What’s good everyone,
For this week’s Black Music History series I wanted to talk about the inimitable Wynton Kelly, an incredible jazz pianist. He was one of the first cats I got into when I was coming up in high school. A preeminent sideman and strong bandleader, Wynton played alongside the likes of Miles Davis and Wes Montgomery. I love his impeccable timing, his slick soloing lines, his incredibly strong compin’ skills (playing chords behind others while they solo), and his sense of the blues. But what I especially dig about Wynton was how he could stay focused on the mission at hand, come what may.
When Miles Davis recorded the legendary album Kind of Blue, legend has it that he intentionally double booked Bill Evans and Wynton to play piano. Bill got most of the record, and Wynton got one tune - the blues called Freddie Freeloader. My teacher told me how mad Wynton was when he learned he was only booked for one tune. But instead of turning down the date, he recorded one of the baddest solos in the history of the music (in my humble opinion). Talk about playing the blues. Every time I listen to that solo, I think about how important it is to stay focused on the mission. That’s what Black History is all about.
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Speaking of staying focused on the mission, I attended a phenomenal conference this week called the Samuel DeWitt Proctor Conference, a Black Christian social justice conference. Held here in Chicago, it was an excellent time of networking with cats doing the work all over the country. The preachers and workshops were off the chain. I learned so much about so much, including the genocide in Palestine, the environmental crisis, and intergenerational trauma that Black folk pass onto each other due to the oppression of Whiteness.
But there were two cats who really stood out to me. The first cat was Dr. Obari Adeye Cartman, a visionary Black male psychologist based here in Chicago. Everything he was saying about Black trauma was so profound, but I was especially blown away when he flipped the narrative about what neighborhood is most dangerous in Chicago. Normally these narratives of fear center on Black neighborhoods on the South and West sides (e.g., Englewood or Roseland). But Dr. Cartman said disagreed: the most dangerous neighborhood is downtown, where we were meeting. That’s where the policies are created that lead to the ongoing death of Black folk throughout the city (and elsewhere). Sheesh laweesh. Yes. That cat really got me thinking: Who defines danger and violence? What do we regard as weapons? And what does it mean to walk in the valley of the shadow of death and fear no evil?
The other cat that really stood out to me was Rev. Courtney Clayton Jenkins, who preached heaven down on Tuesday night. She preached on prophetic stillness, taking as her text 1 Kings 19:1-19. What so convicted me was how she walked us through this charge to practice stillness and community while doing our prophetic work, lest we die like Elijah almost did. But God was never calling Elijah to be exceptional, exhausted, and isolated. That was all Elijah’s doing.
By the end of the sermon I literally fell out on the ground, slain in the spirit. It was incredible. To be on the giving end of a sermon calling me to rest and to live in community was huge. I loved hearing so much of Notes of Rest preached back at me.
However, I had a complicated moment right after that. The congregation moved on from the preaching moment immediately into a climactic song. But I couldn’t sing. After a sermon like that, calling us to stillness, I felt we needed space to be still, even quiet. Rev. Jenkins shouted us real good, but did we really hear her?
To be fair, as the Black contemplative Barbara Holmes asserts, in Black church settings our singing is often our space for stillness. Being utterly silent is often enshrined in White contemplative space. So in that moment I was challenged with these different modes of operating. I’ve been so formed by Black church space - and music, at that - but also really appreciate the quiet found in contemplative quiet. On Tuesday night, I felt the holy tension of holding these different currents together.
When big moments of conviction arise for you, do you make time to be still? How does that stillness look?
Wynton and Proctor both remind me to stay focused on the mission that God has placed before me. Even when we find our role to be smaller than we expected (Wynton), or when narratives shift the focus from what is really at stake (Cartman), God can keep our attention focused on what we need to do or receive in any given moment. With everything that vies for our attention, this is my prayer for all of us.
abundantly,
Julian
P.S. I’m one of the faculty teachers for the Academy of Spiritual Formation hybrid model, an 18-month spiritual formation journey held here in Mundelein, IL. My module will be on Spirituality and Creativity. I invite you to sign up today!
What’s Next
Feb 24 Notes of Rest at St. Benedict the African (Chicago)
Feb 25 Isaiah Collier at Winterland Six (Jacksonville)
Mar 1 Marques Carroll at Andy’s Jazz Club (Chicago)
Mar 3 Jonita Lattimore at Faith UMC (Orland Park, IL)
Mar 7 The JuJu Exchange at Soho House (Chicago)
Mar 10 Isaiah Collier at Café Coda (Madison, WI)
Mar 16 Notes of Rest at Our Lady of Lourdes (Atlanta, GA)
Mar 17 Notes of Rest at Immanuel Anglican Church (Decatur, GA)
Mar 28-31 Isaiah Collier and the Chosen Few at Black Cat (San Francisco)
Excellent questions, Julian. Who does define danger indeed? What a pity the pace of events didn't allow space to honor the words you were so moved by.
I am STILL thinking about that sermon. It helped to ground me in my intention for the week, which was maintaining my self-care rhythms in the midst of the packed schedule of Proctor. It was great meeting you!