Marketing Black Music

Black gospel music in the United States has historically articulated an African American identity, with emphasis on themes such as suffering, resistance, perseverance, and survival (Maultsby, 2010). While scholars have discussed how gospel music has traditionally reflected the existential concerns of black life (Burnim, 1985; Burnim, 1988), less critical attention has been given to how gospel artists are attempting to dismantle racial/ethnic barriers by promoting multiculturalism. I argue that a multicultural theology has infused the lyrical and sonic imaginations of several gospel artists who proclaim that racial inclusion reflects the divine mandate of God. In constructing multiculturalism sonically, I argue that gospel artists utilize a variety of musical techniques, including the conflation of musical styles from diverse genres (e.g. funk, rock, and Caribbean, among others), multilingualism, dramatic alterations in vocal timbre, and hallelujah chants. Hallelujah chants involve repeatedly singing the word "hallelujah", as this word is understood to have the same universal meaning in every language. "Hallelujah" thus functions as a lyrical semiotic code to signify multicultural solidarity. To further legitimize their multicultural theologies, I also argue that gospel artists engage in an eschatological discourse – a discourse that focuses on the kingdom of heaven as an imagined future egalitarian community (Ingalls, 2011). By emphasizing that there will be no racial divides in heaven, gospel artists imagine an ideal system of social relations on earth. While their discourses emphasize multicultural unity, such professions are inseparable from expressions of black particularity. That is to say, their attempts to discursively deconstruct racial difference are often in tension with what is occurring musically and performatively, as much of their stage performances-including the music, lyrics, and moments of intermittent theological rhetoric-are heavily informed by a black aesthetic. Drawing upon critical analyses of the music, lyrics, CD liner notes and images, participant observation at gospel conferences, and observed interviews of gospel artists, I analyze the multicultural albums of two gospel artists: Israel Houghton and Donnie McClurkin. Through their multicultural albums, these artists are attempting to extend the gospel message to a multicultural community and thus expand the commercial platform and appeal of gospel music. 

The American popular music business has long been segregated. This was apparent in a number of structural ways during the 1960s, including things like differences in record store location and radio station demographics. Perhaps the most notable area of separation was in performance venues. This paper profiles the live work of singer Marvin Gaye between 1962 and 1964, interrogating the relationship between the "black" market in a variety of concert environments during this time. As a marquee member of the Motown stable of artists in the early 1960s, Gaye performed many times at a loose grouping of theaters and movie palaces in black neighborhoods, often called the Chitlin' Circuit. Dating back to the TOBA circuit of the 1920s, these venues almost exclusively featured African-American performers and catered to young, black audiences. As he rose in popularity, Gaye then ventured into nightclub bookings at venues like Leo's in Cleveland, the Royal Peacock in Atlanta, and the 20 Grand in Detroit. These clubs served older audiences and demanded a different sort of stage show, employing customs from the jazz world in addition to the Middle-of-the-Road sector of the mainstream. Race, class and venue were not always neatly aligned in these clubs, and their complex interminglings tell an important story about the R&B market during an era in which black performers reached wider audiences with increasing regularity. Drawn from period newspapers, corporate press releases and a variety of interviews and biographical writings, my research uses extensive primary source materials to portray aspects of race and class in these shows and the venues where they happened. Secondary writings that inform the paper include work by scholars such as Keir Keitley, Mark Burford, Robert Fink and Charles Hughes. Central to the presentation itself are two main elements: a mapping initiative that helps to provide a deeper sense of the geography involved in my discussion, and a series of unreleased archival sound recordings from Gaye's performances at these venues that give invaluable sonic evidence to support claims about similarities and differences between audience makeup, performance style, and repertoire.

Scat-solos, swung rhythms, and saxophones hardly may be expected features of a performance Handel's Messiah, but Too Hot to Handel: The Jazz-Gospel Messiah includes all of these and more. A project commissioned by conductor Marin Alsop in 1993, Too Hot to Handel rearranges and recuts Handel's ubiquitous Christmas classic, capturing "the essential core of Handel's famous piece and reinterpreting it with chords of R&B, jazz, and gospel." A stylized image of Handel, adorned with black sunglasses and a gold chain complete with blingy "H," proclaims that the piece is "breaking the classical sound barrier."  Unlike other attempts to "hip up" Handel for modern audiences in the late 1980s and early 1990s, however, Too Hot to Handel has displayed astonishing staying power. For the last fifteen years, it has been performed at Chicago's Auditorium Theater as part of their Martin Luther King Jr. Day programming, with promotional materials describing it as embodying King's vision of "beloved community." It has inspired outreach programs for high-schoolers to "rearrange their own masterpieces," poetry contests, community-building initiatives, and live-streams in Illinois prisons, with self-congratulatory press articles citing its power to overcome differences. In this paper, I place Too Hot to Handel at the intersection of marketing, taste, and race. I analyze its use of African-American musical idioms and racialized promotional language as a way of marketing the piece as both an entry point to "real" classical music by virtue of its Handelian provenance and as what one critic calls "an inspiring object lesson on the genius of black music in America," despite being arranged by an entirely white musical team. I unpack the relationship between these problematic origins and the reality of the performances, which often engage with issues of music education and outreach in the Black community, and- in Chicago particularly- have garnered a loyal and diverse following. Finally, I discuss the performances themselves, which often feature prominent Black soloists from the worlds of classical music, gospel, and jazz, as acts of potential reappropriation, highlighting the unstable and constantly changing relationship between classical music, performance, and identity.