Albert Murray
When Albert Murray arrived at Tuskeegee Institute in 1935, Ralph Ellison
was an upperclassman who was, in Murray's words, "dressed like a 'Joe College'
right out of Esquire Magazine." According to Murray, Ellison "represented
the type of aspirations that I had been expecting for myself."
While their paths split geographically, the two kindled an emotional and
intellectual friendship that gained momentum during the era of Ellison's
creative peak, when his timeless novel of identity Invisible Man was
being written, distributed, reviewed, and rewards reaped upon. They honored
successes, encouraged intellectual growth, and shared a deep love of music.
They were best friends.
Now 85, Murray remains active as a director of Jazz at Lincoln Center, and
as a cultural critic, biographer, essayist, and novelist. His work includes
The Omni-Americans, South to a Very Old Place, Train Whistle Guitar, The
Blue Devils of Nada, The Seven League Boots and the American masterpiece,
Stomping the Blues. A recent publication of correspondence between
Ellison and Murray, Trading Twelves: The Selected Letters of Ralph Ellison
and Albert Murray, exhibits their special friendship.
In our exclusive interview, Murray focuses on his relationship with Ellison,
talks of their collective literary mentors, their view of bebop and the arts,
and his take on "Ken Burns' Jazz."
______________________________________________________
A Sampling of Interview Topics
Albert Murray's background
Meeting Ralph Ellison
Ellison after "Invisible Man"
Writers held in esteem
"Stomping the blues"
Jazz as a
definitive aesthetic form of American life
Ellison and bebop
Jazz as an enduring art form
Murray on "Juneteenth"
Memorable jazz experiences
On "Ken Burns' Jazz"
______________________________________________________
Albert
Murray's Background
JJM What is your background?
AM I was born in Alabama, in 1916. We moved to
the outskirts of Mobile because of the war boom. The people in Mobile were
still in transition from slavery. With the war boom and various industries
that supported ship building in Mobile, people moved off the farms and into
the city of Mobile. All my schooling, until the 12th grade, was in Mobile.
JJM You went to college at Tuskeegee Institute
AM Yes, Tuskeegee. The high school that I went
to was a training school, really a prep school, and the principal really
encouraged us to go to college and get as much education as possible. He
believed that any child showing promise should be encouraged - even pressured
- to go to college.
JJM Who was your childhood hero?
AM I have written about that. In the novel Train
Whistle Guitar, there were various people I wrote about. There
was a piano player, a guitar player who seemed like a legend to me, and there
was the great Satchel Paige, who lived on the outskirts of Mobile. Baseball
was a big thing there, and he was the greatest baseball player in the world.
In school, in the third grade, I started studying geography, and was encouraged
by the teacher to look upon school as a way to open up my world. That was
the start of me becoming what I have become.
JJM Is there a book that you read as a child that
was particularly influential in your life that made you want to become a
writer?
AM I didn't realize I wanted to become a writer
until I was in college. I was an all-around student, interested in drama
and very much into athletics and language. I was good in Latin and French,
also. By the time I was in high school they started grooming me for college.
We didn't have any money or anything, but the whole thing about that school
was to find the talented kids and encourage them to provide leadership and
become outstanding citizens. At this time, Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington,
people of this level, were making their first national splashes. I was trying
to learn to come to terms with all of that and how I fit into being an American.
Meeting Ralph
Ellison
JJM How did you and Ralph Ellison meet?
AM He was two years ahead of me in college. I
was a very serious college student, on a scholarship. I had no money. He
was only a junior. I was looking at other people who were going to college
and was looking for older people, upper-classmen, who represented the type
of aspirations that I had been expecting for myself. Ralph impressed me.
He dressed well, and we were all influenced by a new magazine at the time,
Esquire, which was very cosmopolitan. College was romanticized in
the movies in those days, the 1930's, and he was dressed like a "Joe College"
right out of Esquire Magazine. He was a good student and was majoring
in music. He was also taking courses in Literature, particularly any
course that was being conducted by the head of the English department, who
was also my freshman English teacher, because the highest ranking freshman
students got the attention of the head of the department. So, I became aware
of Ralph in an advanced course.
JJM If I have the story right, you followed him
through some of the books you were checking out of the library. You seemed
to be reading many of the same book.
AM I didn't follow him in that sense because I
didn't know him. College was pretty formal, at that time, the freshmen and
sophomores didn't know upper-classmen very well. I was aware of him, and
did see his name in the book check-out list in the back of the books that
you borrowed from the library. I had a list that I got from my English teacher,
and he had read a number of those books. I wasn't reading the books because
of Ralph, but because I was doing something that I thought was quite important.
JJM Clearly, the two of you had quite a connection,
and had much in common.
AM We had the basis for a connection, yes. He
didn't finish college
JJM When did he go to New York?
AM That would have been 1936. I went to college
in 1935, so that year I was aware of this upper classman. When I became a
sophomore, I didn't see him, because he had gone off to New York after the
end of his junior year. He didn't come back for his senior year. I was aware
of him and I did see a few things in magazines later on. He was a music major
who happened to work in the library, and this employment was part of the
terms of his scholarship. Part of him was already active in English because
he was experimenting in literature, which I can vouch for because I was very
much interested in literature and we read many of the same books. So, while
I became aware of him that way, we actually met several years later, after
I had finished college and came to New York on a visit.
Ellison
after "Invisible Man"
JJM Your lives went different paths geographically,
anyway, and my understanding is that the two of you developed and maintained
a friendship through letters, many of which are part of a collection called
Trading Twelves. The letters span the decade of the 1950's, and included
the time that both of you were exploring your creativity. Did the success
of Invisible Man change Ellison at all?
| AM He took on a lot of responsibility after
Invisible Man. Everything he said had much more significance.
People were constantly interviewing him. He had a desire to explain and develop
ideas that were assumptions underlying what he would be writing about. He
actually spelled those things out in books like Shadow and Act, and
in essays that came up because of issues that were developed from implications
in Invisible Man. |
Ralph Ellison |
JJM Did the success of Invisible Man surprise
you at all?
AM Well, it surprised both of us because, while
we thought it was a good book and a good effort, we had no idea it would
be such a big hit. It was about half-way up the best-seller list, which was
surprising because it was a very serious book. We were delighted that such
a serious book would have such an impact and such wide appeal. The whole
idea of the story is that the story's details have universal implications,
so that people can identify with it. That's why the very last thing he writes
in the book is, "Who knows but that, on the lower frequencies, I speak for
you?" He is not the only person who is invisible, everybody is invisible.
So we can take that specific, detailed, American example, and it implies
as a literary statement, that nobody sees you the way you really want to
be seen.
Writers held
in esteem
JJM There are many common interests you and Ellison
shared. One of them is that the works of Hemingway, Faulkner, Thomas Mann
and T.S. Eliot were very important to both of you. What did these writers
have in common and why did they effect the two of you so deeply?
William Faulkner |
AM Well, there were differences too. I was
much more interested in Mann than he was. He was more interested in Dostoyevsky
than I was. I was more interested in Tolstoy. He felt closer to the types
of complexity that Dostoyevsky dealt with, whereas I had an interest in dealing
with the types of complexity and mythological base that Mann dealt with.
When it came to Hemingway, there are so many things that he did that we liked
to do ourselves. In other words, he was like one of us. He liked sports,
he liked hunting, he liked fishing and that type of thing. He was interested
in the complexity of combat. As for Faulkner, I was a southerner, so was
Faulkner. He engaged in basic problems - universal human problems - that
were closer to the shared idiom of southerners. Southern weather, southern
landscape, things like that, and how you use those and weave them into
literature. To me, what Faulkner achieved, was southern idiom comparable
to what James Joyce achieved with Irish idiom. What Faulkner created was
literature, poetry, myth, ritual. He was deeply involved with basic moral
problems of all humanity, but he was dealing with it in terms of southern
issues. Hemingway's work, so far as I was concerned, was "swinging." In other
words, his work was profound as "swinging the blues," dealing with the
fundamentals of life. When you are dealing with that, you are dealing
with something as basic as myths and fairy tales. The language that he was
using was English, and he made the language "swing." Faulkner was almost
like "church language". Hemingway's language was "swinging language." It
was like it came right out of a newspaper or the radio - but it was poetic
that was based on simplicity but it was dealing with something that was very
complicated and very profound. |
JJM The quality of the writers you were influenced
by is what is so striking
AM Well, that is what we were trying to become!
"Stomping the
blues"
JJM It has been suggested that your work and Ellison's
is the literary equivalent of jazz. Ellison was quoted in an interview as
saying that his strength "comes from an eclectic group, including Louis
Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Hot Lips Page, Mark Twain..."
AM Yes, these are examples of men who made an
"aesthetic" effort. What were they trying to do? To us, they were trying
to "swing." To "swing" means to see human behavior at its best - when it
is elegant. That's what swinging is. Elegant behavior is the highest thing
that a human being can do, to do something that is not only practical, but
pretty! The blues confront the basic problems of the "nothingness of life."
It makes form out of it. The blues represent chaos and you confront the fact
that life is chaos. You have to build the form on that, and the form has
got to be beautiful.
JJM How did you handle it when you had the blues?
AM All I can tell you is what I have been doing.
JJM Listening to music is a critical and effective
way of dealing with the blues, as you say, "stomping the blues."
AM What the average American may think when they
hear "stomping the blues" is whamming it down with something like a sledgehammer
or something - but snapping your fingers, now that's stomping the
blues! The more elegantly you can respond to the blues, the more likely you
are to put them down. In other words, if you don't get sad, or if you don't
cry, if you snap your fingers at it, then that holds the blues at bay. That
is the story of the blues, "holding them at bay." A Louis Armstrong or Duke
Ellington or Charlie Parker masterpiece can hold them at bay time and time
again. Their work is indestructable and in elegant form. You play a pop tune
and it might drive the blues away temporarily, but after a few months of
playing that tune, it will give you the blues! Now, you play the opening
of Armstrong's West End Blues, it will knock out the blues every day! |
Albert Murray |
JJM Yes, the work is timeless
AM Yes, you can play it time and time again, but
a pop tune will bore the hell out of you in six months.
Jazz as a definitive aesthetic form of American life
JJM You said that jazz is not just a kind of music,
but a way of feeling and knowing, in fact you said it is the "definitive
aesthetic form of American life." Explain this please.
AM That is based on improvisation. The early settlers,
the first explorers, that is based on improvisation. They don't know what's
going to happen next, right? But they have aspiration to face the unknown,
but they adjust to it, improvise, which means you have to be alert at all
times. A contemporary example would be to turn on the television and look
at the stock market, and think about how that represents American life. Anybody
who wakes up in the morning and decides before seeing the news how he is
going to spend his money is going to lose his money in the stock market.
It's like a jazz tune, you really don't know what you are going to play until
you hear the other guys playing. Now, understand, that is a lightweight
illustration of what I mean. I don't mean to say that the stock market is
like a jazz jam session, but you see improvisation everywhere. If you went
to college to learn one thing but it did not apply to their every day problems
of existence., you learned as you went along. Jazz is improvisation,
and it synsthesized everything. There was a disposition to choreograph life.
When Africans came here, they had their own dances, and they couldn't speak
the language here, and couldn't even speak to themselves because there weren't
enough people speaking their language, so they couldn't really speak to one
another except in English. So they were the first Americans, culturally speaking.
People that came over from Europe brought a lot of things with them, for
instance, if they made cheese in the old country they would come to America
and make cheese. But when so many different people came from so many different
places, they couldn't communicate with one another, except in English.
Ellison and
bebop
JJM I have a question about music. To answer critics
who felt Louis Armstrong's stage antics embodied "Uncle Tom behavior," Ellison
makes a case that Dizzy Gillespie's stage antics or Miles Davis' performances
of indifference were also means of "selling out." He defends Armstrong further
with the viewpoint that at least Armstrong was determined to keep his music
"deeply meaningful and swinging." How did the musicians of the bebop era
feel about Ralph Ellison? Did they have any opinion about Ellison's view
of their work?
AM Not that I know of. I didn't know too many artists
who were book oriented, who had philosophical analysis of Ellison. They were
artists, involved with the technology of that particular art form. There
were stories of what they were doing, and their magnificent development,
but they didn't spend a lot time analyzing it.
JJM Did Ellison feel bebop was a threat to the
traditions and rituals of the music?
AM He was interested in the refinement and an
extension of jazz, and that was considered valid. If the music became
self-indulgent or pretentious, he would criticize it. It is the same principal
that anyone else takes if you are a serious person. If you are following
a fad, you are always going to overstate it in interest of your enthusiasm
for it.
JJM It's easy to understand that his musical heroes
came from the Lester Young era
West
End Blues
|
AM Serious musicians are like any great artist.
They find their approach to something and they develop it. Journalists, every
six or eight years, they move away from bop and they talk about "cool" or
"modal." That's "journalism." Journalists try to find something new
all the time. It's superficial. The people who are not critical, they don't
have to keep up with it. So, they live in a "state of hysteria." If you are
not sufficiently "historical" in your understanding of something, your behavior
or your responses are going to be "hysterical" because you are not coming
out of a rich enough background to make a solid judgment that might have
some endurance or duration. People at one time thought of jazz as "folk."
There are three levels of aesthetic statement: "folk" level, the "pop" level,
and the "fine arts" level, which is the highest development of a technique,
which is art that will last. Armstrong's "West End Blues" or Ellington's
"Cottontail "
or
"Ornithology"
from Charlie Parker or some pieces from Miles Davis are on a "fine arts"
level. |
JJM I think we are both in agreement that whether
it be "West End Blues" or "Kind of Blue," its fine art
AM It's fine art because of the sophistication
of the idea, the mastery of the technique involved in making the statement
JJM But is there a point, as Ellison talks about,
where the music become too intellectual for the culture or the ritual? Is
that a problem bebop created for itself?
AM It's a problem for people who are dealing with
this thing on a journalistic or popular level. Tastes change every ten years,
understand? The average person thinks of music on the level of "pop". Pop
is what is current. It has a wider audience and the most ephemeral appreciation.
So, let's not confuse what the real problem is, it depends on how seriously
you take it.
Jazz
as an enduring art form
JJM I want to read something that knocked me out.
This was in the notes to Ellison's novel Juneteenth. "A great
religious leader is a 'master of ecstacy.' He evokes emotions that move beyond
the rational on to the mystical. A jazz musician does something the same.
By his manipulation of sound and rhythm, he releases movements and emotions
which allow for the transcendence of everyday reality." It's an interesting
philosophy, and I immediately think of John Coltrane as a "master of ecstacy."
Who were Ellison's "masters of ecstacy" in his view of jazz musicians who
moved their work from the "rational to the mystical?"
AM Well, you like the statement so you are applying
it to someone you like. In Ellison's judgement of artistic appreciation there
are going to be some variations. People can generally agree on certain
masterpieces, but they don't write about them with the same amount of emotional
excitement. So, it's hard to really apply that. He may not have been all
that enthusiastic about John Coltrane, it doesn't mean he considered him
invalid or anything like that, but he would have thought his art was exaggerated
if he played something he couldn't see. It doesn't matter if "West End Blues"
is older or younger than Beethoven's Fifth, what is important in art is will
it endure? At Lincoln Center, they play much more Bach, much more Beethoven,
Chopin, than they play Aaron Copland or Samuel Barber. In jazz, journalists
desire a more popular form. They say that the jazz played there is "old."
They don't feel that way when talking about the Philharmonic. If you want
to apply to what Ellison said, he might not agree with you that Coltrane
achieved that ultimate level.
JJM The connection I make with Coltrane is that
Ellison's statement is relating this thing about an artist moving his work
from the rational to the mystical, and Coltrane
AM I understand that, but the point is you can
say that about anything you like. You gave me an example of what sort of
art you like, and I may say, "Oh man, I don't see that at all." It's a matter
of personal taste. The question is whether a large number of people would
say that over a long period of time. Now, whether you like Louis Armstrong
or not, a song like "Up a Lazy River" sounds as good now as it did then.
The jazz critics and audience is going for the "latest" thing, whereas at
the Philharmonic, they are playing the most "enduring" thing.
Murray on
"Juneteenth"
JJM In a 1957 letter to you, Ellison refers to his
second novel in progress, which was posthumously released as
Juneteenth. He had been writing a number of letters to you
throughout the 1950's, and the novel came up quite often, but this is the
statement that is most compelling to me. He writes, "I am going to whip the
damn thing but it is giving me a tough fight. It just looks as though every
possible emotional disturbance has to happen to me before I can finish the
book." What emotional obstacles were being presented to him, and can you
shed some light on why his second book was 40 years in the making?
| AM The only thing I can say is that he had
so many things going on. As John Callahan would tell you, he had stacks of
manuscripts. He wasn't "stuck," like he wasn't writing anything. He was working
on a number of things, the problem was getting them to work. My impression
was that he would be in a certain situation of a narrative, and he wanted
to bring two things together, and, like they do in the movies, where the
director shouts "Cut, two!". He would be in that type of situation, a "Cut,
two!" transition. He became so fascinated with the transitions
and the
options. |
Juneteenth |
JJM Did Ellison closely associate himself with the
character, the Reverend Hickman? Do you think he saw himself in that character?
AM He was all of them, in a way. There were a
number of characters that were not in Juneteenth that were also very
functional in the narrative sense - of the construction of the narrative.
In Juneteenth, the editor (John Callahan) was concerned with the strongest
narrative sequence that would give the reader the least amount of trouble
in following the narrative sequence from that big manuscript. Sequences that
made the narrative more complicated are not there. Ralph did not suffer from
"writers block." He had plenty of material. The difficulty was how to sequence
the material.
Memorable
jazz experiences
JJM What is the ultimate jazz event that you experienced
in person?
AM I was in Morocco and Ralph was in Rome in 1956
when Ellington played Newport, so we missed that
It's hard to separate
an event from recorded music. I can remember the impact of records, and being
conditioned and developed by the recordings of Armstrong and Ellington and
Basie before I saw those people. Records were just being widely distributed,
and radio came in. Some people were more excited about the advent of radio
than they were about hearing music in person.
JJM Sure, because going to concerts was the only
way to experience quality music. You had to physically attend
 Mood Indigo
|
AM To answer your question in another way,
a high moment in jazz for me was traveling with the Count Basie Orchestra
while I was writing Basie's biography. Spending a couple of days, riding
on the bus with the band, doing interviews, things like that. I can remember
Ellington rehearsals, concerts, recordings over a period of time that were
incredible experiences. It wasn't like one big epiphany. From the first radio
broadcasts back in the 1930's, hearing "Mood Indigo," "Black and Tan Fantasy,"
and "East St. Louis Toodle-OO," a song that moved me very deeply. It was
his theme song for many years. In his essay "Homage to Duke Ellington on
His Birthday," Ellison writes about how it represented a view of life which
we shared. It sounded spiritual, it sounded like gospel, it sounded like
the blues, all that
|
JJM We are from a different generation. You had
opportunities to take part in a world that is fascinating to me. I get excited
thinking about what it would have been like to go to 52nd Street, or Newport,
or LA's Western Avenue
AM In 1947 or 1948, I had just come out of the
Air Force, I went to graduate school at NYU. At that time, most of the graduate
courses were at night. I would be getting off school at 9:30 or 10:00. I
would come up to 52nd Street and stop at the Three Deuces and see Charlie
Parker and Miles Davis and Max Roach. These were the great innovators in
jazz! The area from Broadway to 7th Avenue, and that strip from 7th and 6th
Avenues, where CBS is now, and the block between 6th and 5th, where the 21
Club is now. You could zig zag across the street throughout that area, and
there must have been 15 or 20 spots to hear jazz. I do remember being there
and feeling the excitement around Parker being the "new, hot thing."
This must have been 1947. He was at the Three Deuces. A whole lot of these
experiences stand out, going backstage to see Duke Ellington, and to hear
the Ellington band when they played the "Deep South Suite" and the "Liberian
Suite." I was there to hear all that. It helped develop my relationship with
Ellington. I was introduced to Ellington by Harry Carney, who had a cousin
who not only went to Tuskeegee but was in the Air Force with me. My friend
told me that when I go to New York to be sure to say hello to Harry Carney.
Carney then took me in and introduced me to Duke.
JJM What is your most vivid memory of Duke Ellington?
What do you think about when you think about Ellington?
AM That's pretty hard to answer. You just had
to see him in various situations. In my book, Seven League Boots,
the character called "Bossman" was created around a lot of the experiences
I had with Ellington.
On "Ken Burns'
Jazz"
JJM Did any of the reaction to the Ken Burns broadcast
surprise you at all?
AM In what way?
JJM I am a fan of jazz and was appreciative of what
Burns did, especially in bringing the culture of jazz as a whole to the average
viewer. I was struck by how people found reason to criticize Burns'
work based on who was left out of the production, or what may have been dwelled on
in his storyline. It goes from something as simple as a fan's frustration
of not having artists like Wes Montgomery or Rahsaan Roland Kirk in the film
to the opinion that he didn't pay homage enough to the bebop era, that his
documentary was mostly of the swing and Louis Armstrong school. Were you surprised by some of the reaction to it?
| AM Well, I was involved in it, so I don't
have much to say, and I am much more involved in Jazz at Lincoln Center than
I was in that particular film. The objective of Jazz at Lincoln Center is
to present jazz as a "fine art" and not just a "pop" art. People are confused
about whether certain music is pop, or whether it's fine art. If it's pop,
then they react in a way that says "well, you didn't cover this, you didn't
cover that." As I said earlier, there is so much confusion around jazz as
to what is "pop" and what is "fine art." Critics are not going to criticize
anyone if they play Bach instead of Aaron Copland, just because Copland is
more recent than Bach. To me, that's crap, that's adolescent. Certain music
forms are not sufficiently developed and sophisticated. There may be something
that people are excited about, but the background that is brought into it
must be worthwhile, other than personal preferences. I thought there was
a lot of "pop" in the Burns film. Once you get into "pop" you have to be
up to date. The argument is that it was as if nothing has happened since
the end of the period Burns' film documents. Who said he was dealing with
a comprehensive, completely detailed record of jazz? I never thought that
was his purpose. If you stopped jazz with World War II, you would still have
a body of classic American music, if you stopped music at 1941. You would
have a form of American music that qualifies as "fine art." Just as if you
stopped documenting music at World War I, you would have a great body of
classical music as "fine art." |
Ken Burns |
JJM Perhaps much of the frustration was a result
of not truly understanding what Burns' motive as a filmmaker is. He is a
documentarian, but mostly he is a story teller. His interest was not to be
an encyclopedia but to tell a story, and sometimes when a story is
told some of the sidebars aren't told. He chose to tell the story within
three or four main characters, and his hope was to endear people to the culture
through these people. If he had tried to merely pump in information for the
sake of informing, and if that was his style from the start, he never would
have got to the point in his career to even make this film...
AM I don't know what you mean by "information."
To me, there are a number of different ways to make a valid documentary about
jazz. Is it about music, or is it about people or is it about other things?
If it's about music, and you wanted it to be about people, you would be unhappy.
You could put in ordinary performances simply because you have the footage,
and that would be one thing. If you pick out what you consider to be masterpieces
you just have to go with that. I am a writer, I have to pick out what I want
to go with. Either they like it or they don't. If I try to be as good as
I can be, as comprehensive as I can be, and as profound as I can be, I have
the freedom to make it as complex as I feel like. The other night I was watching
a story about Vesuvius on the History Channel. They didn't have to tell me
about the whole history of the Roman Empire, to tell me about Vesuvius. What
you do have to know is what cultural elements were destroyed, and what we
can learn from it because of what has been excavated.
________________________________
Ralph Ellison products at Amazon.com
Albert Murray products at Amazon.com
_______________________________
*
If you enjoyed this interview, you may want to read our interview with Ralph Ellison's literary executor, John Callahan.
*
Other
Jerry Jazz Musician interviews
The Ralph Ellison Project
|