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This is the sixth part of a series of articles on the relationship between jazz and comic books. Go to Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 or Part 05

Comics and jazz were considered marginal forms of expression for a long time. However, they reached the 21st century with the status of artistic languages and are a recurring subject of academic theses and dissertations. Despite the different points of intersection between comics and jazz, to what extent has academic recognition caused a distance between the popular origins of these languages and the transformation of an audience of readers and listeners into collectors?

The recognition of comics and jazz as artistic languages by the academic community has undeniably elevated their status and led to a deeper exploration of their cultural and historical significance. As these art forms have become the subjects of scholarly research and academic discourse, the focus has shifted towards understanding their intricate connections with society, history, and other forms of art. However, this academic recognition has also raised important questions about the potential distance it may have created between the popular origins of comics and jazz and the transformation of their respective audiences into collectors.

On the other hand, the academic recognition of comics and jazz has indeed prompted a transformation in the dynamics of their audiences. While the popular origins of these art forms were deeply rooted in mass appeal and accessibility, their academic validation has led to a reconfiguration of their audiences. The transition from casual readers and listeners to discerning collectors has been influenced by the scholarly emphasis on the artistic, cultural, and historical significance of comics and jazz.

This shift has created a nuanced layer of appreciation among the audienced of comic art and jazz, with a growing focus on preserving and owning significant works within these art forms, altering the dynamics between creators, audiences, and collectors.

So that we can better understand what is at stake in this debate, let us first turn to the concept of cultural industry, a term coined by Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer. In his 1968 article, Adorno states that the cultural industry (…) forces the union of the domains, separated for millennia, of superior art and inferior art. To the detriment of both*

This thought-provoking statement encourages us to critically examine the implications of such amalgamation, as it raises pertinent questions about the intrinsic value and purpose of art in the modern cultural sphere.

The distinction between high and low culture has been a recurring topic in discussions within the field of Cultural Studies. Raymond Williams, a prominent British popular culture critic, addressed this dichotomy, noting that the so called “high culture” tends to remain largely unchanged over time (an concrete example of this phenomenon can be observed in the realm of classical music), while popular culture plays a pivotal role in facilitating the flow of information among diverse social groups, thereby engendering the emergence of novel and dynamic cultural expressions.

The word “flow” in jazz resonates with the interconnectedness of the melodic, harmonic, and rhythmic elements, contributing to the seamless and cohesive expression of the art form, but “flow” is a fitting descriptor for the organic development of the music, as well. It aptly captures the essence of a musical movement that is essentially born in motion and displacement. This fluidity is fundamental to the improvisational nature of jazz, where musicians dynamically interact and respond to each other, creating an ever-evolving musical narrative.

Applied to comic books, “flow” is a very useful concept for understanding the integration between visual narrative and the progression of the script and highlights the intricate fusion of visual and narrative elements. It is also crucial for the reader to semiotically fill the space between frames, completing the comic narative, but the aspect of flow we would like to highlight is related to the black diaspora and its influence on both forms of expression: comics and jazz.

Flow, in this context, has to do with a dynamic exchange of cultural, artistic and linguistic elements.

The fusion of African and European musical traditions resulted in several music genres that would become identity marks, such as during the formation of choro and samba in Brazil and Argentine tango, in the 19th century (as we will see in the last segment of this series of articles) and jazz in the 20th century USA.

Likewise, the influence of the black diaspora can be seen in comic books, both from a consumption point of view, given the fact that black audiences have been prominent consumers of comic books since the 1940s, as well as when it comes to the representation of the characters. In fact, the history of the representation of black characters in comic books would be a good summary of the history of racism itself.

Since the 1990s, the black diaspora has been given new meaning in the visual arts through Afrofuturism, which presents offers a way out of the marginalization imposed by European canons. However, with regard to the representation of the biographies of jazz stars in comics, in particular, the model that usually prevails is still far from ideal, and if it manages to go beyond the dehumanization of the past, it stil reaffirms tereotypes, reinforces victimization and the cult of marginalization.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

* “Résumé über Kulturindustrie” in Theodor W. Adorno, Ohne Leitbild: Parva Aesthetica. Frankfurt am Main, Sührkamp Verlag 1968, p.60-70.

** A Vocabulary of Culture and Society. Raymond Williams. New York. Oxford University Press. 1976

p.s. before you go, check this one version of the jazz tree. Beautiful, isn´t it?

THE LEGACY OF BLACK ANCESTRY: THE JAZZ TREE

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This is the second part of a series on the relationship between jazz and comic books. Would you like to start at the beginning? Go to Part 1

American multimedia artist Gil Mayer, on his series of paintings called Jazz:

“I am trying to make it visually stimulating and aurally interesting. I like people to see my work and hear music. It is a testament to my creativity and my interest in this medium“

The spontaneous nature of jazz is often mentioned by musicians and listeners, but it was not always unanimous among its theorists. Among those who saw improvisation as a negative point is the philosopher Theodor Wiesengrund Adorno, one of the most voracious critics of the genre.

Between 1933 and 1953, Adorno published several articles distilling the purest hatred against jazz, even imagining connections between the genre and Nazism (!) (due to its supposed birth in military bands) and decreeing its end. Although Adorno, himself, backed down on several points, there is no denying that the philosopher, usually brilliant in his analyses, found in jazz a theoretical challenge, which he was unable to overcome.

The mistaken predictions of Adorno about jazz deserves to be highlighted in any list of basic analytical errors, starting with his rigid premises, completely inappropriate for his object (the disregard of the author for improvisation stands out).

When talking about jazz, Adorno sounds like an (excellent) pianist playing with boxing gloves: he hits the right one eventually, here and there, but, overall, the action produces a rather unpleasant result.

As a deep admirer of the Frankfurt School in general and, particularly a fan of Adorno, to the point of giving his name to one of my songs, I consider his articles on jazz as minor material in his production, with which, in fact, we will dialogue in different moments of our reflections, such as the famous concept of “cultural industry”, among others.

That said, let us move on to perhaps the first partnership between jazz and the visual arts, the partnership between Stravinsky and Picasso.

First of all, a few words on Ragtime, the genre:

Scott Joplin is one of the main exponents of ragtime, a genre that incorporates African and European syncopation. It should be noted that, like classical music, classical ragtime was based on a written tradition, being distributed in sheet music. Keep this information in mind, as it will be very useful when we talk about the importance of improvisation in jazz.

Stravinsky comes into contact with some of these transcriptions of ragtime music brought from the United States by his friend, conductor Ernest Ansermet in the late 1910s.

Later, in 1918, Stravinsky released “Ragtime”, a work composed for a small orchestra of strings, winds, brass and percussion, which cover ilustration was signed by Picasso, a friend of the maestro.

The work is doubly a reading of the Russian composer, both in the sense that Stravinsky knew ragtime written but not played, and in the sense the version of Stravinsky for ragtime incorporates elements of Russian modernity. For critic Lawrence Budmen, “Ragtime for 11 instruments” represents the uniquely personal take of Stravinsky on the new genre coming from the United States: “At once witty, dissonant and hard-driving, the work might be considered “ragtime with a modern Russian accent.”

The fact that Picasso illustrated the cover of the composition only reinforces the ties between jazz and the modernist avant-garde, which identified with the genre precisely because of its free character. Like Stravinsky, Picasso recognized jazz as a new field of artistic experimentation.

Almost a decade later, in 1927, Dutch painter Piet Mondrian made the relationship between the visual arts and jazz even more explicit in “Jazz and Neo-Plasticism”. As mentioned in part 1, in this series of articles, Mondrian argued that jazz and the then-new visual arts movement represented nothing less than movements. revolutionaries capable of dealing with the impositions of the new use of time and space brought by metropolises.

And the plot was just starting to thicken.

Be seeing yuo!

G.F.