People
Wynton's War
The power behind Jazz at Lincoln Center
sounds his horn for the salvation of New Orleans, the revitalization of jazz, and the rescue of American culture
Photography by Dan Demetriad
Uniquely, Wynton Marsalis, 46, has been
honored both for his jazz and his classical trumpet playing, winning Grammy awards for
recordings in both fields in the same years.
But his deepest allegiance is to jazz: as the artistic director for Jazz at
Lincoln Center, Marsalis has worked
valiantly to bring jazz back to center stage in the U.S.; his fundraising clout helped raise $131
million to create and build the 100,000-square- foot nonprofit institution at
Columbus Circle for the performance and support of jazz at home and abroad. Jazz, itself, was
born in New Orleans, and so was Marsalis.
Marsalis began training on
trumpet at the age of 12; he entered The Juilliard School in 1979 when he was 17. Over the
next 20-plus years, he produced more than 40 jazz and classical recordings
for Columbia Jazz and Sony Classical labels and won a combined nine Grammy Awards.
In 1997, he became the first jazz artist and jazz composer to be awarded the
Pulitzer Prize in music.
Recently, CONTRIBUTE Editor-in-Chief Marcia
Stepanek caught up with Marsalis to talk about his music, his fundraising for
Jazz at Lincoln Center, his philanthropy, and his work to
improve arts education. What follows is an edited transcript of that conversation.
You are from New Orleans; you were born there. American jazz was born there. How did Hurricane Katrina call you personally into action?
Out
of sadness, and horror. I guess you feel that towards any person who got hit by
a car, but in this case its your hometown, so its as if something happened to
your family or your mother. So all of us felt we needed to help. I got publicity
because Im known, but so many New Orleanians, even now, are doing what they
can and doing everything in their power. A lot of people call me, asking what
they can do to help, intelligently, to rebuild the city. We are all still
running around trying to figure that out.
On the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday in 2006,
you gave a stirring and provocative speech to students at Tulane University, urging
them not only to help rebuild New Orleans but to help shake up what you said is a slumbering nation. What was your message and the reaction to it?
The
students enjoyed the speech. I was mainly speaking to them. But it was inter- esting.
I heard from people all over the country saying that it was time to say what I
did. I was saying that the younger generation has got to demand more than what
we, in our generation, have demandedespecially when it comes to civic awareness.
My daddy thought—no, he expected—that my
brothers and I and our generation would make the world a better place. He was
correct in his belief because he had lived in an America of continual social
progress depression followed by prosperity, segregation by integration, and so
on. And though I haven't quite pinpointed it, somewhere between my daddy's youth
and mine, generational aspirations for a richer democracy changed to
aspirations for a richer me—more wealth and more leisure time for a lower quality
of work. And our political process? We didn't keep an eye on how our tax dollars
were being squandered or how our interests were being poorly served by our
elected officials.
When did we begin to
lose faith in our ability to effect change? Perhaps the demoralizing murders of
John and Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King scared the civic-minded young
people of the 1960s right out of their idealism into despair and then, to
in difference. Perhaps it was the 1980s when the opportunity inherent in the American
Dream was distorted from the land of "we" to the land of "to hell with anybody else but me." Maybe the
preoccupation with technological progress has overshadowed our concern with
human progress.
In any case, the result
of this social inactivity is that generations are now named simply for the
last letters of the alphabet (Generation X, Generation Y, and so forth). And
these alphabet-named people are distinguished by their ability to manipulate
new technology, buy new things with money they have not earned and be obsessed
with the trivial lives of celebrities.
My
message to young people is this, that what happened in New Orleans, what is happening around the
world, is a signal opportunity to actually start to participate. Throughout the
history of America, young people have been a part of
change. Its time to seize the day.
In September of 2005, you organized the Higher Ground Hurricane Relief Fund
benefit concert in Manhattan for New Orleans. That evening, the actor Danny Glover told the
audience: "New Orleans is plunging its remaining population into a
carnival of misery. [Katrina] did not turn the region into a Third World
Country, as it has been disparaged in the media. It revealed one. It revealed the
disaster within the disaster. Grueling poverty rose to the surface like a
bruise to our skin. Hurricane Katrina revealed more than anything else, 'a
poverty of imagination.'" Do you agree?
Yeah,
I agree with it, and it plays out in school systems across the country and cities
across the country. There are so many unresolved
issues in our country, and now is, I think, a good time for us to begin to
understand that racial tensions, poverty, what have you, are national issues,
and they're not just going to resolve themselves with inaction. We have to work together to resolve these
problems. Some people don't know we have problems but there aren't many. The only
way you cannot know is if you just don't look at what's right in front of you. If
you don't look at a homeless person, you don't know people are homeless. You
can walk down the street and walk past 50 homeless people, and you can say, I
don't see them. And they don't. But if you look at them, they're there.
You've
always been outspoken, musically.
It's created a lot of bad reviews during my life.
And good ones, as well.
Some.
Did this speech mark a turning point, even for
you, in terms of speaking out provocatively to a national audience?
Not for me.
It may have been perceived that way, but I've been saying the same things to
kids in colleges and high schools and have been trying to create change now for
many years. I would like for there to be a turning point in terms of the
national consciousness about things.
Thanks
in large measure to your celebrity and your fundraising clout, of course,
jazz got a new house of worship with the opening of the Jazz at Lincoln Center complex at Columbus Circle in Manhattan. What was this about for you,
personally? Was it all about energizing the faithful and drumming up new
converts to jazz as an art form?
The ultimate goal was to raise the American
consciousness to a higher level. Jazz music creates so many phenomenal figures.
There's so much spirit of integration and democracy in jazz.
You once said that the very form of jazz, itself,
is a democracy.
Well, it's just our way of expressing. We play with each other. As
a jazz musician, you have individual power to create the sound. You also have a
responsibility to function in the context of other people who have that power
also.
There's the concept of New Orleans jazz: group improvisation, cooperative
en- semble-playing, which functions exactly like a democracy. Each person has
the right to play what he or she wants to play, but the responsibility to play
something that makes everybody else sound good. It's the way that these horns
relate to the rhythm section, it's like a musical example of how a democracy
should work. I mean, it's been said so
many times, you know, what I'm saying is like a cliché.
Teaching young people
about jazz is so much more than simply teaching them about music. Jazz is designed
to teach you things about yourself first. The music teaches you to respect what
it is about you that is unique, so that you don't have to fit into a kind of
group mentality. For kids who face all sorts of peer pressure, learning jazz
can give a kid so much confidence. Jazz also teaches you that other people also
are unique and don't have to fit in. And it teaches you to play with them, to listen
to them. Most of the time playing jazz, you're listening. You're not playing. And
if you're in the rhythm section and you're playing all the time, you're listening
all the time because you're inventing the accompaniment to something that someone
is making up on the spot. So those are the basic laws, the basic skills you
need to learn growing up—one, learning how to be yourself and two, how to
respect other people and their individuality and the choices they make, which
will—many times—not be your choices. Because jazz really is all about that:
accepting what other people are doing and working with it.
We said all of this to people during the fundraising
for Jazz at Lincoln Center, people who maybe didn't like jazz but who loved
the United States. They could say, hey, maybe I don't like jazz,
but I understand what you're saying, and I agree with that, and that's worth me
putting some money into it because I want to see our country go in that
direction, too.
With Jazz at Lincoln Center, I'm living it. I'm not selling you
a line. I don't need a building for myself. It's about whether people want to be
a part of something historic. Our board has been very dedicated to jazz, and
we raised a lot of money in a very hard time, a difficult time, after 9/11. We
had a lot of support, a lot of really faithful people who believe in the art
form. The art form created that. I might
espouse the message and talk about it, but Duke Ellington, Miles Davis—their
music meant something to all of the people who danced to their music, listened
to their music, fell in love to their music, used their music as a philosophy. Many
of those people are still alive in this country. Maybe they lost touch with it
or they're scared of jazz. But jazz means something. I think our donors understand
that.

Do you think you've awakened a broader base for this music?
No, I think
that will take a lot of education, where our country is in dire need of
cultural education. Jazz is tradition, part of American history and culture and
life. But we have, as a country, gotten so far away from our whole mythology. American
mythology is skewed so much against what the country actually represents. If
we were educated in our own grandeur and in the best of the things that we've
created, then we'd have never let a lot of things happen.
Like what?
Like we wouldn't denigrate other
people. Jazz music doesn't denigrate anybody. There is, for example, the public
use of the word "nigger" all the time, or the kind of exploitation of girls and
women that goes on constantly in mass culture now. It is so harsh, so crass.
It's not a matter of taking away the most fundamental human thing that we all
love and enjoy, and some more than others [laughter], but it's a matter of saying,
man, is that what we want of our young people, is this what we're giving them? We
also would not have a kind of almighty worshipping of money and a lack of
integrity that we see in business and in all things. It's in the arts also. I'm not
saying that those things wouldn't exist, but they wouldn't be a philosophy,
they wouldn't be our primary direction if we were to embrace the best of what
our tradition has led us to embrace.
Since 9/11, so many people have opened their
wallets to give to causes here and, as never before, abroad. Given your fundraising
efforts, how would you size up the state of philanthropy today?
I want to answer that globally, because in the
entire world, we really have enough for everybody. There's enough for everybody to
eat, there's enough for everybody to be educated. We have enough technology. We have
enough. That couldn't be said of many other periods of time. With advances in
farming, with advances in communication—we have enough.
So until our
consciousness evolves to see how we're all connected to every other person,
we'll always have this kind of idea that we have something to be fighting over. We're
under the illusion that there's a finite amount of these things, and you'd better
get as much of it as you can get.
Philanthropy is not a requirement. But I
think that the more that we become aware of other people and how much we can
help them—and not just with money but with time and our interests—the more
effective we will be.
We need that
social fabric. I [gave a music lesson to] a young lady yesterday, and she
started to get full of emotion. She wasn't playing like she wanted to play. She told
her parents she wanted them to leave the room. She's 16 years old. "Youre looking
at me," I told her. I was 16 once, I had parents, I've been nervous, I've messed
up on stuff, I've done well on stuff, I made good grades on things, bad grades,
all the stuff that you experience when you're 16. I told her, "Don't send your
support system away. Let your parents stay and help; you will need them."
I told her a story about a famous doctor in New Orleans who choked to death, and he did so
when he was at a convention of doctors. He choked to death because he went
to the bathroom to be alone; he didn't want them to see him choke. It was that
impulse to leave his support system to deal with a tough situation. So for
all of the philanthropists, all of the donors, we're all one big support system.
Each gesture that goes in that direction creates more philanthropy, more
support for everyone.
It's like the more you give, the more you get. It's just
how that works. You get what you create. If you create something for other
people, you create it for yourself. If I'm kind to a person and his or her daughter, that's
my daughter or my son. If I'm kind to you, it's not like I am separate from you. We're
all a part of a big circle; it's just a matter of developing the consciousness
to realize it.
Have you always felt this way?
As I grew up, I had to deal with
a lot of racism. I was very, very angry for a long time. Very angry. It made me
so mad. Once I was at CBS Records, and the singer, Bill Weathers, came to me,
he said, "Man, I look at you, I understand how angry you are." He said, "I'm going
to tell you, that anger will kill you and there's a lot for you to be happy
about. Turn your mind onto that." And it
made me start to think. I knew he had that vibe, too, of somebody who had been
angry for a long time. So I started then, at that moment, to change, to start
trying to change. I said, okay, a lot happened I didn't like, but a lot happened
that I did like. People did things to me that were unjust and unkind, but
people also did a lot of kind things. So it's a matter of adjustment. It's hard
to do. I'm not saying it's easy but if you get so used to being that way, you can
feel unprotected when you're not like that.

So much of what you're doing now—the
music, your fundraising—seems as if some of that adjustment is now a cause.
The
cause is people. The lives of people. It's like that's my great-aunt, my
great-uncle, my grandmother, my grandfather, my people, that's the cause. The
cause is people. That's always the cause.
Let me ask you a bit about jazz,
itself. It used to be more community-based, found in clubs in the
neighborhoods. How has the music changed since it's shifted to the institutions
and the concert halls?
The music has not really shifted to the institutions
and the concert halls. People have been playing this music in concert halls for
a long time. Benny Goodman played in Carnegie Hall in 1938. Duke Ellington
played in Carnegie Hall. Local musicians play in clubs all over the world all
the time. We're always in there playing with them. So the music has not shifted.
The popularity of the music has gone down from where it was in the 1930s, but that's
been a steady decline because then, a version of it was the most popular music
in America. It's natural the popularity would go down.
With
any of the arts, not just jazz, your
audience will decline if you don't have education. You don't even have to get to
whether you can play it well or not. Without education, you cannot maintain an
art form.
Now when something is evolving, it goes through many stages,
but sometimes things come together to create a Golden Age—like dance and
broadcast—and you get a lot of people who are informed. But you don't keep having
those moments.
You can't say, man, I sure
wish I could get back to when I was weighing 163 pounds and I could eat all day
[laughter]. You're not going to stay in that moment. Maybe you had that for
four, five years. Now you have to start doing other things to maintain that.
The first thing is to identify jazz, music education
as something that you need to maintain. We haven't, as a culture, even identified
anything about our dance. What would we like to see our public dance be? What
would we like to see our national art sound like? You want it to be lewdness
and profanity and the use of expletives? Is that what we want? That's what we
have.
Is this art form, jazz, in danger?
All art forms are in danger in a
period of no education.
And you mean
music education?
All art forms. No, not just music education. Education. All art
forms: Art is in danger when there's a lack of education. That's why when the
fascists come in, they burn books, they start to destroy art. They understand
that if they do that, they destroy all these people's connections to who they
are so that then, you can make them be what you want them to be. So it's not jazz.
Everybody is in trouble. Look at the records. Look at the books. Look at the symphony
orchestras and what they're going through. Look at what types of films get made.
Look at the dance companies and what they have to do to survive. So then the question is not jazz, it's our culture.
That's what we should be questioning. It's not a question about jazz. People
are still playing jazz all over the world. They're doing what they can.
There is a lot of new money out there that wants
to be more active.
I would like to see younger people be much more active.
I
think they're capable of being active and have the wherewithal, the
intelligence, the organizational skills and the global awareness. They have
all of these things. But the one thing they don't have is a cause. Their own
cause.
And yet Americans are seen in the world as being among the most
philanthropic.
Privately, yes, but from a government standpoint, not really. We
have to remember that many foreign governments support the arts. We, here in
this country, must rely on our private philanthropy and our institutions like
our businesses because our government does not really support the arts.
Do
fundraising strategies for the arts have to change to reflect this?
I don't
really know what the strategies are, to be honest with you. I mean, to me, when
I talk to people, I don't go with a strategy. I just talk to them like I'm
talking to you. And I say this is what our cause is, this is what we are about.
I'm not trying to sell them a bill of goods. Because the money's not for me. It's
for an art form, and the art form has served me well, and when I'm gone, it will
still be here, and so will that institution.