Rays of hope amid the despair
For music lovers, thiswas a year of monumental losses and occasional triumphs, vast silences and sorely needed bursts of sound.
Though there’s noway to claw back the music and musicians stolen fromus by the coronavirus pandemic, there’s no denying the resilience Chicago’s jazz and classical musicians showed in the face of disaster. Whole seasons were canceled, clubs and concert halls stood empty, audiences disappeared. Yet Chicago’smusicians found newways to reach listeners in a venue where few had ventured before: cyberspace.
Encountering revered Chicago Symphony Orchestra members or legendary Chicago jazz musicians on a computer screen, via tinny speakers, wasn’t just a poor facsimile of the real thing— it didn’t even come close. Jazz and classical artists need to be heard in three dimensions, the true character of their sound— its texture and nuance— all but lost in digital reproduction. You need to feel this music aswell as hear it.
And yet encountering these profoundly accomplished artists at a fraction of their size on a screen, hearing a mere echo of howthey sound in person, was enough to remind us of whatwe were missing, andwhy it mattered. So though no virtual concert could do justice to the soulfulness of the CSO winds or the guts and grit of Chicago’s saxophone giants, the chance to experience them again— even in somewhat ghostly form— was a privilege treasured nowmore than ever. These musicians heroically strove to break the silence.
Before revisiting the moments of hope these musicians gave us, though, it’s essential to acknowledge those felled by the pandemic. These losseswere especially grievous in jazz, amusic in which the most revered figures tend to be the oldest— and therefore the most vulnerable to COVID-19. Howis it possible that in a single art form, in a single year, the virus took 85-year-old pianist-educator EllisMarsalis, paterfamilias to a dynasty including trumpeterWynton, saxophonist Branford, trombonist Delfeayo and drummer Jason Marsalis; 92-year-old alto saxophonist LeeKonitz, who had changed our understanding of what his instrument could achieve; 94-year-old guitarist Bucky Pizzarelli, who practically personified mid-20th century swing traditions; 84-year-old avant-garde bassistHenry Grimes, who had been enjoying an unexpected comeback after decades of obscurity; and 59year-oldWallace Roney, a Miles Davis protégé who deftly backed
the master at the notorious “Miles& Quincy Live atMontreux” concert in 1991?
We can add to this year’s tragic toll other jazz giants who succumbed to other illnesses: 94year-old Jazz Showcase founder Joe Segal, who did more than anyone apart from the musicians themselves to keep jazz alive in Chicago since 1947; 74-year-old author-critic Stanley Crouch, who always dared to say and write exactly what he believed, despite prevailing intellectual fashions; 81-year-old pianistMcCoy Tyner, whose volcanic sound powered John Coltrane’s experiments and his own explosive bands; 88-year-old singer-pianistsongwriter Freddy Cole, Nat King Cole’s kid brother and a fervent champion of their family’s immense musical legacy; 89-yearold multi-instrumentalist Ira Sullivan, who embodied the spirit of Chicago jazz, though he’d been living in Florida for decades; 90-year-old trumpeter ArtHoyle, who had played for everyone fromSun Ra and Red Saunders to Ella Fitzgerald, Tony Bennett and Peggy Lee; 72-year-old saxophonist Richie Cole, whose nearly frenetic, emotionally charged performances helped explain why he’d called his band Alto Madness; 93-year-old saxophonist JimmyHeath, a bebop master fromone of jazz’s most esteemed families; 78-year-old trumpeter and jazz polymath Bob Ojeda, who could play, compose, arrange, conduct and more at the highest levels; 87-year-old pianist LarryNovak; and 71-year-old
saxophonist-educatorMark Colby.
In classical music, 2020was to have been the year theworld celebrated Ludwig van Beethoven’s 250th birthday, the offerings to have included a new recorded cycle of Beethoven’s nine symphonies from CSO music director RiccardoMuti and his beloved orchestra. Beethoven’s music will endure, of course, but the privilege of hearing live performances by variousmusicians of all his symphonies, piano sonatas, concertos, chamberworks and other pieces in proximity would have given us new insights into a towering musical mind and a fervent champion of human rights.
Lost, too, was Lyric Opera of Chicago’s long-planned “Ring” cycle ofWagner operas, summertime symphonies at the Ravinia and Grant Park music festivals, performances byMusic of the Baroque and other Chicago ensembles, plus a holiday season’s worth ofHandel’s indispensable “Messiah.”
But the yearwasn’t totally about loss. Chicago’s musicians would not allowthat.
Aswe flipped on our computer screens, we sawChicago Opera Theater dare to give the first performance of Stacy Garrop and JerreDye’s “The Transformation of Jane Doe” in a livestreamed concert reading. Thiswas tempting fate, considering all themoving parts involved in the Studebaker Theater production: vocalists, instrumentalists, technical crew and rolling subtitles. But
fate did not dare interrupt this venture, whichwasmore notable for its soaring score, ingenious libretto and inspired musical performances than for minor flaws in lighting and camera angles.
We also sawHaymarket Opera bravely take itswork into the realm of cinema, with a sumptuously filmed concert reading of Handel’s “Acis and Galatea.” This didn’t convey the thrill of a live performance, but it made up for it via the production’s high polish, a feast towatch.
The Chicago Sinfonietta offered aworld premiere; Lyric Opera music director designate EnriqueMazzola provided a tutorial on Verdi’s “Attila”; and the CSO, LyricOpera and Ravinia, Grant Park andHyde Park Jazz Festivals all did what they do best — online.
As always, the Sinfonietta stood at the forefront locally and nationally in bringing diversity, equity and inclusion into the Eurocentricworld of classical music. More than 35% of the orchestra is staffed by musicians of color, and over 45% of those arewomen, according to the Sinfonietta. Its audience is on average 46% people of color (specifically 37% African American, 5% Latino and4% Asian). Equally striking: 58% of the board, 73% of the associate board and 36% of the staff are people of color.
No major orchestra in America comes close to this kind of representation, and whenwe come out of the pandemic, these institutions need to findways to better reflect the communities in which they’re based. It’s an age-old problem for classical music, but one that no longer can be ignored.
Amid the multiple challenges posed by the pandemic, perhaps the most quixotic gesture of all came frommembers of the CSO and Lyric OperaOrchestra. They joined forces to perform a socially distanced, live concert outdoors on a block ofNorth Elmwood Avenue in Oak Park during IndependenceDayweek. Neighbors brought lawn chairs or sat on the curb, teenagers cruised by on their bikes and roller skates, kids and pets played on the grass to the accompaniment of John Philip Sousa marches, Louis Armstrong classics and African American spirituals.
Herewas living proof of musicians’ irrepressible desire to perform and listeners’ fervent need to attend, in the flesh.
Events like this obviouslywon’t be possible this winter, but the aforementioned virtual performances foreshadowed live concerts yet to come. True, some clubs will not survive; some ensembleswill disappear; and, alas, some musicians will turn to other professions.
But if the Chicago scene has proved nothing else in the past nine months, it showed that itwill not be stopped.
When the music-making returns for real, surely listeners will flock to it again.