Square Roots

Wynton Marsalis celebrates the birthplace of jazz.

by A.D. Amorosi

In the notes to his CD From the Plantation to the Penitentiary, Wynton Marsalis wrote, "How do you use your time on earth? Will you use it wisely?" When you ask Marsalis � educator, social critic, trumpet-playing member of America's first family of jazz � this question, he's quick to respond that becoming the artistic director for Jazz at Lincoln Center was his wisest move. But most daring? That'd be Congo Square, Marsalis' evening-length collaborative composition with Ghanian drummer Yacub Addy. "Nothing like this has ever happened in the history of our music, where we got that close to the bell rhythms and the meaning of the music," says Marsalis of Congo Square's blend of jazz's 4/4 swing and African 6/8 rhythms. The album takes its name from a square in New Orleans (now part of Louis Armstrong Park) that from the 18th century to the mid-19th century was the only place in America where slaves could gather to drum and dance.

City Paper: Would you consider Congo Square a playful bookend to the more sorrowful tale of slavery told in your Blood on the Fields?

Wynton Marsalis: Well, certainly there's festivity among the slaves in Congo, but not so much a bookend, you know. I'll write real follow-ups to Blood on the Fields one day. But there is festivity here: people out at a Sunday market having a good time, reconnecting with themselves and their traditions, creating a new tradition with the acrobatic nature of dancers and the virtuosity of the musicians. It's people chattering and talking and dancing. It grooves.

CP: You weren't really up on Yacub Addy's brand of Ghanian tradition. Was that a desired challenge when approaching collaboration?

WM: No, I wasn't familiar. But after we spoke and after I heard him, I wanted it. But listening to someone play and trying to play with them when they're from a different culture is very difficult. So I had to study, you know? I learned a lot and how to do it: what bell patterns work and the beats they played on. Our bassist grew up in the Afro-Latin tradition. He, I and our drummer sat down poring over the tapes � hour after hour � that Yacub's group made for us. There were lots of arguments, but we figured something out.

CP: What is your personal recollection of Congo Square? It was Louis Armstrong Park when you grew up.

WM: Truthfully? That it was a basketball court that you could play some good ball on if you so desired [laughs] right beside a musical auditorium. I'm from another section of town, but I had relatives nearby the park. And friends. So we just balled. We didn't know the Congo Square thing. But it truly was a municipal auditorium. I saw my first shows there � pop concerts like James Brown in 1967.

CP: Congo Square is an improvisation-heavy piece. Was it difficult for you, since the rhythms were so unfamiliar?

WM: Ah, there were a lot of challenges in that. Any brand of collaboration means leaving space for the other guy � space in arrangements, taking into account the contrapuntal nature of their music, making sure its spirit stays clear and what it means to their culture. And Yacub's a stickler for meaning. He's always prying, "What's that mean?" But it was lot of fun. The real joy came in the joy in Yacub. Because I knew we had honored his music.

Wynotn Marsalis with the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra, Yacub Addy and Odadaa!

Fri., June 15, 8 p.m., $29-$54, Mann Center for the Performing Arts, 52nd Street and Parkside Avenue, 215-893-1999, www.manncenter.org