These Words Perfectly Accompany the Music

The concept of jazz in print almost seems like an oxymoron. Can the printed word ever capture the magical combination of spontaneity, imagination and sheer rhythmic swing that is at the heart of the jazz experience?

The answer--despite the efforts some writers have made to illuminate the jazz experience via the use of colorful metaphors and images--is, with a few rare exceptions, “no.” Most of the jazz illumination that has taken place, beyond the music itself, has been in the non-metaphoric observations of knowledgeable observers. But some of it has been very good, and with the holiday season upon us, it’s worth noting a few of the new jazz books that have arrived recently.

Schirmer Books’ Companion Series has released three attractive new collections: “The John Coltrane Companion: Four Decades of Commentary,” “The Ella Fitzgerald Companion: Seven Decades of Commentary” and “The Charlie Parker Companion: Six Decades of Commentary.” The series’ format gathers interviews and articles about each of the subjects, including essays by each of the editors--Carl Woideck for the Coltrane and Parker books, Leslie Gourse for the Fitzgerald.

Much of the material verges close to fan magazine writing; some provide genuine musical insights. But the most intriguing are the interview segments, especially a fascinating conversation between Paul Desmond and Parker and a first-person statement from Coltrane (transcribed by Don DeMichael).

Gary Giddins has long been regarded as one of the jazz world’s most astute observers. His “Visions of Jazz: The First Century” (Oxford University Press) is a massive attempt to encompass the music from its earliest beginnings. More than that, it reaches out to examine the creative threads that always have moved in and out of jazz via chapters on vaudevillians Bert Williams and Al Jolson, and singers Ethel Waters and Frank Sinatra.

For the most part, however, this is a book about the principals--virtually every one, from Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton to Parker, Coltrane and Miles Davis, with all stops in between. Drawn and expanded upon from Giddins’ “Weather Bird” column in the Village Voice, the essays are superbly written, manifest examples of the manner in which the best writing about jazz combines historical perspective, social insights and musical understanding. (Blue Note Records has released an excellent two-CD collection with the same title, gathered by Giddins to illustrate the various segments of his book.)

The explosive jazz interactions that began in the late ‘60s are the subject of “Jazz-Rock: A History” (Schirmer Books) by Stuart Nicholson. Viewed with some disdain by the established jazz community, the results that emerged from the collective musical curiosity of artists such as Jimi Hendrix, Gil Evans, Davis, Cream, Santana, Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea and dozens of others nonetheless had a powerful effect upon the jazz of the past three decades. Nicholson’s well-written, carefully detailed book is the first thorough overview of the genesis, as well as the fragmented maturity, of this unusual jazz hybrid.

“Keeping Time: Readings in Jazz History” (Oxford University Press), edited by Robert Walser, takes a decade-by-decade approach to jazz writings, starting with a fascinating discussion of jazz published in the New York Sun in 1917, titled “Whence Comes Jass?” And the collection is at its best in similarly early writings (“Does Jazz Put the Sin in Syncopation?” from the 1921 Ladies Home Journal). Once into the ‘50s, ‘60s and beyond, however, the quality of the essays becomes divergent, too often concentrating upon social issues, too rarely dealing directly with the music.

It’s not a particularly politically correct subject, but the question of the importance of contributions from white jazz musicians--an art that clearly has been dominated by African Americans--has always been a kind of sub rosa topic. In “Lost Chords: White Musicians and Their Contributions to Jazz, 1915-1945” (Oxford University Press), however, writer and musician Richard Sudhalter takes the problem on without reservations.

He underlines his belief that the music should be viewed as a multicultural expression with detailed descriptions of the work of figures such as Bix Beiderbecke, Benny Goodman, Red Norvo, Jack Teagarden, Artie Shaw, Bunny Berigan and dozens of others. Carefully crafted, musically concise, Sudhalter’s argument makes a convincing case, not in any way to diminish the importance of the primary role of African American musicians, but as an effort to expand the perception of the music’s reach.

The third edition of “All Music Guide to Jazz” (Miller Freeman Books) was released earlier this year. And, despite an occasional omission and a few errors, it remains one of the most useful reference guides. Incorporating much of the biographical information found in Grove’s now-aging Dictionary of Jazz, the “All Music Guide” also includes reviews of more than 18,000 recordings, and serves as a valuable guide for both the jazz fan and the professional jazz observer.

Finally, and somewhat countering the above contention that the jazz experience is almost impossible to capture in words, there is “The Bear Comes Home” (Norton) by former drummer and jazz critic Rafi Zabor. It is, first of all, a darkly humorous novel about a bear who speaks, quotes Persian poetry and plays world-class jazz alto saxophone. That alone would seem to make for an absorbing read. But, in addition, and of special interest to jazz listeners, Zabor has written a number of scenes that include penetratingly accurate descriptions of the process of improvising jazz. Reading “The Bear Comes Home” may not be quite as good as hearing the music alone, but approached in combination with, say, a John Coltrane or Charlie Parker album playing in the background, it makes for a first-rate jazz experience.