Jazz Child: A Portrait of Sheila Jordan
Rowman & Littlefield
That Ellen Johnson's revealing portrait of Sheila Jordan is the first full biography of the eighty five-year old Pennsylvanian-born singer reaffirms the notion that the dominant jazz narrative has always lionized certain artists to the exclusion of others.
As the progenitor of the bass and vocal duo Jordan was an innovative figure from the get go. Instigator of arguably the first solo jazz vocal program in America in the late 1970s and one of the finest exponents of scat that's ever drawn breath, Jordan's influence as a creative musician and educator has been significant yet until quite late in her life, undervalued.
Jordan's rightful place in the annals of jazz history, Johnson notes, is in part because she "helped blaze a path for women in music during a suppressed era." That era in question was the bebop era of the 1940s and 1950s, when Jordan first set out on an extraordinary journey that has justifiably brought her comparison with Billie Holiday
and Betty Carter
Jordan's achievements, as Johnson depicts, are as much defined by the stands she has taken on basic human rights as they are for her music. As a single mother Jordan was already going against the social conventions of the time. As a partner in a mixed-race marriage and as a white singer in an Afro-American vocal trio she challenged the racial segregation and racial discrimination then rife in the United States of America.
Jordan's story is a catalog of triumphs over disasters and what comes across, perhaps even more than her resilience, is a refusal to bemoan the cards she was dealt. Abandoned by her father as a child, Jordan's mother was an alcoholic as was her grandfather who co-raised Jordan until she was fourteen. A victim of physical and emotional abuse from a number of the men in her life, Jordan has also suffered alcohol and drug addiction and racist attacks, not to mention having her house burnt to the ground by lightning. Yet, like a punch-drunk fighter who keeps beating the count, Jordan has risen above it all to become one of jazz's most important and enduring vocalists.
Johnson's biographical input is refreshingly lean, leaving the meat of the tale to the subject herself or those closest to her. We learn how Jordan grew up in poverty in a mining town where the shadow of death was never far away. The alcoholism that surrounded her growing up would eventually ensnare Jordan in adulthood but neither biographer nor subject goes into too many gory details. After all, how many falling-down-drunk stories does it take to get the picture?
Jordan beat the demon drink only then to fall for cocaine: "I just switched seats on The Titanic," she quips. That the text doesn't linger on Jordan's drug habits perhaps distinguishes this book from a raft of other music biographies but what we don't learn is to what extent, if any, Jordan's addictions affected her music and career.
As a teenager, Jordan was smitten by Charlie Parker
's music: "After the first four notes I was hooked. I got goose bumps and I instantly knew that was the music I had been waiting to hear and would dedicate my life to singing." Jordan forged a birth certificate, donned high-heels and lit a Lucky Strike in a desperate attempt to enter the clubs Parker frequented in Detroit. When that failed she would hang out in the back alleyalong with Kenny Burrell
to hear Parker play and she learned all his songs.
"I didn't learn the songs with the intention of becoming a professional singer," relates Jordan. "I did it because I absolutely loved the music and was compelled to learn it. I did it to keep my sanity, to keep my voice alive, and because I needed to sing this music." Jordan befriended Parker when she later moved from Detroit to New York and draws a compassionate picture of the saxophonist as a genuinely caring individualmost of the timewho turned her onto Stravinsky and Bartok.
Parker, along with a long list of bebop legends would often gather at Jordan's loft to hang out and jam in the 1950s. This is one area of the book that Johnson and Jordan could have elaborated on, given that the jazz-loft scene is always referred to as a phenomenon of the free-jazz movement of the 1970s. Similarly, we learn little of Jordan's teacher Lennie Tristano
, who Jordan dropped after he advised her to leave her heroin-taking husbandand Parker's pianistDuke Jordan