It’s hard to believe this institute is drawing to a close. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know many of the participants, and the lectures and discussions have been lively, informative, and enlightening. I have especially enjoyed our ongoing debate about authenticity, and the question “What is black music.” I’m not sure if we’ll ever really reach a consensus on that. But I feel like I’ve reached a conclusion that satisfies my curiosity on the topic.
It seems to me that an artist’s music is a product of who the artist is: their personality, their training, their upbringing, and their lifestyle. Of course, race can play into some of these factors, but I do not accept that it is THE defining quality that determines what type of music an artist should or can produce. We’ve gone around and around in our discussions with examples of inferior white cover versions of “black” songs, or black covers of “white” songs that suddenly have soul when performed by a black artist. Because many black artists learn their craft in black churches with a unique manner of singing that is not generally found in white churches or communities, it is understandable that black popular artists would carry these gospel characteristics into their music, thus making it sound “black.”
We’ve also spent a great deal of time investigating the lifestyles of the performers we’ve been studying, by reading biographies and autobiographies, and watching films portraying or inspired by the lives of the musicians. We learned that many of the leading jazz musicians of the mid-century were addicted to hard drugs, and some died prematurely because of their drug abuse. Diana Ross was a diva who treated the other Supremes poorly, but she was a hard worker and driven to succeed. Berry Gordy created a family atmosphere in Motown, but he was also a control freak, a shrewd businessman, and he showed preferential treatment to his favorite performers. None of these things really have much to do with race, but all of them influence the sound that is created by these individuals.
As we’ve attempted to define and quantify this elusive attribute called “soul,” I’ve spent a bit of time pondering which performances I consider to be the most “soulful.” Without a doubt, the most soulful performance I know (in my opinion) is Janis Joplin’s 1968 rendition of Gershwin’s “Summertime.” Interestingly, the song was written by a white composer in 1935, intended to be sung by a classically trained African American soprano (a daring choice at the time). In its original version, it certainly sounds more “white” than “black” due to its operatic range and classical orchestration. Functioning as a lullaby in the context of Porgy & Bess, it’s not even a particularly “soulful” song. In Joplin’s version however, her voice is so hoarse and raspy, it sounds as if it is caught in her throat throughout the entire song – she never allows clean tone to break through. Her singing conveys a sense of sadness and heartbreak that is hard to put into words. To me, “soul” isn’t simply a measure of how “black” a piece of music sounds, but the spiritual essence of a performance, which can be expressed in different ways, gospel or otherwise.
Joplin was of course a white woman who indulged in hard drugs, and her life was cut short at 27 years because of this. The reckless abandon she shows in her performances was reflective of her lifestyle. The fact that we seem to find more “soul” in black performances than in white performances might have something to do with the fact that historically blacks have faced more hardship than whites. The 60s did mark a major turning point in their struggle, as both black and white civil rights advocates fought to desegregate the South, and level the playing field between Americans of both races. As integration was implemented, blacks became more exposed to white tastes and cultures, and vice versa. The crossing over and blending of musical styles that we see emerging in the 60s, and continuing into the 70s and 80s, is a natural byproduct of integration. Rather than eroding cultural traditions, I see this as giving artists of both races a broader palette of musical aesthetics with which to express themselves. We each have our own musical tastes, and are entitled to take what we like and leave what we don’t. Musicians also have the right to formulate their own musical style based on their preferences, or what will be commercially successful if that’s their goal. What kind of music you create or enjoy should be an expression of yourself that is not limited by the color of your skin.
-- Karen Helseth
