by Clive Powell
Artistic Director - Jazz Alive
Methodology
In my efforts to discuss the statement above and arrive at an informed conclusion, I have
reviewed relevant secondary information sources including published articles, books, book
reviews, website blogs and conduct a primary source interview with a key practitioner of BBJ
(Black British Jazz).i
The historical context of black jazz heritage
Several studies show us that the lineage of jazz in the British Isles can be traced beyond the
landmark date of the arrival from America of the controversial all-white Original Dixieland
Jazz Band (ODJB) in April 1919. There are numerous precedents like ragtime, blues,
vaudeville songs and even minstrelsy (that continued well into the early 1970’s, with the
BBC’s televised program, “the Black and White Minstrel Show”) that could be considered
early forms of the jazz idiom. Rye (1990) traces the lineage beyond 1919 stating, “there is no
clear dividing line, either in fact or in public consciousness, between the [black] minstrelsy of
the nineteenth century and those forms of Afro-American music which have been known
since 1920 as jazz and blues” (p. 45). Shipton (2001) concurs with Rye and asserts, “in
reality the syncopated orchestra had got their first” (p.52). According to Mckay ( 2005),
Shipton is referring to: “James Reese Europe’s Hellfighters and Will Vodery’s black band in
the war theatre in 1918 and then Will Marion Cook in London in the following year” (p.132).
This ongoing contestation as to who first introduced jazz to Britain is not purely a matter of
fact in terms of precedent and dates, but also a matter of ownership and heritage which later
affected the identity of modern jazz and its common interpretation, communication and
implementation. Since, in 1919 two bands arrived separately to play in London. One, the all
white New Orleanians , Original Dixieland Jazz Band (ODJB) in April and the other, the
black Southern Syncopated Orchestra (SSO) in June. The former are much reported to have
claimed to have even invented jazz and despite the very different performance styles,
repertoire, audiences, exposure and levels of popular success of both groups, Parsonage
(2005) acknowledges that both of these groups were “vital to the evolution of jazz in Britain”
(p.160). Somewhat controversially, Parsonage concludes her analysis of the ODJB and SSO
by stating it was the SSO and not the ODJB “which received serious musical criticism that
began to establish black music and jazz as significant art forms in the twentieth century”
(p.162).
Furthermore, the historical context of the arrival of jazz on British shores is pertinent to the
way jazz was interpreted and received by the majority of people. The highly racialised
discourse that was evident in reviews of early jazz band performances was set against a
backdrop of Empire. As Mckay (2005) points out, “concurrent with the American music
imports of 1919 that we now know sounded a hegemonic shift, was the late, last high point of
the British Empire” (p.105). Mckay is referring to the League of Nations mandate system for
allocating the spoils of victory from the First World War. The enlarged empire with its new
African colonies from defeated Germany effectively resulted in “over 600 million people
ruled from London” (p.105). This public racialised discourse of jazz with its added racialised
stereotypes and hyper-exoticisation of early jazz is analogous to the earlier discourse at the
turn of the century, concerning the representation and communication of the peoples of the
colonies and the wider debate around the suitable mode of classification of ethnographical
material within public museums. Coombes refers to the impact of the popular National and
International Trade and Colonial exhibitions between 1900 and 1910 upon the popular
consciousness and imagination of Empire and the peoples of the colonies. This success,
together with the 1902 Education Act, focused concern on the problem of attracting a larger
and more diverse public to visit museums.
Coombes (1998) refers to the extremely popular and well-attended exhibitions with their
‘mock villages’ providing ‘vicarious tourism’ about people of the colonies. Reminding us that
the broader imperial mission at the time was to present an image of an Empire that would,
“provide the panacea for all ills” through the instrumental policy of “social imperialism”
whereby “all classes could be comfortably incorporated into a program of expansionist
economic policy in the colonies, coupled with the promise of social reforms at home” (p.55).
What is interesting about these two comparative discussions about Empire, museums and jazz
is the strikingly similar use of the theme of threat and subversion from the colonies, to notions
of Empire. As Mckay points out, “at this time in Britain black jazz was articulated as a threat
within the framework of the imperial experience” (p. 107). It would seem that the theme of
threat and subversion to notions of Empire endured from the National and International Trade
and Colonial exhibitions between 1900 and 1910, through to the import of jazz in 1919 and
into the early 1920’s and 1930’s. However, this dominant theme of threat was itself made
available for re-interpretation and challenge, as illustrated by a painting by John B Souter,
which is discussed in the next section.
Interpretation and communication of black jazz
In the spring of 1926, a neo-classical painting by the artist, John B Souter, was displayed by
the Royal Academy of Arts in London. The painting, titled, ‘Breakdown’ (see Figure 1),
depicted a black jazz saxophonist in evening dress, sitting on a broken, seemingly, Greek
statue, accompanied by a goddess styled dancing figurine whom appears hypnotised by the
playing. According to differing accounts, Moore (2007) claims it hung for “a day” (p.20)
while Parsonage (2005) says it was “only five days” (p.188). Despite being viewed by the
then king, George V and commended as “a work of great promise executed with a
considerable degree of excellence” by the President of the Royal Academy, the picture was
removed under instruction of the Colonial Office. Parsonage (2005) says the reason for this is
because it “was considered to be obnoxious to British subjects living abroad in daily contact
with a coloured population”. Moore (2007) says there is “limited detailed information about
the interpretation of the painting” (p.20) but offers an interpretation which concurs with my
aforementioned reference to Empire as a context for social imagining, stating, “the decline of
Empire is perhaps the most fundamental, encapsulating a specifically British process of social
and political change” (p.20). While Parsonage (2005) rather more indicative of the prevailing
social narrative about jazz of the time, comments, “the corrupting influence of jazz as a black
music is clearly implied in this painting” (p.188). Despite both comments reflecting the
prevailing historical context and social narrative of the time, I would like to offer a re-
interpretation and re-imagining of the painting, not too dissimilar from Moore’s idea. If the
painting is seen within the historical context of a new wave of globalisation challenging a
weakening British Empire, bringing with it, both an impending cultural change and import
from the “New World”, jazz is used as a symbol of that change in both a literal and
metaphorical way. It is used in a literal way in terms of a change of power dynamics.
However, it is also metaphorical, in terms of the emergence of a new phenomenon that
challenges and subverts prevailing aesthetic and social norms and values but also, more
importantly, it captivates, enchants (referring to the effect upon the goddess styled dancing
figurine) and innovates a new syncretised cultural aesthetic.
Interestingly, almost a generation after the National and International Trade and Colonial
exhibitions between 1900 and 1910 (which propagated the notion of a “social imperialism”
and in which the image of colonial subjects was largely accepted as ‘primitive’ and
‘threatening’), the new wave of threat, symbolised in Souter’s painting as the import of jazz
music, conflated both race and power. The racialised image of jazz in the form of the male
saxophonist in evening dress, delineated jazz as of clearly black or African-American
heritage. This symbol of a new emerging power, challenging the faltering British Empire,
jarred with the ‘primitive’ stereotype of Black British colonial subjects contained within the
National and International Trade and Colonial exhibitions. This awkwardness and jarring of
jazz, not solely racially, but more significantly, socially and aesthetically, is a theme that has
characterised jazz music through its various musical transformations and is a theme I will
expand upon in the next section. Despite this, the consistent theme associated with both the
exhibitions and of Souter’s use of jazz, is of a threat to the established order. This appears to
have persisted as an enduring and unfaltering theme for almost a generation, from jazz’s first
major appearance in 1919. Ironically, Sir J.J Shannon, lent by Violet Duchess of Rutland,
replaced Souter’s painting with a portrait of Lady Diana Manners. According to Mckay
(2005), this swift replacement of the painting, symbolising “a desire to re-establish the
dominant order after its temporary breakdown” (p.108).
Almost a generation after Souter’s painting, a new post-war British society was emerging and
British jazz identity succumbed to the musical influences and cultures of mass immigrants
from its former colonies. This unprecedented process of syncretisation partly explains the
emergence of a post-modern black British jazz identity and aesthetic. This aesthetic has, over
time, served to contribute to the usurping and transgressing of popular dominant notions of
race and class in modern Britain and has in the process, transformed British jazz identity. It is
also symbolic of a captivating force for social change in modern Britain. As Mckay (2005)
attests, “at key international political moments concerning Britain – colonial independence,
black migration, [feminism, 1960’s counterculture and liberation movements], the anti-
apartheid struggle – jazz musicians have contributed to the cultural and political expression of
racial celebration (black) and the problematic (white) alike” (p.35).
The initial contested identity and ownership of jazz music provided the context for the
framing of common notions of both British jazz and black British jazz. A narrative of identity
and ownership emerges, which is moderated and transformed by new forms of contested
identity and ownership. This occurred during the early 1930’s with the emergence of black
jazz musicians from the former colonies, like Leslie Thompson, Ken ‘Snake hips’ Johnson
and Leslie ‘Jiver’ Hutchinson and during the post-war period of the 1960s which witnessed
mass immigration from former British colonies (black British jazz pioneer Joe Harriot arrived
in London in the 1960’s) together with seismic cultural and social shifts in Britain from
global changes.
Having analysed the initial racialised image of the import of jazz within the context of the
threat of the decline of Empire, in the next section I will describe the impact of this
interpretation of jazz upon the identity of British jazz and the influence of BBJ upon this
British jazz identity and music. I will focus on the role of two seminal movements within the
evolution of BBJ and the key figures associated with them, namely Joe Harriot and his quintet
of the 1960’s and Courtney Pine’s Jazz Warriors of the 1980’s.
Black British Jazz Identity
As already discussed, the context of the import of jazz into Britain ensured a fixed
interpretation of jazz, which largely proscribed the future identity of British jazz for at least
another decade after its initial import in 1919. Parsonage (2005) claims the enormous
popularity of the all-white ODJB, in comparison to the lesser-known all-black SSO, ensured
“British Bands continuing to perpetuate this version and image of jazz [largely New Orleans
influenced] after the ODJB had left Britain” (p.160). Despite, what is commonly referred to
nowadays as ‘trad-jazz’ or traditional jazz, this being the popular representation of British
jazz at the time, this notion was challenged and overturned in the early 1930’s with the arrival
of both Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington. It was further challenged by the first ever all-
black jazz dance band of Leslie Thompson and dancer Ken ‘Snake hips’ Johnson in 1935,
both from former Black British colonies. However, by the late 1950’s Mckay (2005) writes,
the “whiteness of the traditional jazz boom” had firmly returned. Chambers (1985) also
affirms this by reminding us that, “white trad – at the time of bebop and the beginnings of
free jazz in the United States – could conveniently overlook the new black militant musical
consciousness of the times by nostalgically evoking a mythical New Orleans of around 1900”
(p.48). It wasn’t until perhaps Joe Harriot’s arrival in the 1960’s and the mission of Courtney
Pine’s Jazz Warrior’s in the 1980’s, that the prevailing narrative describing modern British
jazz identity would be transformed by a unique black British jazz aesthetic.
When explaining the interpretation of the identity and heritage of British jazz, Moore offers a
suggestion to explain the awkwardness of the category. “As an art form with black diasporic
origins and contemporary white, middle-class demographic, British jazz may fall between
two flawed categories of traditional scholarly imagining – that is, it straddles our concepts of
the ‘West and the rest’. It is perceived as both inauthentic and other, both derivative and
subversive” (p.5).
The space and agency this dichotomy has afforded has enabled the formulation of a black
British identity within British jazz, which has informed, innovated and challenged popular
notions of a common British jazz identity. This formulation, it could be argued, has
engendered the construction of a black British jazz heritage, which seeks to critique the
dominant national narrative about British jazz origins and evolution. Hall, refers to a number
of conceptual shifts required as part of the activity of constructing a heritage. Amongst these
are two, which appear relevant to BBJ. Hall (1999) states, “a growing sense of the centrality
of culture and its relation to identity” (p.23) and “a decline in the acceptance of the traditional
authorities in authenticating the interpretative and analytic frameworks which classify, place,
compare and evaluate culture” (p.23). BBJ in its construction has placed the African-
Caribbean diasporic origins of its culture as a major influence upon its musical and
intellectual identity. Equally and in a democratic manner, (which is keeping with the
quintessential jazz tradition), alongside this identity, it places the peculiarities of its plural,
diverse and syncretised British cultural identity as significant. However, this does not pre-
suppose the obvious tensions inherent in this construction of heritage. The subversive
tendency in black British jazz expression has also, clearly sought to usurp popular notions of
race and class in particular, in its attempt to redefine its own boundaries and confluence. The
emergence of a black British jazz pioneer like Joe Harriot and Courtney Pine’s Jazz Warriors,
has resulted in a re-interpretation and re-implementation of British jazz identity and music.
Joe Harriot
Joe Harriot arrived in Britain from the former British Caribbean colony of Jamaica, in 1951,
aged twenty-three. He soon stamped his authority and unique sound upon the British jazz
scene becoming instantly recognised as a major new talent. After a successful career in
London in the late 1950’s with various bands, he formed his quintet in 1958 and in 1960
released what is now considered to be his most ground-breaking album, the eponymously
named, ‘Free Form’.
‘Free-Form’, was recorded in November 1960, a month before US sax player, Ornette
Coleman’s historic and groundbreaking ‘Free Jazz’. According to Lock (2005) the
significance of the ‘Free Jazz’ album, is that it, “marked a turning point in jazz history and
gave its name to a movement that later spread around the globe” (p. 70). Despite this,
Harriots, ‘Free Form’ is now considered as equally pioneering and as seminal as Coleman’s
‘Free Jazz’. Moore (2007) asserts, “The birth of European free jazz, in fact, starts with
[Harriot’s] ‘Free Form’. She adds, “influenced only minimally by the American model”
(p.70) . In fact, Harriot dismissed as, ‘nonsense!’ , the suggestion that he was influenced by
Coleman, in an article in the prestigious US ‘Downbeat’ magazine in 1964. In November of
the preceding year, Harriot and his quintet received an achievement unequalled by any other
British group, by being awarded a five-star rating by ‘Down Beat’ magazine. This led to
more copies of the Abstract album being sold in America than in Britain. Despite this, the
expected acclaim and honours did not follow. Moore (2007) says, “one would expect
nationalistic outbursts of enthusiasm and support, but instead it was virtually ignored” ( p.93).
The Down Beat article makes reference to some degree of nationalistic fervour in support of
Harriot, “it was scarcely blind patriotism that elated British jazz fans when alto saxophonist
Joe Harriott’s album Abstract received Down Beats five-star rating last year” (p. 12).
However, the overall reception was placid. Some commentators have cited a mixture of
reasons, ranging from racism from the jazz establishment, an anachronistic and confusing
innovation, to blind preference to American jazz, over British jazz during the period.
In relation to British jazz heritage, the interpretation and communication of Harriot’s colossal
contribution to innovating jazz has been largely retrospective and sentimental by critics and
musicians. Despite this, BBC Radio 4 devoted a short series of radio programs to the life of
Harriot and his contribution to British Jazz and there has been a notable amount of publicity
and writing about Harriott over past years. Harriot’s impact and the implications for a post-
modern British Jazz identity was highlighted by jazz critique Kevin Le Gendre in his 1998
article for The Independent newspaper. Le Gendre (1998) refers to the Harriot quintet as, “a
great British group, a marvellous multi-cultural ensemble”ii (p.1).
Joe Harriott is perhaps a unique example of a post-Empire black jazz musician who innovated
a form of jazz that was not constrained within the American jazz tradition, but was firmly
located within the British experience and milieu. In this respect, Harriott was an early pioneer
of Black British jazz and a significant heritage icon. His mixed race band was also pioneering
and a statement of irreverence to the strictures of race and class at the time. Little is written
about Harriott’s stance on matters of race, class and identity, although much is noted about
his unconventional thinking and ambivalence towards conventional notions of race and class
in particular. He was perhaps the first black modern jazz musician to achieve notoriety and
qualified success through a process of negotiation of the peculiarities of his plural, diverse
and syncretised British jazz identity.
The Jazz Warriors
In the 1980’s the Jazz Warrior’s achieved unprecedented commercial success for a British
jazz collective and major record label backing, as well as a public profile that made its
members and founding member, Courtney Pine, household names, with interviews in GQ
magazine and other mainstream press.
The impact on British jazz was international and national and lauded The Jazz Warriors and
Courtney Pine in particular, as the new leaders of British jazz.
The level of success and publicity prompted a re-interpretation and re-communication of the
accepted notion of British jazz and enabled a Black British aesthetic to become a more widely
accepted addition to the assumed British jazz repertoire and canon. The later individual
success of Pine in particular, (almost becoming a new spokesperson for British jazz), meant
there was a waiting medium and new space to communicate the modern diversity of British
jazz and articulate the African Caribbean diasporic influences as well as the new forms of
syncretised jazz that were unique to a British jazz identity. The Jazz Warriors were keen to
explain their influences and the impact of their forbears to the public and in one of their first
major projects in 1989, Pine paid tribute to Joe Harriott in a tour called, ‘Homage to Joe
Harriott’. The Warrior’s pioneering achievement is often sighted as a seminal episode in the
progress and influence of black British jazz and is largely seen as responsible for the re-
implementation of modern British jazz.
Conclusion
The cultural context within which can examine the heritage of black British jazz music can be
defined by my own less prescribed and broader notion of diversity which contrasts with
current prevailing discourse which centres largely around ethnicity, gender and class. My
notion of diversity can be characterised by a number of key themes, which include an
evolving British identity due to invasions, migration, colonialism, twentieth century
globalisation and challenges from post-modernist revisionist thinkers, to Enlightenment ideals
of , as Hall (2000) puts it, “dispassionate universal knowledge” (p.25). In a similar vein,
Moore (2007) says, musicology has embarked upon a “new study of popular music alongside
the development of new critical and theoretical models” (editor’s preface). Moore (2007) also
adds, “a relativistic outlook has replaced the universal perspective of modernism” (editor’s
preface).
Within this context, over the last 60 years, BBJ has emerged as an accepted and forthright
musical idiom within the political, social and artistic landscape of British jazz. Its unique
identity and influence upon British jazz reflects its ambivalent post-Empire and post-modern
setting which provides its grounding, agency and currency within that established cultural
design. As a fringe and often marginalised art form, British jazz seeks re-invention and re-
vitalisation from all artistic quarters and musical traditions. Since its genesis in the early
1930’s, through to its maturation in the 1960’s and pronouncement in the 1980’s, BBJ has
applied its rhetorical and stylistic enhancements to British jazz in an increasingly confident
and complementary format. This pattern bodes well for the future, but given the uncertain
nature of British jazz, it is not guaranteed. For Gary Crosby (2010), the question of the future
of BBJ is seen humorously, yet wittingly:
“there aren’t that many of us here, yet we have created a sound and presence that is predicated
on a need to innovate and we haven’t done that badly to date!”iii
References and Citations
i It is acknowledged by many academics and writers that there is sparse writing about the BBJ
contribution to British jazz heritage. Moore (2007) when referring to the lack of scholarly study in this
areas states, “There is virtually no mention of the contribution of black Britons and only limited
writings on Britain’s free jazz scene”i (p.4). In light of this, I hope this essay will serve to contribute in
some small way to this much needed scholarship. My focus in this essay is not and ethnomusicology
style review of BBJ. It is more an examination of the relationship between BBJ heritage and British
jazz identity and the varying narratives, which construct notions of jazz identity and ownership and the
impact that race and class has upon this evolving inter-relationship. I am especially interested in the
relationship between BBJ and British jazz within the context of a post-colonial and post-modern British
society..
ii Le Gendre, K. 2004, “Joe Harriott: Fire in his Soul by Alan Robertson”, The Independent,
18 January, p. 1
iii Crosby,
G. (2010) Interview with Clive Powell, 16 February, London. Bassist and
composer Gary Crosby is one of the pioneers of contemporary black British jazz and founder
of acclaimed jazz music label, Dune Records.
Moore, Hilary. 2007, Inside British Jazz, Crossing Borders of Race, nation and Class,
Ashgate, England.
Rye, Howard. 1990, Fearsome Means of Discord: Early Encounters with Black Jazz.” Paul
Oliver , ed. Black music n Britain: essays on the Afro-Asian Contribution to Popular Music.
Milton Keynes: Open University Press.
Shipton, Alyn. 2001, “A New History of Jazz”, London, Continuum.
Parsonage, Catherine. 2005, the Evolution of Jazz in Britain, 1880-1935, Ashgate, England.
Mckay, George,. 2005,“Circular Breathing: The Cultural Politics of Jazz in Britain”, Duke
University Press.
Coombes, Annie., “Museums and the Formation of National and Cultural Identities”, Oxford
Art Journal, Vol 11, No 2 (1988), p 55 Published by: Oxford University Press.
Wilmer,J. 1964, “Joe Harriot Abstractionism”, Downbeat Magazine, 10 September, p.12
Figure 1 – John B Souter Breakdown
Artistic Director - Jazz Alive
Methodology
In my efforts to discuss the statement above and arrive at an informed conclusion, I have
reviewed relevant secondary information sources including published articles, books, book
reviews, website blogs and conduct a primary source interview with a key practitioner of BBJ
(Black British Jazz).i
The historical context of black jazz heritage
Several studies show us that the lineage of jazz in the British Isles can be traced beyond the
landmark date of the arrival from America of the controversial all-white Original Dixieland
Jazz Band (ODJB) in April 1919. There are numerous precedents like ragtime, blues,
vaudeville songs and even minstrelsy (that continued well into the early 1970’s, with the
BBC’s televised program, “the Black and White Minstrel Show”) that could be considered
early forms of the jazz idiom. Rye (1990) traces the lineage beyond 1919 stating, “there is no
clear dividing line, either in fact or in public consciousness, between the [black] minstrelsy of
the nineteenth century and those forms of Afro-American music which have been known
since 1920 as jazz and blues” (p. 45). Shipton (2001) concurs with Rye and asserts, “in
reality the syncopated orchestra had got their first” (p.52). According to Mckay ( 2005),
Shipton is referring to: “James Reese Europe’s Hellfighters and Will Vodery’s black band in
the war theatre in 1918 and then Will Marion Cook in London in the following year” (p.132).
This ongoing contestation as to who first introduced jazz to Britain is not purely a matter of
fact in terms of precedent and dates, but also a matter of ownership and heritage which later
affected the identity of modern jazz and its common interpretation, communication and
implementation. Since, in 1919 two bands arrived separately to play in London. One, the all
white New Orleanians , Original Dixieland Jazz Band (ODJB) in April and the other, the
black Southern Syncopated Orchestra (SSO) in June. The former are much reported to have
claimed to have even invented jazz and despite the very different performance styles,
repertoire, audiences, exposure and levels of popular success of both groups, Parsonage
(2005) acknowledges that both of these groups were “vital to the evolution of jazz in Britain”
(p.160). Somewhat controversially, Parsonage concludes her analysis of the ODJB and SSO
by stating it was the SSO and not the ODJB “which received serious musical criticism that
began to establish black music and jazz as significant art forms in the twentieth century”
(p.162).
Furthermore, the historical context of the arrival of jazz on British shores is pertinent to the
way jazz was interpreted and received by the majority of people. The highly racialised
discourse that was evident in reviews of early jazz band performances was set against a
backdrop of Empire. As Mckay (2005) points out, “concurrent with the American music
imports of 1919 that we now know sounded a hegemonic shift, was the late, last high point of
the British Empire” (p.105). Mckay is referring to the League of Nations mandate system for
allocating the spoils of victory from the First World War. The enlarged empire with its new
African colonies from defeated Germany effectively resulted in “over 600 million people
ruled from London” (p.105). This public racialised discourse of jazz with its added racialised
stereotypes and hyper-exoticisation of early jazz is analogous to the earlier discourse at the
turn of the century, concerning the representation and communication of the peoples of the
colonies and the wider debate around the suitable mode of classification of ethnographical
material within public museums. Coombes refers to the impact of the popular National and
International Trade and Colonial exhibitions between 1900 and 1910 upon the popular
consciousness and imagination of Empire and the peoples of the colonies. This success,
together with the 1902 Education Act, focused concern on the problem of attracting a larger
and more diverse public to visit museums.
Coombes (1998) refers to the extremely popular and well-attended exhibitions with their
‘mock villages’ providing ‘vicarious tourism’ about people of the colonies. Reminding us that
the broader imperial mission at the time was to present an image of an Empire that would,
“provide the panacea for all ills” through the instrumental policy of “social imperialism”
whereby “all classes could be comfortably incorporated into a program of expansionist
economic policy in the colonies, coupled with the promise of social reforms at home” (p.55).
What is interesting about these two comparative discussions about Empire, museums and jazz
is the strikingly similar use of the theme of threat and subversion from the colonies, to notions
of Empire. As Mckay points out, “at this time in Britain black jazz was articulated as a threat
within the framework of the imperial experience” (p. 107). It would seem that the theme of
threat and subversion to notions of Empire endured from the National and International Trade
and Colonial exhibitions between 1900 and 1910, through to the import of jazz in 1919 and
into the early 1920’s and 1930’s. However, this dominant theme of threat was itself made
available for re-interpretation and challenge, as illustrated by a painting by John B Souter,
which is discussed in the next section.
Interpretation and communication of black jazz
In the spring of 1926, a neo-classical painting by the artist, John B Souter, was displayed by
the Royal Academy of Arts in London. The painting, titled, ‘Breakdown’ (see Figure 1),
depicted a black jazz saxophonist in evening dress, sitting on a broken, seemingly, Greek
statue, accompanied by a goddess styled dancing figurine whom appears hypnotised by the
playing. According to differing accounts, Moore (2007) claims it hung for “a day” (p.20)
while Parsonage (2005) says it was “only five days” (p.188). Despite being viewed by the
then king, George V and commended as “a work of great promise executed with a
considerable degree of excellence” by the President of the Royal Academy, the picture was
removed under instruction of the Colonial Office. Parsonage (2005) says the reason for this is
because it “was considered to be obnoxious to British subjects living abroad in daily contact
with a coloured population”. Moore (2007) says there is “limited detailed information about
the interpretation of the painting” (p.20) but offers an interpretation which concurs with my
aforementioned reference to Empire as a context for social imagining, stating, “the decline of
Empire is perhaps the most fundamental, encapsulating a specifically British process of social
and political change” (p.20). While Parsonage (2005) rather more indicative of the prevailing
social narrative about jazz of the time, comments, “the corrupting influence of jazz as a black
music is clearly implied in this painting” (p.188). Despite both comments reflecting the
prevailing historical context and social narrative of the time, I would like to offer a re-
interpretation and re-imagining of the painting, not too dissimilar from Moore’s idea. If the
painting is seen within the historical context of a new wave of globalisation challenging a
weakening British Empire, bringing with it, both an impending cultural change and import
from the “New World”, jazz is used as a symbol of that change in both a literal and
metaphorical way. It is used in a literal way in terms of a change of power dynamics.
However, it is also metaphorical, in terms of the emergence of a new phenomenon that
challenges and subverts prevailing aesthetic and social norms and values but also, more
importantly, it captivates, enchants (referring to the effect upon the goddess styled dancing
figurine) and innovates a new syncretised cultural aesthetic.
Interestingly, almost a generation after the National and International Trade and Colonial
exhibitions between 1900 and 1910 (which propagated the notion of a “social imperialism”
and in which the image of colonial subjects was largely accepted as ‘primitive’ and
‘threatening’), the new wave of threat, symbolised in Souter’s painting as the import of jazz
music, conflated both race and power. The racialised image of jazz in the form of the male
saxophonist in evening dress, delineated jazz as of clearly black or African-American
heritage. This symbol of a new emerging power, challenging the faltering British Empire,
jarred with the ‘primitive’ stereotype of Black British colonial subjects contained within the
National and International Trade and Colonial exhibitions. This awkwardness and jarring of
jazz, not solely racially, but more significantly, socially and aesthetically, is a theme that has
characterised jazz music through its various musical transformations and is a theme I will
expand upon in the next section. Despite this, the consistent theme associated with both the
exhibitions and of Souter’s use of jazz, is of a threat to the established order. This appears to
have persisted as an enduring and unfaltering theme for almost a generation, from jazz’s first
major appearance in 1919. Ironically, Sir J.J Shannon, lent by Violet Duchess of Rutland,
replaced Souter’s painting with a portrait of Lady Diana Manners. According to Mckay
(2005), this swift replacement of the painting, symbolising “a desire to re-establish the
dominant order after its temporary breakdown” (p.108).
Almost a generation after Souter’s painting, a new post-war British society was emerging and
British jazz identity succumbed to the musical influences and cultures of mass immigrants
from its former colonies. This unprecedented process of syncretisation partly explains the
emergence of a post-modern black British jazz identity and aesthetic. This aesthetic has, over
time, served to contribute to the usurping and transgressing of popular dominant notions of
race and class in modern Britain and has in the process, transformed British jazz identity. It is
also symbolic of a captivating force for social change in modern Britain. As Mckay (2005)
attests, “at key international political moments concerning Britain – colonial independence,
black migration, [feminism, 1960’s counterculture and liberation movements], the anti-
apartheid struggle – jazz musicians have contributed to the cultural and political expression of
racial celebration (black) and the problematic (white) alike” (p.35).
The initial contested identity and ownership of jazz music provided the context for the
framing of common notions of both British jazz and black British jazz. A narrative of identity
and ownership emerges, which is moderated and transformed by new forms of contested
identity and ownership. This occurred during the early 1930’s with the emergence of black
jazz musicians from the former colonies, like Leslie Thompson, Ken ‘Snake hips’ Johnson
and Leslie ‘Jiver’ Hutchinson and during the post-war period of the 1960s which witnessed
mass immigration from former British colonies (black British jazz pioneer Joe Harriot arrived
in London in the 1960’s) together with seismic cultural and social shifts in Britain from
global changes.
Having analysed the initial racialised image of the import of jazz within the context of the
threat of the decline of Empire, in the next section I will describe the impact of this
interpretation of jazz upon the identity of British jazz and the influence of BBJ upon this
British jazz identity and music. I will focus on the role of two seminal movements within the
evolution of BBJ and the key figures associated with them, namely Joe Harriot and his quintet
of the 1960’s and Courtney Pine’s Jazz Warriors of the 1980’s.
Black British Jazz Identity
As already discussed, the context of the import of jazz into Britain ensured a fixed
interpretation of jazz, which largely proscribed the future identity of British jazz for at least
another decade after its initial import in 1919. Parsonage (2005) claims the enormous
popularity of the all-white ODJB, in comparison to the lesser-known all-black SSO, ensured
“British Bands continuing to perpetuate this version and image of jazz [largely New Orleans
influenced] after the ODJB had left Britain” (p.160). Despite, what is commonly referred to
nowadays as ‘trad-jazz’ or traditional jazz, this being the popular representation of British
jazz at the time, this notion was challenged and overturned in the early 1930’s with the arrival
of both Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington. It was further challenged by the first ever all-
black jazz dance band of Leslie Thompson and dancer Ken ‘Snake hips’ Johnson in 1935,
both from former Black British colonies. However, by the late 1950’s Mckay (2005) writes,
the “whiteness of the traditional jazz boom” had firmly returned. Chambers (1985) also
affirms this by reminding us that, “white trad – at the time of bebop and the beginnings of
free jazz in the United States – could conveniently overlook the new black militant musical
consciousness of the times by nostalgically evoking a mythical New Orleans of around 1900”
(p.48). It wasn’t until perhaps Joe Harriot’s arrival in the 1960’s and the mission of Courtney
Pine’s Jazz Warrior’s in the 1980’s, that the prevailing narrative describing modern British
jazz identity would be transformed by a unique black British jazz aesthetic.
When explaining the interpretation of the identity and heritage of British jazz, Moore offers a
suggestion to explain the awkwardness of the category. “As an art form with black diasporic
origins and contemporary white, middle-class demographic, British jazz may fall between
two flawed categories of traditional scholarly imagining – that is, it straddles our concepts of
the ‘West and the rest’. It is perceived as both inauthentic and other, both derivative and
subversive” (p.5).
The space and agency this dichotomy has afforded has enabled the formulation of a black
British identity within British jazz, which has informed, innovated and challenged popular
notions of a common British jazz identity. This formulation, it could be argued, has
engendered the construction of a black British jazz heritage, which seeks to critique the
dominant national narrative about British jazz origins and evolution. Hall, refers to a number
of conceptual shifts required as part of the activity of constructing a heritage. Amongst these
are two, which appear relevant to BBJ. Hall (1999) states, “a growing sense of the centrality
of culture and its relation to identity” (p.23) and “a decline in the acceptance of the traditional
authorities in authenticating the interpretative and analytic frameworks which classify, place,
compare and evaluate culture” (p.23). BBJ in its construction has placed the African-
Caribbean diasporic origins of its culture as a major influence upon its musical and
intellectual identity. Equally and in a democratic manner, (which is keeping with the
quintessential jazz tradition), alongside this identity, it places the peculiarities of its plural,
diverse and syncretised British cultural identity as significant. However, this does not pre-
suppose the obvious tensions inherent in this construction of heritage. The subversive
tendency in black British jazz expression has also, clearly sought to usurp popular notions of
race and class in particular, in its attempt to redefine its own boundaries and confluence. The
emergence of a black British jazz pioneer like Joe Harriot and Courtney Pine’s Jazz Warriors,
has resulted in a re-interpretation and re-implementation of British jazz identity and music.
Joe Harriot
Joe Harriot arrived in Britain from the former British Caribbean colony of Jamaica, in 1951,
aged twenty-three. He soon stamped his authority and unique sound upon the British jazz
scene becoming instantly recognised as a major new talent. After a successful career in
London in the late 1950’s with various bands, he formed his quintet in 1958 and in 1960
released what is now considered to be his most ground-breaking album, the eponymously
named, ‘Free Form’.
‘Free-Form’, was recorded in November 1960, a month before US sax player, Ornette
Coleman’s historic and groundbreaking ‘Free Jazz’. According to Lock (2005) the
significance of the ‘Free Jazz’ album, is that it, “marked a turning point in jazz history and
gave its name to a movement that later spread around the globe” (p. 70). Despite this,
Harriots, ‘Free Form’ is now considered as equally pioneering and as seminal as Coleman’s
‘Free Jazz’. Moore (2007) asserts, “The birth of European free jazz, in fact, starts with
[Harriot’s] ‘Free Form’. She adds, “influenced only minimally by the American model”
(p.70) . In fact, Harriot dismissed as, ‘nonsense!’ , the suggestion that he was influenced by
Coleman, in an article in the prestigious US ‘Downbeat’ magazine in 1964. In November of
the preceding year, Harriot and his quintet received an achievement unequalled by any other
British group, by being awarded a five-star rating by ‘Down Beat’ magazine. This led to
more copies of the Abstract album being sold in America than in Britain. Despite this, the
expected acclaim and honours did not follow. Moore (2007) says, “one would expect
nationalistic outbursts of enthusiasm and support, but instead it was virtually ignored” ( p.93).
The Down Beat article makes reference to some degree of nationalistic fervour in support of
Harriot, “it was scarcely blind patriotism that elated British jazz fans when alto saxophonist
Joe Harriott’s album Abstract received Down Beats five-star rating last year” (p. 12).
However, the overall reception was placid. Some commentators have cited a mixture of
reasons, ranging from racism from the jazz establishment, an anachronistic and confusing
innovation, to blind preference to American jazz, over British jazz during the period.
In relation to British jazz heritage, the interpretation and communication of Harriot’s colossal
contribution to innovating jazz has been largely retrospective and sentimental by critics and
musicians. Despite this, BBC Radio 4 devoted a short series of radio programs to the life of
Harriot and his contribution to British Jazz and there has been a notable amount of publicity
and writing about Harriott over past years. Harriot’s impact and the implications for a post-
modern British Jazz identity was highlighted by jazz critique Kevin Le Gendre in his 1998
article for The Independent newspaper. Le Gendre (1998) refers to the Harriot quintet as, “a
great British group, a marvellous multi-cultural ensemble”ii (p.1).
Joe Harriott is perhaps a unique example of a post-Empire black jazz musician who innovated
a form of jazz that was not constrained within the American jazz tradition, but was firmly
located within the British experience and milieu. In this respect, Harriott was an early pioneer
of Black British jazz and a significant heritage icon. His mixed race band was also pioneering
and a statement of irreverence to the strictures of race and class at the time. Little is written
about Harriott’s stance on matters of race, class and identity, although much is noted about
his unconventional thinking and ambivalence towards conventional notions of race and class
in particular. He was perhaps the first black modern jazz musician to achieve notoriety and
qualified success through a process of negotiation of the peculiarities of his plural, diverse
and syncretised British jazz identity.
The Jazz Warriors
In the 1980’s the Jazz Warrior’s achieved unprecedented commercial success for a British
jazz collective and major record label backing, as well as a public profile that made its
members and founding member, Courtney Pine, household names, with interviews in GQ
magazine and other mainstream press.
The impact on British jazz was international and national and lauded The Jazz Warriors and
Courtney Pine in particular, as the new leaders of British jazz.
The level of success and publicity prompted a re-interpretation and re-communication of the
accepted notion of British jazz and enabled a Black British aesthetic to become a more widely
accepted addition to the assumed British jazz repertoire and canon. The later individual
success of Pine in particular, (almost becoming a new spokesperson for British jazz), meant
there was a waiting medium and new space to communicate the modern diversity of British
jazz and articulate the African Caribbean diasporic influences as well as the new forms of
syncretised jazz that were unique to a British jazz identity. The Jazz Warriors were keen to
explain their influences and the impact of their forbears to the public and in one of their first
major projects in 1989, Pine paid tribute to Joe Harriott in a tour called, ‘Homage to Joe
Harriott’. The Warrior’s pioneering achievement is often sighted as a seminal episode in the
progress and influence of black British jazz and is largely seen as responsible for the re-
implementation of modern British jazz.
Conclusion
The cultural context within which can examine the heritage of black British jazz music can be
defined by my own less prescribed and broader notion of diversity which contrasts with
current prevailing discourse which centres largely around ethnicity, gender and class. My
notion of diversity can be characterised by a number of key themes, which include an
evolving British identity due to invasions, migration, colonialism, twentieth century
globalisation and challenges from post-modernist revisionist thinkers, to Enlightenment ideals
of , as Hall (2000) puts it, “dispassionate universal knowledge” (p.25). In a similar vein,
Moore (2007) says, musicology has embarked upon a “new study of popular music alongside
the development of new critical and theoretical models” (editor’s preface). Moore (2007) also
adds, “a relativistic outlook has replaced the universal perspective of modernism” (editor’s
preface).
Within this context, over the last 60 years, BBJ has emerged as an accepted and forthright
musical idiom within the political, social and artistic landscape of British jazz. Its unique
identity and influence upon British jazz reflects its ambivalent post-Empire and post-modern
setting which provides its grounding, agency and currency within that established cultural
design. As a fringe and often marginalised art form, British jazz seeks re-invention and re-
vitalisation from all artistic quarters and musical traditions. Since its genesis in the early
1930’s, through to its maturation in the 1960’s and pronouncement in the 1980’s, BBJ has
applied its rhetorical and stylistic enhancements to British jazz in an increasingly confident
and complementary format. This pattern bodes well for the future, but given the uncertain
nature of British jazz, it is not guaranteed. For Gary Crosby (2010), the question of the future
of BBJ is seen humorously, yet wittingly:
“there aren’t that many of us here, yet we have created a sound and presence that is predicated
on a need to innovate and we haven’t done that badly to date!”iii
References and Citations
i It is acknowledged by many academics and writers that there is sparse writing about the BBJ
contribution to British jazz heritage. Moore (2007) when referring to the lack of scholarly study in this
areas states, “There is virtually no mention of the contribution of black Britons and only limited
writings on Britain’s free jazz scene”i (p.4). In light of this, I hope this essay will serve to contribute in
some small way to this much needed scholarship. My focus in this essay is not and ethnomusicology
style review of BBJ. It is more an examination of the relationship between BBJ heritage and British
jazz identity and the varying narratives, which construct notions of jazz identity and ownership and the
impact that race and class has upon this evolving inter-relationship. I am especially interested in the
relationship between BBJ and British jazz within the context of a post-colonial and post-modern British
society..
ii Le Gendre, K. 2004, “Joe Harriott: Fire in his Soul by Alan Robertson”, The Independent,
18 January, p. 1
iii Crosby,
G. (2010) Interview with Clive Powell, 16 February, London. Bassist and
composer Gary Crosby is one of the pioneers of contemporary black British jazz and founder
of acclaimed jazz music label, Dune Records.
Moore, Hilary. 2007, Inside British Jazz, Crossing Borders of Race, nation and Class,
Ashgate, England.
Rye, Howard. 1990, Fearsome Means of Discord: Early Encounters with Black Jazz.” Paul
Oliver , ed. Black music n Britain: essays on the Afro-Asian Contribution to Popular Music.
Milton Keynes: Open University Press.
Shipton, Alyn. 2001, “A New History of Jazz”, London, Continuum.
Parsonage, Catherine. 2005, the Evolution of Jazz in Britain, 1880-1935, Ashgate, England.
Mckay, George,. 2005,“Circular Breathing: The Cultural Politics of Jazz in Britain”, Duke
University Press.
Coombes, Annie., “Museums and the Formation of National and Cultural Identities”, Oxford
Art Journal, Vol 11, No 2 (1988), p 55 Published by: Oxford University Press.
Wilmer,J. 1964, “Joe Harriot Abstractionism”, Downbeat Magazine, 10 September, p.12
Figure 1 – John B Souter Breakdown
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