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RAJ NANDY Mar 2016
Dear Poet Friends, and all true lovers of Jazz!  Being a lover of Classical and Smooth Jazz, I had composed first two parts in Verse on the History and Evolution of Jazz Music. Seeing the poor response of the Readers to my Part One here, I was hesitant to post my Second Part. I would request the Readers to kindly read Part One of this True Story also for complete information. Please do read the Foot Notes. With best wishes, - from Raj Nandy of New Delhi.


THE STORY OF JAZZ MUSIC : PART-II
               BY RAJ NANDY

        NEW ORLEANS : THE CRADLE OF JAZZ
BACKGROUND :
Straddling the mighty bend of the River Mississippi,
Which nicknames it as the ‘Crescent City’;
(Founded in 1718 as a part of French Louisiana
Colony),  -
Stands the city of New Orleans.
New Orleans* gets its name from Phillippe II,
Duc d’ Orleans , the Regent of France ;
A city well known for its music, and fondness
for dance.
The city remained as a French Colony until 1763,
When it got transferred to Spain as a Spanish
Colony.
But in the year 1800, the Spanish through a
secret pact, -
To France had once again ceded the Colony back!
Finally in 1803 the historic ‘Louisiana Purchase’
took place ,
When Napoleon the First sold New Orleans and  
the entire Louisiana State, -
To President Thomas Jefferson of the United
States!     * (See notes below)

THE CONGO SQUARE :
The French New Orleans was a rather liberal
place,
Where slaves were permitted to congregate,
For worship and trading in a market place,
But only on Sabbath Days, - their day of rest!
They had chosen a grassy place at the edge of
the old city,
Where they danced and sang to tom-tom beats,
Located north of the French Quarters across the
Rampart Street,
Which came to be known as the Congo Square,
Where one could hear clapping of hands and
stomping of feet!
There through folk songs, music, and varying
dance forms,
The slaves maintained their native African musical
traditions all along!
African music which remained suppressed in the
Protestant Colonies of the British,
Had found a freedom of expression in the Congo
Square by the natives; -
Through their Bamboula , Calanda, and Congo dance!
The Wolof and Bambara people from Senegal River
area of West Africa,
With their melodious singing and stringed instruments,
Became the forerunners of ‘Blues’ and the Banjo.
And during the Spanish Era, slaves from the Central
African Forest Culture of Congo,
Who with their hand-drummed polyrhythmic beats ,
Made people from Havana to Harlem  to rise and
dance on their feet!      
(see notes below)

CULTURAL MIX :
After the Louisiana Purchase , English-speaking
Anglo and African-Americans flooded that State.
Due to cultural friction with the Creoles, the new-
comers settled ‘uptown’,
Creating an American Sector, separate from older
Creole ‘down-town’ !
This black American influx in the uptown had
ushered in,
The elements of the Blues, Spirituals, and rural
dances into New Orleans’ musical scene.
Now these African cultural expressions gradually
diversified, -
Into Mardi Indian traditions, and the Second Line.^^
And eventually into New Orleans’ Jazz and Blues;
As New Orleans became a cauldron of a rich
cultural milieu!

THE CREOLES :
The Creoles were not immigrants but were home-
bred;
They were the bi-racial children of their French
Masters and their African women slaves!
Creole subculture was centred in New Orleans.
But after the Louisiana Purchase of 1803,  -
The Creoles rose to the highest rung of Society! @
They lived on the east of Canal Street in the
French Sector of the city.
Many Creole musicians were formally trained in
Paris,
Had played in Opera Houses there, and later led
Brass Bands in New Orleans.
Jelly Roll Morton, Kid Oliver, and Sidney Bechet
were all famous Creoles;
About whom I now write as this true Jazz Story
gradually unfolds.
In sharp contrast on the west of Canal Street lived
the ***** musicians,
Who lacked the economic advantages the Creoles
possessed and had!
The Negroes were schooled in the Blues, Work Songs ,
and Gospel Music;
And played by the ear with improvisation as their
unique characteristic !
But in 1894 when Jim Crow’s racial segregation
laws came into force,     # (see notes below)
The Creoles were forced to move West of Canal
Street to live with the Negroes.
This mingling lighted a ‘musical spark’ creating
a lightening musical flash;
Igniting the flames of a ‘new music’ which was
later called ‘Jazz’ !

INFLUENCE OF THE EARLY BRASS BANDS:
Those Brass Bands of the Civil War which played the
‘marching tunes’ ,
Became the precursors of New Orleans’ Brass Bands,
which later played at funeral marches, dance halls,
and saloons !
After the end of the Civil War those string and wind
instruments and drums, -
Were available in the second-hand stores and pawn
shops within reach of the poor, for a small tidy sum!
Many small bands mushroomed, and each town had
its own band stand and gazebos;
Entertained the town folks putting up a grand show!
Early roots of Jazz can be traced to these Bands and
their leaders like Buddy Bolden, King Oliver, Bunk
Johnson, and Kid Orley;
Not forgetting Jack 'Pappa' Laine’s Brass Band
leading the way of our Jazz Story !
The Original Dixieland Band of the cornet player
'Nick' La Rocca,
Was the first ever Jazz Band to entertain US Service
Men in World War-I and also to play in European
theatre, came later.     (In 1916)
I plan to mention the Harlem Renaissance in my
Part Three,
Till then dear Readers kindly bear with me!

CONTRIBUTION OF STORYVILLE :
In the waning years of the 19th Century,
When Las Vegas was just a farming community,
The actual ‘sin city’ lay 1700 miles East, in the
heart of New Orleans!
By Alderman Story’s Ordinance of 1897,
A 20-block area got legalized and confined,  
To the French Quarters on the North Eastern side
called ‘Storyville’, a name acquired after him!
This 'red light' area resounded with a new
seductive music ‘jassing up’ one and all;
Which played in its Bordello, Saloons, and the
Dance Halls !         (refer  my Part One)
Now the best of Bordellos hired a House Pianist,
who also greeted guests, and was a musical
organizer;
Whom the girls addressed respectfully as -
‘The Professor’!
Jelly Roll Morton, Tony Jackson author of
‘Pretty Baby’, and Frank ‘Dude’ Amacher, -
Were all well-known Storyville’s ‘Professors’.
Early jazz men who played in Storyville’s Orchestra
and Bands are now all musical legends;
Like ‘King’ Oliver, Buddy Bolden, Kid Orley, Bunk
Johnson, and Sydney Bechet.      ++ (see notes below)
Louis Armstrong who was born in New Orleans,
As a boy had supplied coal to the ‘cribs’ of
Storyville !          ^ (see notes below)
Louis had also played in the bar for $1.25 a night;
Surely the contribution of Storyville to Jazz Music
can never be denied!
But when America joined the First World War in
1917,
A Naval Order was issued to close down Storyville;
Since waging war was more important than making
love the Order had said !
And from the port of New Orleans US Warships
had subsequently set sail.
Here I now pause my friends to take a break.
Part Three of this story is yet to be composed,
Will depend on my Reader’s response !
Please do read below the handy Foot Notes.
Thanks from Raj Nandy of New Delhi.

FOOT NOTES:-
New Orleans one of the oldest of cosmopolitan city of Louisiana, also the 18th State of US, & a major port.
Louisiana was sold by France for $15 Million, & was later realized to be a great achievement of Thomas Jefferson!
Many African Strands of Folk Music & Dance forms had merged at the Congo Square.
^^ ’Second Line Music’= Bands playing during funerals & marches, evoked voluntary crowd participation, with songs and dances as appropriate forming a ''Second Line'' from behind.
@ Those liberal French Masters offered the Creoles the best of Education with access to their White Society!
# ’Jim Crow'= Between 1892 & 1895, 'Blacks' gained political prominence in Southern States. In 1896 land-rich whites disenfranchised the Blacks completely! A 25 year's long hatred
& racial segregation began. Tennessee led by passing the ‘Jim Crow’ Law ! In 1896, Supreme Court upheld this Law with -  ‘’Separate But Equal’’ status for the Blacks. Thus segregation became a National Institution! This segregation divided the Black & White Musicians too!
+ Birth of Jazz was a slow and an evolving process, with Blues and Ragtime as its precursor!    “Jazz Is Quintessence of  Afro-American Music born on European Instruments.”
++ Jelly ‘Roll’ Morton (1885-1941) at 17 years played piano in the brothels, – applying swinging syncopation to a variety of music; a great 'transitional figure' between Ragtime & Jazz Piano-style.
++ BUDDY BOLDEN (1877-1931) = his cornet improvised by adding ‘Blues’ to Ragtime in Orleans  during 1900-1907, which later became Jazz! BUNK JOHNSON (1879-1849 ) = was a pioneering jazz trumpeter who inspired Louis Armstrong.  KID OLIVER (1885-1938) =Cornet player and & a Band-leader, mentor & teacher of Louis Armstrong; pioneered use of ‘mute’ in music! ‘Mute’ is a device fitted to instruments to alter the timber or tonal quality, reducing the sound, or both.
KID ORLEY (1886-1973) : a pioneering Trombonist, developed the '‘tailgate style’' playing rhythmic lines underneath the trumpet & cornet, propagating Early Jazz.  SYDNEY BECHET (1897-1959) = pioneered the use of Saxophone; a composer & a soloist, inspired Armstrong. His pioneering style got his name in the ‘Down Beat Jazz Hall of Fame’! LOUIS ARMSTRONG (1890-1971) = Trumpeter, singer, & great improviser. First international soloist, who took New Orleans Jazz Music to the World!  
% = After America joined WW-I in 1917, a Naval Order was issued to shut-down  Storyville, to check the spread of VD amongst sailors!
^^ ”Cribs”= cheap residential buildings where prostitutes rented rooms. Louis Armstrong as a boy supplied coal in those ‘Cribs’.
During the 1940 s  Storyville was raised to the ground to make way for Iberville Federal Housing Project.
ALL COPYRIGHTS RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR : RAJ NANDY **
E-Mail : rajnandy21@yahoo.in
My love for Jazz Music made me to dig-up its past History and share it with few interested Readers of this Site! Thanks, -Raj
Mariella Rossi Aug 2011
It’s a place of healing,
the forest floor.
A place alive with secrets and knowing.

My learned sense of reality catches on the brambles and thorns as I pass,
and the tentative uncertainty of my untrained step
loosens with the soil on my feet
in the puddles on the path.

It’s a place of healing,
the forest floor.
A place intent on living.

Where each movement beneath the
towering company of life informs the next.

A little slower this time.
A little softer.
More quiet.

And with each surrendering breath,
another can be heard.
One more colossal and unified in its polyrhythmic sway.  
The trees and vines and creatures with their watchful eyes,
and the earth underfoot,
swell and recede in a merry yawn.

On my twilight walk to fetch water
the dark patiently dilutes all colour,
but allows detail a stolen moment to define my way.
The texture of bark on the lean oak trees around the spring,
the burbling contortion of their reflection at its yielding mouth,
the lichen-rough rocks,
smoothed at the water's edge,
all persist and scintillate into grey.
The soft pricked dendrites of moss cushion my knee
as I slip and fall,
one foot in the spring!
And my scream and giggle pierce the listening night,
and there is no other human being in sight.
So I sit. Wet and still. In the moss.
For tonight, when the darkness stretches its veil impenetrably-tight
over the forest I shall be inside,
to find my place within it's creeping, writhing breath.

Its a place of healing,
the forest floor.
Where living things may grow.
Ben May 2012
music through my veins
polyrhythmic synapses
firing in 3/2 timing
stuttering triplet rolls
around my thoughts
octave to octave change
quicknowdoubletime
overdrive of emotion
s l o w s  t o  h a l f  t i m e
q  u  a  r  t  e  r   t  i  m  e
e   i   g   h   t   h    t   i   m   e
stop these shaking hands
this staccato heart
a note from the end
a measure too soon
a crescendo to nothing

discordant - anti-climatic.

was the song to my life ever on beat?
Gigi Tiji Feb 2015
I am 'cause of what I'm not
and I want love, y'know, a bit of
everything and nothing at all
and, well, I want myself back.

I want to want myself.
I want to be myself.
I want to connect.
I want to LISTEN, but
why do I have to be so ******* deaf?

I'm in the backseat now,
behind the wheel, but I can't
hear where we're going

Could you turn it down?
I don't think they heard me.
Nice clouds, pretty trees,
I like the gradient of the sky.

Up and up the elevator and
I'm so tired of your words falling
shattered on my ear drums
as they translate into
polyrhythmic fuckery
and I'm left struck dumb
and scrambling for the downbeat

buzzing lights and whirring wires
humming fans and the squealing
of brakes from 16 floors down

sirens blind my mind's eye and
down on the streets I'm losing your words
like a fat pig chasing an anarchist
black mask, no idea
out of breath

Gah! Whisper in my ear, please.
I just want to climb all the hills and
valleys of your words and swim in
every nuance of their inflection

I just want to be a gift
Present, and able to
unwrap your song
Yesterday was my birthday,
whereupon I became Twenty-two
so I decided to meditate on the day of Twenty-two
and the age of Twenty-two.

I pick up the coins
shake them in my cupped hands clasped shut
listen to the jingle of the Universe
trying to make up its mind
as to which coin faces face up

A few seconds of using my hands with the coins as a shaker
defining a sort of polyrhythmic cosmic probability;
I let them fly.
They crash down:

Two black and one white. Yang. Solid line.

I throw the second set:

Two white and one black. Yin. Broken line.

Third:

Two black and one white. Yang. Solid line.

Fourth:

Two white and one black. Yin. Broken line.

Fifth:

Two white and one black. Yin. Broken line.

Sixth:

Two black and one white. Yang. Solid line.
-
The Twenty-Second hexagram in the I Ching is Grace.
In it's unchanging form, Grace signifies a temporary period of harmony and of fruition.
It is a bad time to make big decisions, but it is a great time to work on one's self, one's craft and practices, and one's immediate surroundings.
-
Fitting that as I turn Twenty-two on the Twenty-second of the Fourth month,
the Hexagram I throw is number Twenty-two (2+2=4).
Pearson Bolt Feb 2017
a phone call
from area code 772.
Jensen Beach, FL.
a retreat beside the waves.
a refuge built
so far away
to keep you safe
and help you
recuperate.

i slide my thumb across the screen,
busting the chains of my purgatory.
you pause briefly,
right before you say, "Hello, Pearson."
your inflection hangs
on my name,
as if to hold me
in your mouth.
i linger in your lungs
like the smoke
from your favorite
cigarettes.
when you breathe
me out, i hear the sigh
of relief, signaling how much
you'd hoped i'd pick up.

you say, "so,
tell me something new."
a detail i neglected to include
in one of the daily letters
i'd sent to you. absently,
i search for a subject.
anything. but all
that comes to mind
is, "god, you've no idea
how much i've missed you.
it's so good to hear you speak."

five minutes. that's all.
i wish i'd had more time.
i would've used my tongue
to gently ply
your contours
and tantalize your mind.
i once built a home
inside your psyche.
a dragon usurped my throne,
but only temporarily.
i returned with an army
of those who'd die
to liberate you.
so permit me to feed
your creativity,
enabling your addiction
to my free-verse.

don't mind me
as i continually use
my poetry to clean
up the place.
i'll weave you a tapestry
of multicolor. you've kicked
the habit, but you still fancy
the way my lyrics get
your knees knocking,
your body quaking.
you couldn't quit me
even if you wanted to.

so, i'll remain
in the secret places
of your brain, building bridges
across rivers of synaptic gaps
until, one day,
you'll find me spray-painting graffiti
in your dopamine cathedral.
you'll ask, "after all this time?"

and i'll say, "always."
i'll plant new seeds
until i run out of letters
to string together. with each
polyrhythmic twirl,
a dexterous melody
will exacerbate your ecstasy,
each stanza a slick finger
slipping beneath
your skin, leaving you
calling out my name again.

— The End —