Penniless and Obscure

Name one jazz master who died penniless and obscure. By virtue of the latter qualifier, this challenge is best fielded by jazz musicians and fans. Unfortunately, the list is a long one. The first musician who comes to my mind is the late Hank Mobley, whose greatness is belied by the lack of recognition he received during his lifetime. Nowadays, no self-respecting student of tenor would overlook Mobley's body of work. His relaxed mastery of the bebop language, his prolific composition, his recorded legacy as a leader and a sideman (including Soul Station, which is on many fans' "desert island" list), are collectively a hoard of wealth to jazz culture. Hank died penniless in 1986 at the age of 55.

Throughout history, jazz greats and lesser known working jazz musicians have struggled with a similar plight. Earning a living performing jazz music (which, although adored by many, has rarely seen commercial success) is incredibly difficult, perhaps impossible to all but a lucky few or those resourceful enough to cross over into more lucrative arts.

A resolution passed by Congress in 1987 declared jazz a national treasure. I've excerpted some key points below, but do read the full text, as it rather succint and eloquent in its entirety:

...[jazz] has become a true international language adopted by musicians around the world as a music best able to express contemporary realities from a personal perspective;... ...Whereas, in as much as there exists no effective national infrastructure to support and preserve jazz;... ...Now, therefore be it Resolved by the House of Representatives (the Senate concurring), that it is the sense of the Congress that jazz is hereby designated as a rare and valuable national American treasure to which we should devote our attention, support and resources to make certain it is preserved, understood and promulgated.

It's not clear what impact this noble gesture has had on the support of jazz musicians. It does seem as difficult as ever. I've witnessed some success by the Manhattan-based non-profit Jazz Foundation of America, which is both funded privately and by grants. In 2001, I attended their first benefit concert A Great Night in Harlem, which raised money for the Jazz Foundation's Musician Emergency Fund. That night, they told the story of jazz baritone saxophonist Cecil Payne, who had been living in poor health in seclusion before friends hooked him up with assistance through the Jazz Foundation. (Man, he sounded great, too! What an honor to hear him play!) Cecil passed in 2007, but at least not without well-deserved respect and support from his peers and his fans.

Local 802, New York's music union, pushed for legislation that was passed in 2006 by Governor George Pataki. The idea was to eliminate the sales tax on admission to live performances in jazz clubs, which would then be directed towards musicians' pension benefits. The legislation was celebrated in this article, but in reality, the agreement with jazz clubs never came to fruition.

In short, the jazz clubs by and large pocketed the tax relief. You can read about it in more lengthy articles by Ian David Moss and Emily S. Rueb.

I've been reflecting a lot on my previous post Challenges Facing New York Jazz Clubs. My intention in that post was to get we musicians to consider the club perspective and to think of creative ways to bring fans to our gigs, as a healthy fanbase is mutually beneficial to musicians and clubs alike. However, this sales tax pension fiasco just goes to show in microcosm that trickle-down economics doesn't work. So let's not overstate the challenges of jazz clubs, lest we understate the struggles of jazz musicians!

It falls upon ourselves to support our peers and promote jazz. With the online resources we have today, we can reach out to a wider audience. Through social networking, we can keep connected with our fellow musicians so that they don't drop off the planet like Hank Mobley and Cecil Payne. That's really what I'm getting at here. Not lamenting so much about the eternal struggle of jazz musicians, but rather finding ways to empower ourselves to avoid the same fate.