Written by Harmony Lehman
“You know
I sure would like to write a blues
you know
a nice long blues
you know
a good feeling piece to my writing hand
you know
my hand that can bring two pieces of life together in your ear…
you know
if i could write a nice long blues
you know
it sure would feel good to my writing hand
you know
you know
you know.”
-Jayne Cortez, “You Know (For the people who speak the you know language)”
Writing is a gateway for the soul: and oftentimes our souls are broken and hurting things. The need to write the blues--as Jayne Cortez so eloquently illustrates--is a need to reflect and understand the sadness that you carry. It’s a relief to write; it’s a relief to hear; it’s a relief to perform. The blues are a space for sadness. They’re a space to dwell in that grief long repressed by African Americans. However, during the Black Arts Movement, the blues were cast aside in favor of angrier music. They were categorized by authors such as Maulana Karenga as useless, not furthering the revolution, rather spending unnecessary time on struggles supposedly passed. Yet Karenga’s view on the blues is limited and one-dimensional, failing to acknowledge the complexities in blues music and poetry.
Karenga assumes that an acceptance of the poor conditions of African Americans during the Harlem Renaissance is reflected in the blues. He writes, “Therefore, we say the blues are invalid: for they teach resignation, in a word acceptance of reality--and we have come to change reality.” Yet, this is a superficial reading of blues poems; hope is one of the central ideas in the blues. In Langston Hughes’ “Blues Fantasy,” he represents the blues, curiously, as a happy experience as well as one of sorrow. Hughes, in the second-to-last stanza, writes, “Got a railroad ticket, / Pack my trunk and ride / And when I get on the train / I’ll cast my blues aside.” This is a direct contrast to what Karenga defined as the blues. Hughes imagines the blues as not an acceptance of reality, but a hope for a new one. Music cannot be hopeful if there is not an acknowledgement of the current pain one is undergoing; in other words, what Karenga fails to understand is that acknowledging is not accepting. In fact, one of the main ways slaves rebelled when they were severely dehumanized and objectified was through hope. The slaves overcame the radical hardships that the African Americans during the BAM still must reckon with. Whether this was through the enslaved people’s recounting of the stories of the Israelites being freed in Exodus, or through building loving families, slaves maintained a hope for a better future. Hope keeps us human.
I believe that many of those who renounced the blues during the Black Arts Movement could have benefited more than they realize from these sad tunes. Madhubuti’s poem honoring Coltrane, “Don’t Cry, Scream,” describes his music: “Your music is like/ my head -- nappy black/ / a good nasty feel with/ tangled songs of.” The main reason people loved Coltrane’s jazz was because they could identify with it--through his music, they felt seen and heard. To indulge in jazz was to indulge in community. Jazz was an artform that required the participation of everyone involved: whether that be those listening and interpreting what the music means to them, those playing the jazz, or anyone in between. It therefore seems counterintuitive that they denounced the blues so flippantly, for poets felt similarly about the blues. Countee Cullen’s “Colored Blues Singer” depicts the heart that must be poured out in order to produce the blues. She writes, “You make your grief a melody / And take it by the hand.” This acknowledgement that the musician must put their all into producing real blues exemplifies the communal aspect that the blues provides. This experience allows for a group of people to feel seen and heard, similar to how Coltrane’s jazz, an inherently communal experience, brings people together through a shared rage or conviction.
(A bunch of blues artists during the Harlem Renaissance, sharing that community. https://www.thecollector.com/harlem-renaissance-arts-and-culture/)
Hope is not a feeling typically associated with anger; it is a quieter, steadier emotion. It is one of waiting, one of dreamers and artists. To discard this as useless is a mistake. While the blues being written for a whiter audience than Coltrane’s jazz is a perhaps rational criticism of the validity of blues, that definition ignores much of what the blues truly was. Karenga and many of his contemporaries felt the need to simplify the blues into just one aspect of its complex identity. As I did in my previous blog, I want to warn about defining art in rigid ways. These oversimplified definitions don't always simply result in a small misconception--they evolve, they develop. Defining the blues without the word “hope” was, I believe, the major mistake, but perhaps the real mistake was in defining them at all, and, within that, discarding them as “usefuless”’ art. Art has meaning through the beholder, so perhaps if all those beholding a form of art decide it is useless, it is such. Yet art also has meaning through the artist; therefore the very act of creating is a use in and of itself. How can any kind of art not be useful?
You do a great job weaving together Cortez, Hughes, and Madhubuti to push back on Karenga’s narrow reading of the blues. I especially like how you frame hope as a quiet but radical force; that really brings your argument alive and makes it active. One thing you might strengthen is the transition between your analysis and the Harlem Renaissance image—tying it more directly into your point about community would make the ending feel even tighter. Overall, really lovely work!!
ReplyDeleteHi Harmony, I really enjoyed reading your blog as I think it effectively showed the hopefulness that the blues contributed which helped strengthen communities. Though it is perhaps a calmer or "quieter" motion, I appreciate how you thought about it open-mindedly and illustrated the impact it still has- even if it's not an angry protest it still brings power. I think this overall question of art's usefulness is also constantly relevant and up for discussion today because of how subjective it is. It reminds me of how a lot of people look down on modern art as random and/or therefore meaningless, but truly it heavily depends on how it is perceived by audiences and I agree with you that any form of art must have a kind of meaning through the artist's creation process, and even if it is seldom understood by others it must at least have some sort of usefulness for the artist themself.
ReplyDeleteHello Harmony. Your insightful interpretation of blues poems shows the timelessness of blues. While I had read the story without the timelessness of blues, your alternative reading challenges me to think about blues with their timelessness. I wonder, though, how you think the popularity of blues would complicate this reading.
ReplyDeleteHi Harmony! I love the way you capture nuance in blues and how interpretation is meant to be in the eye of the beholder without rigid definitions or critiques. You make great points about how blues often represents hope rather than giving in to struggle, and I agree that being able to genuinely create music from the soul and share it with a community is something that made blues incredibly powerful. Overall, really great blog!
ReplyDeleteHi Harmony! I love this blog! I completely agree with your argument that blues contain hope despite what critics say. When I read Karenga's foreword talking about blues, I thought it sort of disregarded the entirety of what blues encapsulates, and I'm glad you showed how blues have been used to positively reflect on Black struggles as opposed to how it's often viewed. I wonder what you would say about the evolution of music genres from the Harlem Renaissance into modern-day reflections of the music and how they would represent this theme of hope!
ReplyDeleteGosh Harm, this was beautiful. The way you hold Karenga accountable with the examples of Hughes' poetry, your descriptions of the language and the feeling of the whole genre, the way you dismiss the concept of limiting art are all so well-executed. I completely agree, sadness is unrelenting and tireless but having living and creating and art means having hope--- always having hope.
ReplyDeleteHi Harmony I really liked your blog as it focused on a thought I had when reading Karenga's works for the first time. When Karenga stated that blues are invalid I was a bit infuriated. This was because the blues being invalid is a stupid claim to make especially if other artists are making connections towards the genre. The genre also evolved into many different forms of expression in the Black community and today with music.
ReplyDeleteHey Harmony! I really enjoyed the amount of reflection that went into this post: it's very thought-provoking! I also thought the generally negative sentiments towards blues that were expressed during the Black Arts Movement were rather curious. They stood for so much more than sadness or reservedness--they inspired a generation of Black artists and the whole Black community and, as you say, inspired hope as well as so many unnamed emotions. Really well done!
ReplyDeleteHarmony, I found your analysis of the importance of community in Blues intriguing. I agree that often times critics of previous periods oversimplify movements to make space for new ones, but there can often be a need for a push to change. You address the importance of accepting art as art, but in a sense, art must at some level serve its community (while actively engaging in it). In that way, I think Karenga and other critics of the Blues movement have some basis, where Blues music cannot fully last as an art form for the Black community.
ReplyDeleteHi Harmony, I have to say, your analysis on Karenga’s viewpoint of blues and the reality of blues is so well done I found myself disappointed when I finished reading (as there was no more.) The general consensuses that the blues was simply a way from black people to 'grovel' and 'take away from the revolution through its act of not furthering it' is one that honestly irks me. Just because something has a sad tone, because of its talk of horrid moments and emotions in history, doesn't mean it isn't 'furthering the revolution' simply because it isn't loud and undeniable. If anything, it is in the softer sadder moments that make people think of the past, and only when we accept the past can we make motions to rectify the future.
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