Hanah Jon Taylor: The Man, The Myth, The Musician
Feel close enough with me yet to experience an intimate moment within my development as a marketing maiven? Expose yourself to my first (very memorable and a little odd) interview.
“What? You want me to do an interview??” I reel after Esty tells me. I’ve never interviewed anyone (seriously) before. What if I suck? What if I can’t get ahold of him? What if I do get ahold of him, forget my questions, and engage in the most awkward conversation ever in the existence of mankind?? I seriously consider just “forgetting” to do it and see how that goes. I decide I like this job much too much for those shenanigans.
Esty leaves for vacation, and I don’t have contact information for this guy. I whirl my way around Esty’s roll-a-contact thing, but, as it so often happens, I am defeated. Our astute administrative assistant informs me that Hanah Jon Taylor runs the Madison Center for Creative and Cultural Arts (MCCCA), which I promptly Google. (I’m so thankful Al Gore invented the Internet!!) As I was wandering around on the MCCCA website, I am astounded by the abundance of alliteration. These people are so seriously my soulmates, I conclude.
Fast forward to the (almost entirely) unscripted interview (Read the previous entry if you’d like to know how my lucky self stumbled across this interview in the first place).
“This should only take a couple of minutes,” I assure him.
“You have obviously never met me before,” he tells me. He’s not kidding.
After the lovely and amazing Susan Fox, co-creator of the MCCCA, takes the pressure off a smidgen by giving me a pen and paper, Hanah Jon Taylor immediately starts speaking. Whoa, I haven’t even asked a question yet!! “This could either be entirely effortless or a downright disaster,” I think, followed quickly by, “Crap, I’m going to run out of paper” and “Great grandmother’s spatula, I need a tape recorder!” Breathe, breathe.
HJT: There’s a difference between music you hear on the radio and the music of the world. I’ve met musicians you’ve never heard of before, and these cats are better than those on the radio. The commercial can only allow for one Miles Davis in a generation. It’s a problem. He is only a representative of what’s happening in music. And artists are getting on these big record labels because of what they’re willing to give up… Jumbo shrimp is as much of an oxymoron as musical competition.
Jumbo shrimp? I really like this guy. I’m also deeply impressed with the way he can so nonchalantly throw the word “cat” into everyday conversation.
HJT: To me music is not entertainment; it is a mode of communication. It expresses something that words can’t express, not only social but spiritual ideas. Today the only people who recognize creative music coming out of America are those who don’t live here…but that’s okay because pressure has always made diamonds.
Okay, Hanah, let’s move onto the art of improvisation. Go ahead continue to answer my questions before I ask them. I like this game.
HJT: I don’t think compositions that are older than I am serve the time. Our generation needs to create for our time. I don’t want to duplicate but serve the moment with imaginings and ideas of the moment. You’ll hear what you’ve never heard before. Our concerts are like a fingerprint or a scene you pass on a car or train, a moment you can never forget because it’s so beautiful or painful. We’ve all had those moments. It’s like speech. I never want to have the same conversation twice.
I imagine that this is true. Hanah seems to have too much to say to ever say the same thing twice. Pause in conversation. Oh, ask a question, me.
Me: Who are your musical idols?
HJT: John Coltrane, Miles Davis and Red Buttons. Red Buttons was on 1950s television, and he sang funny songs. He communicated to me. Same as Coltrane, he spoke to me in a way I’ve never heard a saxophonist speak. I think musicians should address sentimentality and humanity. I look for something I can identify. You hear music all over the place, but music you can identify with…you listen to it.
People keep shuffling in and out of the center, and Hanah takes the time to greet and shake hands with all of them, telling them to hang out until he finishes with me. The arts community needs enthusiasm and dedication like this, I am sure of it. “What else do you want to know, girl?” he inquires.
Me: How long have you been running the center, and who do you aim to serve?
HJT: Two years. It’s a work in progress. When we first looked through that window, we saw concrete, floor and wall. That’s it. People are astonished to look at what we’ve done here. We’re proud that we’re still open, seven days a week. Who isn’t surprised to see and feel what there is to see and feel here? Art for art’s sake. Write that down. It’s important. Art for art’s sake.
Got it, Hanah.
HJT: In order for us to continue, we have to become a little more business. We are a grassroots, non-profit organization. We don’t expect to see a profit, ever. Our profit comes from what we cultivate in the community. We serve the community as the people’s art center. We make art a first-hand experience. We believe in outreach. We reach out to those who do not have arts programs. We develop individuals. Over 300 kids in the 2 years we’ve been here; that’s a sizeable chunk of kids who did not have an arts curriculum.
HJT: Art balances the human psyche. Those without access to art come out unbalanced. I know in my heart of hearts that a child will emerge from the community that had an experience here that will grow up and share with others. We don’t know what our future holds, but we’re here, every morning…it needs to be done. We are the people’s arts center. Our actions are unduplicated, and our efforts are sincere.
And with that, in one climatic swoop, he threw his pencil on his desk and leaned back, triumphant. If I was a smoker, this would be an appropriate time to light up, I felt.
