Photo by Larry Johnson
Today the Chicago Tribune published the final installment of Howard Reich’s excellent series on Chicago blues.
I first noticed the series a month ago, with the publication of the third installment, a fascinating article about the gap between struggling historic blues clubs on Chicago’s South Side and the touristy clubs on the North Side. The blues, a music genre born from the pathos of African American struggles, has been profoundly affected by the racial and economic segregation of our city.
When I read this article last month, I wondered what it would take to rejuvenate the blues scene in Chicago’s South and West Sides. As I dream of some outside-of-the-box entrepreneurial forms of new church development, I wonder if there is a way to combine a blues club (and restaurant) with a church in such a way that the church and club mutually support each other. A blues church could be a transforming catalyst for a struggling community.
Today’s article speaks more directly to the eminent demise of Chicago’s native music genre and what it will take to turn the tide. In particular, I was struck by these ideas:
So the moment has arrived for Chicago to do something, for the blues stands at a critical juncture. Its infrastructure crumbling, its founders now gone, its young talents battling to be heard, the blues cannot continue on like this for long. What happens in the next few years will determine whether the music recedes into the twilight of nostalgia or — against significant odds — re-emerges in full brilliance in the city that long had nurtured it.
If the blues is to survive, much needs to happen. The commercially oriented downtown and North Side clubs have to break out of their rigid performance schedules, which cycle the same familiar artists onto their stages week in and week out. …
The languishing South and West Side spots, meanwhile, desperately need help from the city in the form of promotional support, tax incentives, shuttle buses — anything and everything within the purview of local government. …
Meanwhile, the foundations that generously fund the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Lyric Opera of Chicago and the Art Institute of Chicago — all internationally revered institutions — ought to extend a hand to Chicago blues, an internationally revered art form. Neighborhood spots such as Lee’s Unleaded Blues, on the South Side, and the Water Hole, on the West Side, enjoy no philanthropic connections and receive no largesse, except the small tolls they charge at the door and the drinks they sell afterward. They need help — from foundations and corporations on all sides of Chicago’s racial divide.
But the owners of these struggling music rooms may have to reinvent themselves as well, perhaps establishing nonprofit status to accept charitable funding. That is, if they can afford the thousands of dollars and spend the long hours involved in making the transition in the first place, a considerable burden in itself.
If the blues is to sing on in the 21st century, high schools and universities have to introduce the music to young listeners, who encounter it virtually nowhere else. Kids disseminate culture faster and wider than anyone — they could rejuvenate the blues as no one else can, if they only had a chance to hear it, study it, play it, talk about it.
Finally, Chicago blues foundations and blues entrepreneurs need to learn how to grab a piece of the philanthropic pie, if the art form is to exist outside a small, fragile and declining scene.
Blues is a native musical form that speaks in profound ways to matters of ultimate concern. It’s genesis is in African American culture, but it also appeals to other ethnic groups—though this has certainly caused a good deal of cultural friction. Blues is spiritual music expressed in the gritty vernacular of lived experience.
Is it possible to gather a faith community capable of generating space and resources for a blues renaissance? Imagine the language of the blues providing the worshipful voice of this faith community. Imagine blues instruction as part of a youth outreach strategy for the wider community. Imagine a blues club as place of genuine community fellowship.
What could a blues church become in a divided city like Chicago? Perhaps it could be an instrument of rebirth and reconciliation.