Part one: Homegrown Attitude
I’m sure that every region in the US has its own set of stereotypes. And the state of Maine has its fair share: Ornery fisherman and their salt crusted accents, hoards of rural yokels cruising around in pick-ups, and a cast of characters from a Stephen King novel, all inhabit this patch of woods which the rest of the country considers part of Canada. And we all eat lobster. Hardly the environment that comes to mind when we think of images of jazz let alone avant-jazz. To be sure, as a whole, Maine has its fair share of xenophobic, gun-totin’, homo-hatin’ Christian white supremacists. And because there’s a conservative culture here, it gives the outward appearance that there is a dearth of innovative activity, but at the same time this kind of subtle oppression adds fuel to the fire of the rebellious types. Not to say that us creative Mainers are simply reactionary to our environs. As a matter of fact I don’t know of any artist or musist whose creative work is a direct response to Maine’s conservative bent. Certainly many of us gravitate to Portland to escape the isolation of more rural parts in order to be among a greater density of compatriots. But at the same time when us creative weirdos do venture off into the sticks there is a kind of acceptance of the odd duckling in the community. My opening brash description of the stereotypical Mainer was just that, a surface image of what the outta-state-ah might see. But Mainers have a subtle hidden quality that you kind of have to live with in order to observe. Mainers one and all have an odd understanding that we do things differently here. Perhaps all rural regions of the country have similar outlooks, but Maine has a long cultural history of this attitude and it has hard-wired a little rebelliousness into our psyche. The phrase “Yankee ingenuity” captures this notion somewhat. It’s an attitude that figures that there must be a simpler way to do something seemingly complicated. We take pride in our simplified if inelegant (i.e. ducted-taped) solutions to a given problem, be it fixing a leaning cupboard door with garbage bag ties or forming a whole musical repertoire from stuff found in dumpsters. This ingenuity, in its geographic isolation, will sometimes attempt to imitate something its not entirely in tune with. The ending results usual have an awkward bi-polar aspect with one foot in a radically new approach and the other foot stuck in the woefully archaic. But this is an entirely American cultural way and an apt summary of how both jazz and rock n’ roll originated. I was recently reminded by id M Theft able that Mainers are also stubborn and blunt. Stubbornness as it relates to creativity can be good and or bad. In the bad sense of stubborn, you can get stuck in your ways. This is a form of stagnation. When in this mindset the creative work produced lacks spark. On the good end of the stubborn stick your ideas gain a clear focus, bordering on the monomaniacal. It can make you impervious to criticism and trendsetters who may steer you down roads you really need not take. Work produced in this mode is very special indeed. I like to think of my stubbornness as a honing of my idiosyncrasies. I’m not stuck in my ways but I do stick with ways that work. I think we Maine creators are also saved from our own stubbornness mire by our ability to not take ourselves too seriously (a horrible fate for anything avant-garde). And our fall back saving grace is that we also have a wicked sly sense of humor. But obviously we, in the Pine Tree State, are not avant-guardists one and all, far from it. But what I do want to point out is that for the creative few of us who daringly function outside the norm there is kind of an unspoken acceptance by our philistine neighbors. (Probably stemming from another Yankee trait: Minding one’s own business.) This thought leads me back to the Jazz angle of this essay. Jazz is not a native music to Maine. Duh! There are in fact precious few places that can lay that claim to that: New Orleans, St. Louis, Chicago and New York City. In general jazz is an itinerant art form rather than an indigenous one. (Looking at the examples I just mentioned you can see that it basically traveled from New Orleans up the Mississippi to St. Louis and Chicago and also some how got, like most things, to New York City.) Jazz is always on the move. Now in order to wed jazz to the state of Maine I’d have to do quite a bit of credulity stretching, so I’m not even going to attempt this tact. What I do want to emphasize is the Maine attitude of shunning yet quietly accepting the “different” and how that parallels the concept of jazz as a dumping ground for styles that we can’t otherwise explain. The word jazz tends to be an umbrella term for indescribable music and the affinity I’m trying to point out is with Maine’s curiosity with things indescribable. I have a suspicion that this character of Maine comes from the Franco influence in this state. Considering that the Creole influence in the period of New Orleans that birthed jazz, I think there must have been some distinctly French cultural characteristic that made that possible. Jazz historians have written much on this subject. Well just maybe, in Maine, the only other region of the US with a concentrated French influence, a similar attitude might have seeped into our mostly Anglo heritage and perhaps spiked our Yankee stoicism just a tad. To put a wrap on this, recall that I titled this essay not making Jazz in Maine but Making Avant-Jazz in Maine. I also subtitled it ‘homegrown attitude’, which is what I attempted to flesh out. Maine is home to some fresh new music ideas, which might not be apparent to those from away. I think there is an underlying kinship between the state and out-jazz. Maine is its relative geographic isolation and ostracizing via stereotype and avant-jazz in its pushing through to new boundaries share the kinship of being fellow outsiders. Eventually, what I wanted to get around to talking about is the “scene” that has been happening in Portland for the last 8-9 years, but I had to first lay down the grounding character. In Making Avant-Jazz in Maine pt.2, I’ll talk about what I see as an Avant-Jazz thing happening here.