Introduction

“Jazz is a very big word.” In one version of this story I could simply take Leonard Bernstein at his word and skip writing this book altogether. His statement, however offhand, has the ring of truth, and volumes of writing attest to the intellectual weight of the sound and idea of jazz. And “Bernstein” is a big word, too. Perhaps both cannot fit into the same space. Or it could be that looking at a determinedly polystylistic composer through the lens of one style, however important, might not do either the composer or the style justice. The version of the story laid out in this book, though, argues for a powerful connection between Bernstein and jazz worth exploring even if it requires “big” words—broad and complex cultural concepts—to occupy the same space. Bernstein’s way of being a musician resonates with the ways countless musicians have had of making jazz: both depend on various forms of connectivity, on the blurring of edges between ideas, sounds, and people. On the other hand, jazz musicians and Bernstein equally assert their individualism. If both jazz and Bernstein are big, the reasons for their largeness interact in interesting ways—ways crucial to Bernstein’s compositional aesthetic and significant to how we talk about jazz and its place in American musical culture....