Despite the uproar, it was still to be several decades before a jazz composer would win the Pulitzer Prize for Music. By the 1990s, it was well established that the Pulitzer in music usually went to compositions for symphony orchestra. Occasionally, small chamber ensembles, choirs, and even solo piano were selected. Only once had the award gone to an electronic composition: Mario Davidovsky’s Synchronisms No. 6 for Piano and Electronic Sound (1970). It comes as no surprise that many musicians detected a sense of exclusiveness and prejudice on behalf of the Pulitzer committee.
In 1994, notable composer and performer Gunther Schuller (who had performed with jazz musicians Dizzy Gillepsie and John Lewis) was awarded the Pulitzer for his Of Reminiscences and Reflections, a composition for large orchestra. Although Schuller was a member of the jazz community, his winning composition contained few jazz elements. In particular, it lacked a jazz sound and performance style. As a result of his win, however, Schuller was invited to adjudicate for the 1997 Pulitzer in Music. The other jury members included a jazz critic, a jazz performer, and two traditional composers. With a majority of jury members having extensive experience in jazz, the panel finally chose to award the Pulitzer to a jazz musician.
Several years earlier, the Lincoln Center had commissioned jazz artist Wynton Marsalis (b. 1961) to present a new composition. The 32-year-old Marsalis was already well known as a jazz trumpeter and composer; indeed, he had established the Lincoln Center’s own summer jazz series in 1987, and had made great progress in his mission to institutionalize jazz as a respected American art form. Although Marsalis grew up in New Orleans and interacted with important jazz musicians from a young age, most of his early training was in classical music, and it was with the intent of pursuing an orchestral career that he enrolled in the Juilliard School in 1979. Although he soon decided that his future lay in jazz, Marsalis’s background prepared him to create music that drew from a diversity of traditions, styles, and forms. In response to the Lincoln Center commission, therefore, he decided to create a work in the European oratorio tradition. Oratorios employ an orchestra and vocal soloists to tell a story, although their presentation does not incorporate costumes, sets, or acting. Instead, the story is communicated entirely through sound.
For his oratorio, which was premiered in 1994, Marsalis crafted a narrative that related the experiences of an enslaved couple. His story begins on a slave ship and ends with the protagonists striking out for the north and freedom. The two main characters are Leona and Jesse, the latter of whom was a prince before his enslavement. Over the course of Blood on the Fields, the two aid each other in adjusting to their new lives, finding hope for the future, and eventually escaping from bondage. Originally, Marsalis had intended Blood on the Fields to be “tragic the whole way through, with no redemption.” Following extensive study and reflection, however, he concluded that optimism was “a very important part of the jazz expression.” Marsalis’s attitude—as well as his music—was deeply influenced by Duke Ellington, whose work he perceived as being essentially optimistic.
In creating the music for Blood on the Fields, Marsalis drew from a variety of African American traditions, including New Orleans jazz, blues, funk, chants, field hollers, work songs, and spirituals. He wrote for a jazz orchestra of forty musicians, with an important role for himself on the trumpet. In addition to playing their instruments, the orchestra members also recite text in unison to prepare each scene. Marsalis patterned this approach on the tradition of ancient Greek theater, which employed a chorus to narrate and reflect upon events.
We will consider “Work Song (Blood on the Fields),” which is the sixth scene of the oratorio’s twenty-one. In this scene, Leona and Jesse are working in the fields, and they describe their monotonous labor and lament their unbearable situation. Although the scene follows quickly upon that in which they are purchased at auction, we are informed that in fact fourteen years have passed.
The first thing we hear is Marsalis’s trumpet. The growling sound he produces using a plunger mute is modelled on the playing of James “Bubber” Miley, who pioneered this style as a member of Ellington’s band in the 1920s. Marsalis’s improvisatory melody imitates the shapes and sounds of blues singing, although of course his playing communicates emotion without the benefit of words. In between his phrases, the members of the orchestra recite in unison.
Soon, the members of the orchestra establish a groove, which remains fairly consistent for the remainder of the scene. Throughout Blood on the Fields, Marsalis makes an effort to represent the motions and elements of each scene in music. In this case, we hear the regular rhythms of field labor. Punctuated brass exclamations and forceful drum hits emphasize the heaviness and effort of the work, while the unevenness of the rhythmic pattern suggests strain and sudden movements. The groove itself is rooted in the practices of various African and African-derived musical traditions. The process by which many distinct instruments each contribute a fragment to a complex musical whole is known as hocket, and is characteristic of black musical styles ranging from jali recitation to funk.
The regular interjections of other instruments suggest the sound and texture of New Orleans jazz, in which no single instrument carries the melody. Instead, each member of the ensemble contributes a distinct line to the texture, all of which combine to produce a rhythmic cacophony. In the case of “Work Song,” we might also hear the instruments as the voices of other enslaved workers, joining the two vocalists in protest.