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This is the ninth 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, Part 7 or Part 8

In this segment we will focus on two works, which illustrate the intrinsic relationship between comic books and jazz. The first one is the groundbreaking album The Epic (2015), by Kamasi Washington, jazz saxophonist, composer, and bandleader. He gained widespread acclaim for his contributions to the album To Pimp a Butterfly by Kendrick Lamar (2015).

The Epic solidified the reputation of Washington as a leading figure in contemporary jaz, known for revitalizing the interest in jazz among younger audiences with his ambitious, expansive compositions. The vinyl edition of the album is truly a captivating experience, designed to immerse the listener in an adventure that unfolds across multiple discs.

Each of the LPs represent a new chapter in the musical journey, accompanied by striking black and white photography that beautifully captures the essence of the Afrocentric free jazz aesthetic embodied by influential labels such as Tribe, Strata, and Black Jazz. This approach not only elevates the auditory experience but also adds a visual dimension to the storytelling woven into the music.

The Epic box set also included an graphic novel-inspired collection of images, exploring the conceptual narrative that underpins the compositions, offering enthusiasts a deeper understanding of the creative vision behind the album.

And The Epic continues to resonate. In recent years, Washington has been working on a graphic novel: “I had a dream [with] a story that encompassed all the songs [on The Epic], which really led me to have the conviction that I was really going to put it out. So I’m creating a graphic novel for that.”

The second graphic novel we would like to highlight is Instrumental (2017), by Dave Chisholm, a tale about the transformative power of music, weaving together themes of passion, struggle, and artistic expression.

The graphic novel “Instrumental” by Dave Chisholm offers a compelling journey into the emotional and creative depths of its characters. Chisholm, recognized as an acclaimed jazz musician, skillfully shines a spotlight on the intricate and profound experiences encountered by the characters within the narrative. Described as a high-spirited, suspenseful, formally inventive, and visually musical masterpiece, “Instrumental” delivers an epic yet intimate exploration of our relentless longing and search for what lies ahead.

The graphic novel intricately weaves together elements of music, storytelling, and artistry to create a truly immersive and captivating reading experience. It includes a download of an original jazz soundtrack, composed and performed by the author Dave Chisholm. As readers delve into the pages of this remarkable work, they are treated to a fusion of visual art and musical composition that enhances and enriches the narrative, resulting in a multidimensional journey.

The inclusion of the original jazz soundtrack not only adds an auditory layer to the reading experience but also serves as a testament of the multifaceted talent of Chisholm. As with the work of Washington, the innovative approach underscores the interconnectedness of commic ast and jazz, offering a one-of-a-kind opportunity to engage with narratives that transcends traditional boundaries.

Both works invite the readers/listeners to experience the power of storytelling through a harmonious convergence of music and visual art.

Be seeing you!

G.F

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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.

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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 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.

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In the fourth segment of our series of articles on the relationship between jazz and comic books we will discuss the visual design of the genre.Go to Part 1 , Part 2 or Part 3.

Columbia Records was one of the pioneers in creating designs for LP covers and part of its history has Alex Steinweiss as the main character. In the late 1930s, at the age of twenty-two, Steinweiss changed the status of vinyl (until then packaged in cheap paper) by introducing a novelty that would change the world of the music industry: designed covers.

Over three decades Steinweiss developed a style of cover design that remained in dialogue with the viewer. The new media available created a high demand for illustrators, who were often also jazz musicians.

Initially, the inspiration for the album covers came from the European posters from the 1930s. Art-déco was spreading throughout Paris and the work of artists such as A.M. Cassandre, Jean Carlu and Paul Colin brought international attention to modernist art.

Jean-Marie Mouron, better known as A.M. Cassandre was born in Ukraine in 1901, but he moved to France at a young age with his family. Inspired by Cubism and Surrealism, in the 1950s he produced album covers, although his most famous works are posters produced in the 1930s -1940s, as well as the famous logo for the brand of French acclaimed couturier Yves Saint Laurent.

Influenced by Italian futurism, Jean Carlu produced advertising pieces for the label Odéon and Paul Colin signed the poster for “Black Ball” (1927), a performance of his long time friend Josephine Baker.

The poster fashion and art-déco inspiration was later followed by the incorporation of abstract art elements on album covers, with a special appeal for minimalist paintings. An example of how jazz and visual arts interact is the work of the previously mentioned Dutch painter Piet Mondrian (1872-1944) and his canvases structured around a base with sections filled with primary colors and separated by black lines.

Mondrian regularly cited jazz in his articles and personal correspondence, making no secret of the influence influence of the genre on his art and in his life. Broadway Boogie Woogie (1943) is an example of this direct influence.

Celebrated designer Paula Scher called it an “abstract portrait of Manhattan”. Considered by many to be a masterpiece, the canvas not only pictorially represents formal characteristics of boogie woogie (such as the repetition of bass lines), but it also expresses the seduction of the painter by the lights and sounds of New York.

The work of Mondrian continued to inspire the art of albums over the decades, such as the album Byrd Jazz (1956), by Donald Bird, an instrumental version of the Beatles songs by Roger Webb (John, Paul and All That Jazz, 1964), or a collection João Gilberto, Sylvia Telles & Dick Farney, released in 1988 by EMI..

Jim Flora is also a prominent name when it comes to the construction of a language that became typical of jazz at the time. Record collectors easily recognize his style, directly influenced by the comic art. He worked for Columbia in the 1940s and later pursued a career at RCA Victor.

His illustrations were not urban vignettes and did not necessarily reflect the content of the album. Flora stated that he was not woried about making her designs for the covers complement the music of the album. understanding the cover as a place to show his art (“I always thought that the musicians had already done their part and now it was my turn”, he said in a 1984 interview).

A good example of how Flora manages to escape from the commonplace and still convey an overall idea to the illustration is his work for the cover of the album The Panic is On (RCA Victor, 1954), by the Nick Travis Quintet. The dreamlike atmosphere ( the musicians float in the air) and the complete freedom in relation to proportions and perspectives bring lightness to the composition, as opposed to the “panic” reference in the title, in a typical effect of a Flora cover nothing is exactly as it seems and everything makes sense.

The small revolution brought to the music industry by Steiweiss continuesdto be impactful and engaged with issues such as racism, as in the openly political message on the cover of Boogie Woogie, a collection released in 1941, at a time when racial segregation was institutionalized.

It is no coincidence that the Columbia label was an obligatory passage for cover illustrators. In the mid-1950s, the label it was one of the homes of jazz. Its artists made the genre both popular and avant-garde, crossing borders (we will see later how the paths of jazz and samba crossed) with their experimentations.

Alex Steinweiss left Columbia in the early 1950s, but he continued to be much in demand as an album cover designer, especially for classic music. He worked during the 1950s for labels such as Decca, London and Everest. Later, he concentrated on graphics for posters, magazine covers and packaging design.

With the hiring of S. Neil Fujita, Columbia hoped to keep up with the graphic designs and illustrations released by Blue Note Records. Based on the work of former art director Alex Steinweiss, Fujita was challenged to transform the album art, adapting it to the modernist sounds that Columbia presented.

After assuming artistic direction in 1954, he decided to interpret and transmit the same vigor, abstraction, improvisation and freedom as the jazz artists. At Columbia, Fujita became one of the first graphic designers to employ both men and women in a racially integrated office. He also became the first designer to use painters and photographers to produce album covers.

Many of the original pieces of art that Fujita created as album covers for Columbia include albums that are today considered true masterpieces of 20th century jazz.

Tom Hannan is a prominent character in the visual construction of jazz, as well. He was the designer responsible for the cover art of several jazz labels, especially Prestige and Bethlehem Records, but before turning to the visual arts, Hannanhad actually attempted a career as a drummer.

His designs mix abstract images with unusual typography, translating the aura of improvisation, so typical of jazz. It is interesting to note how his work for the album “The Jazz Experiments of Charlie Mingus” (Bethlehem Records, 1956), which dialogues directly with the collages from the series “Jazz” (1947), by French painter Henri Matisse.

As Tom Hannan, Paul Bacon was also a passionate jazz musician. He is also a name to remember when thinking about the construction of the visual identity of jazz. Bacon was for a long time the main designer of the Blue Note. Most of the covers designed for the first albums of the label, the 7000 series, were his creations. Later, he became the main art director of the company.

Be seeing you!

G.F.