This is the fifth part of a series on the relationship between jazz and comic books. Go to Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 or Part 4.

In this segment, we will discuss common aspects between jazz and comic books from the point of view of the context in which both languages were created.

As we saw previously, the new media launched by Alex Steinweiss, the designed covers of jazz albums created a high demand for illustrators, who were often also jazz musicians and used stage experimentation for their graphic work to forge the visual identity of the genre. However, these languages have even stronger and broader connections.

Néstor García Canclini, Argentinian Art History professor living in Mexico in his work Hybrid Cultures – Strategies for Entering and Exiting Modernity refers to comic art as an “impure genre”. According to the author, comic art is endowed with the same capacity as graffiti to transition between image and word, between the erudite and the popular, bringing together characteristics of artisanal and mass production.

Cultural manifestations generated at the points of intersection between the cult and the popular, which do not fit into what Social Sciences call “urban culture” are, according to Canclini, hybrid languages. However, the “marginal language” tag profoundly marked the history of comics.Still seen today as a type of “minor literature”, easy to read, made for illiterate people, comic narratives faced (and still face) a lot of suspicion and the same can be said about jazz.

Phillip Kennedy Johnson writes in his article How Comics Are Becoming Jazz:

Both industries [Comic books and Jazz] struggled with censorship early on, both art forms revolve around a small creative team, and both genres have developed distinct sub-genres, each with its own cult following. The similarities are many and significant, but one of the most striking is the reliance of both art forms on “The Standard” and on the artist/creator

According to Johnson, jazz standards have always been an important vehicle to disseminate jazz. He makes a very interesting analogy about what a “standard” means for jazz and comic books:

Go to a college masterclass by a jazz musician, and often you’ll hear them perform “All The Things You Are,” or “Autumn Leaves,” or “My Funny Valentine,” or some other antique show tune that every jazz student knows. These songs were popular before our parents were born. What inspires jazz musicians to play the same tired old songs generation after generation? A simple, well-constructed theme or chord progression with plenty of room for creative interpretation.

Go to any Artist Alley at any comic convention in the world. You’ll find comics professionals drawing and selling sketches of beloved superheroes, most of which are older than the artists themselves. After all these years, what makes the characters of the comic pantheon so appealing to writers, artists and readers? A simple but compelling theme with plenty of room for creative interpretation.

The standard therefore combines novelty with familiarity. They are the classics and literature and cinema are full of works that cross generations, always raising interest and (sometimes heated) debates. It might be difficult to think of jazz stars dressed as comic book heroes and villains (with the honorable exception of the diva Eartha Kitt, equally iconic in the role of Catwoman), but we can say that Johnson’s observations also apply if we think about how the great figures of jazz are portrayed in comic books.

Whether in fictional graphic novels inspired by the universe of jazz, or in the biographies of musicians and singers, the universe of the genre has a series of distinctive elements, repeated to exhaustion and which, as we will see in the next part of this series, created around the genre a aura that is both cool and dramatic.

Be seeing you!

G.F.