Satchmo

(from Pops)

“SATCHMO, WHY I HARDLY KNEW YOU”

Brother Ray will readily recall the youthful joke that went something like this: “I don’t like ____ (I can’t recall the name) cereal because my brother likes it and I don’t like my brother!” Of course, that had nothin’ to do with Ray and me! All the same, we said it and laughed at it without fully understanding what that indirect slam was all about. It hardly mattered. In this many years later instance, I’m shifting the context a bit to say this: “I don’t like Louis Armstrong because my father didn’t like Louis Armstrong; and I loved my father!” There, now you have the long and short of the explanation…not really. What you do have, however, is an earlier Bow Tie in which I wrote about the pride which characterized Chico [ed. note - Chico is my Pops' late father, my grandfather] . He was never “preachy” about issues having to do with race; but it was always clear that being a Black man meant something to him…at as well as below or beyond his dark-skinned surface. In this connection, he had real distain for Black men whose “antics” he found distasteful. His label for these characters was a far cry from the label so freely bandied about these days. But he was not at all reluctant to show his distinct dissatisfaction. For Chico, Louis Armstrong did entirely too much “skinnin’ and grinnin’.” And catching Chico’s drift early on, I became more attuned to Armstrong’s sight than I was to his sound. The same holds fast even to this day; and I am the first to admit the unfairness of it all. I am more than casually aware of the many jazz musicians who, in telling of their own growth and development freely and even joyfully acknowledge their debt to Armstrong. It is not an overstatement, in fact, to say that his impact is legendary. So be it. When I visualize him, I see a “Hello Dolly” character with a white hankie and shiny white teeth. A legendary clown!

Ken Burns’ extensive albeit uneven jazz history project makes a big splash over Louis Armstrong’s role in the history of jazz in and beyond this country. And it would not be fitting to discount that role. At the same time, the distance I put between myself has less to do with his musical talent or innate ability than his persona. Even in the jazz workshops I have done at Antioch, I readily admit my bias. So, students came to understand that they would have to check out other sources to gain an appreciation for the man. In one workshop an avid and outspoken student gave high praise to Armstrong. And, quite frankly, I was glad he spoke up with so much information, so much passion because I knew the students were not going to gain that valuable insight from me!

Quite often I have inwardly played around with the differences between the fool and the clown. There are times when I am not sure that there is a difference or that it matters that much. For my own purposes, I complicate the otherwise trivial matter and consider the wider picture, the context in which the fool/clown does his or her thing. Sadly, I have yet to find it within me to place Louis Armstrong in a context that allows me to take Chico out of the picture and simply enjoy the music. That’s my problem, not his. Drum roll and curtain down.