What is your favourite superhero power? Which one would you like to have yourself? Are you sure you could live with it? Let me tell you something: Despite being exciting and awe-inspiring in fiction, superpowers might be incredibly challenging to manage in everyday life. And I really should know, because I have a superpower myself, true story.

Oh, I never told you about it? Well, I do. I have super senses. Well, at least some. Definitely the hearing. So, when the doctor asked for an audiometry to try to find the reason for my increasingly frequent sinusitis, I thought: “Okay, but I am sure it will not help us in this case”.

Obediently, I strolled in for my audiometry test. And guess what? The verdict: even better than last time! The doc was all impressed, but before you accuse me of bragging, let me assure you, having super hearing does not make my life easier and neither make me immune to pesky sinusitis attacks! Oh, the little ironies of life!

Having heightened hearing abilities can be both a blessing and a curse. In fact, they may introduce their own set of unique struggles: while it is fascinating to pick up on even the faintest of sounds, it also means being constantly bombarded with the cacophony of everyday life. The hum of electricity, the rustle of leaves, the distant chatter of people – they all merge into an overwhelming symphony that never seems to fade.

Ah, the delightful paradox of possessing extraordinary abilities while being surrounded by ordinary adversities! In my case, the greatest obstacle happens to be my cacophonous, off-key neighbors. I cannot help but ponder whether this is an unavoidable prerequisite for renting a space in this building. I mean, what are the chances of every single neighbor lacking the ability to hit a single note? It is a true symphony of disharmony indeed!

I am quite aware of the fact that musicians, bless their hearts, seem to have developed a bit of a reputation for being rather stubborn when it comes to the playlists of other people. They can be quite particular about what they consider “good music,” and they have a knack for unearthing tracks from the deepest, darkest corners of the musical world. I wonder if this is why I feel so personally affected the bad musical taste of my neighbors and their irritating inability to sing.

Or, perhaps, the reason comes from something else, immensely more harmful to our life in community than being out of tune: our increasing incapacicity to truly listen the inability to listen, whether to others or to oneself. In many instances, the inability to tune in and listen attentively stems from a place much more detrimental to our collective existence than the mere music taste related discordance.

The inability to truly listen, whether directed towards others or ourselves, can initiate a cascade of miscommunication, hindering the cultivation of empathy, genuine understanding, and meaningful connections. This inability to listen attentively often goes unnoticed, yet its effects can be profound. In a world where everyone is eager to speak and be heard, the lost art of genuine listening has become increasingly rare.

When we fail to truly listen, we miss out on the nuances of communication, which are often more important than the words themselves. We miss the opportunity to truly understand the perspectives, emotions, and the experiences of others, usually paving the way for conflict, creating barriers between individuals and within communities.

On the other hand, the act of authentic listening can foster empathy, trust, and a deep sense of connection. It allows us to grasp the underlying emotions and intentions behind the words, leading to meaningful and fulfilling interactions. In an age where technology has made communication faster and more convenient, the value of genuine, attentive listening cannot be overstated.

In cultivating the skill of listening, we not only enhance our personal relationships but also contribute to the well-being of the larger community. Meaningful connections and a sense of belonging are crucial for the emotional and psychological health of individuals and communities alike.

It is crucial to recognize that the art of listening extends beyond the physical act of hearing; it encompasses the willingness to understand, empathize, and absorb the perspectives and experiences of those around us. When we neglect this vital skill, we risk perpetuating a cycle of discord, misinterpretation, and division. Therefore, nurturing the capacity to listen intently and empathetically is pivotal in fostering a more inlcusive, understanding society.

By making a conscious effort to listen with genuine interest and empathy, we can build bridges and earn the confidence, whether that of your neighbors or your audience. Moreover, developing the skill of active listening with true sincerity and understanding lays the foundation for meaningful connections and trust, where mutual respect and openness can thrive.

The ability to truly pay attention to what others say is a skill that can greatly enrich personal relationships. It demonstrates respect, empathy, and a willingness to understand and connect with others on a deeper level. This quality is not only important in personal relationships, though. It also plays a crucial role in the relationship between an artist and their audience.

For an artist, being able to connect with their audience is a sine qua non quality, an essential element that can make or break their success. When an artist is able to engage with their audience in a way that resonates with both parties, it creates a powerful and meaningful connection that elevates the performance and the experience of the audience.

The act of truly listening – to your inner voice, to the stories and emotions that surround you, to the experiences of others – can profoundly enrich your creative expression and it is a powerful tool for every artist. Deep listening allows you to absorb the nuances and complexities of the world, infusing your art with authenticity and depth.

Genuinely responding to your artistic endeavors means staying true to your vision and expressing it in a way that resonates with your audience. it can be a transformative factor in both your personal relationships and your artistic journey.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

This is the eigth part of a series of articles on the relationship between jazz and comic books. Go to Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 or Part 7.

The present segment of this series of articles on Comics and Jazz proposes a comparative reflection on how comics and jazz went from being marginalized forms of expression to becoming items of interest to collectors.

The changing of jazz from its humble origins to a cultural phenomenon associated with sophistication and elegance is a testament to the complex dynamics of cultural appropriation and reinterpretation. In the early 20th century, jazz was gaining popularity and recognition as a distinct musical genre.

Originating in the African-American communities of New Orleans, jazz drew upon diverse musical influences, including African rhythms, blues, and ragtime. Its infectious rhythms and improvisational nature quickly captured the hearts of music enthusiasts around the world, propelling it into the mainstream.

Jazz became synonymous with freedom of expression and individuality, reflecting the cultural and social changes of the time. The lively syncopated rhythms and soulful melodies not only entertained but also challenged traditional musical conventions, paving the way for experimentation and innovation in the arts.

As jazz diversified, it gave birth to various subgenres, from swing and bebop to fusion and Latin jazz, demonstrating its versatility and adaptability across different cultural and geographical contexts. Its cultural significance also grew, attracting the attention of music enthusiasts. Over time, the historical value and artistic merit of jazz recordings, memorabilia and artifacts continue to captivate aficionados.

The trajectory of jazz bears a striking resemblance to the journey of the comic art, often referred to as the Ninth Art. In their early days, comic books faced significant challenges in being taken seriously as a form of artistic and literary expression. They were often dismissed as mere entertainment for children and adolescents, lacking the depth and complexity attributed to traditional forms of literature and art.

A notorious case of persecution of comics was that of the so-called Comics Code, a pivotal moment in the history of comic book censorship and regulation.

The Comics Code Authority (CCA) was established in 1954 as a direct response to the growing unease surrounding the content portrayed in comic books during that time. A series of Senate hearings and the release of the book, “Seduction of the Innocent” by psychiatrist Fredric Wertham sparked a moral panic and heightened concerns about the potential negative impact of comic books on readers, particularly the youth.

These events culminated in the implementation of the Comics Code Authority, which aimed to regulate and censor the content of comic books to ensure compliance with specified standards. This self-regulatory body was created by the Comics Magazine Association of America and aimed to give guidance to publishers about the content of comic books.

The CCA established a set of stringent guidelines that prohibited the portrayal of graphic violence, gore, and overtly sexual content in comic books. Publishers were required to submit their work to the CCA for approval, and only those publications that adhered to the guidelines were allowed to display the CCA “seal of approval” on their covers.

Many retailers would only stock comic books that bore the CCA seal. This meant that publishers had to comply with their regulations in order to have their products reach a wide audience. However, over time, the CCA faced criticism for being overly restrictive and stifling creativity in the comic book industry. This led to a decline and by the early 2000s, most major publishers had abandoned the CCA seal in favor of their own rating systems or no ratings at all, as the perception of comic books began to shift.

A key factor that contributed to the recognition of comic books as a legitimate art form was the emergence of critical and academic discourse that analyzed and celebrated the medium. Scholars and cultural critics delved into the thematic, aesthetic, and sociocultural dimensions of the comic art, exploring their ability to address complex issues, convey poignant narratives, and provide profound social commentary.

Furthermore, universities and educational institutions began incorporating comic studies into their curricula, offering courses that examined the history, theory, and cultural significance of this unique form of visual storytelling. This shift not only validated the artistic and literary merits of comic books but also fostered a new generation of creators and scholars.

The shift of comic books and jazz from marginalized forms of expression into products that are symbols of consumption and status unfolds as a complex interplay of cultural influences and the ever-evolving dynamics of the cultural industry. It also provides valuable insights into the changing aspects of status symbols and how the value of a product is the result of a social construction. Furthermore, it prompts critical examinations of the forces at play in the commodification of art in contemporary society.

Be seeing you!

G. F.

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.

Once, an ex tried to convince me to go back together with him in a quite, let us say, original way. He said that he really wanted to wake up next to a singer because, according to him, we get up singing. Did it work? No way! I remained irreducible. And you do not need to feel sorry for him, okay? The guy was a jerk. What kind? A “I-do-not-like-you-traveling-alone-to-conferences” kind of jerk. Nevertheless, he had a point.

I always thought this was something everyone did on a normal basis. It never occurred to me that entering the day singingit was a privilege, let alone a specific characteristic of singers. I wonder if my many birthday rituals also count as, let us say singer’s follies.

The thing with my b-day superticious is that they are quite flexible, but they usually include changing the bed linen, bringing the garbage out, followed by a nice shower or bath, finalizing with a glass of Champagne by midnight. They may or may not include posting a story on a social network (sign of the times) or some sort of self-care routine, such as a facial moisturing mask.

Silly? Sure it is silly, but it helps me somehow, not only to leave the previous solar year and all the stuff I do not need anymore behind, but also getting ready for the new cycle to come. To be honest, I think my rituals are charming, say what you will.

You know what? I am sure you have your rituals too, if not for your birthday, at least for some special dates, such as New Year´s Eve. Am I right?

Here in Brazil there are many rituals for the last last of the year: we dress in white, eat lentils and grapes (seven grapes, to be more specific) and there is a complete chapter on how the colour of your underwear will influence your life in the coming year (yellow for money, red for love, green for health, so on and so forth, and another one for the beach-related rituals suposed to bring you good luck.

My guess is that we follow rituals for a variety of reasons, including the fleeting feeling of power over a destiny we do not control. Whatever your ritual to start another year might be, I wish you face the inevitable coming challenges with courage, because often that is all life asks of us.

Happy New Year and, as Annie Lennox sings in Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This):

Be seeing you!

G.F.

Every year I go out to buy material to wrap Christmas presents: paper, bags, ribbons. I return home, open the drawer where the remains of what I bought the previous year are, and only then I remember that there were enough leftovers.

In a sort of déjà vu experience, I also remember that last year I had promised myself to check that drawer before buying anything. And the year before that. Some people call it the magic of Christmas. I believe the technical name is Christmas amnesia.

I know that reactions to the end of the year and the holiday season are diverse: some people love it, some people hate it, but the real difficult thing is to remain indifferent to all the turmoil around us. Ever tried? I try every year and fail. Miserably.

The commitments seem to multiply, and they may turn into a source of anxiety and stress, but sometimes they hold a truly “Christmas spirit”. This year, one of them brought me immense joy. My mother had insisted on having a pre-Christmas gathering at her house, so that she could show off the Christmas home decorations created by my sister. Despite the heat wave, it was a very pleasant afternoon.

Among the many subjects discussed and left along the way, one story stood out: we talked about the period of the military dictatorship in Brazil (1964-1984), a dark period that we have not yet overcome. At this point, my mother said that my father, at the time a high-ranking state civil servant, was given the task of denouncing possible opponents to the regime.

There was no way out: if he refused, he would himself be considered an opponent of the system (which at the time meant possible arrest, imprisonment, torture and death or, at best, exile); if he accepted, he would be forced to inform on colleagues. How to get out of this moral impasse?

With pride, my mother recounted the ingenious solution found by my father: in all cases he wrote after the nema of the employee: “to date, nothing has been found to be discreditable about this person”. The task was accomplished and, at the same time, no one was denounced. Including the term “to date” also saved him in case of any future problems.

My father died when I was nine years old, after a two-year long period of degenerative illness. As you can imagine, I did not have much time to hear his stories in person, but knowing that he was an unlikely hero in a period of terror was a great emotion. In fact, it was like being able to hug him again.

I know this is often the season of hoping for the future and exchanging presents, but sometimes the best gift is in the past. Feliz Natal!

Be seeing you!

G.F.