By Janet Lawson

Dear Ken Burns,

Your documentary on jazz offered a golden opportunity for reawakening the ears, hearts and minds of society to the profundity and spiritual dimensions of this great music. What you presented said ­ to those who may have listened to jazz but who may have come away assuming it was an exclusive, secular, uneducated, lightweight presence or, on the other hand, an intellectual, elitist, egomaniacal indulgence ­ that this music, jazz, holds a key element of what it means to be human. That playing together, black and white, offers acceptance ­ that improvising together invites discovery, appreciation and mutual respect ­ that learning the tradition of the music that came before us honors our elders - and that taking it to a new place lights the way for us all.

All this is what you offered. And so I am soulfully sad that all of these beautiful expressions of what the music gives us left out so much of what makes this music what it is ­ the contribution of women in jazz, especially the instrumentalists. Jazz couldn’t have been birthed without its feminine side. To omit this law of nature in a setting that reaches millions perpetuates untruths about this music and continues to pass on concepts that make women’s contributions rare, exceptional and unimpactful.

Consider Lil Hardin Armstrong’s contributions alone. To say she played piano with King Oliver and married Louis is to diminsh the enormity of her presence during that period in jazz. It was Lil who encouraged Louis to take classical trumpet lessons. It was Lil who notated the music, arranged it and had it copywritten. And, it was Lil who wrote “Struttin’ With Some Barbecue” (assumed that L. Armstrong meant Louis).

In 1979, when I discussed with Rosetta Reitz the production of a musical about women jazz musicians entitled, Jass Is A Lady, (for which I had composed the music and co-wrote with lyricist Diane Snow) which was granted by the NEA, accepted by the ASCAP Workshop and ultimately produced by Playwrights Horizons, she said to me, “I’ll give you a list of women in jazz which I hope will be helpful to you.” Thanks to her commitment to chronicling jazz women’s existence, this 7- page, 2-column document exists and was a shocking revelation to me of the pervasive yet unacknowledged presence of women in jazz.

Lil Hardin Armstrong is just one of hundreds of women in the history of jazz, who, if continued to be excluded, will say to young women looking for their heritage ­ as was done by the omission of blacks, by the omission of women in society ­ that women didn’t do anything meaningful ­ that women made no major contributions, ‘cause if they had, it would be there in the books as part of the whole picture and not as a separate category (women in jazz ­ not jazz players). This omission is perpetuating self-fulfilling prophesies in jazz. In giving pianist Joanne Brackeen her deserved recognition yet not mentioning that Sarah and Dinah were piano players in the church before they became singers or not elaborating on the respect other pianists, like Cecil Taylor, had for Mary Lou Williams so that viewers know they are part of a lineage and not anomalies, distorts major players’ impact in the development of the music.

To leave out the images of saxophonist Vi Redd, trumpet player Valaida Snow, bassist Carline Ray, drummer Terri Lyne Carrington, the current noman’s band DIVA led by drummer Sherrie Maricle and pianists extraordinaire Renee Rosnes and Roberta Piket is an injustice to the women instrumentalists of today looking for their role models in our past as well as in our present. I know your decision to present the last 20 years of jazz as an overview left out in- depth recognition of many jazz greats. However, there were passing references that could have broadened people’s awareness had they included these women instrumentalists, as well as others, breaking barriers and having something to say.

Because of your commitment to creating your series on jazz, you hold a position of powerful influence and responsibility for educating, enlightening and marking the paths of those who came before us as well as removing the darkness for the “steps ahead” (also an important omission).

I am one voice in this family of jazz but I speak for the voices of all the women who came before me and I hope you hear us.