They’re Trying to Wash Us Away
It’s been three years since the human and moral disaster that was Hurricane Katrina overran New Orleans and uncovered an ugly blight on America’s soul. To help make sure that nobody forgets, New Amsterdam Records will release a digital version of Ted Hearne’s powerful work Katrina Ballads on August 29.
“It is my hope that setting primary-source texts from the devastating week in 2005 when Katrina hit will help us keep this time active in our memory, challenging us to cut through the spin that followed, and bringing us closer to an understanding of the true aftermath,” Hearne says. “New Orleans has long been a musical epicenter and a real crossroads of culture. The musical influences present in Katrina Ballads are plentiful and diverse. In that sense, this work is a tribute to the life of music, and its ability to shape and inspire us.”
The piece has 11 instrumentalists and 5 singers and it’s an homage to New Orleans rooted deeply in American music, as is evident in the variety of musical styles of the singers featured in the recording. Some of the instrumental performers are staples in the NYC classical music scene while others are from Charleston, South Carolina and are predominantly jazz players. The singers are a mix of contemporary classical, gospel, R&B, and musical theater performers. You will hear influences of gospel, jazz and spirituals into the sound of the music, along with an operatic feel at times.
Thanks to Ted Hearne, here are a couple of songs from Katrina Ballads:
I think the point here is that Katrina Ballads is not pretending to be written from the perspective of someone from New Orleans. It’s not trying to tell the story from that perspective, and it’s not pretending stylistically to be from New Orleans either. It’s telling the story of how it felt to be outside New Orleans watching the reaction from the government and media, an experience shared by many people across the country and across the world. It’s a direct expression of Ted’s own emotional reaction during that time, and it’s decidedly written in his OWN voice.
(All the texts are from interviews or reports widely exposed by the media: if we’re talking about appropriation, these voices had already been “appropriated”.)
And yes, I’m biased. I played on the recording. I’ve lived with this project for over a year and watched Ted and lots of other people pour lots of their own time, efforts and money into it. I just ask that people listen to the whole thing and perhaps familiarise themselves with the texts before commenting further.
Then we can really have a dialogue…
Chris T. thanks for your comments. I have an even clearer understanding of what you’re bringing to the table here. And I have listened to your music on your website previous to this thread. I also know some of the musicians you list on your web page including Stephen Dankner.
The only point I was trying to make with my list of Katrina inspired musical works is that Ted’s work isn’t taking anything away from other artists. There is a proverbial melting pot of music out there drawing upon New Orleans and its history – including recent history like Katrina. And it is getting heard. Conversely, it’s quite possible noone in New Orleans has ever heard of Ted.
I self produce my own work. I’m very lucky to have been commissioned here and there by dance companies, soloists, and film makers – but I mainly work DIY. So some of that spirit, along with my own weird North/South background is fueling my perceptions of Ted’s work and the topics we’re touching on.
My wife was invited to sing as the Mezzo Soprano soloist in a performance of Handel’s Messiah in New Orleans less than a year after Kartina hit. She and I were married in New Orleans before relocating to NYC. She also sang in the chorus that appears on the recording of Adams’ Transmigration of Souls. So there’s yet another level to this conversation that I’m responding to. Her and other singers’ reaction to Adams’ work was very different than Chris Cerrone’s – many were very moved by the text and Adams’ settings (the melodies and rhythms) – but at the time I do remember a variety of criticisms leveled at that composition. Its interesting to hear all of these viewpoints. In my opinion, he had an impossible job and somehow pulled it off. In the audience at the premier of the Adams work you had some people who just sat there and did not applaud at all while others stood up and clapped. I’m curious to listen to the recording again soon to see how I – a New Yorker when 9/11 happened – will feel.
I have to step in here for a minute despite there being far too many Chris’s in this “debate.” I find it to be an almost absurd example of how composers (or maybe what Kyle Gann calls the “grad school boys”) can manage to entire judge a piece without actually engaging its content. I haven’t actually seen one comment about Ted’s work beyond a vague reference to music theatre genre-bending.
To respond directly to Chris Trapani’s comment comparing Katrina Ballads to John Adams’s Transmigration of Souls I think he makes a major category error. Fundamentally, my problem with the Adams’s piece is that it tried make a commentary on the emotions caused by 9/11, which I think no one is qualified to do – everyone’s emotions are different. Ted’s work is different – it is a political piece making a political commentary – almost all of the emotions in the piece are aimed at this. His work deals with the tragedy of Hurricane Katrina, but being wise enough to know that he is not personally about to deal with that issue, he chose to deal with the political aftermath and how awfully our government handled the situation. You could still say he’s not qualified to deal with that, but who is? Certainly not someone from New Orleans. Maybe Condoleezza Rice or Anderson Cooper.
My point being: You can play the “who is qualified to write this piece” game all the time, but I can’t imagine that that applies to someone making a piece about the political ramifications – which caused us all anger – of a tragedy, rather than the tragedy itself.
Let me be clear, Ted, that of course none of this is about the music at all, only the concept. I look forward to hearing the whole piece, and wouldn’t be surprised at all to find things that speak to me. I don’t think though that it will change my feelings about the parameters of the project–which again, I consider completely separate from the music.
Jerry, I think you are missing the point a little, as none of the pieces you reference bear any political agenda. Ted assumes the mantle of a spokesman as he cites “primary sources” and explicitly aims, as you point out in your description, to reawaken interest in the tragedy. A noble cause, as I point out in my first message, but as difficult to take seriously (for me) as a teenager with a Free Tibet banner. Would you feel comfortable speaking on the plight of black America, for instance (a subject some say even Obama doesn’t have a right to address)? I find it perfectly alright to suggest that while everyone has the right to take on whatever material he chooses, there might be degrees of appropriateness in the choice…
Chris Becker: while they’re great, all of the works you mention (with the exception of Kyle Gann’s, which I’m surprised not to have heard about) come from outside the new music arena. Try pitching a new piece about Katrina to a festival or an ensemble and getting the response “We’ve already done that.” Maybe this is cynical on my part, but I see arts institutions taking on such causes actively, even voraciously, but then dropping them once one piece has been programmed to assuage their consciences. The Spoleto festival can’t program Katrina memorial pieces EVERY year…
What is the one thing we hear most often in composition lessons? Find your voice. Look for what specifically YOU can offer that others can’t. I grew up immersed in, learning from, and contributing to the New Orleans music scene. I can’t help it if I feel strongly that this is a deeply rooted part of my identity that I resent being assumed superficially or temporarily by others. I think this is a lesson than can be extended to all of the new music community: there should be a lot more value and respect for individual (or regional) experiences and voices, rather than giving a few New York-based composers the job of speaking for the country. I do honestly believe that contemporary music is far behind other art forms in this regard (and there are probably a lot of reasons, mostly having to do with audiences and resources also being centralized). If we recognize the merit of what authentic experience can bring to a work of art (while at the same time refusing to pigeonhole; not all of my pieces sound ‘jazzy,’ believe it or not), we enrich the community at large.
Louisiana and New Orleans have had a long tradition of being a world apart, resistant to outside interference and influence (this is probably the main reason, over the long term, for the distrust between local and federal governments and the national ambivalence which contributed to the slow response; but that’s another story, too long to get into here). I find myself sometimes frustrated with this birthright, sometimes slipping half-consciously into that mode. So I apologize if I come off as another hotheaded New Orlenian, and want to express once more that I am happy that others are fighting to keep Katrina alive in our collective memory. I only wanted to open a discussion on the role our heritage in our current work.
Should any cash money of any kind ever come from this project, of course a huge percentage would be donated to some kind of Katrina rebuilding fund. And there are a lot of them out there. I was on the board of Emergency Communities until they ceased operations earlier this year, and I think it’s really important to consider what kind of “Katrina fund” you send your money to, since there have been and continue to be, as Chris Becker was hinting at, all sorts of misappropriation of funds and corruption going on. Plus I think it’s a good idea to consider how far one’s modest contribution will really go if the organization you’re giving to has massive overhead costs and is bogged down by a huge bureaucracy.
But this being the new-music world, there isn’t much cash going around, and my piece certainly hasn’t seen any kind of profit and probably won’t, at least for a long time – but it’s not about that, and never was. I think art can get people thinking and reacting in ways that money can’t. Any rich person can throw their money at a cause, but that doesn’t mean they’re personally thinking about any larger complexities surrounding that issue, and it doesn’t mean they’re looking inside themselves. Music CAN inspire such things.
I agree with you, Christopher T, about “people in the rest of the United States finally catching on…” and being embarrassed, mostly for themselves. That’s absolutely right – Katrina bluntly exposed that inequality, and everybody finally caught on. And yeah, a lot of people were ultimately embarrassed for themselves. I am not from New Orleans, but I am still in total agreement with your perspective on that. Anyway, I understand the project doesn’t sit well with some people and that’s to be expected.
I would urge you to actually listen to the piece, though – the whole piece, even if you don’t like the idea of an outsider contributing to that subject matter. To assume that any part of it couldn’t possibly speak to you, or couldn’t take a respectable place in a larger conversation, without having given it a fair and thorough listen is selling it short. I, along with several people, put a lot of hard work and love into this album.
I’m having trouble following the logic here,Chris T. Are you saying that in order to write about something you have to have experienced it directly. If so, you are discounting all of the wonderful literature, art and music that is totally constructed from the artist’s imagination. Aaron Copland didn’t know Abe Lincoln, Samuel Barber was not in Knoxville in 1915, Gustav Holst didn’t go to Mars or any other planet as far as I know, Puccini never went to Japan and still wrote one of the greatest requiems ever for money in honor of man he never met. And, by the way, George Gershwin wasn’t an African-American.
“And so I think you run the risk of overshadowing and crowding out other voices (and I don’t mean only mine) who might be able to draw on a deeper understanding to create a more genuine and personal piece.”
But Christopher, what about Terrance Blanchard’s incredible score to Spike Lee’s film When The Levees Broke? Or Allen Toussaint’s incredible recording with Elvis Costello? Or Irma Thomas’ After The Rain? Or even something like Kidd Jordan’s Palm of Soul recorded just a couple of weeks after he had to leave New Orleans in the wake of Katrina?
Kyle Gann composed a piano concerto that is explicit in its dedication to New Orleans before and in the aftermath of Katrina.
There have been a lot of musical responses to the disaster out there by artists from very diverse backgrounds. And I don’t think Ted is taking anything away from these voices or from the experiences of those who were on the ground.
Is there “little room for further commentary” about Katrina? Please…this country only begun to delve into what happened. Let’s keep encouraging the people who do want to speak up and speak out about it, no matter where they are from.
Look, we are all engaging with the world, all appropriating new places an experiences as we encounter them, and these things should find their way into music, right? So the obvious answer is that anything is fair game for anyone. I realize this must be the case as I consider the converse: Would I claim that I have some exclusive authority to be the one to compose a Katrina-inspired piece? Not at all! It would be dangerous to get into a game of quantifying one’s authority. I mean, if you lost five family members, are you less qualified than the guy who lost only two? Irvin Mayfield lost his father in the storm should we all just defer to him?
Still, I have to stand by what I said earlier: on a gut level, the project just doesn’t sit well with me. I’m glad to see, Ted, that you acknowledge the limitations of your perspective. I do not doubt that it is genuine anger and loss you feel, but that does not mean it isn’t limited. Consider it from the outside: would you be interested in what a young, white, privileged, northerner has to contribute to a continued discussion on the nation’s largest national disaster? When you refer, for instance to “the inequality of opportunity among people in this country that the aftermath of Katrina so bluntly exposed”–well, this was not really the story from our angle. Rather, it was that people in the rest of the United States and abroad caught on for the first time that this kind of poverty and neglect existed within our borders–and were embarrassed (mostly for themselves and their idea of what America should be, but not really for the people of New Orleans, who after all had been living unnoticed in deteriorating conditions for quite a while).
The problem is, Ted–and you must realize this–is that given the attention your piece has garnered, you’re going to be known at “that Katrina guy” for years to come. And maybe it’s just that the new music world has a limited span of attention, but once a subject like this gets tackled, there’s little room left for further commentary. I mean, I feel for the victims of Hiroshima too, but try interesting an orchestra in a new piece on the subject… And so I think you run the risk of overshadowing and crowding out other voices (and I don’t mean only mine) who might be able to draw on a deeper understanding to create a more genuine and personal piece. And that’s where I think I would’ve stepped aside and said “this is not my place…”
And no, Dave, I don’t think Ted should be donating a percentage of proceeds to recovery efforts. New Amsterdam records should be.
David, I am not sure I understand all of your questions or if you are referring to me or the other Chris who began this thread 🙂 I’m not sure if there’s really a “debate” here either as I personally can empathize with…well, pretty much everything that’s been said.
I believe Ted’s piece is a dialog with anyone who hears it. How they react to it is something he can’t predict, but it can resonate within ones consciousness resulting in action for a better future. But who can say? We put it out there and our music takes on a life of its own. To take Ted to task for not raising money via his music for a “katrina fund” is I believe really missing the point and ironically negating the value and power of what we do as creative artists.
Year to year, reaction to this very topical set of songs will change in ways he can’t anticipate. Some of the material is going to resonate with listeners in the future in unexpected ways. Nagin’s administration right now is under heavy scrutiny due to its signing off on and paying bills from contractors for work the contractors did not do. Some of the material Ted has pillaged then for his texts immediately following the storm may read differently now as a result.
Okay, I will debate this…
“…how many people from New Orleans wouldn’t rather hear real jazz or blues?”
First of all, the music theater scene in New Orleans is very much alive and kicking. I’ve seen productions down there that are as good as anything I’ve seen on Broadway. There’s also a healthy DJ scene, klezmer scene, Irish music scene, speed/thrash/grindcore scene, etc. Also, Nik Cohn’s terrific book Tricksta ended up a sort of a requiem for New Orleans’ pre-Katrina rap/bounce scene which is a world away from Ellis Marsalis (no disrespect meant).
Before my show this month at Zeitgeist (in New Orleans), the owner was playing Yoko Ono over the PA right up until we played (Rene is also the world’s biggest Nick Cave fan…). If you presume what people in New Orleans want to or don’t want to hear, you will find yourself with your foot in your mouth.
This debate quickly deflates when we all have to admit that it’s favorable to be in ‘a dialog with the world’ -which is unavoidable, since we live in it. However, we need people to create dialog- events don’t have mouths. It seems to me that this piece has more to do with a specific project, one of musical theatre, which has a long history of mixing different musical genres. It involves texts concerning media coverage of the event, looking from the outside in, and i can only imagine it also looks from the inside out…musical theatre may have some origins in new orleans, but this probably isn’t too much in the mix- blues and jazz influence, maybe, but i didn’t hear it escaping musical theatre.
My question is, if this is meant to be a dialog between a an event (katrina) and a piece of music (katrina ballads), how do we see this dialog continuing? If ‘dialog’ is to be brought back down to its non-transcendent definition, we should be concerned how this is more than a call and response, which isn’t much of a dialog..
Yes, there’s a digital recording coming out- will some money (if much is made) go to the katrina fund? Were ticket proceeds given to the Katrina? The commission, etc? How will this dialog continue?
I’m not going to put words into Chris’s mouth, but personally I feel that unless this gets some cash into the katrina fund then this was a bad choice for a dialog- I mean, how many people from New Orleans wouldn’t rather hear real jazz or blues? Does this help raise awareness for those around the world? Were there wealthy patrons that cut big checks? That’s probably the best bet. I really hope that happened.
Christopher,
I completely understand your cynicism in this matter, and thank you so much for bringing it up. I can only imagine what you have experienced since Katrina hit, and I would never presume to speak for the residents of New Orleans and the Gulf Coast. That is why (with the exception of one article from 2001 anticipating a large-scale levee breach) I only set words that I personally heard that week in the national media. Katrina Ballads is in many ways a portrait of my experience during that week – I watched helpless as all manner of tragic shit went down, and it lit up some real anger inside me. I was in New York on September 11, but Katrina tore me up more – way more. Because after Katrina, I felt completely betrayed; like the America I thought I knew was broken, or like I had been believing in an idea that was a lie all along. We weren’t under siege, we were destroying ourselves and each other with hatred.
Now maybe that sounds dramatic, but that’s how I felt. And I know that a lot of Americans who didn’t personally witness the hurricane or the aftermath felt a similar sense of betrayal. So, despite the fact that some people lost their homes, or were left with no food and water or died in the flood and some (i.e., me) didn’t, I don’t think it makes a lot of sense to ask who is the “best” composer for the job. My perspective – as a young, privileged, white, composer of written music who lives in the American North – is surely different from someone who lived through it, but not necessarily less valid. In fact, the difference between those perspectives may even help to make sense of the inequality of opportunity among people in this country that the aftermath of Katrina so bluntly exposed.
I love what Chris Becker said about being “in dialog with the world.” He is right – the world effects us and our art regardless of how consciously we engage it. Part of what I wanted to do with Katrina Ballads is push people to engage with the disaster and how it reflects upon us, especially seeing as how the alternative is so often to forget about it entirely. Whether or not the music has the intended effect, I believe trying is worth the effort.
I have to mention that I think Chris Becker’s own CD Saints and Devils:
http://cdbaby.com/cd/chrisbecker
is an amazing tribute; both as a living tribute and post-Katrina lament. Part of it’s power is that it was finished just before Katrina came, and yet heard in the wake of the hurricane & flood it seems filled with both intensely fond memory and dark premonition. And, with things about the people that no hurricane of flood can ever take away…
Christopher,
I’ve visited your site before. I lived in New Orleans for five years before marrying there and relocating to NYC. Much of my musical output since the move has been strongly influenced by my experiences in New Orleans. And in fact, I just got back from Southeast Louisiana where I completed a recording project and found time to do a show at Zeitgeist in New Orleans. This was my third visit to New Orleans since Katrina and I do plan to visit and gig there again. If you yourself haven’t visited the city since the storm – I encourage you to do so AND to – if possible – realize some music there. It may be you’ve already done this – I need to take a look at your website again to find out more about your projects.
Most of my New Orleans friends had to leave the city for good due to the damage Katrina wrought on their homes and lively hood.
I just want to say I totally respect where you’re coming from and I don’t think its inappropriate to raise these questions. And I think you answered your questions with the simple words “Why not?” Once we forget about how the rest of the world might perceive our work (a sincere gesture misinterpreted as being a cynical career move), we can tap into something very powerful and – I believe – make something that resonates and heals for many years. I think Ted and his work are coming from a genuine place. I don’t know him at all and have only heard excerpts of the song suite – but that’s my impression of him and his work.
As artists, we should be in dialog with the world – be it the corner on our block or a continent an ocean away. The world is in dialog with us – entering our work and shaping what we might call our intuitive responses – whether we like it or not.
Funny, I was just listening to WWOZ this morning…
Take care,
CB
Though I applaud any effort to draw attention the the recovery effort in my hometown, I wonder where the question of an artist’s authority to address a certain issue should enter the picture. This question first came to mind back when the NY Phil chose John Adams for a commission commemorating 9/11. Were there a lack of good composers living in New York? Seemed like an odd choice, given there were plenty who could have perhaps contributed a more personal perspective. ..
I realize that Katrina was a national tragedy and that no one can claim an exclusive right to speak about it. But as a native whose family was affected by the storm, it’s hard not to react cynically and see such a piece as seizing an opportunity for easy publicity (unrelated to the music) or taking advantage of a current fad for politically oriented (and always critical) pieces. Did the composer stop to ask himself “Am I the one best suited to the job of writing this piece”? Should he have to? I know I would never feel comfortable writing a cantata about the holocaust or the Rwandan genocide. But at the same time, why not? I’m not sure that such an impulse doesn’t impede more ideas than it inspires…
The loss and the aftermath of Katrina is something I’ll be working through for a long time to come, in both my life and my work. But I hope to never be perceived as exploiting the tragedy, but rather as exploring my personal connections and reflections on the storm and what it meant for the city.