By Hank Reineke
The fifteenth annual New York City Independent Film
Festival was held during the week of June 4 through 11 at Manhattan’s
Producer’s Club on West 44th Street, a few blocks west of Times
Square. The week-long festival would
host the screenings of over two hundred indie films. Co-Directors John Anderson and Bob Sarles' absorbing and
authoritatively assembled music doc Born
in Chicago, screened on the festival’s final day, doesn’t pretend to serve
as the definitive nor most academically-minded treatise on the history of blues
music in America. Such studies as the seven-episode
PBS series The Blues (2003) had
already touched lightly on many aspects of multi-layered history of the blues
in America. This film’s primary interest
lies elsewhere.
The state of Mississippi, the birthplace of the blues and
home of some of the music’s greatest practitioners is, of course, referenced
early on in Born in Chicago. But the fertile musical and agricultural area
surrounding the Mississippi Delta region serves merely as the pregnant preface of
what’s to come. There’s no mention that
I can recall of the high-end music of band leader W.C. Handy, the
self-proclaimed “Father of the Blues,” or of Ma Rainy, “Mother of the Blues” or
even of such a master figure as songster Charley Patton, the acknowledged progenitor
of the rough and tumble country blues.
Alan Lomax’s 1941-1942 Library of Congress recordings of one
McKinley Morganfield (soon to be rechristened as “Muddy Waters”) down on
Stovall’s Plantation near Clarksdale, MS is briefly referenced in Born in Chicago, but only in
passing. The film recalls Waters as merely
one of the many immigrant blues singers who, among non-musical travelers and those
feeling racism and economic hardship, would abandon Mississippi - and neighboring
states - to seek employment in Chicago’s burgeoning meat-packing and steel industries.
The blues singers arriving in the Windy City would often perform
for pocket change on Chicago’s fabled Maxwell Street, and there’s a bit of
historic film footage included in the film to document it. But ultimately Born in Chicago assumes that a knowledgeable blues aficionado is already
conversant with the complex reasons that Chicago would birth the raw and
immeasurably emotive electric blues. Born in Chicago soon time-jumps from a
basic introductory primer to a particular moment in history – a period roughly
encompassing 1964 through 1970 - when public interest in the blues music would peculiarly
shift along color lines.
Though the blues was created by black artists for a
primarily black audience, by the mid-1960s it was lovingly embraced by a cabal
of young, white and often gifted musicians. In some sense these mostly suburban
youngsters were oddballs. Not only were
they complete outsiders to African-American life and musical culture, but estranged
from even their own middle-class heritages. The best of them were determined to apprentice with the real-deal blues masters
whose recordings they had painstakingly studied and cherished.
Such Chicago blues artists as Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf
(aka Chester Burnett), and Little Walter Jacobs were at their musical – if not money-earning
career peaks – in the 1950s. Though
Chicago boasted any number of record labels pressing 78 rpm discs of the talent
grinding their music out almost nightly in such saloons as Pepper’s Lounge, Silvio’s,
Smitty’s Corner, Big John’s, the Blue Flame Lounge, and Frost’s Corner, it was
Chess Records that emerged the most important and iconic. Though label co-founder Leonard Chess appears
in an archive footage interview alongside his son Marshall, Born in Chicago wisely chooses not to revisit
the company’s backstory. That’s a tale
already told in several docs as well as in Darnell Martin’s ill-disguised
Chess-mirror fiction-feature Cadillac
Records (2008).
There’s lots of archival footage threaded throughout Born in Chicago. Some of the film’s moodiest and most intimate
saloon environ images come courtesy of several reels of silent B-roll 8mm color
footage shot by drummer Sam Lay and his wife. Lay is an important figure here due to his key role in the blues tradition’s
transition: he not only worked the South Side taverns with nearly all the blues
giants but was also a founding member (along with bassist Jerome Arnold) in the
inter-racial Paul Butterfield Blues Band.
Though not a concert film by any means – all performances
featured in Born in Chicago are
offered in truncated form - there are extended clips of Muddy Waters and Howlin’
Wolf to offer insight into the power of their stage presence and hypnotic
powers. This inclusion is not
unreasonable as the two singers were the figurehead totems of the Chicago blues
scene of the 1950s. Muddy and Wolf were
also among the most generous and least suspicious of interlopers. They were
appreciative of the enthusiasm and interest of these young, white blues
revivalists and allowed them to share the stage and showcase their talents.
Of course, Muddy and Wolf didn’t singularly or together
create the Chicago blues scene. During
the course of Born in Chicago we’re briefly
introduced to a number of the first and second wave Chicago’s bluesmen, as well
as the iconic sidemen who helped create the sound: Otis Spann, Yank Rachel,
Robert Lockwood, Willie Dixon, Junior Wells, Sonny Boy Williamson, Otis Rush,
Buddy Guy, Hubert Sumlin, Magic Sam, Walter and Big Walter “Shakey” Horton all pass
through the film in either image or musical snippet, all honorably referenced as
“engines” of the scene.
Though the blues was derived partly from African musical traditions,
the blues as the world knows it today was birthed in the area of the
Mississippi Delta. Chicago blues was, at
the very beginning anyway, mostly an electric, highly amplified extension of
that earlier homegrown music, improvised out-of-necessity to cut through the
din of celebratory patrons gathered inside cramped and sweaty neighborhood
taverns.
The 1950s was the decade Chicago’s blues scene was at its
creative peak. The musicians who arrived
in Chicago during the great migration from the southern U.S. quickly bonded to
a natural audience. They were warmly
embraced by audiences that were once – and now again - neighbors. The musicians and their fans shared similar customs,
life experiences and musical interests, and such familiarity allowed Chicago’s
blues scene to thrive during the 1950s.
But by the early 1960s, the musical tastes of black
audiences began to shift, particularly among younger listeners. This group held no bonding memories or immediate
connections to blues or rustic southern musical culture. The rhythm-and-blues and soul of Sam Cooke,
Jackie Wilson, and James Brown was in emergence and such artists were now the most
favored of black audiences. It wasn’t
long until the Motown and Stax labels would supplant Chess as the recording
mecca for black artists.
But just as black interest in blues was seemingly on the wane,
there was a sudden curious interest in the art by young, rebellious and hip
Midwestern middle-class whites. Their
passion for the music was often ignited by their discovery of late-night
broadcasts of blues and old-school R&B found on the far ends of their radio
dials. Many of these disciples – which would
include such 1960’s blues and rock luminaries as Barry Goldberg, Michael Bloomfield,
Nick Gravenites, Paul Butterfield, Corky Siegel, Harvey Mandel, Charlie Musselwhite,
Elvin Bishop, Steve Miller and Bob Dylan – are all featured in Born in Chicago. It could be argued they were actually re-born in Chicago.
In any case, this is the time period under analysis in Born in Chicago. Liberal and open-minded students attending (or
merely hanging on the fringes) of the University of Chicago – the campus itself
nestled within the city’s Southside – played a role in the blossoming blues
revival. Through the interventions of on-campus
folk music clubs Chicago U. would stage not only small folk-music gatherings
but several important folk music festivals – several showcasing such blues artists
as Willie Dixon, Memphis Slim, Big Joe Williams and blind street singer Arvella
Gray. This new interest in folk-blues
music brought many students and scene hanger-on’s to Chicago’s pawn shops in
search of guitars and friends and subsequent musical fellow travelers.
The most dedicated – and talented of these musicians –
would reverse “integrate” these black-only Southside blues taverns - often under
the suspicious and unwelcome gaze of black patrons in attendance. But both Muddy and Wolf and their respective
band members would embrace such musicians as guitarist Michael Bloomfield and blues
harpist Paul Butterfield et.al. once they realized these searching white
youngsters – many demonstrating superlative musical talent – were looking to absorb,
as best they could, the essence and emotional comport of the blues.