Post by AlanB on May 27, 2014 9:29:26 GMT -5
Hopefully what follows will speak for itself. September this year will mark 55 years since the event took place.
LAND OF THE BLUES September 1959
Jacques Demêtre & Marcel Chauvard
The news story dominating the international press in 1959 was the fatal plane crash, and its aftermath, involving Rock & Roll idols Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper; an event which Don McLean in his song American Pie regarded as, “the day the music died”. For the world’s teenagers the music probably did die that year but for two intrepid Frenchmen, Jacques Demêtre and Marcel Chauvard, a music of a different nature was about to come alive.
Politically, 1959 was a year of great moment and change. Fidel Castro overthrew Batista’s regime, General de Gaul was installed as the first president of the 5th French Republic, the assassination of Mr. Bandaranaike of Ceylon (Sri Lanka) was met with mixed emotions, the Dalai Lama fled to India and Archbishop Makarios became president of Cyprus. Musically the world of R&B and Blues was equally eventful. Guitar Slim, Lester Young and Billie Holiday all died at early ages, various scandals were rife including Chuck Berry being convicted of transporting a minor across state lines, members of the Platters vocal group were charged with “aiding and abetting prostitution, lewdness and assignation” (later quashed), and payola raised its ugly head, severely denting the ‘good-guy’ image of deejay Alan Freed.
On the more positive side, Wilbert Harrison’s “Kansas City” held the number one R&B position for a record seven weeks, the movie “Go Johnny Go” was premiered to great acclaim and the first outdoor music festival was inaugurated at the Herndon Stadium, Atlanta, where a 9,000 racially mixed audience saw B.B. King, Ray Charles, Ruth Brown and Jimmy Reed perform. The innovative book “The Country Blues” by Sam Charters was published and Folkways Records released an accompanying LP in their Record, Book and Film (RBF) series.
In September that year, Jacques Demêtre and Marcel Chauvard of France embarked upon a trip to the USA, taking in New York, Detroit and Chicago in search of the “land of the blues” for the magazine Jazz Hot. Their eponymous journey is now the subject of a bi-lingual (French and English) book which recounts in fascinating, diary-like detail, the trials, tribulations and exhilaration’s faced by these pioneers of post-war blues research. It is very easy to take our knowledge of blues and R&B for granted and it is only when reading accounts of this nature does one truly appreciate that the basis of much of what we hold dear today about post-war blues - in particular Chicago and Detroit blues - is down to these two Frenchmen. Some years ago, I was witness to a debacle where somebody was being taken to task over not asking the 'right' questions of artists travelling with the 1964 American Folk Blues Festival. Of course, in 1964 very few knew what questions were appropriate and I tell this tale purely to highlight that, in 1959, it must have been nigh damned impossible to know from where to reference one’s research, let alone know if any questions asked would be appropriate. However, to their credit Demêtre and Chauvard obviously had a fair idea of who to seek out and what to ask because, on countless occasions during my read, I found myself mouthing such expressions as, “so that’s who took that photo” or “they spoke to him before Paul Oliver”, or “they located him!”. If their tale has any apparent naiveté or lack of 'in-depth' knowledge it is because we as readers have the privilege of perception and hindsight based on thirty-six years of accumulated information. The narrative style of the book could be affectionately described as “what we did on our holidays”. At times there is an air of awe-struck reportage and what appears to be a burning desire to over emphasise the squalor of ghetto life; there are even attempts to draw significance from the dress and demeanour of the club patrons. However, when one considers that the text’s original audience was a jazz magazine which had little, or no, interest in the coverage of contemporary blues - the nearest it got was Big Bill’s exploits in Europe or Kurt Mohr’s regular discographical articles on artists like Buddy Johnson, King Kolax or Erskine Hawkins - then the approach is perfectly understandable.
The story commences in New York with the “fascinating prospect of being guests in a black household, most probably in the heart of the ghetto”. The household in question was that of Jack and Lucille Dupree who, unbeknown to Demêtre and Chauvard, were going through a period of matrimonial upset - Jack had rowed with his wife and left home. Not the most auspicious of starts but Lucille acted as hostess until Jack had calmed down sufficiently to return home. He then went out of his way to guide them around New York and its musicians. Among the many Dupree introduced them to were Henry Glover, Bobby Robinson, Lafayette Thomas, Tarheel Slim, Little Anne and Sam Price, but interestingly, the greatest portion of the chapter is devoted (pun not intended) to gospel music; either as performed in the churches of Reverend Childs and Daddy Grace, or by the Gospel Caravan members at the Apollo. Those they saw perform at the Apollo read like a Who’s Who of gospel, but equally fascinating are Demêtre and Chauvard's observations on the audiences and their reactions - both in the aisles of the church and in those of the Apollo’s auditorium.
From New York they travelled to Detroit and Joe Von Battle’s record shop-cum-recording studio on Hastings Street (we see that much used colour photograph of John Lee Hooker with guitar on the Street, which invariably goes unaccredited). Battle arranged for them to meet and see perform, Hooker, Little Sonny, Emmett Slay, Eddie Kirkland and T.J. Fowler and impressed upon his visitors something we all regard as received wisdom but back then was shattering news: “I bet you anything you want that I could never sell a Blind Lemon Jefferson record. Not even to the older folks. You must admit that many black people really despise the blues”. Inside Detroit’s Apex Club they felt intimidated by the establishment (“cut-throat den”) and experienced hostility from those with whom they attempted to speak (“laughed sarcastically and shook his fist at us”). Bemused, but not undaunted by their experience in that black club, their next scheduled visit was to be similar establishments on Chicago’s South and West sides, but at least they were prepared for the worst and ensured they had ‘allies’ from within the community (viz, Muddy Waters), unlike certain European visitors of a decade later.
The most fascinating chapter of the entire book is that telling of their exploits in the Windy City. Not only did they examine the contemporary scene (Lee Jackson, George Buford, J.B. Lenoir, Otis Rush, Elmore James, Freddie King, Little Walter etc.) but they also sought out and enquired of the previous generation of blues artists like Tampa Red, Kokomo Arnold, St. Louis Jimmy, Curtis Jones and Red Nelson thereby establishing and demonstrating the evolution and continuum of the music. The other big “plus” are the photographs - many previously unseen - and some a jaw-dropping experience. However the one that caused me to smile is that of B.B. King sitting on a hotel bed with records and books on the bedspread; twenty years later he was photographed by Charles Sawyer in a hotel suite in Lake Tahoe, the floor stacked with LPs. Some things don’t change! The chapter tells many illuminating stories but commences with a cautionary tale, one that will strike a chord with anyone who has tried to arrange an interview. They contacted Ewart Abner who in turn said he’d find Jimmy Bracken. After many calls, various messages and generally being given the run-around our intrepid researchers had to admit that “we cursed the fact that we were wasting time”. They did eventually meet up and it is to our good fortune that their initial bad experience in Chicago didn’t deter them in their mission. By the end of the chapter the quantity of information gleaned from all those with whom they spoke is astonishing; information which was to lay the foundation for all future research into Chicago blues.
In reviewing this work I have purposely avoided mentioning specifics and have shunned detail for, in my view, to do so would profoundly spoil the sense of occasion this book engenders in its reader. In his introduction Sebastian Danchin chronicles the rise of research into post-war blues/R&B and ably redresses many misconceptions, including the important part played by Jacques Demêtre and Marcel Chauvard. It is therefore appropriate to leave the final word to Danchin: “But nothing more needs to be said, for the words and photographs amply show the acumen of two great pioneers who perceived, long before the general public, the cultural and emotive power of the blues”. Amen to that ALAN BALFOUR
Land of the Blues/Voyage au Pays du Blues Jacques Demêtre and Marcel Chauvard. Published by CLARB, 25 rue Trezel, 92300 Levallois-Perrett, France. 176 pps, 94 photographs. 190 French francs.
(Double spread feature review, Blues & Rhythm 97, March 1995, p. 14-15 minus the photographs)
LAND OF THE BLUES September 1959
Jacques Demêtre & Marcel Chauvard
The news story dominating the international press in 1959 was the fatal plane crash, and its aftermath, involving Rock & Roll idols Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper; an event which Don McLean in his song American Pie regarded as, “the day the music died”. For the world’s teenagers the music probably did die that year but for two intrepid Frenchmen, Jacques Demêtre and Marcel Chauvard, a music of a different nature was about to come alive.
Politically, 1959 was a year of great moment and change. Fidel Castro overthrew Batista’s regime, General de Gaul was installed as the first president of the 5th French Republic, the assassination of Mr. Bandaranaike of Ceylon (Sri Lanka) was met with mixed emotions, the Dalai Lama fled to India and Archbishop Makarios became president of Cyprus. Musically the world of R&B and Blues was equally eventful. Guitar Slim, Lester Young and Billie Holiday all died at early ages, various scandals were rife including Chuck Berry being convicted of transporting a minor across state lines, members of the Platters vocal group were charged with “aiding and abetting prostitution, lewdness and assignation” (later quashed), and payola raised its ugly head, severely denting the ‘good-guy’ image of deejay Alan Freed.
On the more positive side, Wilbert Harrison’s “Kansas City” held the number one R&B position for a record seven weeks, the movie “Go Johnny Go” was premiered to great acclaim and the first outdoor music festival was inaugurated at the Herndon Stadium, Atlanta, where a 9,000 racially mixed audience saw B.B. King, Ray Charles, Ruth Brown and Jimmy Reed perform. The innovative book “The Country Blues” by Sam Charters was published and Folkways Records released an accompanying LP in their Record, Book and Film (RBF) series.
In September that year, Jacques Demêtre and Marcel Chauvard of France embarked upon a trip to the USA, taking in New York, Detroit and Chicago in search of the “land of the blues” for the magazine Jazz Hot. Their eponymous journey is now the subject of a bi-lingual (French and English) book which recounts in fascinating, diary-like detail, the trials, tribulations and exhilaration’s faced by these pioneers of post-war blues research. It is very easy to take our knowledge of blues and R&B for granted and it is only when reading accounts of this nature does one truly appreciate that the basis of much of what we hold dear today about post-war blues - in particular Chicago and Detroit blues - is down to these two Frenchmen. Some years ago, I was witness to a debacle where somebody was being taken to task over not asking the 'right' questions of artists travelling with the 1964 American Folk Blues Festival. Of course, in 1964 very few knew what questions were appropriate and I tell this tale purely to highlight that, in 1959, it must have been nigh damned impossible to know from where to reference one’s research, let alone know if any questions asked would be appropriate. However, to their credit Demêtre and Chauvard obviously had a fair idea of who to seek out and what to ask because, on countless occasions during my read, I found myself mouthing such expressions as, “so that’s who took that photo” or “they spoke to him before Paul Oliver”, or “they located him!”. If their tale has any apparent naiveté or lack of 'in-depth' knowledge it is because we as readers have the privilege of perception and hindsight based on thirty-six years of accumulated information. The narrative style of the book could be affectionately described as “what we did on our holidays”. At times there is an air of awe-struck reportage and what appears to be a burning desire to over emphasise the squalor of ghetto life; there are even attempts to draw significance from the dress and demeanour of the club patrons. However, when one considers that the text’s original audience was a jazz magazine which had little, or no, interest in the coverage of contemporary blues - the nearest it got was Big Bill’s exploits in Europe or Kurt Mohr’s regular discographical articles on artists like Buddy Johnson, King Kolax or Erskine Hawkins - then the approach is perfectly understandable.
The story commences in New York with the “fascinating prospect of being guests in a black household, most probably in the heart of the ghetto”. The household in question was that of Jack and Lucille Dupree who, unbeknown to Demêtre and Chauvard, were going through a period of matrimonial upset - Jack had rowed with his wife and left home. Not the most auspicious of starts but Lucille acted as hostess until Jack had calmed down sufficiently to return home. He then went out of his way to guide them around New York and its musicians. Among the many Dupree introduced them to were Henry Glover, Bobby Robinson, Lafayette Thomas, Tarheel Slim, Little Anne and Sam Price, but interestingly, the greatest portion of the chapter is devoted (pun not intended) to gospel music; either as performed in the churches of Reverend Childs and Daddy Grace, or by the Gospel Caravan members at the Apollo. Those they saw perform at the Apollo read like a Who’s Who of gospel, but equally fascinating are Demêtre and Chauvard's observations on the audiences and their reactions - both in the aisles of the church and in those of the Apollo’s auditorium.
From New York they travelled to Detroit and Joe Von Battle’s record shop-cum-recording studio on Hastings Street (we see that much used colour photograph of John Lee Hooker with guitar on the Street, which invariably goes unaccredited). Battle arranged for them to meet and see perform, Hooker, Little Sonny, Emmett Slay, Eddie Kirkland and T.J. Fowler and impressed upon his visitors something we all regard as received wisdom but back then was shattering news: “I bet you anything you want that I could never sell a Blind Lemon Jefferson record. Not even to the older folks. You must admit that many black people really despise the blues”. Inside Detroit’s Apex Club they felt intimidated by the establishment (“cut-throat den”) and experienced hostility from those with whom they attempted to speak (“laughed sarcastically and shook his fist at us”). Bemused, but not undaunted by their experience in that black club, their next scheduled visit was to be similar establishments on Chicago’s South and West sides, but at least they were prepared for the worst and ensured they had ‘allies’ from within the community (viz, Muddy Waters), unlike certain European visitors of a decade later.
The most fascinating chapter of the entire book is that telling of their exploits in the Windy City. Not only did they examine the contemporary scene (Lee Jackson, George Buford, J.B. Lenoir, Otis Rush, Elmore James, Freddie King, Little Walter etc.) but they also sought out and enquired of the previous generation of blues artists like Tampa Red, Kokomo Arnold, St. Louis Jimmy, Curtis Jones and Red Nelson thereby establishing and demonstrating the evolution and continuum of the music. The other big “plus” are the photographs - many previously unseen - and some a jaw-dropping experience. However the one that caused me to smile is that of B.B. King sitting on a hotel bed with records and books on the bedspread; twenty years later he was photographed by Charles Sawyer in a hotel suite in Lake Tahoe, the floor stacked with LPs. Some things don’t change! The chapter tells many illuminating stories but commences with a cautionary tale, one that will strike a chord with anyone who has tried to arrange an interview. They contacted Ewart Abner who in turn said he’d find Jimmy Bracken. After many calls, various messages and generally being given the run-around our intrepid researchers had to admit that “we cursed the fact that we were wasting time”. They did eventually meet up and it is to our good fortune that their initial bad experience in Chicago didn’t deter them in their mission. By the end of the chapter the quantity of information gleaned from all those with whom they spoke is astonishing; information which was to lay the foundation for all future research into Chicago blues.
In reviewing this work I have purposely avoided mentioning specifics and have shunned detail for, in my view, to do so would profoundly spoil the sense of occasion this book engenders in its reader. In his introduction Sebastian Danchin chronicles the rise of research into post-war blues/R&B and ably redresses many misconceptions, including the important part played by Jacques Demêtre and Marcel Chauvard. It is therefore appropriate to leave the final word to Danchin: “But nothing more needs to be said, for the words and photographs amply show the acumen of two great pioneers who perceived, long before the general public, the cultural and emotive power of the blues”. Amen to that ALAN BALFOUR
Land of the Blues/Voyage au Pays du Blues Jacques Demêtre and Marcel Chauvard. Published by CLARB, 25 rue Trezel, 92300 Levallois-Perrett, France. 176 pps, 94 photographs. 190 French francs.
(Double spread feature review, Blues & Rhythm 97, March 1995, p. 14-15 minus the photographs)