JULY 07      FEB 07

JULY 2008 - A STATEMENT FROM RENE MARIE

Voice of My Beautiful Country
What you’re listening to is my love song to America; my latest attempt to express how I feel about living in this country as a person of color.  It had its germination over three years ago when, during an interview in Russia, the interviewer referred to me as an American.   I started to interrupt her, to tell her she was mistaken.  But I caught myself and was extremely surprised and dismayed to discover that I didn’t feel like an American.  The rest of the interview I don’t remember because I was too focused on this startling and disturbing discovery.  

On the flight from Moscow, I felt anxious to get back home.  Yes, ‘home’.  And yet, I had nearly corrected the Russian interviewer when she called me American!  Why?   I didn’t know, but I wanted to find out. 

Flying across the Atlantic, I thought about how, from the time I was a very young child, I had always loved singing “America the Beautiful”, “God Bless America” and how my heart always swelled with pride, how I always teared up whenever I heard the beginning strains of the “National Anthem”.  I loved these songs, loved singing them.  I loved my home – the dirt and the sky and the trees and the grass and bugs of my home.  I loved the people in it, the way we walked and talked and interacted.  I loved the way things are done here, problematic though they may sometimes be.  I tried to imagine living permanently in another country – and couldn’t. I loved this land!  So why didn’t I feel like I was an American?

For the next few weeks I puzzled over it, analyzing every little thing I felt.  I dug deep.  And this is what I came up with:

Beautiful as those songs are, when I learned them as a child, the black community was still living under Jim Crow laws.  Seating was segregated at theatres.  There were certain stores in town that black folks simply could not enter.  My siblings and I went to segregated schools where the books, desks, chairs, tables, lunch trays and playground equipment were never new, always hand-me-downs from the all white schools.  My parents taught at those schools and, rather than being bitter, we were raised to be proud, stand tall, speak clearly, look others in the eye and be true & respectful to ourselves and everyone we met, regardless of their color.

Even at such a young age, however, I sensed on a fundamental level that there was a disconnect between the patriotic songs I loved to sing, the Pledge of Allegiance I took pleasure in memorizing and repeating every day and the humiliating, not-quite-a-citizen experiences that black folks were enduring on a daily basis.   For instance... 

One year, my mother and father, along with about 5 other black couples, attempted to integrate the segregated lunch counters in my hometown, Warrenton, Va.  My parents were assigned to Frost’s Diner on the by-pass.  On the door of that establishment was a sign that read, “No Dogs. No Niggers”. 

In a manner of speaking, my parents were successful that night.  They went into the diner, ordered dinner (though they were never served) and left with only verbal insults ringing in their ears as a warning.  Later that year, however, as a result of this protest, my father was blacklisted – fired from his job as a teacher and unable to find employment anywhere in the county sufficient enough to support seven children and a wife.  And they were considered the lucky ones. This is the kind of unspoken – yet very real – disconnection black families lived with day in and day out. 
  
As children, we are hardly equipped with the verbal skills to express such a disconnection.  But the disconnection lingers until one day, whoop! there it is.  And you’re left with trying to figure out why you don’t feel the word ‘American’ has ever really applied to you. 

We went to church.  And there we listened to our pastor try to make sense of the inequality he and his entire congregation was faced with day after day, to instill in us joy and hope where there was adversity and sadness and grief.  When the fourth of July fell near a Sunday, we opened our hymnals to the “Battle Hymn of the Republic” or “America the Beautiful” or the “National Anthem” and we sang.  We sang loud and long and clear and spirits soared at the prospect of God’s truth marching on.  Our eyes misted over to think that God might shed his grace on us and crown his good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea.  We adored the sentiments expressed in the National Anthem but felt excluded because the land of the free was not free for us and those in our homes who were brave enough to confront the Jim Crow laws risked their lives or their livelihoods in so doing.  So we sang “Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing” in our churches, too, and at our schools and other community gatherings because that song spoke of our hopes, our situation.  It came to be known as the “Black National Anthem”, and for good reason, though it, too, was exclusive in that it validated the daily struggle of black folks and gave us hope and encouragement when, oftentimes, nothing and nobody else would or could.   

Music is a second language to me.  From as far back as I can remember, when I couldn’t figure out a way to express whatever I was feeling, my emotions could always find their expression in music.  So on the flight home, I wondered: Could I take the sentiments of these songs that had meant so much to me – that still mean so much to me – and re-frame them in a musical context that more accurately reflects the America I live in now?  The America with which I more honestly identify?  The America I love?

I was inspired to write a suite entitled “Voice of My Beautiful Country”, moving from sentiment to sentiment and utilizing American music: Jazz, Blues & Gospel. I use three movements: “America the Beautiful”, “My Country ‘Tis of Thee” and, the movement that has garnered the most attention and criticism, “Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing” sung to the melody of the “National Anthem”.  The title, “Voice of My Beautiful Country”, expresses for me the dichotomy and contradictions of being a person of color in America. 

“Voice of My Beautiful Country” is my love song to America – the land I love living in.  I love singing this suite; it has given me room to feel the full spectrum of emotions I most strongly connect with – joy, pain, love, pride, sentiment, unity, hope - when I think of my family, my country and my national community.  It has been a journey toward making peace with the contradictions that still exist within me when I think of my past, a conduit for hope when I think of the future and given me the freedom to finally feel like an American. 

JENA SIX

What makes an activist? 

One dictionary defines an activist as ‘an especially active advocate of a cause, especially a political cause.’  Some synonyms given for activism are ‘involvement’, ‘advocacy’, and ‘effecting change’.

I became actively ‘involved’ with the concerns of the Jena Six, ‘advocating’ for a more just way for the authorities in Jena, Louisiana to deal with the fighting that had developed there as a result of white teens hanging three nooses from a schoolyard tree.  Instead of talking about it and shaking my head – like I usually do -  I wanted to DO SOMETHING.  Instead of reading about it and then moving on to something else – like I usually do - I wanted to SPEAK OUT. I wanted to ‘effect a change’, a change from the still-unbelievably-healthy Jim Crow under- and overtones that exist in Jena, Louisiana.   

(Jim Crow is a term describing the American racist culture against blacks. It originated in the early 1800’s as a character depicting black people in derogatory ways in minstrel shows. By 1860, the term Jim Crow was a common part of the nation's vocabulary and was used to describe segregated railroad cars for blacks and whites: the railroad cars reserved for blacks were Jim Crow cars. By the 1890s, the term had come to mean the separation of blacks from whites and the general customs and laws that subordinated blacks to inferior positions and citizenship. Historians have used the term in reference to the process of segregation or setting the races apart--sometimes meaning customary or informal segregation and sometimes meaning legal or codified segregation.  It is the customary or informal segregation that pertains to the “White Tree”, and the illegal double standards of punishment meted out to the African-american teenagers involved in the fighting in Jena, Louisiana.  Read more at www.jimcrowhistory.org )

I wanted to take to heart the words of activist and holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel, who said:

“There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest.”

I wanted to be a part of the water that contributes to the ocean’s roar that American abolitionist and statesman Frederick Douglass referred to when he said:

“Those who profess to favor freedom, and yet deprecate agitation, are men who want rain without thunder and lightning.  They want the ocean without the roar of its many waters.”

Originally, this ‘taking to heart’ was to have been a simple candlelight vigil, a small public statement – maybe in my own suburban front yard - on September 20 to coincide with Mychal Bell’s sentencing date and the scheduled nationwide march in Jena. But when I mentioned this idea to my sweet, sweet husband, Jesse, and he mentioned it to a small group of thoughtful, committed people who, like me, were looking for a way to express their support, a full-blown rally or SpeakOut! in Denver, Colorado for the Jena Six emerged.  In only 11 days, and with the help of many, many dedicated hands, we pulled it all together.  For details and photos, please go to
www.jenasix-speakout-den.org.

What did I learn in those 11 days? 

1. The spirit of community and cooperation runs deep and strong in the Denver metro area.

2. Do not disparage the day of small beginnings.  Even Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Gandhi and others before them in the long line of ‘activists’ that preceded my little effort, had a small beginnings.

3. It takes no effort to complain about something.  We do it all the time, don’t we?  It takes more effort to write a letter, make that phone call, send those emails, make signs, organize, march, get on the bus or in the car, gather together and DO SOMETHING. The power of one is huge.  

4.  Pain + Creativity = Beauty  
Yep. I wrote and recorded a song about the Jena Six. Wanna hear it?  Here it go.  (3 Nooses hanging).  You can buy it as a single, confidently knowing that all proceeds from the sale of this single go to the Jena Six Defense Committee.  Just click here .

I am aware that there are injustices like this happening all over the U.S. and the world.  But it’s been a wonderfully encouraging start to be so involved in this movement.  The words spoken by cultural anthropologist Margaret Mead below resonate strongly with me:  

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world: indeed it’s the only thing that ever has.” 

One love,
rene

JAZZTIMES ARTICLE & REVIEW:
Check out the Opening Chorus section in the October issue of JazzTimes Magazine. Writer Lara Pellegrinelli and I spent some time this past summer talking about my composition "This is (not) a Protest Song" and my efforts to raise $$ for the homeless. Also, a review of our latest CD, "Experiment In Truth" will be in the December issue.

BLACK RADIO DAYS' "LITTLE ROCK NINE":
Come be a part of the live, in-studio audience at the Crossroads Theater Sept 24, 2007! I'll be participating in "Little Rock Nine", a Black Radio Days dramatic presentation of the day, 50 years ago, when nine courageous black students braved a racist mob of 1000 and the governor himself to desegregate Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas. Crossroads Theater is located in Five Points at 27th and Welton, next door to Blackberries Ice Cream Parlour. Tickets are $12 and the show starts at 8pm. As always, donnie l. betts is the brains and imagination behind this production No Credits Production. The following link takes you to Little Rock Central High's website where a blow-by-blow account of the events leading up to that historic day is given: Little Rock Central.

"LISTEN HERE" JAZZ INTERVIEW WITH NEIL TESSER & MARK RUFFIN:
In mid-August, I did my second interview with Neil Tesser, this time about my new CD, "Experiment In Truth". I've interviewed with Neil and Mark numerous times and each time it's crazier and crazier. This time was no exception. The only thing missing was Mark Ruffin - due to inclement weather, he couldn't get to the interview in time. Thanks to the ISDN hook-up at jazz station KUVO here in Denver, we did this station-to-station. The interview airs Tuesday, September 11 on Listen Here Radio. You'll need i-tunes to listen to it.

FUND RAISER FOR COLORADO COALITION FOR THE HOMELESS:
If you've read my newsletter of February 2007, you know the story of how I came to be connected with the Colorado Coalition for the Homeless - Colorado Coalition Org. If you don't know that story, you can read it here (February Newspage 2007)  In August, my touring musicians - Kevin Bales, Quentin Baxter and Rodney Jordan - flew into Denver where we spent Aug 9-11 at Dazzle jazz club (Dazzle Jazz) celebrating the release of our new CD, "Experiment In Truth". The third night was set aside as a fund-raiser for CCH, and boy, did we raise funds! I'm so proud: along with donating 100% of all CD sales that night to CCH, Donald Rossa, owner of Dazzle, contributed 100% of Saturday's door and two $100 gift certificates for the silent auction, John Christian Jewelers donated a GORGEOUS blue topaz necklace for the silent auction and an anonymous donor auctioned off 7 days at a condo in beautiful Breckinridge, Colorado. In between sets, KUVO's Susan Gatschett-Reese stirred up enthusiastic audience participation, making the silent auction a tremendous success. Total raised that night for Colorado Coalition for the Homeless: $4,475.00

JOSEPHINE BAKER:
In April 2006, in honor of Josephine Baker's 100th birthday, I collaborated with Imani Winds (Imani Winds) in a celebratory tour across the US of "JOSEPHINE BAKER: A LIFE OF LE JAZZ HOT!" The brainchild of Imani Winds' Oboist Toyin Spellman, "A LIFE OF LE JAZZ HOT" is a multi-media presentation of the life of Josephine Baker, highlighting the American and French repertoire of Josephine Baker's era, plus new music specifically composed for this project by french horn player Jeff Scott and flautist Valerie Coleman. In addition to having two of my own compositions in the program, "Autobiography" and "The South Is Mine", this tour-de-force features rare silent film footage of Josephine Baker and solo dance works choreographed by Christopher Huggins and performed by Rachel Ashley. To preserve this amazing celebration, we went into the studios November 2006 to record some of the musical selections from this presentation. Released in the spring of 2007, the CD, "Josephine Baker; A Life of Le Jazz Hot" brings to life the soul and essence of "La Baker". Here is a link to a review: Le Jazz Hot Review I ended my tour of this program June 3, 2007 with a satisfying and poignant performance at the Apollo Theater in New York - the same stage 'La Baker' herself performed on in 1956. This was my second musical collaboration with Imani Winds, the first being on their 2006 grammy-nominated project 'Classical Underground'. Both recordings can be purchased at Amazon's Website.

MUSIC KITCHEN:
Speaking of the Apollo Theater, I arrived a day before the performance to sing before an audience that meant more to me than any other audience I've ever stood in front of - homeless women in a shelter. The way this happened is so amazing: After releasing my single, This is (Not) A Protest Song, I sent out an email to friends and acquaintances in the business, telling them about the project and the goals I intended to reach by means of it. If they happened to be (or know) someone who could help move things along, please let me know. And wouldn't you know it? Joe Tompkins, the drummer I'd been touring with for over a year with the Josephine Baker production e-mailed me back to say that his wife, Kelly Hall-Tompkins (one of New York City's most in-demand violinists) headed up an organization called the Music Kitchen which brings musicians before audiences that wouldn't ordinarily get to hear live music. Voila! It couldn't have been easier. Two dear friends of mine and phenomenal musicians in their own right, Elias Bailey (b) and Art Hirahara (p) joined me at the shelter that afternoon to play for these women for about 45 minutes. Please go to the website to read more about Kelly Hall-Tompkins,, the musicians she's brought in and the many lives she's touched - and changed - by means of this fantastic organization. Music Kitchen

PUBLIC RADIO:
In August of this year I interviewed with KCFR, an NPR affiliate here in Denver. The interview focused primarily on my composition "This is (not) a Protest Song" from my latest CD, "Experiment In Truth". To listen, click here: KCFR Interview then scroll down to "Wednesday, Aug 8" to listen in as Ryan Warner and I converse.

TURNER CLASSIC MOVIES:
If you love watching old movies as much as I do, you may have heard a familiar voice on the Turner Movie Classic channel singing the theme song. On May 2007, I went into the studio and recorded the theme song for the Turner Movie Classic Feature, "Private Screenings". This program runs at odd hours, but you can check the schedule here: Turner Movie Classic

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