Monday, February 21, 2011

Ken Burns' Jazz (2000)

Have recently "worked" through this gargantuan 10-part documentary on the history of Jazz by the maker of The Civil War. Weighing in at 20 hours (10 x 2 hour episodes), it certainly is an epic undertaking (watching it, I mean). And given that a lot of the visuals are black and white photos brought to life with extensive use of the "Ken Burns effect", the time doesn't exactly fly. Still, for anyone cultivating an interest in jazz music, it's definitely worth watching.

The series traces the history of jazz in a more-or-less chronological fashion, starting in New Orleans with the "proto" jazz music that emerged out of that city's rich and fraught cultural melting pot during the 1910s and 20s: the likes of Jelly Roll Morton, Sidney Bechet, and of course Louis Armstrong. It then moves on to swing era of the 1930s, and the big bands Duke Ellington, Benny Goodman, Count Basie, and Chick Webb.

Up to this point, the pace was agonizingly slow: the swing era may have lasted for 10 years or so, but in this series it comes out feeling like a century. It's only in episode six that we hit the post-World War II bebop era, ushered in by sax player Charlie Parker. At that point it's like someone has cracked the whip as the pace steps up dramatically. Almost in a blur, the show progresses through the 1950s and 60s, covering bebop and the derivative genres that emerged subsequently (cool, hard bop). The big names come thick and fast: Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis ("the difficult son of a dentist from East Louis Illinois"), John Coltrane, Sonny Rollins, Herbie Hancock, among others.

The final episode neatly showcases the best and worst aspects of the series. On the one hand, there is a poignant treatment of the final years and passing (in the early 70s) of two of the all-time greats, Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington, which neatly ties together a narrative thread that had run throughout most of the series. (Although these two characters were introduced very early on in proceedings, the show returns to them periodically, showing what they were doing while the landscape of jazz was changing around them. There was a classic bit of footage of Louis Armstrong on stage during the 50s, appearing to mock the bebop generation with "their flatted fifths and funny hats".)

On the other hand, we get a rushed and somewhat withering treatment of the whole avant garde/free jazz movement (Ornette Coleman, Cecil Taylor), and only the merest glimpse of jazz-rock fusion (Miles Davis' "Bitches Brew"). Then, according to the narrator, jazz "went away for a while" during the 1970s and was only saved by the heroic efforts of virtuoso trumpeter and outspoken jazz traditionalist Wynton Marsalis. It turns out Marsalis is a controversional figure who has been heavily criticized for his dismissive attitude to post-1965 jazz; he also happened to be a senior consultant to the series (and frequent on-screen commentator). The latter may go some way to explaining the skewed portrayal in the last episode: we get the impression that nothing much "new" happened since the 1960s, when in fact jazz went off in a variety of interesting directions. What about fusion: Weather Report, The Mahavishnu Orchestra, Return To Forever, for Christ's sake? I'm no jazz expert, but to exclude this music, and not even to mention great names like John Mclaughlin and Chick Corea, seems misguided at best. I was also peeved that, when one commentator listed the genres that sprung out of Jazz, he omitted to mention "jazz funk"!

Nevertheless, flaws aside, Ken Burn's Jazz is an interesting and educational watch. Just make sure you have a comfortable chair.


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