Lecturing on American jazz/culture in Nairobi, Kenya

Nairobi has a very different look and feel than does Addis Ababa—more urban, developed, humming with commerce. The British influence is everywhere, especially in the widespread use of English. Swahili is the other widely-spoken language.

Saturday my first lecture was at the RoMoMa Gallery, a handsome, non-profit gallery for African artists, with two floors and rooms of paintings and photography. About 60 people crammed the small auditorium for my presentation “Why We Need the Arts More Than Ever.” The audience was a thorough mix of Kenyans and expats and they paid rapt attention, smiling at Louis Armstrong’s Dinah and looking moved by William Warfield’s Ol’ Man River. As a sign of the generosity of the people in Kenya: when I finished and called for Q&A, a tall man paid me a great compliment: “In all my life, I’ve never been moved to tears, from beginning to end, by a man speaking.” There were many other comments—including a request for my script to take back to the school administrators where the questioner worked. And I played a number on the piano, a boogie-woogie version of St. Louis Blues, to warm applause, and then was swarmed by well-wishers and people eager to talk. Instead of the reception lasting thirty minutes, it went for two hours as the audience engaged each other in artistic conversations and I got endless one-on-one questions and comments from the audience. I even gave a short class on jazz chords to twelve-year-old girl who had keenly followed the lecture (and then, in appreciation, presented her parents with a copy of my book I Love You When, which expresses a parent’s unconditional love for a child).

A number of musicians attended, and several came on stage to play, among them a terrific young jazz pianist. One of those who attended was a saxophonist-singer named Patrick Sanna, who did a spot-on version of Louis Armstrong’s What a Wonderful World and was fascinated when I played for him the recording of Armstrong singing the entire song, including its seldom-heard but compelling verse. He asked for a copy. Later that evening, I took a taxi to Palacina restaurant to hear him and his band. It turns out that three of his sons are in the band—keyboard, drums, and bass, along with a trumpeter and, that night, a young lady serving as guest singer. I brought along the Smithsonian’s Louis Armstrong Jazz Appreciation Month poster--featuring Leroy Neiman's terrific portrait of Armstrong--for everyone in the band, and they were all glad to receive it.

On Sunday, I went to the residence of US Ambassador Michael E. Ranneberger to give my lecture “Louis Armstrong: American Icon” to an audience of 75 invited guests, including the Minister of Culture, the Hon. William Ole Ntimama (who had, in 1952, worked as a translator for a Smithsonian expedition and who recalled Armstrong’s 1960 performance in Nairobi), the French Ambassador, the German cultural attaché, other diplomats, university professors and deans, and a number of Kenyan musicians. I opened with the assertion that jazz represents some of the most admirable values to which the US aspires: freedom, democracy, cultural diversity, individuality, innovation, and creative collaboration, and then related Armstrong’s life story, illustrated with images, audio, and video clips.

The staff had moved the residence’s grand piano for me to perform on it, and after the lecture, I played St. Louis Blues, Summertime— both of which Armstrong recorded, and the Ellington-Strayhorn standard Satin Doll.

Again, many comments and questions followed, including some from a young Kenyan jazz band called Groove 360. The comment that totally surprised me was when a young Kenyan musician said to me, “You’ve changed my life forever.” Wow! I take no credit—rather it had to have been Louis Armstrong, and I’m very glad to have been a vehicle for Armstrong to inspire a young Kenyan.

I later learned that a noted professor from a major university in Nairobi said to my colleague Ellen Bienstock, the US Cultural Attaché, that he was surprised and impressed, given how bad he heard the racism is in the US, that a white man would extol the virtues and genius of Louis Armstrong so passionately. When I learned this later, I remarked to Kennedy Wakia, the Embassy’s Alumni Coordinator, “And I had thought my skin color might be a liability.” Ken replied, “No, it’s an asset.”

One professor of music said that he is hoping to introduce an entire course on the history of jazz. Among the dignitaries I spoke with was Wangari Maathai, the first African woman and the first environmentalist to win the Nobel Peace Prize.

Then we went to the studios of Capital Radio, where their weekly two-hour jazz show, Capital Jazz Club, was on the air. The host, Jack Ojiambo. and I had a lively conversation about jazz as an international, worldwide phenomenon.

Monday started with a trip to Citizen Television, where I appeared on the morning talk show Power Breakfast, the Kenyan equivalent of NBC’s Today show in the US. The guest before me was a mentalist from South Africa who demonstrated the most amazing feats—bending a fork, twirling a fork without touching it, guessing correctly the identity of a dear friend whom the program’s co-host was thinking of, etc.—bringing her to tears. I figured this will be a very tough act to follow but the other co-host, Jimmy Gathu, was lively and fun and our seventeen minutes sped by. He asked about American and Kenyan jazz, why I was in Kenya, what my impressions were, how the Smithsonian acquires artifacts, etc.

The final official business was a lecture at the Kenya Conservatoire of Music, where I addressed a group of officials and educators invited by the Minister of Culture, on “Why We Need the Arts More Than Ever.” The Q&A, which I thought would last ten minutes, stretched to an hour as the audience offered thoughtful questions and observations. One difference between the situation regarding arts in education in the US and in Kenya quickly emerged: in Kenya, every student has to take a big exam after 8th grade, in order to enter high school. If a subject—such as music or art—isn’t considered testable, and isn’t on that exam, the parents don’t support schools teaching it.

One man picked up on my comment, which I stated twice, that “While America’s diversity challenges us all, in fact our cultural pluralism is one of our greatest strengths.“ He said that in Kenya, it seems as if diversity is increasingly pulling the country apart. I replied that I while have no solution, I could offer the opinion that, all around the world, the number one problem facing humankind is—even more than environmental, nuclear, global warming, water shortages, etc.—that most people have trouble accepting difference among people. That our maker wants and likes difference—otherwise he would have made us all alike.

Cultural Affairs Officer Ellen Bienstock stepped in and nimbly answered a few questions about Embassy policies and programs. She has assembled a superb staff, including Ken Wakia, who showered me with kindnesses. Everyone was great to work with.

Finally, I sat for an interview with George Orido for the Sunday edition of the East African Standard newspaper. George was the scriptwriter and director for Obama, The Musical, which when it opened in Nairobi last fall, in advance of the US elections, earned worldwide publicity.

Throughout Kenya, President Obama, whose father was Kenyan, is a hero, and so I introduced myself as “from the other Obama-land,” to quick smiles. Kenyans are very interested in the United States, even more than previously, and look to the US as a great example of democracy. Many are interested in learning more about American music. I found the Kenyans a warm, friendly, forthcoming people with whom I connected readily, and now count Kenyans as among my friends and colleagues. I’m hoping to continue to work with them.

Explaining American jazz and culture in Addis Ababa

It’s been a very stimulating three days in Addis Ababa. The capital of Ethiopia has an extremely long and rich history—the origins of humankind may be here, Ethiopians discovered coffee, Ethiopia considers itself the oldest uninterrupted independent country in sub-Saharan Africa, and was the first to establish diplomatic relations with the US, in 1903. Addis, a bustling city of five million, is headquarters to the African Union, and the US Embassy is growing as risks of terrorism or piracy grow in neighboring states of Somalia, Eritrea, and Sudan.

My visit here came from a decision by the US Embassy to join, for the first time, the international observance of Jazz Appreciation Month, now celebrated in 40 countries. They hope this week’s activities will be just the first of annual celebrations of JAM.

Hitting the ground running on Monday, I presented two lectures on Ellington—replete with about 100 images, and a dozen audio and video clips—at the Yared Music School of Addis Ababa University where the one of the instructors, Alemayehu, and four students demonstrated traditional Ethiopian instruments (two mesenkos, a drum, kirar, and washint). If you need more info. After I finished lecturing, I was asked to play the piano and the students crowded around the piano to get close. The afternoon lecture was at the Theology College’s Jazz Department—I told them I didn’t think any U.S. seminary would be so advanced—and they were particularly interested to learn about Ellington’s Concerts of Sacred Music.


The Embassy put on a lovely lunch in my honor with leading cultural figures and jazz musicians, among them Mulatu Astatke, widely known as “the father of Ethiojazz.” A graduate of the Berklee College of Music in Boston, and a dynamic composer-pianist, Mulatu just returned from a successful European concert tour and also played recently at UCLA, and is the subject of a forthcoming documentary film. He befriended Ellington during the latter’s 1973 visit to Ethiopia and later this week I will conduct an interview with Mulatu for the Smithsonian.

Tuesday I addressed 250 theater majors at Addis Ababa University, the country’s leading institution of higher learning, on “Imagine a World without Art: Why We Need the Arts More Than Ever.” In the talk, I present seven reasons why children need the arts as part of their education, and seven reasons why adults need the arts in their lives. The talk was accented with a few audio and video clips and when I played a clip from the movie Show Boat featuring William Warfield’s powerful singing of Ol’ Man River, a lad in the front row, who had been whispering to his girlfriend but was now paying rapt attention, gasped, “Oh MY!” Many in the audience took notes and the applause was sustained enough that I had to stand up twice to acknowledge it. The Ethiopians are facing some of the same issues that we Americans face—the arts are not valued nearly enough and receive way too little funding. One student said that his father and relatives were scornful when he said he wanted to go into theater—they couldn’t understand his passion.

In the afternoon, I did an hour-long interview with Shegere Radio, a young private station; until recently, all radio was controlled by the government. The station now boasts perhaps the largest audience in Addis, and broadcasts a weekly jazz program, hosted by a super-friendly bassist named Henoc (in Ethiopia, people are often known by their first name alone).

Henoc is one of three co-founders of the African Jazz School, a post-secondary music school that uses the facilities of a day school during the after-hours period. It was there I gave my fourth Ellington talk, to a group of aspiring jazz musicians who took great interest in his music. Again, I was asked to play after my talk, and all 30 of us took a group picture. (Two of the three founders of the school are also graduates of the Berklee College of Music, by the way.) They are in desperate need of musical instruments—the only budget they have comes from tuition—and I am going to put them in touch with some American jazz educators who just might be able to help them.

Wednesday morning, I gave a presentation on “Music at the Smithsonian” to Mamitu Yilma, Director, and her staff of the National Museum (famous for housing the 3.2-million-year-old “Lucy” skeleton), which is interested in expanding into music. They were very interested in the music activities at the National Museum of American History and in the Smithsonian Folklife Program, and I offered to help them get recordings of Ethiopian music made, years ago, in the field and issued on Smithsonian Folkways Recordings. I was extremely flattered when I was asked, without making a commitment, to return and spend some time helping the National Museum establish a music program.

I paid a courtesy call on the friendly US Ambassador, Donald Yamamoto, at his residence. He and his lovely wife Maggie—a gifted painter—invited me to play the 1914 Steinway piano that belongs to the residence. They are having it restored, and I offered to link them to resources for its restoration. I introduced the idea of bringing the Smithsonian Jazz Masterworks Sextet to Ethiopia, an idea which was met with interest. Ambassador Yamamoto presented me with a medal as a thank-you for my work here.

The Embassy so values our annual Jazz Appreciation Month posters, including the terrific images of Armstrong and Ellington by Leroy Neiman, that they have framed them for annual use.

The climax of my visit was a concert in celebration of Ellington’s 110th birthday, organized by the US Embassy and held at the Italian Cultural Institute, which was packed with 350 enthusiastic cultural leaders (the U.S. Ambassador, the Ethiopian Minister of Culture and Tourism, Director of the National Museum, the Italian Cultural Attache, etc.) and music aficionados. I gave a presentation on Ellington, and sparked the audience with a little-known1941 recording by an Ellington small group of Menelik (Lion of Judah), a piece named for a former heroic ruler of Ethiopia and dedicated to Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie. I showed pictures from Ellington’s 1973 visit to Addis, including the gorgeous Medal of Honor that Selassie presented Ellington and which is now preserved at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History, then interviewed on stage Mulate Astatke, who presented me, for the Museum, with a copy of a piece he had written for Ellington. I performed a piece from Ellington's youth--W.C. Handy's St. Louis Blues.

Then the Meleket Jazz Band did a spirited performance of four Ellington tunes, including Caravan with a fresh, fetching Ethiopian rhythmic groove, and an original Ethiopian-jazz-fusion piece.

The Ethiopians have been universally polite, warm, friendly, and receptive to me. Hospitality to guests is a deep-seated national value. There is a strong bond between Ethiopians and the United States—in fact, there are more than a million Ethiopians living in the US, more than 10% of them in the Washington, D.C., area. English is the second most-spoken language, and there are a number of people interested in American jazz. The fact that Ethiopia has a homegrown jazz tradition also creates a basis for communication, friendship, and relationship-building. A lot of people who don’t know much about jazz are curious about it.

During the course of my career, this is the tenth US State Department overseas “post” I’ve had the privilege of working with, and it’s been an exceptional experience working with the terrific staff at the Embassy here. Cultural Affairs Officer Glenn Guimond and Cultural Affairs Specialist Yohannes Birhanu have been marvelous to work with, devoting uncounted hours to setting up this week and extending many kindnesses. This post gets only two speakers per year, so I feel tremendously honored to have been brought here, to do my small part for US cultural diplomacy, to foster better appreciation of American music and culture, and to represent the Smithsonian Institution.