Wynton in Vogue: Race and Luxury

The latest issue of Vogue features the above picture, an Annie Leibovitz-composed portrait of the ever-dapper King Wynton rehearsing with the JALC orchestra. A quick glance at the photo might leave one with the impression that it’s a standard glamour shot, but another look brings into focus a curiously sprawled blonde, almost camouflage against the teak floor. As Patrick Jarenwattananon asked when he posted a link to the photo on his NPR blog, “what's with the sitting woman?”

After reading Patrick’s question and looking at the photo, I began to grasp at the strands of a few possible answers—none of them positive for the music. After the initial surprise at seeing a pretty, well-dressed woman gazing at our unsuspecting hero, I found it hard to ignore the issue of race. Here is a powerful black man being ogled by a seemingly helpless white woman, a pairing rife with historical precedent from Kong to LeBron. While this photo doesn’t scream jungle rape like that infamous Vogue cover (note: same magazine), there’s a faint, unnerving echo played out in the way that Leibovitz arranges her principals. The woman looks both available and immobile (standing up from that pose would take some doing) and Marsalis towers above her. There’s a tragic history of objectifying black masculinity in the eyes of white femininity, and the photo's resonance with that history makes troubling Leibovitz’s decision to use a white model as smitten damsel before her black captor.

It’s also hard not to notice the privileging of white over black beauty: the photo might still smack of gender inequality with a black model, but it wouldn’t recall Jim Crow. In 1957, when Columbia Records showed Miles Davis the first LP cover to Miles Ahead, he famously quipped to producer George Avakian, “Why'd you put that white bitch on there?” Subsequent additions of the album showed a picture of Davis playing his horn and when Davis’s later album covers showed women, they were always black*. Annie Leibovitz is a powerful artist who gets her way, but if she had set-up a similar shoot for Miles, I imagine he’d have given her a cold stare and repeated what he said to Avakian. Marsalis might have considered a similar rebuke.

It’s easy to blame Leibovitz for these racial overtones, but there’s another possibility: perhaps Leibovitz, completely aware of what she’s doing, has merely given us an honest artistic interpretation of Marsalis. I think there’s plenty to admire about Wynton and Jazz at Lincoln Center: he’s an extraordinary musician (a fact that really sunk in after reading Ethan Iverson’s discussion of the Young Lions) and he’s built a home in which jazz is taken seriously and musicians are well paid, which, given the music’s history, is an epochal achievement. (I’d much rather listen to jazz at a small club than at Jazz at Lincoln Center, but if you were to have asked Thelonious Monk in 1952 if he’d rather keep playing that out-of-tune upright for less than a hundred bucks a night or play a Bösendorfer grand in a concert hall for a $10,000 fee, I’m inclined to think he would have bolted for JALC at the earliest chance.)

This advancement has come with a steep price, however, namely the commodification of jazz as a luxury good. Wynton poses in ads for Movado watches (he wears one in the photo as well) and leads an institution that rents space in a gilded corporate palace alongside New York’s two most expensive restaurants. Tickets to JALC are expensive and its patrons affluent, which makes for great business but a questionable breeding ground for great art. In this context, maybe the white woman isn’t a helpless Ann Darrow, but just another perfect accessory for jazz’s greatest salesman.

* Update: Commenter Il Maestro points out that the cover of Miles's Porgy and Bess (released after Miles Ahead) depicts the trumpeter and a white woman. Il Maestro says that the Marsalis photo reminded him first of the Porgy cover and I can see why. I responded at length to Il Maestro in the comments section and while I realize this post is walking some rather precarious interpretative ground, I think the Marsalis Vogue photo encapsulates a lot of ideas about Wynton, the JALC, and jazz history that make it worth exploring.

With respect to a comparison between Davis's Porgy cover and the Marsalis photo, I wrote this: "I did find the staging of the [Marsalis] photo indicative of the power imbalance of those old racist pairings—the helpless white woman gazing up at the big, mighty black man—and if I were to draw a separation between Miles's Porgy cover and the Wynton Vogue photo it would be on those grounds: Miles and his companion are clearly a couple, on the same level, and each occupying half of the frame."

Comments

[il maestro]

You know, when I saw this picture, I immediately thought of the album cover to Miles's "Porgy and Bess". Thoughts?

[Eric Benson]

Hmmm...you raise a very good point that I obviously overlooked. The Porgy and Bess cover shows a suggestive white female leg and accompanying hand tugging on Miles' trumpet. I've never really understood that cover—and would be happy for some explication from Il Maestro or anyone else—especially since the protagonists of "Porgy and Bess" are both black. A quick Google search turned up little on the cover, save a post that claims the woman was Miles' wife (or future wife).

One counterargument that occurred to me while writing the Marsalis post was that presenting an interracial couple—especially an admiring one (after all, it's not like Wynton is doing anything to her that's untoward)—should be taken as a positive. After all, when the president himself is the product of an interracial marriage, why should the image of a black man and a white woman register as the least bit reactionary?

Rather than recalling those King Kong scenarios, I think the problem with the Wynton Vogue spread mostly lies in its reinforcement of our cultural bias toward white beauty, especially in the luxury market, and especially in high fashion (black models like Naomi Campbell are very much the exception). I did find the staging of the photo indicative of the power imbalance of those old racist pairings—the helpless white woman gazing up at the big, mighty black man—and if I were to draw a separation between Miles' Porgy cover and the Wynton Vogue photo it would be on those grounds: Miles and his companion are clearly a couple, on the same level, and each occupying half of the frame.

Now, for all I know, the woman in the Vogue picture is Wynton's girlfriend and he insisted she be in the shot. Wynton has never been married, but he had two children with Candace Stanley and one with Victoria Rowell. I certainly encourage Wynton to make love with whomever he pleases. (As Stanley Crouch famously quipped, Wynton "has access to and has had access to a far higher quality of female than any of [his critics] could ever imagine.") That said, I think the image is potent no matter the private relationship between Marsalis and the woman, and I hope it will generate more discussion.

[Blocho]

Sorry EB, I'm not seeing it. The presence of a young, beautiful woman I think only serves to convey an impression of Marsalis as a man of allure. Gender and sex are elements here, but I think any indication of a racial subtext emanates more from the viewer than from anything in the photograph.

Frankly, I'm far more intrigued by the Porgy and Bess cover. I can't help but think of that scene early in Bonnie and Clyde when Faye Dunaway coquettishly fondles Warren Beatty's gun. For me, this photo expresses the longstanding fetishism of black masculinity vis-a-vis white femininity, in this instance with the trumpet replacing (or perhaps complementing) the more obvious implement.

[il maestro]

Yeah I always wondered what the deal was vis-a-vis a biracial reading of "Porgy", but I frankly think this was just a juxtaposition of two totally different ideas: 1) the music of "Porgy" and 2) a kind of social/marketing message re: the racial/sexual tension of the cover. Or the real solution could just be that it was Frances Taylor on the cover, Miles' then main squeeze and he wanted her on there.

I wonder if any of the artists or management ever thought about the whole idea of representing the original story more "correctly" or if this was a sort of artistic response to the original concept.

[Redheadjazzwriterchick]

Give me a day to digest this post and I'll be back...so says the white woman, who is rather quite fond of Wynton, of course only as an interviewed subject and as a musician who regularly blows my socks off with his sheer talent and ability and as the musician I picked to use his interview for the preface of my book. He is articulate, kind and has never treated me with anything but respect.

I think the "artistic" statement Annie Leibovitz portrays in this photo and in many of her photos is not racist in quality, but rooted in beauty. Wynton is a beautiful person. So is the woman sitting on the floor, admiringly looking up at him while he plays. I believe the tweed in her dress matches or at least in its immediate pallet matches the vest on Wynton. But if you look closer at all of the musicians present in this photo, you can see that they're all beautiful. They're dressed well, at least that's what I can tell from the ones we can see. And as you point out, the interracial couple aspect of all of this is common ground now.

But where I do agree with you Eric, is the plight that jazz has been portrayed as this elitist form of art. Jazz didn't start out this way and from what I can tell everytime I've walked into the 55 Bar for a Binney show or Nat Janoff or whoever, the crowd is a mixed crowd, mostly MSM or NS students and whatnot. Jazz, given its history and rise and fall and rise again to the middle ground, has the ability to reach folks of any race, creed, monetary status and geographical area. The fact that Wynton and the JALC can charge the kind of money they do for patrons to attend their concerts isn't unheard of. Look at Chris Botti's concerts, Patti Austin, ANYONE in the jazz field that is a known success. They charge a healthy amount to attend their performances.

But, that, to me is a good thing. And, to tell you the truth, if you asked Wynton how much the management at JALC was charging folks to attend the concert, he probably wouldn't have a clue. It's a business decision. But I can't pretend to know what he is thinking or where he's coming from other than what he's told me for the book about his background and where he's at today. Anyone who, like Wynton, can successfully bring jazz to a mass audience, is doing a good job in my eyes.

I'm very glad someone like Wynton appears in ads for Modavi and with conservatively clad beautiful women in Vogue. It brings an audience to the music that may have scoffed at the fact that it was "only" served up at the underground locations. Either way, the dual aspect audience for jazz (undergrounders and those sitting at Dizzy's sipping 20 buck martini's and eating soul food with a hefty tag) is a positive in every way, shape and form. Afterall, it's ALL jazz. It's just too bad that people in outlying cities and those in very small towns across America don't have the choices NY'ers have on a nightly basis. NY'ers are spoiled in that way and should be thankful that they can eat and dine with the best while listening to Ron Blake or Nneena Freelon or Allan Harris or they can buy a 5 dollar beer, pay a 10 buck cover to Kirby and see Jacob Sacks and David Binney create something that belongs in the stratosphere of genius.

Okay..I'm off topic now. But, as a woman, I find nothing wrong with this picture. As a white woman, I find nothing wrong with the position this woman is in next to Wynton. As a jazz critic/journalist/writer etc...I think this is a good thing for all of jazz regardless of it's "racial implications."

[Hnic1971]

Interesting.

As a black musician, I see the racial angle. There has always been an undercurrent of race in jazz (or rock, blues and R&B for that matter)-especially the white adulation or savior element from women and men. This picture doesn't bother me so much. I think black/brown women have come a long way with being accepted as sex symbols and objects/standards of beauty. Plus-size women as well. I'm thinking of Revlon model Queen Latifah, Michelle Obama, Oprah Winfrey, Eva Longoria Parker, Halle Berry, Zoe Saldana (Uhuru in the Star Trek movie) plus many more.

As for the economic message, as a fan, I wish jazz (and quality music in general) was more assessable to public. As a working musician, I would play for JALC for $10,000 than my weekly gig that is BYOB $5 entry and averages about $25 per man for 2 sets. Jazz is an elitest intellectual art form. I have no problem with that. As rock, blues, R&B, funk etc. grew in popularity jazz became not as intellectually easy for most people. That's the way it is. I live in Austin and musicians that just play jazz cannot make a living on it. They must be diverse to work. I lived in NYC for a while, too. I do miss the genius cheap jazz that was available compared to Austin. But the interesting about smaller towns is that when great jazz artists come to town, it is a lot easier to get tickets. I just saw Dianne Reeves at One World Theatre here in ATX for free and the house was about half full.

The beautiful thing about jazz-talking about it, playing it, listening to it-it gets you off topic but brings you home in the end.

The pic didn't bother me, but it I understand the racial aspect of it.

[Bottsbuble]

So I read the post 2x; & the 2nd reading I went all the way thru the comments-the was irritated at myself as should have stopped & went with gut instinct before having other opinions & interpretations taint my view of the picture.
So back to my 1st instinct- essentially "what's with the chick?" I didn’t miss her at all; she popped right out at me. Then I read and read, well then I digested, extra comments and all--we all probably have seen this scenario...
Consider the following view on it: it is reminiscent of a preschool class where the teacher sits upon a chair sharing with the floor-seated children the wisdom of the day (be it a book, a song, a letter). There is a chair for the woman available (look to the left of her); but she is purposefully placed in a position on inferiority-not of sex or race, but of knowledge. Had she not been in a skirt, she may have sat w legs crossed mirroring small children in a circle. She is looking not in fear or with a subservient gaze, but with a face of content interest in what is being shown. She looks only at the teacher.
As for the apparent use of black male & white woman, I feel it is less a sex & race issue, and more a purposeful point- she is an adult, beautiful, educated (as inferred by her suit) woman, interested in the skill he is most proficient at- jazz music. And what better a teacher of things jazz than a black male with huge talent and a horn! It wouldn’t of worked any other way, a black woman would have been assumed knowledgeable in jazz, but a white woman in a suit-probably not. (If we were to set this same style picture forth for say kung-fu, we would have seen an Asian male upright and towering over again a person of non-Asian decent whether it be male or female).
Interestingly enough when my mind began to wander it did also bring in the image of Christ sitting upon a rock speaking to his followers, all seated on the ground, though there was always room on the rock for others. But he was the teacher, his words and thoughts where important, and no one there was an equal.

[gabo]

all the other musicians are reading and playing their music. wynton is special because he has turned away. just like at the saturday morning children's programs in the nineteennineties Alice Tully Hall, Wynton's horn speaks in aside. He is teaching jazz. Teaching how it works yes, but even more, teaching why it matters.
That's the question that the Vogue reader needs to know. Why? Because knowing the answer is like knowing whether the young ladies' suit is herringbone or donegal tweed. It is knowledge which will confer status. There are many musicians pictured, but our damsel, the vogue gal, has had the sense to curl up under "the right one". Wynton is a willing teacher. It is precisely his desire to "demystify" jazz that has seen him criticized in the past. This is because the kind of knowledge that he is offering does not in any historical way "belong" to the blond who stands in for the cultured white woman reading the magazine. Jazz is black. And so Wynton being "the right one" can easily slip into his being "the right kind". The category here, of course left politely inferred. He, is the kind of black man who we (as vogue readers) can learn from. Am I wrong to say that this is part of the heat Wynton has taken in the jazz world?
Liebovitz's position could be anywhere from replicating this reification, to parodying it, or maybe just flatly recording it. Any of the functions work in the interests of the advertising because so long as you "get it", that is, you understand that people do (and or should) listen reverently when Marsalis blows, you are affirmed in the brand of your experience, of its relatibility, of its correctness. The products that go with it (like the Movado watch) are at that point self-explanatory. Any artistic choices that may have been made by Liebovitz are thus emptied of their content.

As for Miles, I am inclined to believe that the composition of the photo, Miles personal decision or not, is much more politically provocative. This is "hands on" learning as they say at progressive school. The woman, whose face is absent, is unknown, Miles is reduced to his horn. Just the basics. "No names", as Brando said. In my view, the message here, to quote another cultural touchstone is, "Ooh baby I like it raw."

[Blocho]

Definitely not Herringbone. I don't know what Donegal Tweed is.

Notable, though, as Gabo points out, how apart Wynton is - geographically, sartorially, axially. Is Wynton rebelling? But how can he stick it to the man when he is the man? And is his jump shot still any good?