I’ve been contemplating the arrogance and ignorance required to create a piece of criticism that dismisses an entire art form, as Justin Moyer, the Washington Post writer, did recently. I read his piece with anger, naturally. But it occurs to me that this is the sort of thing jazz musicians do all the time. Here are some commonly held beliefs among jazz musicians: White players aren’t as good as black players. If it doesn’t swing, it’s bullshit. Classical musicians aren’t creative. Pop music isn’t real art. Hip hop is all about macho swagger and violence. Country music is racist, ignorant whining. Broadway is sugary shit for soccer moms. There’s an underlying assumption of superiority in this kind of thinking, whether it’s coming from musicians or writers or anyone else. There’s an ego built into it, a dismissal of the efforts of others, a fundamental disrespect for what the rest of humanity may create or love. I’m not suggesting that we shouldn’t search for quality or take sides or choose this over that. But what if we began our search or fought our battles over art from the assumption that if thousands have labored in its trenches for decades to create it, and millions of people around the world love it, there’s probably something to it? What if we wanted to experience what they experienced, instead of dismissing it outright? Imagine if we took that approach to other aspects of living. What if we applied it to television, to literature, to food? To politics? To religion? What if we started with an effort to treat others as we wish to be treated, began by respecting others—their work, their art, their opinions, their beliefs—as we wish to be respected? What if we loved one another? Not too likely, I know. But its a question thats been on my mind lately.
Posted on: Mon, 11 Aug 2014 16:46:16 +0000
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