Janie Gust's love for music was planted early. She began more than a decade of classical piano lessons at age four after her parents were unable to pry her away from the family piano at their home outside Chicago, Illinois. As a teenager, she was hired to play for a children's choir at a Baptist church and found the experience jolting. "I had always been told that I was a very good pianist, particularly since I had peaked at such a young age, and had even played a few recitals. Suddenly I was thrust into a situation where being able to sight-read and play fairly complex pieces as written meant absolutely nothing." That early fear and awe of musical improvisation was a factor in moving away from music later in her education.
These days, however, Janie feels she has come full circle. "Although I was exposed to lots of jazz growing up, I had avoided it somewhat over the years. I realized that I was totally in love with jazz when I spent a few months in France during 2001. It took seeing it highly valued in another culture to realize what a priceless gift we gave the world. Jazz is an experience which deserves respect and we must honor that. You don't eat filet mignon the same way you chow down a Big Mac. I believe many people are afraid or intimidated over jazz as I was, and as a result shy away from it. When it is presented in the proper context most people can and will develop an appreciation for jazz--and realize that you don't have to understand or like everything. It is such a diverse and evolving genre that the last thing it could ever be is confining." Janie is an attorney who resides in Los Angeles and New York. She may be contacted at chezjanie@gmail.com. www.lajazz.com/blog20.cfm
Lena Horne. Actress, jazz singer, consummate entertainer. Civil rights crusader. Bridge across races and religions. Who she was to you may depend on who you are to yourself.
There's a saying that the only thing that stays constant in life is change and by that measure I can say my life during 2010 has been extremely constant. I am now officially a member of the bicoastal club, schlepping back and forth across the continental U.S., a change precipitated by the recession's effect on the legal profession as well as my desire to utilize my New York law license. So despite feeling 100% Angelena for the last decade or so, I had to prepare myself for the inevitable: It was time to go back to New York. In fact, I am in New York as I write this.
Yesterday, on Friday, May 14, 2010 at a catholic church on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, I had the honor of attending the funeral of a woman who is extremely difficult to categorize. Depending on your age and persuasion, one facet of Ms. Horne may reflect more significantly in your eyes. For me, as a child, I recall her during the 1960s as a singer and former movie star from decades past. I'd see her occasionally on TV when my parents would call us to the living room saying 'Lena Horne is on!' I recall reading about her in Ebony, on her ageless beauty or her support of the civil rights movement. I recall her complex stream-of-consciousness type explanations on why she had married a white man. That, despite being highly critical of the white man's behavior towards blacks and the racial discrimination which she herself had been subjected to during her life and career. She is reported to have quipped once, "I married a white man to get even with him."
As I matured, I began to recall her as that force in The Wiz, singing 'Believe in Yourself' with raw emotion. And finally, I recall her as a woman who gave herself permission to be as feisty and outspoken as she wanted to be, damn the critics. As a young adult, I found myself drawn to her, purchasing "The Hornes", her daughter Gail's biography of the family history, a book which is still on my shelf. And I wondered how she was doing during these last few years when she dropped out of public view roughly a decade ago. When I learned she died on Mother's Day here in New York I took another listen to her music. For me, she was a great jazz singer who just got better with time.
So I was determined to say my farewell to this legend even if it meant standing outside the church. Being a New York newbie, I had to go to an unfamiliar station from my Brooklyn neighborhood to get to the Upper East Side and somehow got crossed up. Time had suddenly run short. "I'm from LA; can you tell me where the number 4 station is?" I inquired of a transit worker when I found myself at the wrong station. (For some reason, preceding a question by saying "I'm from LA" when I am in a pinch makes NYC folks very accommodating, a sort of shorthand for those times I feel like Alice-through- the-looking-glass.) I was kindly directed to go across the street. And I was on my way.
When I got to the church on Park Avenue I briefly hesitated when I saw the press lingering around. While the news release hadn't said it was a private service neither had it stated it was open to the public. Yet, having come this far dressed respectably and not
seeing masses of people turned away I marched up to the church. "Would you like to sign the guestbook?" an usher greeted me. I suddenly began feeling emotional. This was real. I signed the guestbook using my LA address, hoping to convey for posterity that there were people from throughout the country who wanted to pay their respects.
The service was beautiful. Tears streamed down my cheeks when the casket was brought into the church as I thought of how I wished I had seen her in person during her life. After the congregation sang a couple of hymns, the priest gently quipped that from the singing he could tell there were some Baptists in the congregation. That generated a laugh and quickly broke the tone of somberness. The crowd was a mix of races and persuasions and so was the service. A photo of her with late husband Lennie Hayton graced the program. Former New York mayor David Dinkins, Rep. John Lewis gave eulogies. A few elderly members of The Tuskegee Airmen were part of the program. Audra McDonald sang. Granddaughter Jenny Lumet said a few words as well as one of Ms. Horne's white in-laws.
Lena Horne. Actress, jazz singer, consummate entertainer. Civil rights crusader. Bridge across races and religions. Who she was to you may depend on who you are to yourself. For me, she was a complex and beautiful mosaic who never forgot the African-American threads that ran deeply throughout. And that reminds me of jazz.
Rest in Peace, beautiful lady.
True music must repeat the thought and inspirations of the people and the time. My people are Americans and my time is today.
– George Gershwin
Dill piccolo: a wind instrument that plays only sour notes.
