What’s good everyone,
Today’s note is a collage of where I’ve been the last few weeks on tour with Isaiah Collier. So much happens on a music tour that you can’t just make one simple statement, especially when you then come back home to one of the presidential candidates almost being assassinated. I hope that this medley of meditations will give you a sense of some of what I am sensing.
On my jogs through Paris, I would run past the poor lying in the street. I wondered what it meant to fly all the way from Chicago to play for the middle class yet still see the need for the Good Samaritan. I pray my ministry can obliquely serve them on the street even though it was intended for those in the clubs. (What if cities became proud of their poor like they are proud of their skyline and food? When you travel to industrialized economies, what kind of attention do you give the poor?)
One night the band was out for a stroll through Paris’ Bastille square, and it so happened that the Gaza protestors prepared to march on the police. I wanted to join for a second, but I then shuddered at the prospect of being tear gassed or detained in a foreign country. Our protest had to come from the stage. That night better grounded the sense of what was at stake in my playing.
In London we played at St. James the Great Anglican church that occasionally rented out its space to this organization called Church of Sound for midweek concerts. Most of the patrons for this concert were White folk 20-30 somethings. Yet in the green room I saw a picture of the church’s choir, which consisted of a bunch of elderly Black women who weren’t smiling all that much. I was struck by the juxtaposition - Black music played by young Black American adults for British White adults inside a church inhabited by these seasoned Black women. God has given us so much music to hear.
Isaiah sprained his ankle at the end of the first week, right before the beginning of the exhausting second week, and so I needed to wheel him around the various airports in the wheelchair. His injury sobered me. We go on the road in order to be spectacular, but we are never above infirmity.
As I was fixing to come home, I met the incomparable Meshell Ngedecello. I asked what would she tell someone coming into their own creativity, to which she responded: “keep going; surround yourself with people who will tell you the truth; it’s not about you.” I share this wisdom with all of us for our respective creative journeys. Àshe and Amen.
Tonight I have the privilege of moderating a panel on faith, art and social justice here in Chicago. It is for my friend Nico Segal who just released his new song With God on Our Side. Art has always been a hinge for religion and politics, and what a time to plumb the depths of that intersection given the violence overseas and domestically (now including the former president’s assassination attempt). This too is a curious juxtaposition. Music can be seen as a great unifier, which is why we get to play it overseas. But protest music like Nico’s can also be a great divider. The wise musician must be discerning about what is needed and when.
With all that’s swirling around these days, I suspect the conversation will be intense. Hopefully God is felt.
abundantly,
Julian
What’s Next
July 16 With God on Our Side Panel (Chicago)
July 20 The JuJu Exchange at Detroit Symphony Orchestra (Detroit)
July 27 Julian Davis Reid’s Circle of Trust at Principle Barbers (Chicago)
July 31 Julian Davis Reid’s Circle of Trust at Bronzeville Winery
August 3 Denise Thimes at Winter’s Jazz Club (Chicago)
August 4 Notes of Rest at The Practice Church (Chicago)
August 6 Julian Davis Reid’s Circle of Trust at Museum of Contemporary Art (Chicago)
August 10 The JuJu Exchange at San Jose Jazz Fest
August 16 The JuJu Exchange at Schuba’s (Chicago)
August 17 The JuJu Exchange at Davenport, Iowa
August 23-24 Isaiah Collier and the Chosen Few (Philadelphia and New York)