"Let it rain, let it storm!" This was the chant led by The Original Pin Stripe Brass Band as drops began to fall on the elated crowd jamming the street. But this wasn’t a New Orleans street parade or the New Orleans Jazz Fest, where you would expect to see such unfettered dancers, spurred by the sizzling second line beat and funky horns and welcoming the rain as mere lubrication for the soul.
This was Montreal, Canada, site of the 20th edition of the Montreal International Jazz Festival, one of the world’s top jazz events, which ran this year from July 1st through July 11th. On the eve of July 5th, Pin Stripe played the "Louisiana Stage," one of nine free outdoor stages dispersed around four city blocks in the heart of downtown Montreal. Closed off to traffic, the streets teemed with French Canadians of all ages and hues, tourists from all over the world, and a few foreign journalists like this writer.
Pin Stripe drew thousands, overflowing the streets and spilling back onto the steps leading up to the Place Des Arts. The crowd started off passive, those in front actually sitting down politely to allow a better view for others, but it didn’t take long for this powerful band with two tubas and a five-horn front line to get those bodies moving. Pin Stripe swung from the old-school "Lord, Lord, Lord" right into "Hey Pocky Way" and "Feet Can’t Fail Me Now," combining a deep-roots traditional jazz sound with r&b, gospel, blues, soul, Caribbean inflection and the improvised call and response chants currently heard in the street parades. They seemed all the more potent compared to the Canadian brass bands who had plodded through listless sets earlier that afternoon. In other words, Pin Stripe "brought that fire," and the dancing throng met the rain with an almost reckless enthusiasm.
It was one of the most powerful displays of Louisiana music’s appeal on foreign soil that I have witnessed (only topped by Rockin’ Dopsie Jr.’s midnight concerts at Umbria Jazz in Italy last year). Moments like these offer a glimpse into how crucial our music is on a world stage right now. In fact, the two major trends currently influencing international jazz festivals are Latin and New Orleans/Louisiana music; you’d be hard pressed to find a major jazz festival not tying in both or at least one of these elements. This means our music is more in demand and has wider impact than ever before. Besides merely entertaining, our artists are out there defining a romantic, rootsy notion of our culture that continues to draw people to New Orleans as a cultural mecca.
This explains why the Louisiana Office of Culture, Recreation & Tourism (CRT) would want to invest approximately $250,000 to sponsor the Montreal Jazz Festival this year, a deal creating not only the special Louisiana stage, but a central information booth from which to hand out brochures outlining why Louisiana is an ideal vacation spot. Of course, this money will probably come back four-fold in tourism revenue, but isn’t it strange that our state government is eager to use our music on foreign soil to entice tourists, but will simultaneously legislate against the music at home? Are we at OffBeat the only ones aware of this hypocrisy? Why do we neglect one of our greatest assets at home and then celebrate and promote it abroad?
Besides this disturbing contradiction, there are also reasons to be concerned about how our music is presented at these events all over the world. Latin music seems more likely to be treated as an exotic art form, showcased in a major concert format, while New Orleans music is likely to be treated as "entertainment" or "party music." New Orleans music is often featured outdoors in a loose atmosphere where the artist’s name is less important. The music is attached to other features, such as a jazz dinner cruise or a street parade. Of course, this is totally appropriate for much of our music, but there is still the danger of it being devalued in the process.
For the most part, this year’s Montreal Jazz Festival managed to transcend these cliches, showcasing a wide diversity of Louisiana music in a variety of presentation formats. Sure, there was a Louisiana dinner jazz cruise and a midnight cruise on a Mississippi style riverboat, as well as daily second-line parades led by Pin Stripe. But there was also a stunning night concert from the Branford Marsalis Quartet, and a major "Louisiana Night" concert, which featured Henry Butler, Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown’s Big Band and Buckwheat Zydeco, who had ’em dancing in the aisles. In addition, there were featured slots for Mem Shannon, Roland Stone, Wanda Rouzan, Nathan & The Zydeco Cha Chas, Steve Riley and The Mamou Playboys, and Balfa Toujours. Cajun singer-songwriter Zachary Richard, whose recent record is a huge hit in Canada, did an acoustic show broadcast live over national Canadian television. Movie star jazz crooner Harry Connick Jr. was scheduled to open the festival, but his concert was cancelled due to a labor strike by stage technicians at the venue.
Presenting this kind of variety to an international audience is crucial to eliminating established stereotypes and prejudices about Louisiana music. We have to realize that the vast majority still associate New Orleans music and culture with outdated, romantic notions of black musical expression. Despite the great individual achievements of the Marsalis brothers, as well as Terence Blanchard, Donald Harrison, Nicholas Payton and countless others, most people still do not easily associate our music with modern artistic expression. When they visualize New Orleans music, they generally picture trad-jazz musicians, a smiling Satchmo or a jazz funeral.
The real fear is that Festival producers, under pressure to pander to audience expectations, will only bring in retro, black entertainers from New Orleans, reinforcing the idea that our music is merely a quaint folk expression rather than a living breathing art form that continues to influence the entire music world (in the same way that Latin music does). This is why it’s so difficult for Astral Project to win gigs at major modern jazz fests (such as Montreal’s), despite their status as the best modern jazz group in New Orleans. As a white, middle-aged modern jazz group, they don’t fit the stereotypical image of New Orleans jazz.
There is also the fear that Louisiana artists themselves will pander to expectations, allowing their own identity to be swallowed up by the larger New Orleans identity. For example, James Andrews’ performance in Montreal on July 2nd was somewhat disappointing because instead of the funky original material which the trumpeter showcased at our Jazz Fest (a show which brought the house down), he played almost all traditional covers like "Bye Bye Blackbird," "Saints," and "St. Louis Blues." He seemed to be "dumbing down" his performance to please the crowd, which probably would have eaten up his original music, given half a chance.
On the other hand, thank God for Henry Butler. On July 4th, I joined a small audience for a live TV taping for the Canadian version of MTV, an hour long spotlight on just Butler and his astounding piano and soul drenched vocals. The first three songs he played were purely instrumental, and even when he began belting out the blues, he consistently emphasized his virtuosity. In the end, the crowd got what they desired in Professor Longhair’s "Mardi Gras," but Butler continued to stretch and embellish, giving them more than they bargained for. Ultimately, it is up to our artists to demonstrate in this way that our music is as much about artistic virtuosity as it is great party music, that we can move forward as well as backwards, otherwise it will eventually become a tiresome cliche that will fade from international importance.
In August, be sure to catch the tasty jazz vocals of Kristina Mochado, who plays Snug Harbor with her quartet on the 8th. Also, New Orleans diva Barbara Shorts sings with her group High Spirit at Storyville throughout August: the 4th, 5th, 18th, and 24th from 9pm-12am and on the 21st from 6-9pm. Shorts describes her music as "soul-jazz." "It’s very spiritual. Every song makes me want to shout, that’s how high energy it is. I feel like I’m in church sometimes."
