|
more english interviews and articles
Wadada
Leo Smith : The OFN Interview [part
1]|[part
2]
by
Matthew Sumera
onefinalnote.com June
2005
In this second part of the OFN interview with Wadada Leo Smith, the trumpeter
speaks candidly about his own musical contributions, the role of travel in his
music, and the overarching political and social role of art and music in general.
He also speaks out on issues related to critical approaches to African American
art, the racial coding of critical analysis, and the current state of music journalism.
What about recording
improvised music? Do you look at that as documenting, or
do you look at that as an economic necessity, or how do you
look at the recording processes?
It’s a way of documenting
new discoveries. In the world we live in now, and the one that
people lived in before, and the one that’s coming, economics
will play a strong part in everything. Because the economy
of how you develop wealth is also based off of the economy
of life, how you live in a society and provide for yourself.
So those issues don’t really come into play.
What really comes into
play is how can one document this research that they have amassed
and have other people experience it. Because the whole object
of art is to make a better society. Not just for the person
who’s doing or the person who’s looking, but at
large, whether today or tomorrow or the future, to make a better
society. And art objects live past the human tenure. That’s
why we can appreciate a Louis Armstrong, or a Bach, or a Jimi
Hendrix. These things live past you. And once they live past
you they continue to enrich the world that they were a part
of, and that we now are a part of, and even what’s coming
in the future, for humanity, to make a better humanity or a
humanity that makes decisions based off of intelligent research
and based off of the strong resolve of the heart and not make
decisions based off of conflict and war, or conflict and terror.
Because that’s where
our world has gone wrong. We have a world society now that
has built a new generation of ideas about solving conflict
based off of war, or creating conflict to dominate other societies,
based off of war and economics. And it has destroyed the human
heart right now. And this repair—and there’s a
lot to repair and it’s going to take a lot of sincere
artists to do it—and right now I’m afraid that
I don’t have much trust in what’s going to make
the repair. And the reason I don’t have any trust in
it is because art is like every other system right now, and
it has become commercial, you see. Now there’s an underground,
and there’s always an underground, but by and large the
commercialization of art has taken away the value that art
has in society. It has lost that value.
So how do you get back
that value?
To get back to that value,
that’s really a very hard question to answer. But the
one thing that I do know is that if in fact those people that
truly make art objects to really enhance and empower mankind,
humankind, they are the ones that can make this return. And
as you know, now, they are the ones that people tend not to
listen to. You know, if you take, for example, my music as
an example of a music that people kinda hold on the cusp, you
see, but when I do Yo Miles! music, I mean there are thousands
of reviews and hundreds of interviews, and this and that. And
it’s true: they cannot kill Miles now, he’s already
dead. They cannot stop him: he’s already made his legacy
and achievements.
But they can appreciate
something coming out of that something now, and when in fact
the same music that I make with the Yo Miles! music is the
same as I’ve made before. It’s my understanding
of how to use the language and what kind of diction he used,
depending upon what state and stage I’m presenting it
at. But it’s the same thing. But the element of play
for the other side of the coin, of which I have made quite
a bit of contribution to, is held at a marginal level, you
see. And that is not an accident, not just for me but other
artists as well, whether it be in film or independent journalists
who they also stop in the same kind of way, who see what’s
happening in society but cannot get the words out to make an
impact. They are effectively stopped.
It’s interesting
that you mention that the earlier stuff is forgotten or is
marginalized and the Yo Miles! has gotten a lot of press.
Do you hope that the press will turn people back to the other
stuff that you’re doing as well?
Oh it’s definitely
already happened. The point that I was trying to make is that
it comes in another kind of dimension of which people are willing
to kind of take a look at, because they cannot point the finger
of success or failure towards Miles Davis or some other element,
you see. Whereas like these other musics, they look directly
at us as being the points of focus. And also, the papers and
music magazines have a hard time—they rarely review our
work, you know. So that’s the point I’m trying
to make. Not that Yo Miles! has not been helpful, and it will
be helpful. That is definitely a fact. It has helped a tremendous
lot already. I’m definitely aware of that. I’m
not, how would you say, beating a horse that has drove me across
the horizon.
I have two quick follow-up
questions. One question is in relation to your travel. And
I’m interested in this in particular because you were
talking about music as being an expression of the opinion
of the society in which you’re living [see part one
of the interview]. Does that mean that the opinion and the
music itself necessarily changes based upon where you’re
at at the time—if you’re in Iceland, or if you’re
in Paris, or if you’re in Chicago? Does that directly
inform the music? How does place function in the music?
Well place functions like
this: it does definitely give you a new canvas to paint on,
but you still have the same heart and head and intelligence.
And the same problems that you face on one side of the continent
are also on the other side. And the people that you are trying
to make art for, in any corner of the world, they suffer the
same problems of hunger, of no national health care, of very
little concern for community development, and bigness, too
much bigness. Hospitals are now managed by administrators who
have nothing to do with medicine, and art conglomerates are
run by art administrators who know nothing about art. So it’s
the same thing, you still have the same problems. So the issues
of addressing the human equation or the human condition don’t
change, you see.
And everybody on whatever
part of the planet they live on, they still want to send their
kids to school, they still want to see that equal rights are
given to everybody including women, that women can hold positions
that are equal to men and also get the same damn pay for it.
It doesn’t happen at no university on the planet at the
moment, you know. The same issues exist. I mean, they don’t
pay women in Europe any more equal to men in universities,
just like here in this country, they don’t do it either,
or in Japan, or wherever we look in any affluent society. You’ll
never find that this equation has matched up. And then the
issue of health, particularly in countries like America where
we live. I mean, like, come on, we don’t have a national
health program and it’s been an issue for the last 100
years. So it’s the same issue.
And how does music solve
the problem? It allows the person a moment to reflect minus
the distraction of living and being involved in living. And
that reflection allows them that little moment with themselves
so that they can figure out the best way to maneuver through
this maze of a society. That’s what art does for us,
you see. And if a person that engages in experiencing art truly
does drop the outside when they walk into an area to participate
in art, they will be liberated. At just that very moment inside
the theater or inside the performance space, they will be liberated.
And they will have the same problems, but they have experienced
a few moments of liberation to give them enough energy to carry
on until the next challenge comes.
One of my favorite
lines is from J.D. Salinger and he talks about we move our
entire lives from one little piece of holy ground to the
next. And that moment of time that you make sacred, if ever
only briefly, but then it’s the extension of that.
Looking for those moments and creating those moments...
I totally agree with him,
and I actually see that too. Because that is the dimension
in which we live in. And that’s also the same dimension
for change, you see. If everyone is hungry and wants to get
a job and then they vote for the wrong person to be in office,
that don’t mean that they don’t have the potential
for change. They do have it, but it means that they didn’t
take the opportunity to use that energy that they have for
change. They did allow the status quo to outweigh their own
personal experience. You know like you take for example Florida
and Ohio in our last national election and you see the same
components at work, you see.
You were talking about
violence before, and about people solving conflict through
violence. What I’m constantly confused by when I read
criticism of post-bop music is a description of it as violent,
and an understanding of dissonance as somehow violent. And
someone describing Coltrane’s as aggressive music,
or Ayler, or musicians like that. And I’m wondering
what your response would be to critics who have heard what
I think a lot of us think as very spiritual statements but
hear instead nothing but anger and violence?
Those people would not
call Symphony No. 4 violent. No they would not. And
it’s by Charles Ives, and it’s one of the most
intense works an American has created. But at the same token
they would call Ascension violent, which is a spiritual
piece, and also Symphony No. 4 is also a spiritual piece.
Charles Ives was a very spiritual human being. I think they
use that in playing the racial card, if you want, to hear what
the truth is. To them, that’s a code word, this notion
of violence is a code word for race, and they buy into it by
writing hip and getting in little denials of human rights through
what they determine is criticism, but really is not criticism,
you see. They’re not using a critical model to analyze
the music. As you know, they’re actually writing about
their opinions of a piece of music, and they take the status
quo markings to reflect it.
It’s like hip hop.
They say hip hop is violent. Before then they said that bebop
is violent. And before then, I’m sure they called the
jungle music violent, because the whole notion of jungle is
kind of a threatening and violent kind of a thing. So if you
look at the history of African American arts in general, from
literature straight across to visual arts to sonic arts, their
notion has often called it violent. The thing that they don’t
understand about these arts is that these arts are completed
with multiple, multiple centers of activity, you see, and they
can’t get past that. They think that that’s violence.
That’s a music that’s multi-dominant in form. An
art form that is multi-dominant. That is, it has multiple themes
or multiple elements in it that are competing for the same
central admission and meaning in a work of art. But yet they
still are not equipped to integrate that work of art into their
generalized form as a single art element, you see. That happens
to be one of the phenomena of African belief or part of the
philosophical lookout on life. If anybody has ever studied
the anthropological nature of African people, they’ll
find that this multi-dominant theme is completed throughout
the society, in every aspect of it.
George Lewis writes
about that in an essay called “Too Many Notes”,
where he talks about African American musicians being told
that they are playing too much or that African American painters
are using too much color...
Exactly, that’s
exactly what we’re talking about. And let me go back
to another great artist, a guy by the name of Addison Gayle.
He wrote a book called The Black Aesthetic. That book
is filled with valuable information for today as well, and
particularly, you know, looking at how people look at African
American art or African art in general.
So ultimately, what
would be a good critic? Or are critics just sort of a necessary
evil?
Well, a critic is not
an evil. See, I don’t take it as an evil. A good critic
would be one who actually looked at the work of art first of
all for their own enlightenment. That would be the first criteria.
Second criteria: if in fact they’re doing it for a paper
or some periodical or some journal, than they should do it
in the same way, you see--make it that I’m doing this
for me first and also doing it for them. And then thirdly:
the greatest notion of sincerity should be demonstrated at
all times. And probably the final one would be that the deepest
and most profound level of respect is exhibited for the art
that they’re looking at.
And I find that absent
most often, those four elements. Because you know like today,
basically, most people have too many things to write about.
There’re too many things to look at, meaning that if
a guy has ten CDs and he’s got to review all ten of them
in one week or two weeks, that’s too many. So the economy
should be reflected in a way that allows the journalist the
chance to live with the work as they write about it. And, of
course, economically that should be part of it. But they don’t
do that. The editor doesn’t do it because everybody’s
dealing with deadlines and the need to make more capital. So
that’s basically what’s wrong with journalism.
Not that there’s something wrong with people who are
writing who are journalists. And the form itself has a great
place within our social spectrum.
You run through your life,
and you hope that you can show something that enlightens somebody
at some point in time. And if that happens, then that is really
leading to a better humanity, a better society.
part
1 of this interview
more english interviews and articles
© 1997-2011 Ishmael Wadada Leo Smith
|