Emancipating Syncopation

Sometimes location is everything. Picture a cross between a circus house and a deco bar, in the recessed nook where glazed panes of looming bay windows stand sentry, a large cylindrical cage sits in empty exhibition. There is a whimsical eeriness that exudes from the display. I can almost picture the full, curious eyes of a captured prime ape gazing back at me, shadowed by the iron bars of its webbed chamber. Inside the tavern of choice, hot, blistering lines of saxy jazz penetrate the air. Families and friends lounge about sipping ciders and munching on bowls filled with dusted snacks and filled chocolates. I notice the array of assorted-sized vessels seems to gleam amber with a kaleidoscopic hue—the glassware grouped on tables like cellular pods of honeycomb. It’s December after all. The seasonal shopping coma has them at the mercy of alcohol’s luring embrace. Collectively, they seek reprieve, a hive mind fixated on the highs and lows of America's giftasia. Tucked into the front corner, the very reason for my visitation, a four-piece layers the atmosphere, with warm, crisp melodies, spiced with a healthy dose of Creole swing.

Gettysburg, PA, may not be the first place that comes to mind when imagining a venue for the African-American arts. An uncanny awareness is drawn to the imposing memorial just a few miles away. Scattered throughout the town are numerous sites that harken to a dark period of America's relatively short history, one full of extraordinary racial strife. Despite the jolly scene, I can't help but find myself ruminating on an underlying narrative. To put it bluntly, time can be a great equalizer. I consider that in the 1860s and prior—a period where persons of color, specifically, those of Afro-heritage, collectively making up the African Diaspora, survived on this very soil with less than basic human rights or even status—the concept that African-American music as an art form would be exported internationally and symbolize America's greatest contribution to globalized culture would have, at the time, been a ludicrous proposition. However, post-Civil War, and a longer continuing history of struggle for equalized human rights in this country, the association is practically a marital relationship.

Blake Shaw Quartet Playing at Cidery

Jazz— through its strong connections to the American Civil Rights era—externalizes a universal cry for freedom and equality. Dr. Martin Luther King (MLK) identifies the connection between jazz and the ethos of civil freedom; in his speech at the 1964 Berlin Jazz Festival MLK writes: [“This is triumphant music… singing songs of a more complicated urban existence…”]. Jazz is often depicted as “dirty music”; even while garbed in its classy smooth tones, jazz seems to manifest the noir of urban living. Recently, I came across a video of an Israeli quartet playing a rooftop show, missiles illuminating the night sky in the distance. The baleful scene somehow exuded an alluring milieu. As if the musicians were dependent on the impending destruction unfolding in the backdrop, as if without it, their tune would lose its glamor. Jazz is about facing life's difficulties, and smiling in moments of trial and tribulation, as the great Charlie Chaplin writes, "Smile, even though it's [the heart is] breaking..." is part of recognizing the miracle of simply being alive. I wonder if I could smile in 1863, the way that I can now. Ear to ear. Knowing, even while people try to ignore the injustices and suffering in the world, it's captured by the sweet-like-honey melodies of musically inclined sages. Telling us to find it in ourselves to love inwardly, just a fraction of the amount we try to display outwardly. That our unadulterated self is the greatest gift we can give.