The celebration of a famous life always poses a dilemma for storytellers because it means having to decide what is relevant and what can be left on the editing floor. For those who received the Kennedy Center Honors this month, their lives are examined through their creative triumphs and they are given a national pat on the back for their contributions to the arts. When their stories are told, it's impossible not to walk away awe-struck.
Some of the most inspiring musicians have been honored, including jazz artist Ella Fitzgerald and opera soloist Marilyn Horne. There have been musicians who have focused on gospel, soul, rock and pop.
But few blues musicians have been given Kennedy Center Honors since they were first handed out in 1978. There have been those whose work has undeniably been inspired by the blues. And there have even been entertainers such as Tina Turner, whose life story of poverty and domestic abuse has unfolded like blues lyrics. But aside from B.B. King and Ray Charles, those who peddled the blues have not been feted during the weekend-long celebration.
The Honors focus on uplift. You walk away from the blues feeling drained and spent. That is the nature -- and the beauty -- of the music.
The only rule is that the recipient must be living and willing to accept the Honors in person. Have all the blues greats passed away? Or are they still too busy suing record companies and rock bands to claim the royalties they are owed to come to Washington?
If there's any lesson learned from “Cadillac Records," it's that the blues is messy. It doesn't have the controlled aloofness of jazz. In the film, the music is sung by grown-ups who have known pain. They are not smooth.
There's something about the blues that seems almost too untamed and oozy for an institution like the Kennedy Center. Without the blues, there would have been no Chuck Berry -- a Kennedy Center honoree in 2000 and played by Mos Def in “Cadillac Records" -- and without him there would have been no rock 'n' roll.
