation Or How to Shutdown a Live Show!

As a growing trend throughout the first half of the 20th century, African American jazz music was continuously usurped by white artists who willingly enjoyed popular recognition, top billing over African American artists, monetary gain, and the full embrace of U.S. television when performing jazz. In response, African American jazz artists increasingly protested their dwindling presence within the genre. They sought meaningful ways, through heavy resistance, to make headway into gaining respect and recognition as the progenitors of the jazz genre.

Rahsaan Roland Kirk

By 1970, one jazz artist, in particular, blind saxophonist and multi-instrumentalist Rahsaan Roland Kirk was fed up with the lack of respect and recognition for the African American jazz artist. His point of contention was the invisibility of African American jazz artists on prime time U.S. television. He scoffed at television shows, which showcased lesser talented white musicians representing and performing “our” music while African American luminaries of the genre were absent or on the rare occasion they did appear on a show received an oh-by-the-way second billing.

In mid-summer 1970, Kirk had had enough. He and a few other frustrated musicians such as trumpeter Lee Morgan, saxophonist Billy Harper, drummer Andrew Cyrille, and many others gathered at the Village Vanguard to conceive a plan to achieve a steady and meaningful African American presence on television. Together they devised a plan which moved beyond mere complainant lip service and stationary protest from a decade earlier to one that was more aggressive and disruptive. Frustrated with the accolades of white musicians who perform jazz, Kirk and his group formed Jazz and the People’s Movement or the JPM to combat their situation. Succinctly, the JPM formed to get African American musicians on mainstream U.S. TV.

Lee Morgan

After only a few meetings at the Vanguard, the JPM decided to disrupt the taping of a show to gain the attention of producers. Then in the midst of the disruption question and demand a remedy to the absence African American jazz musicians on prime time TV. Their first order of business was to infiltrate and shut down the popular Merv Griffin Show.

On August 27th, 1970, Kirk and the JPM (about 65 frustrated musicians) assembled a few blocks near New York’s theatre district where the Merv Griffin Show was to record. In the street, they formed an impromptu parade complete with chanting accompanied by handclaps, whistles, flutes, all led by Kirk on clarinet. They made their way to the studio, hid their instruments, and stood in a growing line of unsuspecting audience members. The JPM, showed their tickets (which they bought a week earlier) and quietly made their way into the studio and took their seats. About twenty minutes into the taping of the show, Kirk stood up, pulled out his hidden clarinet, and began to play New Orleans style music as loud as he could. He was instantly joined by all 65 members of the JPM on their whistles and flutes. They filled the studio with music. Amid the attempts to get the JPM to quiet down the show’s producer cued the house band to play anything to drown out the disruptive melodies. The JPM outplayed the house band, which they quickly relented and became spectators in the takeover. Kirk and soloing musicians began to walk out of the audience bleachers and toward the stage. Show host Merv Griffin waved his hands in surrender and ran backstage effectively ending the taping of the show that evening. The JPM surely shut down the taping of a major mainstream television show!

Once on stage, Kirk explained to the stage producers who they were, why they were there, and requested a meeting between himself, Morgan, Griffin, and the lead producers of the show. A long meeting that led to shouting (by Morgan), arguments that examined artist beyond the constant presence of Louis Armstrong to included Theolonius Monk, Horace Silver, and JJ Johnson, the relevance of jazz on TV, to the progressiveness of European television and protest music, all of which was followed by empty promises to include more African American jazz musicians on television.

Theolonius Monk

Kirk and the JPM continued. In the following weeks, joined by Kirks wife, Edith they disrupted, shut down live tapings, and requested meetings with the host and producers of The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson (Oct. 1, 1970) and The Dick Cavett Show (Oct 13, 1970). Word quickly spread to the producers of The Ed Sullivan Show that the JPM was on their way. Rather than have the JPM disrupt their live show, the producers invited Kirk to be a featured musical guest on the show.

On the evening of January 24, 1971, the producers of the Ed Sullivan Show made good on their promise. Kirk assembled a who’s who of jazz musicians of the day. His band for the night included outspoken musicians who were down for the struggle to increase the presence of African American musicians on TV. The band consisted of Charles Mingus on bass (who at this point had not been seen on TV in over two years), as well as Henry Pearson also on bass, Archie Shepp on Saxophone, Sonelius Smith on piano, Roy Haynes on drums, Dick Griffin on trombone, Charles McGhee on trumpet and both Maurice McKinley and Joe Texidor on percussion. This was a powerhouse band.

Charles Mingus. Photo by Lee Friedlander

That evening the show’s producers suggest that Kirk play a tune that was easily accessible for the listening audience. Kirk offered the Stevie Wonder hit “My Cherie Amour” as a popular easy to listen to crossover tune. The producers loved it. During the soundcheck Kirk’s “JPM band” rehearsed Stevie’s hit. However, when the band stood in place on the stage and the cameras went live they tossed out “My Cherie Amour” and launched into Mingus’ “Haitian Fight Song” instead. Stunned and frozen the producers allowed Kirk and his band to perform what Mingus deemed a protest song.

Kirk and the JPM flip the script on Ed Sullivan!

Kirk and his band for a brief moment had achieved what they set out to do: increase the visibility of African American jazz musicians playing real jazz on primetime U.S. television. The audience cheered!

In the end, the Jazz and the People’s Movement was short-lived. The group, shortly after their performance, disbanded and moved onto other projects. Mingus received a Guggenheim Fellowship. Archie Shepp found new musical ways of protest as well as became a professor at the University of Massachusetts school of music. While others move on to various music endeavors.

Patrice Rushen

Kirk and the JPM exposed the lack of jazz music being played by African Americans on primetime TV. White artists playing jazz on TV was so much the norm that it was strange to see someone like Kirk playing on an evening show the very music he helped to shape. In contrast, fast forward 50 years later and it would seem strange not to see African Americans playing all types of music on primetime TV. A quick perusal of recent live television shows such as the Grammys, American Music Awards, and others have been led by the likes of Patrice Rushen, Rickey Minor, and Greg Phillinganes staffed with overwhelmingly African American musicians. An even closer look of today’s late-night shows reveals the proliferation of African American musical artists over the last 20 years with the presence of one-time band leaders Branford Marsalis and Kevin Eubanks and currently, Jon Batiste leading The Late Show with Stephen Colbert band and certainly not to forget The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon with the hiring of The Roots as the shows house band has made a profound and constant presence of African Americans visible on television. No doubt Kirk and the JPM during their brief but sound movement established the undertones for today’s normalcy of African American musicians on TV.

Black Music Month Pt. 1 of 4: Work Songs

Isn’t it amazing we have celebrated Black Music Month for the past 33 years.  Yes, 33 years!  On June 7, 1979, after some convincing talks between music legend Kenny Gamble and Ed Wright and President Jimmy Carter, the first month long celebration began its 33 year reign with a White House concert.

Kenny Gamble

Every year since then America has set aside time and space to “recognizing and celebrating the economic and cultural power of Black music and those who made and promoted it.”  The lasting legacy of Black Music Month is it serves as a stage to honor the most beautiful art form in America.  But more succinctly it shines a light on a musical and rhythmic narrative of dispersed black bodies and an unyielding spirit in search of freedom in the throes of horrific tragedy.

Black music’s origins in America imbued it with a certain peculiarity, which allowed songs to be sung from enslaved bodies while simultaneously allowing their spirit to be free.  Songs had the power to comfort the spirit in turmoil and ease the bounded body.  This power of black music to ease the spirit is found in all genres of black music that ranged from work songs, spirituals, gospel, blues, to jazz, soul, rhythm and blues, funk, disco, and rap.

Black music not only served to release the spirit of black bound bodies but any bound body as well.  By the early 20th century black music in the form of jazz served to release the spirit of economically challenged whites and Jews who felt constrained by the labor and social disparities of the day.  Similarly, the mid 20th century witnessed the cross over appeal of “race music” to America’s youth who felt constrained and limited by their parents’ cultural and social expectations.  Black music had the power to bring together cultures and create a dialogue of freedom amid the common embrace of rhythm.  Sweet!

Having said all that, let’s take this and the next 3 weeks to critically listen to and examine black music from its earliest moments to today.

Some of the earliest forms of black music were formed in the workspace of the rice, cotton and tobacco fields of the South.  Known as “work songs,” they helped to ease the physical rigors of labor on a plantation.

The chain gain ready to work in unison to reset a train track.

Over time, through Emancipation and Southern Reconstruction, work songs found their way into the prison complex at the turn of the 20th century.  In the same way as field work songs did, prison work songs served to ease the intense physical and mental workload of the bound prisoner.  More importantly prison work songs served to create verse and rhythm, which facilitated a concerted effort of labor.  Prison work songs were most common and effective in the “chain gang” (a group of prisoners chained/shackled together to thwart off a running escape).  Take a listen to the following samples of prison work songs and consider the power in their ability to ease labor and free ones spirit.

To be continued . . .