Welcome to the first Jazz Journalists Association online forum for 2003.

This evening, the topic is jazz biography.

Are we truly in a Golden Age of jazz bios?

What does it take to write a comprehensive, entertaining biography?

What are the pitfalls? The pleasures?

What are the stories behind the stories?

How do you sell an idea for a jazz bio? Who’s buying? Which jazz artists attract interest, and which don’t?

Hopefully, over the next three hours, we’ll cover it all and more.

This evening’s panelists (some of whom will be joining us in progress) are:

Donald Clarke: author of Billie Holiday: Wishing On The Moon.

Leslie Gourse: author of biographies of Joe Williams, Nat King Cole, Sarah Vaughan, Thelonious Monk, Wynton Marsalis, and Carmen McRae, and others.

Howard Mandel: author of Future Jazz and president of the Jazz Journalists Association.

Lara Pellegrinelli: doctoral candidate in ethnomusicology at Harvard University and a frequent contributor to JazzTimes.

Lewis Porter: author of John Coltrane: His Life and Music, editor of A Lester Young Reader.

David Ritz: author of Faith in Time: The Life of Jimmy Scott and Divided Soul: The Life of Marvin Gaye, and co-author of Brother Ray: Ray Charles' Own Story.

Alyn Shipton: author of Fats Waller: Cheerful Little Earful and Groovin’ High: The Life of Dizzy Gillespie.

Stephanie Stein Crease: author of Gil Evans: Out of the Cool.

W. Royal Stokes: author of Living the Jazz Life: Conversations with Forty Musicians About Their Careers in Jazz.

John Szwed: author of Space Is The Place: The Lives and Times of Sun Ra and So What: The Life of Miles Davis.

Paul Tingen: author of Miles Beyond: Miles Davis, 1967-1991.

Scott Yanow: author of numerous books, including Swing, Bebop, Afro-Cuban Jazz, Classic Jazz and Trumpet Kings.

I am immensely grateful for any number of books that have come along in the last decade or so, about Benny Goodman, Duke Ellington, Andy Razaf, Sun Ra, all kinds of people; and then there is the stuff out of left field: entire books about classic albums; Friedwald's The Song Is You, entirely about the Sinatra recording sessions; and Dick Sudhalter's Lost Chords, one of the richest books ever written in our field, effectively a great many biographies gathered together... There are more good books than time to read them.

To write a comprehensive, entertaining biography, which is what I always try to do, rather than a primarily critical work, I always seek out the musicians my subject worked with. It becomes more and more difficult to do this, to interview them, because so many of them have died. Sparky Tavares, who was Nat Cole's road manager for years, was like manna from heaven. If I were to try to write Nat's biography now that Sparky is dead, and Spark y knew Nat better than anyone, I would not have the same information or corrections in my work or insights into the subject. And he is just one example. The same goes for Johnny Miller; I really don't know if he is still living, but I believe I got to him through another musician who is not living now , and in general all the trails become harder to find. (It's time for people to write biographies of thee Cedar Walton and Wayne Shorter generations, becausee there are relaiable sources. But publishers don't have the interest. )I love to interview people who lived through events with the subject. So having Billy Taylor to tell me about the early days with Art Blakey in one case and Monk in another was invaluable. So for me, that kind of help is iincredibly important. You can't make it up, you can't use hearsay, you can't theorize these tales. You need people who lived in the situation.

I use whatever relevant material comes to hand to make my story entertaining, and I believe I have been criticized for that, for aiming to write entertaining biographies for a wider audience, but that is what I like to do, to write about the man, or woman, as well as the music. I believe I write a social, economic, and cultural history of the times in which they lived and worked.Of course I also like to let people know what the artists sounded like. I think it was invaluable for Whitney Balliett to mention Billie Holiday's staccatto (or stacatto--I can't spell that word readily) notes. That made Billie's sound come alive on paper. I think it's important to have the sound translated into words to the degree that the author has the skill to do that. I don't believe in writing analytical treatises; that is the business of the musicologist, and a musicologist is not an entertaining biographer-storyteller usually. There are many ways to approach an artist, and an author should decide what he or she wants to stress or what he or she would be best at amphsizing. Also, I think authors should persuade themselves to leave out material that makes the book too long and too nitpicking and even dull in the end. A dull book even if it is chock full of facts persuades readers to skip huge passages and even gives jazz writing a bad name. Try to get a jazz book reaviewed in the New York Review of Books, an you have a case. In part the problem is that the heads of that publication are into poets and that sort of thing, and musicains are a breed apart for them, especailly jazz musicians. So anything a writer can do to make a book readalble and wel written might be alble to help the case of jazz literature. I don't think it is comletely legitmized yet.

So that I won't be criticizing a fellow, living writer, I'll criticize Miles Davis for repeating himself three times at least in every paragraph and cursiing all along the way. It became overkill and boring. Some of my fellow writers have their own ways of becoming turgid and obscure. We can take lessons from Louis Armstrong, who knew how to tell a story. Maybe some of this -- what's needed -- is story telling talent and common sense and a sensitivity to the reader. You have to reach out to your friends, the readers. Have mercy on them. My own writing teacher in college, who was one of the people in the new criticism movement, used to tell me that readers are stupid. I don't know about that. But don't write sentences that you can wrap around a redwood tree trunk three times. Now that's not a rule, some writers can write very long sentences and do a great job. There are no rules. But common sense siupported by technical know how and story telling ability are paramount. So now I'm repeating myself.

So I guess I am talking about pitfalls by this time, to some extent.

Sometimes there are stories behind the stories, things that I have to hide, and to the extent that I can hide things without throwing away facts, I accommodate my sources. I know very well why Gonilla, Nat Cole's girflfriend, wanted her identity kept hidden, and I accommodated her. I know that someone else who traveled with Cole told me stuff that might not have been as true as it was entertaining; I couldn't be sure, and so I let my common sense prevail. Or my moral awareness. For another example, people said some demeaning things about maria Cole and motherhood, but the speakers botched up their kids's lives so much that I had to take their opinions with a grain of salt. One woman had a son killed in prison and a daughter thrown out of a car and killed that wa yin Los Angeles, and so that mother could not criticize Maria to me; I kept my mouth shut,; I know when a person's judgment isn't all it should be. Oh, I have endless criteria that guide me by now, after having spent so many years interviewing people, and I spent quite a lot of years interviewing peoplee before I ever started to write jazz z biographies. So the more experience you have in interviewing people and doing research and the better you are as a reporter -- for the type of work I purport do -- the more authoritative your book can be. And then there are simply amusing and/or educating things that have happened to me in my pursuit of the stories of people's lives. I have learned so much about life from musicians. I am really in their debt. Please forgive my typographical errors.

I really don't know how you sell a jazz biography. I thnk that with any kind of writing or subject, unless you come from a very well connected background, you have to persist on your own beyond all reason. Of course, if you ara going to pick an obscure artist -- obscure in rhe perception of the general public -- and try to convince the major publishers to publish you, you are silly. It gets more difficult to sell jazz biograhies. For one thing, the publishers haven't put much effort into the marketing of the onex they published in past years, and then they blame the writer. Anyone who loves the product he or she is trying to sell -- and I mean the business people, not the writers -- can sell jazz books well. So the result is anyone trying to sell a jazz biography now for a good advance has a tough row to how in the adult marketplace.

I think people with independent means, or steady jobs, will find it easier to publish a jazz biography of value with a small press, because the advances are so low that they make it very difficul for someone relying on writing for a lliving to turn out a good book.

I thnk I've already said that. No need to repeat myself.

Sometimes it takes years to sell a jazz biography. If you want to try to do it, just stay with it.

Among the pitfalls of writing a biography is knowing what to leave out. You can tell in a good biography that the writer knows more than he's putting in: the half-truth, the unsupportable gossip, the sensational for its own sake can be left out, but it might shed light so that the author feels more confident about handling the subject. (At least he/she knows what the subject had to put up with!)

Among the pleasures? The excuse to listen to the records over and over again. Trying to do justice to someone whose work you love. Meeting people who will share their memories with you, sometimes making life-long friends in the process. Getting a compliment from a reader when the work is done.

What’s your take? Is it easier to sell a jazz biography to a publisher these days? Is the market better? Are the jazz bios themselves better?

How do you balance the music and the musician?

Also: As jazz listeners, I think we tend to nod our heads and say 'Oh yeah, I heard that music but I didn't know those were the circumstances around it.' Do we hear the musicians' music differently after reading the life?

Having said this, writing about music is not straightforward, and certainly how to balance the music and the musician is one of the major conundrums for a jazzbiographer. In my book on Miles's electric period (Miles Beyond, the Electric Explorations of Miles Davis, 1967-1991), I struggled with this quite a bit, since there was so much to say about this previously rather neglected music, yet many aspects of Miles's life and personality were absolutely relevant to the book. For instance in the way he led his bands, or how drug use and relationships with women influenced his music.

I think every biographer will have to make a decision very early on whether his or her book is primarily going to be chronicle of the work his or her subject is known for, or a description of the personality behind the work, and hence the focus will predominantly be on talking to family and friends and lovers and so on. I think it's hard to genuinely walk a middle way.

What I think this issue throws up is the problem of how to write interestingly about music, and not turn a book into a kind of trainspotting musicologist's guide. I would suggest that the answer is in telling stories... Behind every session, every new direction an artist takes or creative decision an artist makes, every piece of music, there are stories. Describing these can be interesting in their own right, and will hopefully also throw different light on the music. As someone wrote to me a while back: if a biography makes you go back to the music and listen to it from a new perspective, the book has done its work from a musical point of view, even if one might disagree with the particular perspectives offered.

PS. Like Alyn (hi Alyn), I'm jumping in early, since it's way past normal bedtime here in the UK, and so I will log off before too long as well...

Perhaps it stemmed a bit from one-too-many shabbat dinners when I'd be asked to explain (again and again) who Miles was, what instrument he played, etc. -- that I decided there could (should?) be a readership for jazz bios that went beyond the usual fanbase.

But to be able to do it in a way that didn't dumb down the text and make it read like junior adult writing was another guiding directive . . . allowing the language of music to explain itself in context could well invite an otherwise layman -- the self-conscious outsider -- into the "club."

The balance of music and musician is a line-by-line, word-by-word thing that has to be created as one writes . . . and gets edited.

Is it possible to sell biographies of artists who aren’t household names?

I believe the answer ultimately lies with the writer. Whether its to be a purely academic treatment of say, Herbie Nichols, or a full-blown, 360-degree accounting of Eric Dolphy (or some approach in-between) I’ve found that most editors are concerned with the writer-ly aspects above all else . . . can the writer pull it off, research-wise and length-wise? Can he/she develop and stick to a "voice" that compels the reader along? How much editing, "cleaning up" and other involvement will be necessary, putting a demand on the editor’s time and energy?

As editors search out the answers to these questions in the book proposal in front of them – and the writer’s body of work – it really does depend on the writer to convey his/her own abilities while arguing the unique and perhaps universal attributes of . . . yes, maybe Don Cherry.

I would second what Ashley wrote here, I did not feel at any stage that my editor tried to push me into directions that he felt would make the book more commercial. I suspect the jazz book market is too small for a book purely to be published because of the subject and/or angle. The editor's first concern will be: 'can he or she do it?' And I'm guessing that the capacity to tell a story is paramount, and that a well-told story of a less-known musician will still see the light of day. Interesting question someone asked there though: can a 'boring' person make interesting music? Has anyone written a biog on someone whose music they find fascinating, but whose life and personality made them fall asleep?

Also, wasn't Peter Keepnews doing a Monk book?

Lara's point is a good one too . . . I think there is almost NO instance when the subject of study (or whomever or whatever survives) should not be approached. You never know what you'll get . . . or not. But it's easier to edit out the too-rosy-to-be-true memories than explain afterwards why one didn't pursue an obvious research path.

Did I try to reach Teresa Brewer -- Bob Thiele's widow -- while researching Impulse Records? You betcha. Any luck -- not yet . . .

As to the question of funding . . . from my limited experience, once the deal's done, the writer's on his/her own. All research costs (phone, travel, etc.), editorial services (translating, transcribing, etc.), supplies (tape, recording equipment), even licensing of images inside the book (bookcovers are still the responsibility of the publisher) is in the writer's hands . . . needless to say, nailing down a good deal at the outset -- or having an agent do it for one -- is important. Part oft he process is factoring in all these hidden (or not so) costs . . .

I'm going to sign off soon, but just to elaborate on a few of the points made (which overlap a question Alan asked in another thread), yes, once the contract is signed the writer is on his own. A first-time writer is lucky to get an advance, but even more experienced writers will rarely get advances that will cover living and other expenses for the whole duration of writing. In my case my 36 months amounted to about to about a year working full-time (the last 6 months up to 16 hours a day, 6 days a week), but I also for a long time continued my regular job as a music journalist. My advance didn't even cover me for the first year. Thanks for the kudo, Ashley... but not all of the book was done in Ecosse... I spent a year in the US (some of it in NY, most of it in California) researching and in part writing the book...

To return to the topic of this thread, I would agree that if a subject is still alive, interviewing the person, or at least attempting to, is essential. The pitfall can be that one may get too close to one's subject, and lose one's objectivity, or is at the receiving end of pressure to write more rosy. Alternatively, and I've had this experience with a a couple of favorite artists I've interviewed over the years, sometimes one may unexpectedly find the artist intensely unpleasant as a person, and this can get in the way... either cloud one's objectivity, and/or make the writing of the book/article, and/or listening to the subject's music, a lot less fun.

Lara makes an excellent point, but funding is a big issue, depending on the type of book you're doing. That said, you could certainly see an as-told-to book like Miles' autobio working in the way you imagine.

But in general I've found that selling books is a hard-sell even at readings in bookstores; most publishers won't make the effort to help set them up outside of a writer's hometown because 10-20 copies sold at each event is not worth it. At clubs where folks are already hit by cover and minimums . . . a $20 to $30 charge for a book (or whatever the price would be) is a lot to ask.

I think the idea of putting together a book is not a bad one . . . but like many music-makers out there who find themselves playing the role of artist and record compoany, the question is do you want to be a writer and a publisher . . . and how far are you willing to take the latter (multiple titles? harcovers? presence in Borders and on Amazon.com?)

Manufacturing the book -- that's another thing -- and what I was addressing in my last post . . .

Eric

I'm wondering if any of the authors here feel that a similar standard is applied to musical biographies and the choice of subjects?

Pollock has many of the same problems, though Ed Harris seems to have at least tried to give an idea of why Pollock mattered... that breathtaking panorama shot of one of his works.... stunning!

For latecomers, you can keep posting… this will all get cleaned up and archived.

Thanks to all who participated, and in particular Alyn Shipton, who had a tragedy in his family to deal with, Paul Tingen, who was up WAY LATE at night in Scotland, feeding the baby, and Lewis Porter, who has to move first thing in the morning.

And thanks to Whit for making the technology run smoothly.

Our next forum – in early February – will address Latin jazz and what that encompasses. Should Brazilian jazz have a separate category in the JJA Awards? What about Afro-Cuban jazz versus that from the Dominican Republic? Should be steamy, in more ways than one.

Join us if you can. Stay tuned to www.jazzhouse.org for details.