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Showing posts with label Josephine Baker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Josephine Baker. Show all posts

Monday, February 20, 2012

Proposal: Background & Significance; Literature Review


“So here we stand, on the edge of hell, in Harlem, and wonder what we will do, in the face of all that we remember.” – Langston Hughes

Location
            I’ll be studying in Paris and with the help of Anderson and Wells’ Paris Reflections will be able to walk through Paris with some understanding of where African Americans lived, worked, and socialized in Paris (Anderson and Wells).

History
America between the wars
            In 1918 about 1 million American troops had been deployed to Europe to aid the Allied forces in their fight against Germany in the Great War.  13% of those drafted were African American who served in segregated units.  American history dictates the Great War as a conflict started by the old world and ended by the new, with Americans as the heroes and saviors of a long, bloody and “total” war.
            Apart from the brief and fatal Spanish Influenza brought back to the United States in 1918 by troops who had served in Europe, the years just following the war are regarded in the United States as a time of great prosperity, or the “party” decade of American history.  This decade was coined “The Jazz Age”: the age of flappers, alcohol, pushing social boundaries, speakeasies, mob control, the Charleston; the age of plenty, of luxury, of free expression, and of scandal.  The young were in charge, changing the way Americans dressed, the way they consumed, the way they spoke, and the way they spent their time.  The music was loud, boisterous, got people moving; youth started buying race records on the corners, listening to jazz, and the blues; they went to the pictures every weekend, spent late nights dancing and drinking—involved in rampant law-breaking.  The war which many Americans had just returned from was largely ignored as an influence on the lifestyle many Americans turned to. (Britten and Mathless)
            In actuality, the 20s were an Age of Uncertainty, particularly for the facet of Americans who were racially marginalized.  In the early 1900s, African Americans began moving north into cities with greater employment opportunities.  The Great Migration changed the demographic of northern cities, and during America’s short involvement in the Great War, many African Americans filled those job openings left by white volunteers and draftees.  The summer race riots of 1919 which took place in Chicago, Oklahoma, South Carolina, Virginia, Washington D.C., and Nebraska, among many other places, evidenced the great uncertainty about race relations in the United States after the war.  There are two primary reasons recognized for these riots, first that many white veterans returned to the States to find their jobs taken by black workers, or returned to homes much changed by black presence and felt a need to restore order; second, that many black veterans assumed equal treatment would be afforded them in homecoming celebrations, or assumed they would be treated with respect as veterans of the United States Army after having been treated with respect by white Frenchmen (Stovall 26-27).  Lashing out in uncertainty and hatred, white mobs killed and lynched men without trial, accused men of rapes, harassment and murders they did not commit, destroyed African American housing districts which left many dead or homeless, and burned down entire sections of cities (Gates 262-265).  The Chicago Race Riots alone left 38 dead and over 500 injured[1]; that summer 10 of those lynched in the south in 1919 were black veterans (Stovall 27).
            Having wrongly assumed that perhaps they, as veterans, had earned the respect of their fellow Americans, many African Americans who had served in Europe during the Great War returned to France as musicians, performers, writers, artists, and intellectuals, to a place where they felt appreciated and valued.  Thought the racial freedom many African Americans reported having experienced in Europe was not entirely the case (Schmeisser 109-110), the French ideal of an élite (Barlow and Nadeau 47-59) allowed these cultural contributors the chance to give of their talent without apparent racial discrimination (Whalan).
            Meanwhile, those who stayed behind were the predecessors to the civil rights movement that would take full effect thirty years later.  (“We return.  We return from fighting. We return fighting.” – W.E.B. DuBois)

France entre-deux-guerres
            France was not America entre-deux-guerres.  In many ways, France was aware of the anxiety that riddled the twenty years between the two wars.  By the war’s finish, everyone knew someone who had died in the war because 6000 men were killed every day of the duration of World War I; out of 38,000 communes in France, only one did not lose someone to the war.  Furthermore, 5 million acres of French farmland had been destroyed, and by the beginning of WWII the number of cities with populations over a million had doubled in France as it became harder to sustain a lifestyle in the country. (History of France)
            Before the war, Europe had had high hopes for its future, but instead “European civilization had managed to produce the most destructive, bloody war in human history. . . . This lost self-confidence lay at the heart of the Roaring Twenties in Paris, leading many thoughtful Parisians to look toward other traditions as a way of restoring their shattered faith.”  Lifestyles drastically changed, many of which influenced American culture as well.
The feminist movement reigned during the period, and a new fashion of women (called les garçons) cut their hair short and began wearing men’s clothes.  They discarded their corsets and started showing their legs, they smoked in public, and began working to fill the need caused by all the loss of men in France. (History of France)  After the trauma of war, “Paris seemed bent on having a good time; the war was over, and young people now had the freedom to experience life to the fullest. . . . One result was a new interest in Africa and blacks as a whole” (31).

Jazz and African Americans in France
Though “race music” as it might have been called by Americans, was introduced in Europe before the Great War, and records of bands which toured through Germany, France and Britain were found years later, it didn’t have much of an influence on Europe until after the First World War (Lotz).  However, because some black music got into Europe before the war, Lotz argues that its influence in Europe needs to be reassessed because it shaped how African American artists were received in Europe later.
            Most attribute the inextricable introduction of Jazz to France to the African American soldiers who served in France during the Great War.  Though American units were segregated, undoubtedly soldiers played the blues and jazz while they were in Europe.  Immediately following the war, there was a high demand for revues and black musicians in Paris to play Jazz for the French.  Such revues was how Josephine Baker came to Paris; her overnight success in Paris kept Baker in the city, singing, dancing, and performing in shows until she returned to New York for a short stay.  She was not received well (Read: the Reception of Jazz in America) and returned to Paris.  Other African American expatriates gathered in Montmartre, where their musical expertise was enjoyed by the French.  In truth, the French demanded black musicians for their clubs, preferring them to white musicians. “ ‘ If there was any racism it was our people that used to give preference to the colored musician,’” one French musician said; he performed in blackface so he would have the chance to play with a black band (Stovall 38-39).
            (Include: (Archer-Straw), (Jackson “Making Jazz French”) & Django Reinhart)

Influence on America
Alexandre Dumas (Martone),

Significance
            I’m interested in studying African American expatriates in Paris simply because when one learns about the “Jazz Age” of American history, not only is the French perspective of the War, and France’s influence on American society often ignored, but more important the African-American perspective is disregarded.  Little, if anything, is ever taught of the Summer Race Riots which took place after the First World War, or how the freedoms blacks experienced abroad played an influential part in the civil rights movement of the 1950s-70s.
            If we do mention Paris or France during the Jazz Age, it is always in reference to the Anglo-American expatriates: F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway.  Though worthy of mention, these white writers only represent a fraction of the American expatriates in Paris at the time, and are only a fraction of contributors to the American-Parisian culture that influenced America.  This is one of many examples of a “white-washed” history.  As the entire “Jazz” Age, it can be argued, was the gift of black America to the United States, and for that matter, to France, why the story of the history of Jazz is not told in an American History context is entirely beyond me (Beregot and Merlin).
            Though what I primarily want to study is how French culture influenced the black expatriate musicians in Paris and what they perhaps brought back to the United States because of their experience in France, ultimately, I think the significance of studying this facet of American culture is to treat it as main-stream American history, rather than marginalize it as “African-American History.”

African-American Expatriates
Short Visits
Langston Hughes
W.E.B. DuBois

Long Visits/Stays
Josephine Baker – Complete Record Works, 1926-27
Ada “Bricktop” Smith

Others
Claude McKay - Banjo

Monday, February 6, 2012

"Feeling Bad for No Reason"

I know nothing about music apart from what I like.  I don't even think I could tell you what (and if there is anything) I don't like.  But lately I've been wondering maybe how I can be a little more specific in my work here, studying African-American expatriates in Paris and I've been giving some thought to what got me interested in African-American culture in the first place.

As a kid who grew up in Los Angeles I spent a good amount of my childhood in a car--in traffic.  You know, I'm sure my parents would report different, but I don't really remember minding, and as a child who grew up in a car--in traffic--my favorite pastime of traveling is still listening to music.  I would lie in the back of the van with my ear next to the car speaker while we were in bumper to bumper traffic listening to my dad's mix tapes and the oldies station.  I never got to choose what to listen to, and I don't think I ever expressed preference--except when I complained that the Classical music made my stomach hurt, which by the way is still the case, and my parents would change the radio station.  But there was one song in particular that was played often on KEARTH 101.1 which I have loved and never tired of.  "What's Going On" by Marvin Gaye.  I cried if my father tried to change it.  Alas, when I had no knowledge of skin color, no understanding of race, no preference for one or the other, Marvin Gaye was my first love.

It was years later, probably High School when I found a Marvin Gaye album on my father's shelf and found this song again, and never let it go after that.  My family can vouch for how often Gaye's "What's Going On" album was played in our house that year.  I followed Marvin Gaye straight into the history of Motown, into the legacy that was black music.  It didn't take long to find Big Band from there, and Swing, and Jazz, and for a little while I lost myself in Frank Sinatra, and Benny Goodman, and Artie Shaw.  This, by the way, is a nice place to loose oneself.  But I soon returned to what really got me going.  Duke Ellington and Count Basie emerged.  Then, I continued to pry into the music of African-American culture.  And I was in love again with these voices.  Lena Horne, Billie Holiday, oh, Louis Armstrong, and then I found Fats Waller, Bessie Smith--and I just kept going. Robert Johnson, Josephine Baker.

My sister caught on to the whole thing.  She started listening to some Soul, to some Gospel, and so my family were plunged into the world of African-American music.  I started studying French, and found through a professor here at BYU Ben L'Oncle, a French-Blues singer who I fell in love with.  I came home and stopped listening to anything else, other than this soulful, bluesy stuff that was melancholy and imperfect.  And I was thinking, why is this something I can't let go of?  Why is this something that is so much a part of me that I can't say "I'm going to study African American expatriates" without saying, "You know?  Josephine Baker... Ada "Bricktop" Smith.  And what I want to want is to study the writers, and the intellectuals, but I think I'm going to have to admit to myself sometime that its the collision of France which has always appreciated the melancholic with old African American blues and jazz which has rarely had reason to be anything other than melancholic, that really gets me.

Maybe that gives me a place to start.  I've been wondering--why France?  What's the point in going there?  Who will I talk to?  What will I study?  I don't know anything about music, but could I?  Could I do something right by Marvin Gaye?  Pay  him back for this gift he's given me.  And keeps giving me.

Friday, February 3, 2012

I am white and white is black and black is white and black is black

I need a post to do some thinking, or else the thinking just won't get done.  Lately I've been asking myself what I'm doing this for.  What's the point of doing all this work?  How does it apply to me when I'm looking at history and not necessarily interviewing people?  And who will I talk to, and what will I spend my time doing?  And what do I want to come out of this field study with?  What do I want to know?  Why do I have to go to France to know it?

People have written all sorts of things on the blacks in France, especially those who went there after the Great War.  And I think most of the people who have written biographies or histories of appreciating these people have far more authority and understanding than I do.  I'm not really trying to compete with them on any publishing level, and I'm aware that next to no one will read whatever it is I come up with in the end, but I have to do something that I find worthwhile.

What got me interested in this idea is that I haven't met a whole lot of people who know about the blacks in Paris the way they know about the whites in Paris.  The elephant in the room is Midnight in Paris in which no black expatriates are present apart from Josephine Baker in the back of the room.  Sure you see F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Zelda, Gertrude Stein, and Hemingway--all important American players in Paris at the time, but why the hell didn't he talk to Josephine Baker, and where were Ada "Bricktop" Smith, James Reese Europe and Gene Bullard?  Why wasn't he having conversations with intellectuals like Langston Hughes?  Or at the very least, why weren't they present the way they should have been?

This is what American Studies is about for me--why are we so certain that American=white when it doesn't?  What I want for myself is to put these people in an American context as Americans and I don't want the most famous of these people--Josephine Baker--to be a "who's that?" anymore.  Now I guess I can't change anything, and I'm more than aware of that.  So what's the point then?  What do I want out of this given that I can't make a difference?  If this is just a jumping off point, a place where I can learn how to develop some important skills.

More and more I'm thinking maybe I do want to find an African-American community in Paris and talk to the people I find.  In English, in French.  But whose to assume they'll let me if I do find them?  And that's why I want a backup plan.  What I would want to interview these people for is to put the people I'm currently interested in, in context.

Why I have to go to France is a harder question to answer because I could theoretically just study African-Americans in Paris and Paris itself and the 1920s and black history and then apply all the things I want to about American Studies to my book-learned understanding.  The reason I want to go to France is purely selfish.  I want to be an American in Paris.  I want to know what it's like, and I want to know how it differs from the things I read about these people going through.  I want to walk the streets they walked, and I want to learn they language they had to learn.  I want to live in the city that is well-known for racial equality, and I want to know if that's true.  I want to meet people, especially black Americans, and I want to know what life has been like for them in Paris.  Is it like the Paris of the 1920s in any way?  But most of all--what is it about France and Paris in particular that attracted these people?  Is it just the romance of the place, or is it something else?

I never believe that romance jazz about Paris.  Then I went there, and somehow I understood what people meant.  That's why I think I need to go for a longer period of time.  Because you can be told a lot of things about a place, but can you really put yourself in the context of it without experiencing it?  I don't think you can.

Why are we so set on not including the African-American experience in with the study of "America."  We talk about how slavery affected the black American population, but always with the intention of switching back to "white mode" and how it affects whites now.  Who the hell cares how it affects whites now when it's still something that's present in this country for blacks now?

I loved Midnight in Paris, but I remember thinking at the end of that movie, after thinking about how much I thoroughly enjoyed it, that it was still a white-washed American history, even if it was in Paris.  And I KNOW you can't tell every story at once, but I don't understand why it has to be a white story OR a black story, when we've been together, whites and blacks, all this time.  It's the 21st century.  Isn't it about time we started talking about how separate our histories are?  Isn't it about time we started melding them?  After all, I, a white girl from Los Angeles couldn't be American without the African presence, and a black girl from Virginia certainly couldn't be American without the Anglo presence.  That's kind of what makes us uniquely American.  Is anyone else willing to admit that?

This project idea still needs a lot of work, I guess that much is obvious.


Monday, January 30, 2012

In defense of Annotated Source for 1 February

I know that this isn't a scholarly article, a documentary or a book, but I am not an anthropologist.  In fact I am an American Studies major, and part of my project is going about studying the experience of African-American expatriates in Paris with the methodology of the American Studies field.  A very big part of that is 'Textual Interpretation' in which you read the books, listen to the music, view the art, etc. of the men and women who lived in Paris, conversed in Paris, created in Paris, etc.  Josephine Baker's Complete 1926-27 recordings is one of a list of books, music, or art, that I will be citing.  Art pieces will not be cited, though records of 'gallery' shows will be.  Part of the American Studies methodology is putting the art in the context of the history, the institutions and the social implications they would have come into contact with, making this album extremely relevant.


Baker, Josephine. Complete Record Works. 1926-27. A piece for textual interpretation, to be taken into account as the first of her recorded works while she was in Paris.  She stayed in Paris and/or France basically for the remainder of her life, returning to New York for a short while, only to realize that she didn't want to deal with the racism there and returning to Paris.  To fully understand these people and what they expereinced as Americans in Paris, one must read their writing, listen to their music, view their artwork, and roam their city.