Paul Austerlitz, an ethnomusicologist, jazz musician (bass clarinet), and author of Merengue: Dominican Music and Dominican Identity (1997), continues his exploration of music and identity in his latest work. The author extends W.E.B. Dubois’ concept of the “double consciousness,” the simultaneous identification with the black in-group and the larger mainstream into the world of jazz. As a manifestation of this double consciousness, jazz consciousness is presented as an expression of the ambivalence that African Americans and other marginalized groups around the world feel as they negotiate dual emic/etic identities. Austerlitz states that by embodying a holistic aesthetic of inclusiveness, which incorporates “any and all outside elements,” jazz becomes a way for individuals to express duality and empower themselves through a unifying “utopian universalism” (xvi). Overall, jazz consciousness is used as a framework to study jazz vis-à-vis national identity in the United States and African diasporic identity, as well as jazz’s transnational influence.
In chapter one, Austerlitz examines the historical development of jazz in the United States, arguing that this genre manifests duality by both embodying the multiracial makeup of America through its inclusive nature, and acting as a forum to express unequal power relations between blacks and the mainstream through the use of sonic elements which mark it as a distinct African-American art form. It is not surprising that Austerlitz, a bass clarinetist, uses an extensive biographical examination of Eric Dolphy (a jazz musician most renowned for his performance on this instrument) to exemplify his arguments about the ability of jazz consciousness to express the dualisms of the black experience in America. This narrative offers a rich, concentrated site of investigation, and Austerlitz’ passion for this music is evident through his nuanced discussion of Dolphy’s personal experience with “doubleness.”
Chapter two uses the metaphor of Kente cloth (a multicolored woven fabric associated with the Asante and Ewe of Ghana), to explore the complex interaction between the various constituent parts of jazz. Most interestingly, Austerlitz augments Time Unit Box System (TUBS) notation—creating what he calls Kente notation—adding a variety of colors and shading to illustrate his points about jazz time, rhythm, conversation, and its relation to body movement. Ultimately, he uses this metaphor to highlight the “Africanness” of jazz and bolster his argument that this music is by nature an inclusive genre because it is based on an African aesthetic of group participation and communal experience.
Chapter three is the book’s centerpiece, extensively examining the fusion of African American and Afro-Cuban culture/music in New York City through a detailed analysis of Machito and Mario Bauza. The narrative of these bandleaders’ lives evinces the resonance of jazz with a wide range of people from the African diaspora and beyond. Austerlitz argues that Afro-Cuban jazz was one way for these Cuban immigrants and other marginalized groups to (1) confront racial stereotypes, (2) reconcile the multiple Cuban/Latin/American/African identities through inclusiveness (i.e., fusion of various musical elements and “multi-ethnic” participation), and (3) gain acceptance in the American and international communities through the music’s immense popularity.
Chapter four explores the ambivalent relationship many citizens of the Dominican Republic had with jazz. The author contends that Dominicans identified with the music’s African/African American roots but resisted its European and American associations as they confronted American occupation and cultural hegemony. In all, this chapter’s discussion supports Austerlitz’ argument for the dual nature of jazz consciousness and its ability to address this duality through the adaptability of the music (i.e., the blending of jazz with indigenous Dominican forms).
Austerlitz then explores the fusion of jazz and local music in his native land of Finland, showing how jazz can be equally adaptable “outside of the African diaspora” (xxi). The author uses his deep knowledge of this region’s history to elucidate the ways in which jazz consciousness has helped Finns to negotiate social, ethnic, economic, and national struggles.
Lastly, the author presents the voice of his mentor Milford Graves, a renowned jazz drummer, holistic healer, and professor. This text is an amalgam of a series of lengthy conversations between the author and his teacher, which underscore the universalist, utopian, and inclusive philosophies of jazz, and further demonstrate how individuals uniquely experience and express these qualities through their musical practices and everyday lives.
Overall, the book makes a number of valuable contributions, most notably to the discourses on jazz, identity, nationalism, and race. The book offers a unique comparative analysis of jazz in several regions, examining the processes of music adaptation, its empowering social impact in disparate contexts, and the aesthetic qualities that make it both distinctive and universal across the globe. In this regard, the book paves the way for further extensive exploration of jazz in its diaspora. For example, the author leaves the subject of jazz in Africa unexplored. His concept of jazz consciousness, with its focus on reconciling multiple identities and confronting racism, could be productive in exploring Africans’ complex identities and interactions with (neo)colonialism. Additionally, by placing emphasis on the inclusive nature of jazz, Austerlitz may be open to criticism that cites the exclusive tendencies of jazz (i.e., marginalization of women, occasional expressions of anti-white radical black nationalism, connection with elite social classes, and bebop artists’ distancing from popular music). It is laudable that Austerlitz does not neglect the importance of dance in African and African-diasporic music, a topic frequently marginalized in the social sciences. This book is a valuable read for anyone interested in the intersection of identity, race, and music. Its lucid narrative style is accessible to non-musicians, yet it offers technical and aesthetic detail rich enough for even the most seasoned jazz veteran.
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[Review length: 929 words • Review posted on May 11, 2006]