fundação getúlio vargas escola de administração de empresas de

FUNDAÇÃO GETÚLIO VARGAS
ESCOLA DE ADMINISTRAÇÃO DE EMPRESAS DE SÃO PAULO
CHARLES KIRSCHBAUM
CAMPOS ORGANIZACIONAIS EM TRANSFORMAÇÃO
o caso do Jazz americano e da Música Popular Brasileira
SÃO PAULO
2006
CHARLES KIRSCHBAUM
CAMPOS ORGANIZACIONAIS EM TRANSFORMAÇÃO
o caso do Jazz americano e da Música Popular Brasileira
Tese apresentada à Escola de Administração de
Empresas de São Paulo da Fundação Getúlio
Vargas, como requisito para a obtenção do título
de Doutor em Administração de Empresas
Campo de Conhecimento: Estratégia Empresarial
Orientador: Prof. Dr. Flávio Carvalho
Vasconcelos
SÃO PAULO
2006
ii
Kirschbaum, Charles
Campos Organizacionais em Transformação: o caso do Jazz americano e da Música
Popular Brasileira / Charles Kirschbaum. – 2006.
213 f.
Orientador: Flávio Carvalho de Vasconcelos
Tese (doutorado) – Escola de Administração de Empresas de São Paulo.
1. Estrutura social. 2. Jazz. 3. Música popular - Brasil. 4. Música e sociedade. 5.
Artes e sociedade. 6. Música – Indústria. Vasconcelos, Flávio Carvalho de. II. Tese
(doutorado) - Escola de Administração de Empresas de São Paulo. III. Título.
CDU 316.3
iii
CHARLES KIRSCHBAUM
CAMPOS ORGANIZACIONAIS EM TRANSFORMAÇÃO
o caso do Jazz americano e da Música Popular Brasileira
Tese apresentada à Escola de Administração de
Empresas de São Paulo da Fundação Getúlio
Vargas, como requisito para a obtenção do título
de Doutor em Administração de Empresas
Campo de Conhecimento:
Estratégia Empresarial
Data de Aprovação:
__/__/__
Banca Examinadora:
_______________________________________
Prof. Dr. Flávio Carvalho Vasconcelos
(Orientador)
FGV-EAESP
_______________________________________
Prof. Dr. Ana Cristina Braga Martes
FGV-EAESP
_______________________________________
Prof. Dr. Clóvis Machado-da-Silva
FGV-EAESP
Prof. Dr. João Marcelo Crubellate
UEM – Ciências Sociais Aplicadas
Prof. Dr. Sérgio Giovanetti Lazzarini
Faculdade Ibmec - São Paulo
SÃO PAULO
2006
iv
Para o meu zeide Natálio z”l,
o maior contador e criador de histórias que eu conheci
v
Agradecimentos
In Brazil, where basic education is still restricted, I must thank those who supported
me with material means: CAPES (both the graduate and the “sandwich” support), Princeton
University, for the fellowship, CNPq, for the PIBIC sponsorship to Cristina, my assistant,
EAESP-FGV, for sponsoring several trips to national and international conferences. I thank
my parents for the “free” B&B.
I would like to thank all friends, colleagues, teachers and relatives who helped me
with this thesis. I thank Profs. Carlos Osmar Bertero and Francisco Aranha for their patience
in reading this thesis’ project, and for their invaluable feedback.
Prof. Maria Ester de Freitas was the first teacher I had in my undergrad classes who
gave the due attention to conflict in organizations. I thank her for this insight and her support
for my return to the Academy. Together with Ester, Prof. Fernando Motta has been always a
role-model of scholar, and the first who suggested me to read Bourdieu.
Profs. Mario Aquino Alves and Servio Tulio Prado Junior gave me the opportunity to
help them in the disciples Organizational Theory and Strategy. The discussions that took
place at the “Clube Bohemia” have certainly impacted the following pages.
Prof. Patricia da Cunha Tavares and Prof. Eduardo Loebel were the first to show me
the Social Network Analysis technique. They were already using UCINET (a software for
SNA) and they made it less threatening. Patricia has been, since then, a great friend and
someone I could discuss extensively about music. It was at Prof. Eduardo Marques’s classes,
at the Political Science department at Universidade de São Paulo, where I had the opportunity
to understand the potentiality of SNA. Prof. Marques was also one of the first supporters of
the idea of studying social networks among artists. I thank Prof. Ana Cristina Braga Martes
for calling my attention to the Economic Sociology’s potential contributions.
I would like to thank as well the “invisible college” that diligently read previous
versions and very tentative pieces. Their feedback hasn’t been completely absorbed yet. These
were reviewers at the Academy of Management (2005 and 2006), Enanpad (2005), Eneo
(2004), and Revista de Admininstração de Empresas. At conferences I had the opportunity to
discuss my work with several scholars. I owe to Stewart Clegg, Wouter de Nooy, Sérgio
Lazzarini, Tracy Thompson, and Nachoem Wijnberg very extensive feedback to my work.
The experience at Princeton was a watershed in this trajectory. At CACPS (Center for
Arts and Cultural Policy Studies) I found the space and support to exchange ideas. Paul
DiMaggio, Stanley Katz , Larry McGill, Sandy Paroly helped me to make it possible. Prof.
vi
DiMaggio has informally played a role of co-supervisor, providing timely feedback for
several papers, opening perspectives at the Sociology world, and helping me to survive at
Princeton. Both Prof. Katz and McGill spent valuable time in reading my texts and providing
feedback. It was through McGill that I met Mark Schulman, from the New School Jazz
program. Mr. Schulman gave me important tips on the Jazz Academy world at New York.
Simin Gul helped me with all sorts of problems with computer bugs. Of course, I can not
forget the afternoon spent at the Rutgers University, where I could discuss with Ann Mische
my work.
At Princeton, I established a great dialogue with several colleagues and professors:
among them, Mafalda Cardim, Martin Ruef, Joeri Mol, Kelly Lee Patterson, Charles-Henri
Reuter, Gabriel Rossman, and Hana Shepherd were great interlocutors. Mafalda, thank you
for those coffee breaks and the discussions around Bourdieu. Jan Marontate, Felipe
Schwartzman, and David Stevens gave me important feedback to my presentation at the
CACPS luncheon.
During my stay at Princeton, I had the opportunity to provide a “bridge” between Prof.
DiMaggio and Prof. Clóvis Machado-da-Silva. As in any other social network situation, the
tertius eventually benefits from the content that is transmitted. In my case, I had the
opportunity to be acquainted with an ongoing debate between neo-institutionalism and the
contemporary sociological theory. Since then, Prof. Machado-da-Silva has been a resourceful
interlocutor.
I would like to thank those people who helped me to do the “hard stuff”. First of all,
my brother Roberto, whose programming skills made it possible to build the social network
used in this research. Roberto’s true calling is the psychoanalyst therapy, and I am sure that
without this talent the work would never reach its end. Cristina Sakamoto, undergraduate
student at EAESP-FGV was invaluable in collecting the social network data. She was also a
great advisee and instant chatter during her PIBIC research. Bruno Lessa helped me to collect
data on Jazz criticism.
Data on Jazz came from several sources. At the Jazz Institute at the Rutgers University
I received invaluable help from Dan Morgenstern. Tom Lord provided exhausting
explanations on his discography. Several musicians (and their assistants) sent their info by email: I would like to thank Jessica Jary (for Michael Jary info), Ditmer Weertman from the
Nederlands Jazz Archief (for Willy Langestraat, Jan Burgers, Ted Easton info), Trond
Valberg from the The National Library of Norway (for Staffan Kjellmor info), Akira Hori (for
Tsunetami Fukuda info), Wolfram Knauer from the Jazzinstitut Darmstadt (for Jost Münster
vii
info), Don Brow from the Australian Jazz Institute (for the Les Welch info), Rhoda Scott,
André J. Racine, Duane Stufin (for Bill Clarke info), and Jeter Thompson. Jason Koransky
from the Down Beat magazine gave me important tips on how to recover old Jazz criticism. I
thank Scott Yanow for his kind appreciation of my work and explanation on how he
developed his electronic database. I also would like to thank all staff at both Firestone Library
and Mendel Music Library at the Princeton University for their patience and support. I owe to
Daniel Boomhower the access to Down Beat’s microfilms.
At EAESP-FGV several colleagues became both friends and interlocutors. Among
them, my special thanks to Ricardo Gomes do Amaral, Marcelo Binder, Luiz Brito, Natércia
Carona, Luiz Felipe Carvalho, Rebeca Chu, Fernando Ferreira, Augusto Galery, Rodrigo
Gouvêa, Tatiana Iwai (Tets), Andre Mascarenhas, Eros Nogueira, Elvio Porto, Maurício
Reinert, Andrea Leite Rodrigues, André Samartini, and Pedro Zanni. Over a “guiness” at
Finnegan’s, Ricardo has pointed several biases in my writing. A new crop of friends have
helped me in the last months: Renata Oliveira, Caetano Andrade, Alaíde Sipahi Dantas and
Igor Tasic. At FFLCH-USP, across the river, several friends and colleagues have helped me.
Among them, my special thanks to Thais Pavez.
I risk now to commit a great injustice for not citing all friends involved in this
trajectory. But among my friends, Maria Abreu, Andrea Valenzuela, Luiz Ojima Sakuda,
Vinicius Mianna, Ulisses Sakurai and Luciana Itikawa, and Daniel and Denilde Holzhacker
provided a timely support when my hands trembled. Andrea, I miss a lot our discussions on
Jazz and Adorno. I would like to thank my parents for all support received, and Karin
Slemenson for her help.
Flavio Vasconcelos has been a supervisor, friend, co-author and confident. He
supported my wildest dreams (like writing a thesis about the Jazz field in a management
school) and helped me to anchor them accordingly.
Finally, I thank all musicians for producing great music. This thesis would be
impossible without you. Thank you all!
viii
I'm very glad to have met you. I like your playing very much.
~ Charlie Parker to Jean-Paul Sartre
ix
Resumo
A teoria Neo-Institucional define Campos Organizacionais como espaços onde
atores compartilham regras, esquemas interpretativos e consentem com as instituições
estabelecidas. A partir dessa perspectiva, espera-se que as formas sociais sejam adotadas e
difundidas pelos membros do campo. Essa visão de campo tem sido expandida para dar conta
dos conflitos e inovação.
A partir da investigação do campo de Jazz e da MPB, aborda-se a tranformação em
campos de produção musical. Em primeiro lugar, investiga-se as relações teóricas entre o
conceito de campo e redes sociais, através da aproximação das teorias desenvolvidas
principalmente por Bourdieu e White. Evitando-se a síntese desses dois corpos teóricos,
sugere-se o potencial de complementaridade entre as duas abordagens. Assim, sugere-se que
mudanças sociais podem ser acompanhadas pelo descasamento entre a estrutura de redes
sociais e a concentração de oportunidades. A partir do mapeamento das redes sociais do
campo de Jazz, de 1930 a 1969, obtem-se uma topografia dos líderes de banda e seus
respectivos estilos. Verifica-se que o lugar de emersão de novos estilos pode ser explicado
pela evolução da estrutura do campo.
As tranformações internas a um campo impactam as carreiras dos músicos. Constroise uma carreira “típica” de um músico de jazz, que sugere uma trilha a ser percorrida para que
se alcance o sucesso. Em contrapartida, a mudança na estrutura e lógica do campo de Jazz
levou ao favorecimento de alguns músicos que não seguiram a carreira típica. Essa
contraposição é importante para aproximar a análise à ação dos individuos co-responsáveis
pela mudança na lógica do campo.
A institucionalização de um campo possibilita a definição daqueles estilos que são
legítimos, em contraposição com aqueles que são segregados. Dessa forma, a permeabilidade
de um campo conjuga a a geração autônoma de normas com elementos externos. Novamente,
essa permeabilidade é reflexo da transformação da estrutura e lógica do campo. A partir da
penetração da Bossa Nova no campo de Jazz americano, analisou-se a participação dos
críticos na avaliação, legitimação e tradução da Bossa Nova. Essa influência cruzada foi
acompanhada pela redifinição das fronteiras entre os campos.
A comunicação entre campos distintos surge como um fator crucial na explicação da
emersão de novos campos. A comunicação entre os grupos de Música Popular Brasileira e
Música Pop (principalmente Jovem Guarda) foi realizada pelos músicos do movimento
Tropicalista. A criação de uma nova posição possibilitou a articulação entre dois espaços
sociais que encontravam-se polarizados.
x
Percebe-se o papel do conflito nessas dinâmicas: o conflito dentro do campo do jazz
permitiu a sua abertura e emersão de uma pluralidade de estilos que articulavam de formas
distintas a tradição do jazz e as influências externas. A polarização dentro do campo da MPB
criou a possibilidade de criação de novas posições internas e articulações externas. As
mudanças nessas lógicas foram concomitantes com o desenho de novos contornos do campo e
novas trajetórias das carreiras. Em contrapartida, esses conflitos revelaram elementos
compartilhados que se tornaram institucionalizados e aceitos por grupos opostos.
Palavras-chave
Campo Organizacional, Redes Sociais, Indústria Fonográfica, Bourdieu, Sociologia da Arte
xi
Abstract
The Neo-Institutional theory defines Organizational Fields as social spaces where
actors share rules, interpretative schemata and consent with established institutions. From this
perspective, one expects that field’s actors adopt and diffuse social forms. This conception of
field has been expanded in order to include the phenomena of conflict and innovation.
By exploring the Jazz and the MPB fields, this thesis approaches the transformations
in fields of music production. First, it investigates the theoretical relationships between the
concept of field and social networks, by exploring the convergence of Bourdieu’s and
Harrison White’s theories. Although I don’t propose a synthesis between these two
approaches, I advocate that they are complementary. Hence, I suggest that social changes
might occur in tandem with the uncoupling between the social network structure and the
concentration of opportunities. By reconstructing the social networks among Jazz musicians,
from 1930 to 1969, I obtain a topography of band leaders and their respective styles. The
findings suggest one might explain the locus of new style emergence by the field’s structure
evolution.
The internal changes in a field impacted several musicians’ careers. I built a “typical”
career-path, which suggests a track to be covered in order to attain success. In contrast, the
change in the field’s structure and meta-logics favored several musicians who didn’t follow
the typical path. This contrast attempts to shed light on the individual action, which helped in
turn to change the field’s logic.
A field’s institutionalization allows the identification of those legitimate styles, in
contrast with those that are segregated. Thus, a field’s permeability articulates its autonomous
generation of norms with external elements. Again, this permeability reflects a field’s
structure and logics change. By exploring the penetration of Bossa Nova in the Jazz field, I
analyzed how Jazz critics participated in the legitimating and in the translating processes of
Bossa Nova. This cross-influence occurred in tandem with a redefinition of both fields’
boundaries.
The communication between two different fields turns to be a crucial explanative
factor in the emergence of new fields. The communication between the MPB and the pop
music groups (mostly Jovem Guarda) was accomplished by Tropicalists. The creation of a
new position made possible the articulation of two social spaces that were polarized.
It seems evident the role of conflict underlying these dynamics: the conflict within the
jazz field allowed the opening and emergence of a plurality of styles that articulated in several
ways the Jazz tradition with external influences. The polarization within the MPB field
xii
created the possibility of emergence of new positions and external articulation. The change
within these logics took place in tandem with the drawing of new boundaries and new career
trajectories around and within these fields. In contrast, these conflicts revealed shared
elements that became eventually institutionalized and shared by opposing groups.
Key-words
Organizational Field, Social Networks, Recording Industry, Bourdieu, Sociology of Art
xiii
SUMÁRIO
1. Introduction ............................................................................................................................4
1.1 Theoretical Issues .............................................................................................................4
1.2 Chapters in this Thesis....................................................................................................11
2. Fields and Networks: Theoretical Distinctions, Convergence and Perspectives..................14
2.1 Introduction: beyond Functionalism...............................................................................14
2.2 The concept of Field - origins and traditions..................................................................16
2.3 Bourdieu’s concept of Field ...........................................................................................16
2.3.1 Structure and Types of Capital ................................................................................16
2.3.2 Positions and Dispositions.......................................................................................17
2.3.3 Habitus and Practices ..............................................................................................18
2.3.4 Power, Struggle and Domination.............................................................................19
2.3.5 Stability and Change................................................................................................20
2.3.6. A fractal model of fields .........................................................................................21
2.3.7. Interaction and Social Networks in Bourdieu’s theory ..........................................22
2.4 Interactionist Approach to Fields ...................................................................................23
2.4.1 The Harrison White School of Social Network Analysis........................................25
2.4.2. Neo-Institutionalism and Social Networks.............................................................25
2.4.3. Contemporary Social Network Analysis ................................................................26
2.3. The “linguistic turn” in the Social Network Analysis ...................................................27
2.4. Fields and Networks – is a convergence possible?........................................................30
2.4.1 The Rise of the Medici in Florence .........................................................................33
2.5. Conclusion and Perspectives for Future Research ........................................................35
3. Jazz Field Evolution, 1930-1969: from Centralized to Decentralized Field ........................36
3.1. Introduction ...................................................................................................................36
3.2. An Institutional Account of Jazz Evolution ..................................................................38
3.2.1. Emergence of a Professional Body of Musicians...................................................39
3.2.2. Formalization and Rationalization of Jazz .................................................................41
3.2.3. Emergence of a professional body of critics ..........................................................43
3.2.4. Consolidation of academic institutions in Jazz.......................................................45
3.3. A History of Jazz ...........................................................................................................46
3.3.1. The Styles of Jazz ...................................................................................................51
3.4. Theoretical Development: Field, Institutional Change, and Circulation of Elites ........60
3.4.1. Centralized Fields ...................................................................................................61
3.4.2. Decentralized Fields ...............................................................................................62
3.4.3. Control Variables....................................................................................................64
3.5. Data Sources ..................................................................................................................66
3.5.1. Jazz Recording Sessions Data ................................................................................66
3.5.2. Style Assignment Methodology .............................................................................67
3.5.3. Musicians’ Demographic Data ...............................................................................69
3.6. Methodology..................................................................................................................69
3.6.1. MRQAP...................................................................................................................69
3.6.2. Blockmodeling........................................................................................................71
3.7. Results ...........................................................................................................................72
3.7.1. MRQAP Analyses ..................................................................................................72
1
3.7.2. Analyses of Blocks .................................................................................................78
3.8. Discussion....................................................................................................................107
3.9. Conclusions .................................................................................................................114
4. Careers in the Right Beat: U.S. Jazz Musicians’ typical and non-typical trajectories ......116
4.1. Introduction .................................................................................................................116
4.2. Artists’ Careers and art Fields .....................................................................................117
4.3. Typical Career Stages and Turning Points ..................................................................119
4.3.1. Introduction to the Field .......................................................................................119
4.3.2. Introduction to a National band ............................................................................120
4.3.3. Climbing the Sidemen Hierarchy .........................................................................121
4.3.4. The Launching of a new bandleader.....................................................................124
4.3.5. Institutionalization of Innovation and Innovator ..................................................129
4.3.6. Style Deinstitutionalization and Leader Decline ..................................................130
4.3.7. Recurrent Innovator..............................................................................................131
4.4. Non-typical Career Paths.............................................................................................134
4.4.1. Coleman Hawkins.................................................................................................135
4.4.2. Ornette Coleman...................................................................................................136
4.5. Discussion: Resources and Fields................................................................................137
4.6. Conclusion and Future Research Opportunities ..........................................................139
5. How do Outsider Styles Become Legitimated? A dialogue between Bossa Nova musicians
and Jazz critics........................................................................................................................140
5.1. Introduction .................................................................................................................140
5.2. Theory on new Styles ..................................................................................................142
5.2.1. Outsider as a source of innovation .......................................................................142
5.2.2. Boundary work and sources of conflict................................................................143
5.2.3. Making sense of change .......................................................................................144
5.2.4. Conflict and Changes in Power ............................................................................146
5.2.5. From Periphery to Core: latency and visibility ....................................................147
5.3. Jazz and Bossa Nova ...................................................................................................148
5.3.1. Enacting the Jazz Tradition ..................................................................................148
5.3.2. Bossa Nova in the Jazz Field................................................................................149
5.4. Methodology................................................................................................................149
5.4.1. A theory of Jazz and Bossa Nova.........................................................................149
5.4.2. Classification of Records......................................................................................150
5.4.3. Ratings ..................................................................................................................151
5.4.4. Social Networks....................................................................................................152
5.4.5. Preparation of the Network...................................................................................153
5.4.6. Preliminary Analysis ............................................................................................153
5.4.7. History and Narratives..........................................................................................154
5.5. Results .........................................................................................................................155
5.5.1. Bossa Nova Narratives .........................................................................................155
5.5.2. The Evolution of the BN Theory..........................................................................157
5.5.3. Evolution of Record Classification.......................................................................158
5.5.4. Evolution of Ratings by Record Category............................................................158
5.5.5. Penetration of BN in the Jazz community ............................................................159
5.6. Discussion: a tentative model for a process of institutionalization .............................159
5.7. Implications for the study of institutionalization.........................................................161
5.8. From the System towards the Field thinking...............................................................161
6. Tropicália: Strategic Maneuvers in Networks of Musicians ..............................................163
6.1. Introduction .................................................................................................................163
2
6.2. Strategic behavior in social spaces: rational choice and economic sociology approaches
............................................................................................................................................164
6.2.1. A Rational-Choice Preliminary Model: The Hotelling Game..............................165
6.2.2 Strategic Action in Social Networks: from Closure to Structural Holes...............166
Source: Author’s adaptation of Granovetter (1977) and Burt (1992) ................................168
6.3. - Social Networks and Social Identities.......................................................................168
6.4. - Musicians in Social Networks: Emergence of Tropicália.........................................170
6.4.1 Bossa Nova (BN): the paradigm of the ascending middle-class ...........................171
6.4.2 The pop Jovem Guarda (JG) and its counterpoint to BN ......................................171
6.4.3 Emergence of MPB, and its clash with JG ............................................................172
6.4.4. “Baianos” penetrate the BN/MPB community .....................................................172
6.4.5 Tropicália is established and becomes influential .................................................173
6.5. Understanding Styles and Identities from a Network/Embedded Perspective ............174
6.5.1 Identities among Musicians ...................................................................................174
6.5.2. Repertoire creates Networks.................................................................................175
6.6. Methodology................................................................................................................175
6.6.1. Database................................................................................................................176
6.6.2. Sociograms ...........................................................................................................177
6.6.3. Network Analysis .................................................................................................178
6.7. Results .........................................................................................................................179
6.7.1. Emergence of BN and JG: 1958 to 1961..............................................................180
6.7.2. Consolidation of BN and JG: 1962 to 1965 .........................................................182
6.7.3. Emergence of MPB: 1966 to 1967 .......................................................................183
6.7.4. Emergence of Tropicália: 1968 to 1969 ...............................................................184
6.8. Discussion and Conclusion..........................................................................................186
6.8.1. Future Research Opportunities .............................................................................187
7. Concluding Remarks ..........................................................................................................188
Refêrencias: ............................................................................................................................191
Glossário.................................................................................................................................210
3
1. Introduction
1.1 Theoretical Issues
All chapters are directly or indirectly affected by my research in the sociological
version of Neo-Institutionalism. As I learned its different theoretical orientations and
empirical findings, I chose a theme that I believed had strong institutional effects: the
emergence of new artistic styles and the evolution of art fields. Soon enough in my research,
I learned that the sociology of art has its specificities. These specificities do not exclude the
possibility of an institutional analysis of art fields. On the contrary: as I show throughout the
coming chapters, much of the institutional research cited had art fields as their empirical
objects. The risk, then, is to reduce a phenomenon observed in an art field to such a degree of
generality that we will not be able to distinguish the creation of an art style from a scientific
theory, a managerial practice or a technology. As a result, in several cases I was led to leave
aside the neo-institutional approaches in favor of other approaches, mostly from the
contemporary economic sociology. If I was not able in many cases to reach an appropriate
theoretical synthesis (such endeavor would be too ambitious for this scope), I tried at least to
preserve the original neo-institutional intuition. Having said that, let us delve in the neoinstitutional family of theories and my research question.
The emergence of the neo-institutional theories in late seventies and early eighties
marked a reaction against a perspective where organizations were regarded as autonomous
decision-makers. For instance, DiMaggio and Powell’s classic (1983) made an effort to
explain why organizations were so similar. If they were not as diverse as managers claimed,
there should be an explanation. Their methodological strategy was to shift the attention from
individual organizations to organizational fields, as major sources of explanation. They define
an organizational field as:
[T]hose organizations that, in aggregate, constitute a recognized
area of institutional life: key suppliers, resource and product
consumers, regulatory agencies, and other organizations that
produce similar services or products. The virtue of this unit of
analysis is that it directs our attentions to (…) the totality of
relevant actors. (…) [T]he field idea comprehends the importance
of
both
connectedness
and
structural
equivalence.
(DIMAGGIO;POWELL, 1983, p. 65; citations omitted, italics in
the original).
4
Against a methodological individualism, researchers looked at “institutions” as
“beliefs and modes of behavior instituted by the collectivity” (DURKHEIM, 2003). The
organizations who presented conformity to these institutions were able to gain a certain
degree of legitimacy superior in comparison to those organizations who didn’t conform. This
intuition may be traced back to Durkheim:
[In lower societies] the slighter development of individuality, the
small extension of the group, the homogeneity of external
circumstances, all contribute to reducing the differences to a
minimum. The group has an intellectual and moral conformity of
which we find but rare examples in the more advanced societies.
Everything is common to all. Movements are stereotyped;
everybody performs the same ones in the same circumstances, and
this conformity of conduct only translates the conformity of
thought. (DURKHEIM, 1915, pg. 18).
The similarity to DiMaggio and Powell’s proposition is remarkable (DIMAGGIO;
POWELL, 1991, p.1). However, the authors don’t loose sight of the legitimacy requirement
under the diffusion of forms. They propose that organizations will undertake common forms
(isomorphism) depending on the kind of legitimacy source supporting this form. They identify
three types of isomorphism: coercive, normative and mimetic. The coercive isomorphism is
linked to the capacity of a formal institution to impose or require a practice. The normative
isomorphism is generally based on the strength of a professional group to establish common
practices, crystallized in certification. Finally, the mimetic isomorphism occurs as
organizations copy each other in order to be perceived as a legitimate player. This effect was
believed to be stronger when the degree of uncertainty increased, and instrumental calculation
was hindered (DIMAGGIO; POWELL, 1983, proposition B-4).
The important aspect at this point is to note that these scholars engaged in the study of
institutions as epistemologically independent from individual action (DIMAGGIO, 1998).
This contrasts sharply with a Weberian conception of institutions as the outcome of individual
action (COLLINS, 1980). I understand this preference much closer to a methodological shortcut rather than a normative or ontological positioning. The side-effect of such methodological
approach was the widespread criticism to neo-institutionalism and its limits. Because little
emphasis was given to individual action (especially by the more positivistic side of this
school), there was a perception that this school of thought was conservative and defended
social conformity.
Nonetheless, this strategy has allowed innumerous scholars to investigate the diffusion
and transformation of social practices and forms in tandem with the measurement of
5
legitimacy sources (see for instance STRANG; MEYER, 1993; STRANG; TUMA, 1993;
CZARNIAWSKA;JOERGES, 1996; STRANG;SOULE, 1998). Conversely, the mechanisms
of desintitutionalization were investigated (OLIVER, 1992). They also delved into the
investigation of degrees of conformity and possible responses to institutional environments
(MEYER;ROWAN, 1991; OLIVER, 1991) and the correspondent strategic outcomes
(BAUM;OLIVER, 1992, 1996).
Although this body of research provided a wealth of insights on institutional
mechanisms, scholars ended up with difficult obstacles: if actors do conform to institutions,
how is change possible? Conversely, if actors are able to think and strategize as if they were
outside the institutional web as Oliver (1991) seemed to propose, what would lead us to
believe that actors conform to institutions at all? For if all actors are able to manipulate their
institutional environments, there is no causal mechanism that explains when, how and why
they eventually conform to institutions. This paradox was well noticed by Granovetter in his
“over and under-socialized” paradox (GRANOVETTER, 1985).
Nonetheless, organizational students kept insisting on the dichotomy between
conformity and strategic action. Pouder and John (1996), for instance, proposed a
sophisticated model where collectivities faced decline when institutionalized and obdurate
schemata were unable to cope with external shocks. Although I could relate this mechanism
with the rise and decline of several industrial clusters, I was not able to relate this model with
the evolution of several artistic fields. Rather than perceiving a collectivity as a monolithic
block of firms, I was looking for heterogeneity of schemata and conformity to rules, practices
and forms. The challenge was to avoid investigating fields as monolithically sources of rules,
but to depict them as variable in relation to their internal structure1. As Scott warns us:
The notion of field reminds us that environments of organizations
are not random collection of resources and schemas, nor are they
constructs defined by disembodied dimensions, such as
complexity and munificence; rather, they are themselves
organized. (SCOTT, 2001, p. 136).
How organizational fields are internally organized and structured? Is it possible to
explain heterogeneity of practices from insights on a field’s structure? The work of Leblibic,
Salancik et al (1991) portrayed an example of field where peripheral companies had enough
freedom to introduce innovations. This intuition was still covered under the durkheimian
1
See “Glossário” for a discussion on the word “Structure”
6
theoretical umbrella: as we move outwards in a community, moral density decreases. As a
result, we should observe more hybrid forms (DURKHEIM, 1915; DOUGLAS, 1984).
The core-periphery paradigm was dominant in the beginning of my research. From
this perspective, I attempted to show how new styles in Jazz were born in the periphery and
eventually migrated to the core. However, some empirical findings led me to review my
theoretical framework. First, in several moments, I observed that new styles were created at
the core of the jazz community. This suggested that the mechanisms at work varied with
different field structures. Second, qualitative research showed that musicians who played
different styles frequently engaged in open conflicts. Third, the plurality of styles suggested
that the deinstitutionalization and substitution of a style for another didn’t follow necessarily
the same mechanisms observed in technological substitution. Hence, in order to understand
the phenomena at hand, I had to include in my theoretical framework elements that could
account for (1) assessment of the meaning of “structure”, (2) change in the field structure, and
(3) conflict.
The assessment of what “structure” means for different scholars leads us to understand
the theoretical basis under the field construct. For neo-institutionalists, high structuration was
described as frequent flows of information, which led to a construct closer to social networks
(DIMAGGIO;POWELL,
1983;
DIMAGGIO,
1986;
BURT,
1987;
GALASKIEWICZ;WASSERMAN, 1989; POWELL, WHITE et al, 2005). DiMaggio (1986)
suggests the application of blockmodeling analysis in order to extract positions from a social
network. Such approach gave an alternative to the core-periphery paradigm, for it allowed me
to explore with higher granularity a social network structure and apply the concept of
structural equivalence, which is preferable to the density construct. In contrast, Bourdieu takes
as the basis of a field’s structure the distribution of kinds of capital. As a consequence, I faced
the following methodological issue:
Issue 1: choose an appropriate field construct
Most of the studies cited above and probably most research in institutional analysis
take a field’s meta-logics and structure as ceteris paribus. Again, this is not in my opinion a
sanguine ontological position, but just a methodological short-cut which allows a better
description and explanation on how certain dependent variables (let say, performance,
survival or diffusion) are affected by independent variables (legitimacy indexes, density, etc.).
When we let the field meta-logics vary we must be ready to cope with higher degrees of
complexity, which might be overwhelming for a standard article. Nonetheless, this is exactly
what recent commentators on institutional studies claim future research should do (SCOTT,
7
2001; MACHADO-DA-SILVA; FONSECA; CRUBELLATE, 2005). Longitudinal research
designs should be able to account for variation in the field’s structure. To be sure, several
articles have extended our knowledge on field dynamics. For instance, Thorton and Ocasio
(1999) explore how a change in a field’s logics2 impacts the succession of key executives.
Scott, Ruef et al (2000) investigate the diffusion of health-care organizational forms in
tandem with the emergence of legitimating discourses among the medical and health care
professional communities. These articles stress a “top-down” effect, by exploring how overall
logics impact behavior. These led me to explore what was the available longitudinal analysis I
could perform:
Issue 2: choose an appropriate longitudinal methodology
Conversely, several scholars attempted to understand how individual action affects the
field structure (DIMAGGIO, 1988; POWELL, 1991). Fligstein (2001) offered a framework
relating kinds of coalitions with different types of field logics. Powell, White et al (2005)
attempt to combine the top-down and bottom-up effects through the longitudinal analysis of
social networks. In addition, we observe a range of articles exploring individual interpretative
schemata change and action throughout longitudinal analysis, either borrowing concepts from
Giddens (Tolbert & Barley; MACHADO-DA-SILVA, FONSECA, CRUBELLATE, 2005) or
Bourdieu (LOUNSBURY, 1997). Vandenberghe (1999) places Bourdieu’s theory of habitus
quite close to Giddens’s structuration concept. However, Bourdieu links the formation of
habitus to an actor’s trajectory in a field. In this thesis I haven’t explored directly the
interpretative schemata as an operational construct. However, I attempted to recover
qualitatively the reasons and beliefs that led musicians and other actors act as they did:
Issue 3: recover the individual reasons and beliefs that impacted action throughout
one’s trajectory
As suggested above, most neo-institutional concerns are focused on the vertical
relationships between institutions and actors. In its top-down approach, institutions (and
change) impact individual behavior. In its bottom-up approach, individual action impacts
institution. Scott (2001, p. 195) offers and integrative framework that depicts both top-down
and bottom-up effects, but less attention is given to competing rationalities and interpretative
schemata. As DiMaggio and Powell (1991, p. 23) stress: “Giddens’s account, however, does
little to explain why some interactions go better that others or why routines create particular
stable patterns”. Later, they affirm:
2
Scott defines institutional logics as “the belief systems and related practices that predominate in an
organizational field” (SCOTT, 2001, p. 139).
8
[R]ules are typically constructed by a process of conflict and
contestation (…). Thus, although we stress that rules and routines
bring order and minimize uncertainty, we must add that the
creation and implementation of institutional arrangements are rife
with conflict, contradiction, and ambiguity. (DIMAGGIO;
POWELL, 1991, p. 28).
To make justice to the previous research, the neo-institutional tradition has amassed
several exemplars on conflict among groups. For instance, Holm (1995) showed how different
technical approaches were supported by opposing rationalities. Greenwood and Hinings
(1996) portrayed field dynamics as the outcome of the clash and contradiction between
professional bodies. While this research did contribute for further understanding of the role of
conflicts in field dynamics, they focus on competing rationalities and logics. These agonistic
coexistence examples eventually led to the emergence of a dominant logic, which led in turn
to the process of institutionalization and isomorphism of elected forms. The case of Jazz,
however, showed an increasing coexistence of competing legitimacy sources and styles,
which gave no signal to subdue to a homogeneous conformity3.
The proposal of Bourdieu that fields are not only social spaces where actors share
rules and norms, but also spaces where they struggle, gave me a possible avenue for
understanding the dynamics in the jazz field. This alternative approach is also suggested by
several institutionalist scholars (DIMAGGIO; POWELL, 1991, p. 25; SCOTT, 2001, p. 142).
However, this choice was punctuated with challenges. I want to cite two problems in
undertaking Bourdieu’s approach in tandem with my previous choices. First, Bourdieu didn’t
include in his theory a full appraisal of social network analysis. Second, his construct of field
is ultimately based on a conception of power. In spite of Powell’s (1991) attempt to bring in
power and Bourdieusian intuitions into the neo-institutional tradition (see also Lounsbury,
1997, for a proposal to include the concept of habitus in the institutional analysis), scholars in
this tradition have followed a different path: interactions matter, and power seems to be
coupled to legitimacy4. The issue then was to meet a reasonable compromise while setting the
boundaries between two approaches that are not easily reconcilable:
3
Scott (2001, p. 140, p. 161, p. 177, p. 189) presents several research examples of “pluralistic” and
“contentious” fields, where institutional spheres clash against each other. As Scott focuses on the macro
institutional spheres, as if disembodied of individuals, one cannot avoid linking his institutional analysis to his
early structuralist phase.
4
This distinction might be observed between Giddens and Bourdieu accounts of power. Giddens follows closely
the functional idea that power is linked to legitimacy. As a consequence, the access to resources is allowed only
to legitimate agency. Bourdieu, in contrast, understands the institutions as homologous to power structures. He
reverses Giddens’s formula, by stating that the legitimacy attached to resources was originally linked to power
9
Issue 4: reconcile and contrast the neo-institutional and Bourdieusian approaches
I found a common thread between neo-institutionalists and Bourdieu in the writings of
Harrison White. In contrast to neo-institutionalists, White has explored the horizontal
relationships among actors. The way that actors generate discourses which include the
position of other actors deeply affects the construction of one’s identity. From this
perspective, White maintains both levels of analysis: the overall market gains a “market
identity” (WHITE, 2002a), while actors enact each other (and oneself) identity as they seek
for higher control in their social spaces (WHITE, 1992a). While Bourdieu stresses the
coupling between position and social identity, White treats the formation of social identities
as a continuous process, where social interaction is not always coupled to social identity. As a
consequence, interaction and identity are seen as co-constitutive:
Issue 5: explore the emergence of identities in tandem with changes in social network
Although scholars within and among schools (neo-institutionalists, Bourdieusians,
etc.) disagree on the epistemological status of social forms (i.e., categories, institutions), they
all agree that institutions should not be granted an ontological status. Institutions are the
outcome of individual enactment and collective intersubjective sharing of meanings. But if
categories are socially constructed (BERGER; LUCKMANN, 1966), we should ask what
makes an institution resilient. In other words, if social actors are conscious that social
categories are not given, but constructed, why do they conform to these institutions? Again,
there are at least two concurrent explanations. A Bourdieusian approach, for instance, insists
that socially constructed categories gain an ontological status as its proponents are able to
naturalize its existence. In other words, powerful actors are able to delete the social traces that
generated the naturalized categories (BOURDIEU, 1993a). A phenomenological approach
stresses that categories have the effect of economizing cognitive activity by reducing
environmental complexity (WEICK; SUTCLIFFE; OBSTFELD, 2005). While I don’t believe
it is possible to disentangle the power and cognitive effects, in this thesis I favor the cognitive
aspect of the emergence of new categories:
Issue 6: explore the emergence of new categories in tandem with cognitive operations
Following, I explore how the chapters in this thesis are related with the issues depicted
above.
struggles. This discussion is not new in Organizational Studies. One may trace it back to Etzioni’s (1961) and
Coser’s (1966) criticism to the Parsonian reading of legitimacy in Weber’s writings.
10
1.2 Chapters in this Thesis
Issue 1 (choice of field structure) is betrayed by Issue 5. The choice of social network
analysis is present in my research since the beginning, as the paradigms of “core-periphery”
and “positions” supported much of my empirical analysis. Nonetheless, the concern with an
inappropriate hodgepodge of theories led me to compare the epistemological and
methodological basis of neo-institutional, Bourdieu’s and White’s approaches.
“Fields and Networks” tries to achieve that. I begin by exploring the weberian roots
in Bourdieu’s writings: the concepts of closure and domination. In contrast, I propose that
social network analysts and neo-institutionalists have offered a picture of open system and
conflicting sources of legitimacy. While for Bourdieu social networks are instrumental for
accessing resources and reproducing identities, for social network scholars, interactions could
lead to novel information and identities.
Although the prospects of comparison seemed slim, I found the common reliance on
the simmelian concept of triad (which eventually led to the development of structural
equivalence construct). While Bourdieu regarded the social relations in an ordered pattern,
coupled to power vectors, Harrison White proposed that social interactions could occur in
spite of expected patterns. If social networks are not always coupled to a field’s logic, it is
possible to grasp social network dynamics as not reducible to a field’s logics. Both may be
analyzed as distinct dimensions.
Once the social network analysis approach was granted methodological legitimacy (as
the blockmodel approach relates to issue 1 – field construct), I was able to perform an analysis
of social networks among Jazz musicians. In “Jazz Field Evolution”, I center my attention on
Issue 5 – emergence of new styles in tandem with changes in the social network structure. For
that purpose, I have also faced methodological issues while coping with issues 2 and 4.
Because I have applied the blockmodel approach, I was led to “slice” my longitudinal data in
periods, rather than analyzing it as temporally continuous. On one hand, I obtained “pictures”
of these “slices” (periods), which gave me the opportunity to bridge them with interpretation,
mostly backed by qualitative research. On the other hand, the “slicing” leads to a loss of
information, for instead of analyzing actors throughout their trajectories, I reduced them to
positions. The lack of information on individuals’ trajectories kept issue 3 almost untouched. I
was not able to observe one’s trajectory, but I summarized demographic and other relevant
information on all leaders in each position. As a result, I was able to include variables such
“years in the field” and “number of sessions recorded” or “’race’”, which placed the analysis
11
at an intersection between social network analysis, and the Bourdieusian field concept (Issue
4). I grounded my explanation on ideal types of fields. These analytical tools provided me
coherent theoretical bundles that could be compared with my empirical findings. As a
consequence, much of my analysis attempted to understand how variables changed vis-à-vis
each other under the light of the embraced ideal types.
The chapter “Career in the Right Beat” attempts to cover some ground on issue 3.
Ideally, the study of trajectories should illuminate obscure aspects in the field dynamics. For
that purpose, I should be able to either interview my subjects or perform content analyses on
their discourses. To be sure, biographies, autobiographies, interviews, articles are available
for that purpose. However, such endeavor would be beyond the scope of this thesis. Hence, I
took a less ambitious path and attempted to summarize several biographies in a typical career
path. No doubt such reduction led me to discard individual information that could guide me to
better understand the social network dynamics seen at “Jazz Evolution”. However, my
concern here was not to explain the overall field change and its relational aspects (how
musicians perceived each other vis-à-vis race, style affiliation, age, etc.), but just individual
action. The kernel of the argument is the following: musicians who conform to typical career
paths should also conform to established institutions. In other words, social attainment should
be institutionally regulated; otherwise we wouldn’t observe the overall field effects. Now, if
we accept that an institutionalized career path is regarded as rational (Weber’s rationalization)
and has external coercion (Durkheim’s social fact), it would be expected that ceteris paribus
actors in a field would reinforce and reproduce the field’s structure. But social change in this
case is an empirical fact. When I explored some innovators’ bios, I have found disregard to
institutionalized career paths as concomitant or preceding innovation. However, what I
observe is not a total disregard to all institutions; innovators and mavericks do rely on
legitimacy sources that might be latent, not completely absorbed, or somewhat excluded from
the status order. Conversely, I tried to avoid explaining individual contempt to established
career paths by building in my narrative capricious tastes or arbitrary personality traits5.
Instead, I tried to show that musicians who bet in alternative paths faced periods of transition
in their careers that coincided with moments when the field itself was changing. As a
consequence, the legitimacy sources underlying action were also going through
rearrangements.
5
The habitus concept is so flexible that one could be easily tempted to use it as a “jack-of-all-traits” explanatory
tool.
12
Categories were so far treated as reified entities. However, the enactment of a
category, in our case a “style” is at the core of the cognitive dimension in the neo-institutional
tradition (Issue 6). Bourdieu, in contrast, will regard the capacity of “naming” objects as
originated in the power of well positioned actors. In this thesis I emphasized the cognitive
dimension of the creation of new categories. In “How do Outsider Styles Become
Legitimated”, I explore how a given category (Bossa Nova) is compared to another one
(Jazz). Here the interpretative schemata under analysis are not that of musicians, but the
critics’; and the crucial challenge is to identify the elements that provided the legitimacy of
Bossa Nova in an institutionalized field like Jazz’s. Although the social network evolution is
taken as an explanatory variable (Issue 1 and Issue 5), most attention is given to the cognitive
operations (Issue 6).
In “Tropicália”, I depict how Tropicalist musicians were able to legitimate a new
category (Tropicalia), by first establishing bridges between opposing groups (Bossa Nova and
Jovem Guarda). It is worth noting that this brokerage is mostly symbolic, as the Tropicalists’
albums reproduced the repertoire from both groups. To be sure, this movement could be
easily described by Berger and Luckmann as the externalization and objectification effects.
But what is pointed out here is that any new institution has to find its place among a web of
existent institutions. Such task might be achieved through direct conflict, or backed by subtle
action. The latter refers to the “Robust Action” concept proposed by Padgett and Ansell
(1993). Again, I am not directly assessing one’s interpretative schemata, but looking at the
physical artifacts left behind (recorded albums). From these albums, I am inferring how
musicians perceived their social milieu.
13
2. Fields and Networks: Theoretical Distinctions, Convergence and Perspectives
Abstract
Bourdieu’s Field and the American Sociology’s Network concepts have been
instrumental for social scientists to depict social spaces. Although several attempts of
convergence were pursued, the amalgamation of both in a common approach seems
unattainable. This article seeks to compare Bourdieu’s and Harrison White’s theories,
showing the elements that are irreducible to each other, as well as some common intuitions
(e.g. the Simmelian characterization of competition as indirect conflict). Rather than offering
an articulation of these theories, I propose that they are complementary in understanding the
dynamics of a social space. Bourdieu’s capital-based Field construct leads us closer to explain
one’s interests in connection to her actions. White’s focus on ambiguous action within social
networks is relevant to understand how actors uncouple recurrent patterns of social
reproduction. As such, it helps us to locate unexpected action in a given field. Finally, I
recover empirical examples where both approaches were applied.
2.1 Introduction: beyond Functionalism
One of the most popular streams of research in the revival of Economic Sociology
explores the social conditions where economic transactions take place (GUILLEN et al, 2002;
SWEDBERG, 2004). In general, such approach has rejected the radical methodological
individualism initially proposed by economics, and lately introduced in the sociology (see for
instance, COLEMAN, 1990).
Granovetter (1985), for instance, draws our attention to the embeddedness condition of
the economic life. Granovetter, among other sociologists, claim that economic phenomena
occur within social networks and take in account shared values, cognitive schemata and trust,
beyond the instrumental rationality entailed in the traditional economic analyses. Although
such approach is not new, contemporary economic sociologists have been able to study
economic phenomena as occurring in social contexts, and thus, revitalizing older insights
proposed by classical sociologists.
A subset of contemporary economic sociologists has insisted that the study of
economic phenomena should not only take the social context as a constraint or resource, but
also understand how individual actions and social phenomena are webbed together
(EMIRBAYER, 1997). Moreover, these scholars assert that the sheer formation of individual
14
interest takes in account at the same time the broader context and the action of other actors
(DIMAGGIO, 1994; SWEDBERG, 2003). As a consequence, the understanding of social
action becomes an effort to uncover how social space is explained by patterns of relations.
Such patterns of relations are the product of individual action and at the same time the context
where individuals act.
Although this rejection to the methodological individualism might be found already in
the classical sociology, we owe to Parsons one of the most vigorous criticism of
methodological individualism. Parsons (1949) attacked what he called the “randomness of
interests”, proposed by the Utilitarian tradition. In its place, Parsons suggested that individuals
take up social roles in their process of socialization. As individuals are allocated to such roles,
their action is prescribed by a given script. The connection of roles occurs at multiple levels,
eventually reaching the societal level, where norms govern the sustainability of the whole
system. Sustainability is a central concern for Parsons, as well as “the problem of order”.
From that perspective, Parsons understands that in a well-regulated society conflicts are
always short-termed, quickly resolved by upper spheres in the system.
The Parsonian architecture received several attacks by the end of the seventies.
Among these challenges, one attack came from the micro-sociology. Goffman (1967), for
instance, challenged the Parsonian idea of allocation to a social role. For Goffman, individuals
are not allocated but they conform to social roles, while partially retaining their freedom of
choice. This division between outer conformity and inner subjectivity led Goffman to explore
how social interactions could also encompass individual strategic action. Nadel (1957), on the
other hand, showed that social relations do not follow the script predicted by social roles.
Moreover, Nadel proposed that instead of studying how individuals are allocated to social
roles, sociologists should investigate whether the actual networks followed the social roles’
prescription.
Another attack came from the conflict sociologists (COLLINS, 1975, 1980; COSER,
1966). Collins, for instance, performed a re-interpretation of Weber, and showed that in the
Weberian tradition institutions are the product of conflicts in society. Following this logic,
Parsons’s underrating of the conflict as an explanatory factor was interpreted as misreading
reading the Weberian ideas. The last challenge that I present came from the rational choice
tradition. As Parsons insisted that economic action is subordinated to societal norms and
values, rational choice scholars, refused such ideas as transforming individuals in puppets in a
“methodological holism”.
Coleman (1990), for instance, proposed that the institutional
changes in society are actually effect of underlying individual actions. As a consequence, a
15
model for social change should always take in account individuals’ interests and strategic
action.
The concept of field tries to recover the sociological intuition that interests and social
action are interconnected, while resisting the over determination of one’s action by the social
system or societal norms. This article will explore the concept of field and mainly two
theoretical traditions: Bourdieu’s field theory and Harrison White’s social network studies. I
will deploy most of my efforts in comparing Bourdieu’s approach to the contemporary social
network approach, although comparisons against the Parsonian functionalism will be
unavoidable, since both Bourdieu’s and White’s theories proposals sharply contrast with the
latter approach. Finally, I’ll explore the limitations in both theoretical and methodological
methods and point possible directions for future research.
2.2 The concept of Field - origins and traditions
Martin (2003) and Mohr (2000) show that the idea of field has its origins in Lewin’s
studies of social psychology. For Lewin, the analytical device of field should encompass all
relevant factors that influenced one’s action. As a consequence, Lewin’s diagrams included
not only social relations, but also (inter alia) institutions and events. Following a Gestalt
approach, Lewin attempted to understand how these factors affected social action. In spite of
its originality, the complexity of Lewin’s approach precluded his tool to become popular
among sociologists.
The idea of field would be eventually recovered by Pierre Bourdieu, and later, by neoinstitutional scholars. Following, I will recover Bourdieu’s concepts related to his field theory.
2.3 Bourdieu’s concept of Field
2.3.1 Structure and Types of Capital
Bourdieu’s theory of field is inspired by Lewin’s earlier propositions and Cassirer’s
ideas of relational construction of reality. Nonetheless, he deemphasizes the role of social
interaction, which places his concept of Field at odds with the contemporary social network
analysis developments (BOURDIEU; WACQUANT, 1992, p.113). Instead, Bourdieu
believed that the most important factor to explain the field structure is the volume and the
kinds of capitals each individual bears, as well as her objective trajectory. As a consequence,
for Bourdieu, direct interaction might be irrelevant to understand social action.
16
Inspired by the Marx, Bourdieu proposes that differences of capital among individuals
occur in tandem with social stratification. Nonetheless, following Weber’s footsteps,
Bourdieu doesn’t believe that only economic capital is important to one’s action. Instead,
Bourdieu incorporates the Weberian intuition that the social differentiation occurs in tandem
with the emergence of autonomous spheres of value. As a consequence, individuals
accumulate and mobilize different kinds of capital. The most prominent kinds of capital in
Bourdieu’s writings are the economic capital, cultural capital, social capital and symbolic
capital (BOURDIEU, 1998).
Economic capital refers to the monetary wealth that one is able to mobilize and spend.
For its very nature, it is the most fungible of all kinds of capital. The cultural capital refers to
the titles and certifications one received from accredited institutions. Social capital refers to
the stable social relations one holds and is able to mobilize in order to obtain other kinds of
capital. Finally, symbolic capital refers to awards, recognition and status one receives
throughout her trajectory in the field (BOURDIEU, 1986).
2.3.2 Positions and Dispositions
A position in a field refers to a given structure of capitals. One empirical example is
found in Bourdieu’s study of the late nineteenth century literary field in France. While massconsumption writers had high volume of capital, and mostly composed of economic capital,
avant-garde writers controlled a smaller amount of capital, and most of it was composed by
cultural and symbolic capital (BOURDIEU, 1993a).
A position dictates for its occupants the structure of possible actions one may pursue.
Individuals with little capital have fewer resources available in comparison to their capitalrich colleagues. Writers with strong connections with well-established publishing houses are
able to tap larger marketing and distribution resources, thus delivering their books to a large
audience. Not surprisingly, these writers follow “mass-consumption” styles. As a
consequence, newcomers to the field, with little economic or symbolic capital, are compelled
to acquire cultural capital and push the field’s boundaries towards “avant-garde”. Following
this logic, Bourdieu would state, innovation is brought by field-young writers, with little
access to established channels.
Although individuals that occupy the same position might have the same structure of
opportunities, this collocation is not enough to explain one’s action (BOURDIEU, 1998). An
actor’s action is also explained by his disposition, which is constructed throughout his
17
experiences and trajectory in the field. Here, Bourdieu operated a major break with Parsons’s
concept of role-taking. While Parsons described a tight coupling between one’s interest and
the script entailed in that role, Bourdieu’s model lets the question whether position and
disposition are coupled to the empirical verification.
2.3.3 Habitus and Practices
An important link between Bourdieu’s Theory of Action and his propositions on the
Field Theory is the concept of Habitus. While positions refer to certain volume and structure
of capital, disposition refers to one’s history in the field. Bourdieu offered the concept of
Habitus, as the individual’s schemata that is mobilized as she perceives the functioning of the
field. It is:
[S]ystems of durable, transposable dispositions, structured
structures predisposed to function as structuring structures, that is,
as principles which generate and organize practices and
representations that can be objectively adapted to their outcomes
without presupposing a conscious aiming at end or express
mastery of the operations necessary in order to attain them.
(BOURDIEU 1990a, p. 53)
The habitus helps Bourdieu explain how agents perceive objective structures and take
action. Hence, it works as mediator between these two observable stances. Being subjectively
given, the habitus reveals itself only indirectly. Bourdieu explains how one’s habitus is
responsible for the activity of categorization, the decision process of capital conversion in a
field and finally, whether a course of action is good or bad. Ultimately, then, it is important to
understand one’s habitus as an embodiment of the field. While an individual is only a point in
a field, the whole field is comprehended in that point (VANDENBERGHE, 1999).
Bourdieu (1998) admonishes his readers to resist the idea that the habitus is
overdetermined by the field’s structure. As shown above, one’s habitus is a set of durable and
stable dispositions. Hence, we could infer that Bourdieu’s agency is mostly geared towards
habitual action (DALTON, 2004, follows this logic). In addition, one’s habitus would be
challenged only by external crises (BOURDIEU, 1984b). Bourdieu himself suggests a
conservative reading of the habitus:
Through the systematic ‘choices’ it makes among the places,
events and people that might be frequented, the habitus tends to
protect itself from crises and critical challenges by providing itself
with a milieu to which it is pre-adapted as possible, that is, a
relatively constant universe of situations tending to reinforce its
18
dispositions by offering the market most favourable to its products
(BOURDIEU, 1990a, p. 61, italics from the original).
As he insists, there is no circular relationship between habitus and field. The habitus is
still a “product of structures and producer of the practices and reproducer of the habitus”
(BOURDIEU; PASSERON 1970, p. 244). From this perspective, VANDENBERGHE (1999)
suggests an understanding of habitus closer to Giddens’s structuration (GIDDENS, 1986).
The habitus is constructed throughout one’s trajectory and embodies one’s
expectations on how her kinds of capitals are exchanged. As a consequence, depending on
one’s position and habitus, he or she might engage in different practices that will eventually
lead to different employment of capitals. The heterogeneity of individuals’ habitus explains
why individuals at the same position might pursue completely different ways of action. Again,
this perspective differs substantially from Parsons. For Parsons, as individuals’ allocation to
roles occurs in tandem with their socialization, it is difficult to understand why individuals in
the same role would pursue different ways of action.
2.3.4 Power, Struggle and Domination
For Bourdieu, the field is a space where power is exercised as the collocated actors are
able to mobilize different quantities and kinds of capital. Actors who control larger amounts
of a given resource are able to impose their dominance over those actors with less capital.
Following Weber’s closure phenomenon, Bourdieu envisions that the closed networks of
powerful actors impose dominance over less powerful actors. Such dominance is translated in
the rules of the field. These rules entail how a given capital circulates and is exchanged by
other kinds of capitals.
Because powerful actors control the exchange rates and the flows of capital in the
field, they are also able to reproduce their dominance. Such dominance, nonetheless, should
not be understood as a complete acceptance of the rules of the game by the dominated.
Bourdieu proposes that a field also encompasses the struggles among the actors, not only for
economic and symbolic resources, but also for the chance of establishing the rules of the
game:
[T]he degree of indeterminacy and fuzziness in the objects of the
social world, together with the practical, pre-reflexive and implicit
nature of the schemes of perception and appreciation that are
applied to them, is the Archimedean leverage point that is
19
objectively offered for political action proper. (BOURDIEU,
1985, p.729)
2.3.5 Stability and Change
Needless to say, some actors are more skillful than others in handling their resources
and taking advantages of the rules of the field. When Bourdieu studied the field of cultural
production, he described the trajectories of three types of actors. First, there are those actors
who understand the rules of the game to an extent that they are able to manipulate them.
Second, those who naively follow fads and fashions, and their trajectories are shaped by the
field’s bandwagons. Finally, we observe those who just occupy a middle position between the
most skillful and the naïve actors. Although the investigation of all the three types of
trajectories is important for Bourdieu, it is the study of the above and below average actors
that is most productive in revealing the dynamics of the field.
Naïve actors tend to follow trends when these are almost exhausted, or conversely,
they engage in innovations when the field is not yet ready for them. The lack of fit between
capital investment (understood in a broad sense) and return, and the subsequent adaptation of
positioning and the turn of trajectory reveals how capital allocation functions in the field.
Naïve actors are manipulated by more powerful actors to engage in actions that are unlikely to
yield the expected returns. On the other hand, above average actors are able to capture
extraordinary profits from capital exchange.
To be sure, there exist times when non-dominant players are able to manipulate or
subvert the rules of the game. Although such events promise a great opportunity for change,
Bourdieu reminds us that they are rare. In contrast, most of the time the field dynamics follow
the logics of reproduction, which is to say that the struggle among actors will not necessarily
yield a change in their relative positioning:
Those who occupy the dominated positions within the social space
are also located in dominated positions in the field of symbolic
production, and it is not clear where they could obtain the
instruments of symbolic production that are needed in order to
express their specific viewpoint on the social space (…).
(BOURDIEU, 1985, p. 736)
Conversely, Bourdieu envisions exogenous changes in distribution of resources as a
much more promising source of social change. As actors are able to tap larger pulls of
resources due to societal or technological changes, the field’s internal dynamics might change
in tandem with the emergence of the new power configuration. In addition, as suggested
20
above, internal crises might trigger the production and diffusion of new discourses
(BOURDIEU, 1985, p. 734). In short, though, Bourdieu’s model tends to focus on the
reproduction of modes of domination (BOURDIEU, 2005, p.80). Vandenberghe will
complain that Bourdieu could “open up his system, avoid deterministic descriptions of stable
reproduction, and give voluntarism its due” (1999, p. 62). I’ll return to Vandenberghe’s point
when comparing Bourdieu’s approach to Harrison White’s.
2.3.6. A fractal model of fields
We should resist the temptation of reification of the concept of the field. The concept
of field is not itself a social fact that we may observe directly through empirical investigation.
A field is an analytical device applied to understand how habitus, capital and practices are
intertwined in social life (SUDDABY et al, forthcoming). For that reason, in order to
understand the totality of one’s action in the society, the researcher should locate the
individual in all fields where she invests her capital. Conversely, a social space is defined as
the totality of fields present at the societal level (BOURDIEU, 1985, p. 724).
In contrast with Parsons, who understands the coupling of different spheres in an
overall social system, Bourdieu envisions the embeddedness of fields in the social milieu. As
a consequence, for Bourdieu, the way that capital flows within and between fields denotes the
degree that they are autonomous (or heteronomous) in relation to each other. The
embeddedness of fields and the respective flows of capitals impose a homology across all
fields in a given society. From that perspective, Bourdieu defends the idea that different
fields’ inner power logics will be not only comparable, but also quite similar. This is the result
of the existence of a “meta-field”, the field of power that regulates the relationship among the
different kinds of capital. As a consequence, we should find, following Bourdieu, comparable,
albeit not the same, power games, be it the whole society, a given field, or a sub-field. Such
power games are imposed throughout society as a consequence of the flow of different
capitals. This homology suggests a fractal power structure across the societal spaces.
Typical examples of fields that Bourdieu analyzed comprise the field of cultural
production, the field of scientific production, the field of State power and so on. The empirical
objects chosen by Bourdieu were traditionally macro, comprising large sets of social actors
(artists, scientists, universities, art galleries, publishing houses, etc.). This approach could
suggest that he perceived organizations as monolithically actors, equating them to any other
social actor. Nonetheless, in his late writings Bourdieu envisioned organizations not only as
21
embedded in fields, but as field themselves, as they are able to control and exchange different
types of capitals within their boundaries (BOURDIEU, 2005, p. 81).
As a matter of fact, Bourdieu spent most of his career in empirical investigations of
fields, and whether such fields followed the same power logics. Nevertheless, as Bourdieu
himself recognizes (BOURDIEU; WACQUANT, 1992) more effort should be devoted to
understanding the relationship among fields: how capitals flow from one field to another and
how the conversion effectively takes place. Bourdieu claims that such enterprise was
underplayed during his career due to its complexity.
2.3.7. Interaction and Social Networks in Bourdieu’s theory
Within Bourdieu’s theory, social networks play a very limited role. As I showed
above, social capital constitutes one kind of capital, where stable social networks are
mobilized in order to attain other kinds of capital. Following, I argue that social networks
could complement Boudieu’s theory in two dimensions: a broader understanding of social
space, and the complete incorporation of social networks as one explanatory factor for social
change and inter-field interaction.
As I pointed above, Bourdieu’s idea of social capital is inspired in the Weberian
concept of closure. For Bourdieu, powerful actors are able to close a social space to outsiders
by imposing high exchange rates to different types of capital. As a consequence, only the
mobilization of strong and durable social ties yields access to resources. In contrast,
Granovetter (1973, 1983) suggests that weak ties are much more effective when what is on
stake is the possibility of receiving fresh information from outside the actor’s original social
milieu.
In spite of these contributions from the contemporary American Economic Sociology,
Bourdieu (BOURDIEU; WACQUANT, 1992) confirms his interpretation that such efforts are
related to a “radical Durkheimianism”. For Bourdieu, the study of social networks as an
explanatory device has its tradition in the Durkheim’s teachings on community cohesion. As
such, it doesn’t take in account, from Bourdieu’s perspective, that the most important
relationships in a field are not those of direct interaction, but those governed by the power
logics that govern the game between different strata.
Nonetheless, Bourdieu (2005) borrows inspiration on Simmel as well, in order to
clarify this point. It is worthwhile to recover the original Simmelian proposition, for its
centrality in this discussion. For Simmel, it is not the direct contact between producers that
22
explains the market dynamics. In contrast, Simmel (1955) explains, it is the interaction of
producers within a common consumer that constitutes competition:
Innumerable times, [competition] achieves what usually only love
can do: the divination of the innermost wishes of the other, even
before he himself becomes aware of them. Antagonistic tension
with tension with his competitor sharpens the businessman’s
sensitivity to the tendencies of the public, even to the point of
clairvoyance, in respect to future changes in the public’s tastes,
fashions, interests. (SIMMEL, 1955, p. 62)
Bourdieu follows the same simmelian intuition in a later writing on economic
anthropology, and suggests a dialogue with Harrison White’s network theory:
[The] sometimes lethal constraints the dominant producers impose
on their current or potential competitors are invariably mediated
by the field: consequently, competition is never other than
‘indirect conflict’ (in Simmel’s sense) and is not targeted directly
against the competitor. In the economic field, as elsewhere, the
struggle does not need to be inspired by any intention to destroy
for it to produce destructive effects. (We may deduce an ‘ethical’
consequence from the vision of the worlds of production as fields:
just as we can say with Harrison White that ‘each firm is
distinctive,’ as a position in a field, a point in a space. (…).
(BOURDIEU, 2005, p. 83).
The relational aspect among actors in a field is explained by indirect interactions. As
Mohr (2000) and De Nooy (2003) explain, this concept is covered by the contemporary social
network analysis by the concept of structural equivalence, sharply different from social
cohesion. This distinction will be recovered in the following section, where I develop the
interactionist and social network approach to social spaces, in order to build a comparison
with Bourdieu’s theoretical body.
2.4 Interactionist Approach to Fields
The idea of mapping a social space through the reconstruction of its social networks
may be found already in the works of Durkheim. Durkheim (1915) offers a picture of a
community where it is in its core where its moral values are stronger, while going towards the
periphery we find a lower density of social ties and lower presence of the community’s
values.
Heirs of the Durkheimian tradition, such as Mary Douglas and Randall Collins,
advanced the core/periphery model to encompass dynamics inside the community. Douglas
23
(1986) shows how in many communities several rites of passage are possible only at the
fringes of the community, where visibility is lower. Douglas compares the community to a
human body. Following Durkheim’s lead, Douglas shows how the sacredness of the human
body is projected to the community body. As a consequence, profane practices (as opposed to
sacred practices) may occur only at the fringes of the community.
For Collins, social life takes place through interactions and rituals (COLLINS, 2004).
Out of these interactions and rituals, individuals generate emotional energy, and common
symbols and shared meanings emerge, maintaining the “social glue”. So far, Collins follows
closely Durkeim’s footsteps. In addition, following Mead and Goffman, Collins believes that
the individuals’ identities are constructed at the interactions. Moreover, such interactions
might be cooperative, hierarchical as well as competitive. If in a competitive situation an
individual is unable to sustain the required emotional energy to keep the game going, he will
be eventually excluded from that circle. Collins recovers, for that purpose, the history of the
field of philosophy, from the Ancient China until our times, to illustrate how communities of
philosophers evolved around circles of interactions and public discussions (COLLINS, 2000).
Such circles included from three to seven competing philosophical schools. If the community
at a given period generated more than seven schools, a skeptical movement would take place
and subsequent consolidation would follow. Conversely, as the number of schools approached
its minimum, a cognitive space would be open for new schools to emerge. Following these
intuitions, Collins reconstructed the history of philosophy as cycles between fragmentation
and consolidation of schools, which are documented by both the social networks of
philosophers as well as the cognitive networks among the philosophy schools. The role of
conflict is central in his narrative, as he adds to his theory a conflict dimension mainly
borrowed from Weber (COLLINS, 1975). Collins shows that truly new ideas in the
philosophical field didn’t emerge necessarily from new comers to the field, but several times
from incumbents who reacted to challengers.
In spite of the inclusion of the conflictive dimension by interactionist scholars, like
Collins, most of the social network analysis tradition still follows closely core/periphery
paradigm, where the density of ties is the major explanatory factor. In the following section, I
will recover Harrison White’s approach on the analysis of social network, as an alternative to
the cohesion approach.
24
2.4.1 The Harrison White School of Social Network Analysis
White, Boorman and Breiger (1976), influenced by Simmel’s idea of indirect
interaction among competitors, developed the concept of “structural equivalence”. Two actors
are structurally equivalent if they are connected to the same actors in the network. Also, they
do not need to be directly connected in order to be structurally equivalent. Needless to say,
few actors will be perfectly structural equivalent. For that reason, the authors proposed an
algorithm to build a proximity matrix among all actors in the network. In that matrix, the
authors were able to group those actors who were closely structurally equivalent in common
partitions. These partitions were labeled “positions”, for as in the Social Role Theory
(MERTON, 1968; NADEL, 1957), individuals in the same role would be embedded in a
similar pattern of relations.
The authors applied this structural equivalent analysis approach to the data extracted
from social networks in a monastery and built structural positions across time. In contrast to
the standard cohesion analysis, these “positions” showed to the researchers which groups
were engaged in the conflict that would eventually lead the monastery to its end. As a
consequence, “structural position” was incorporated to social network analysis as distinct to
social cohesion.
Direct and indirect heirs of White might be divided in three groups. A first group,
exemplified by Mark Granovetter (and as a matter of fact, one of the White’s supervisees),
attempted to understand whole structures and how information flows through these structures.
A second group, exemplified by Ronald Burt, reduced the idea of structural equivalence to an
individual actor’s feature. Thus, a strategic actor should improve his structural position in
order to exploit the lack of connections among isolated actors. Burt labeled such lack of ties
“structural holes” (BURT, 1992). By focusing on the individual actor, Burt brings back the
methodological individualism that was refused by the early economic sociological tradition.
Finally, a third stream of scholars, not satisfied to limit themselves to purely structural
analyses, chose to understand how the structure of an organizational field affected the
diffusion of rules and norms (DIMAGGIO; POWELL, 1983; DIMAGGIO, 1993).
2.4.2. Neo-Institutionalism and Social Networks
In the Powell and DiMaggio’s proposal of neo-institutionalism, the idea of field was
originally inspired on Bourdieu and Warren (MOHR, 2005), on the extent that it referred to a
social space that includes all relevant actors in an economic sector and encompasses shared
25
meanings and schemata. Yet, the conflictive aspect, present in both Bourdieu’s and Collins’s
writings was downplayed by the early neo-institutional theorists.
Abundant bibliography has explored the limitations and developments of the neoinstitutional school. I want here to point three limitations: tendency for reification of social
forms (Mohr, 2005), lack of prominence to agency (DIMAGGIO, 1988; MACHADO-DASILVA, FONSECA, CRUBELLATE, 2005) and conflict (MISOCZY, 2003), and lack of
emphasis on the interactional aspect of the theory (SCOTT, 2001).
As the neo-institutional approach gained popularity, its phenomenological roots were
displaced in favor of a more positivistic approach. In that sense, social meaning, as a product
of social construction, was taken as a “thing” that diffused across a given community. Several
studies tried to explore how these social forms diffused, were adopted and how they affected
companies’ survival (for instance, see BAUM; OLIVER, 1992). This trend cut loose the need
to ask some basic questions on social dynamics: who create new forms? How do these forms
and meanings change as they diffuse across a field? How do competitive forms interact in a
given field? How do conflict and coalitions affect the construction of these forms and
meanings? Most importantly for the scope of this article: how does the field’s social network
change in tandem with the construction of meaning?
The Neo-Institutionalist effort to introduce the interactionist aspect to the Field theory,
although explicit in its initial proposition (DIMAGGIO; POWELL, 1983), received little
attention from its followers (SCOTT, 2001). One of the few articles that included a social
network aspect to field was DiMaggio’s (1986) study of U.S. museums’ managers.
In this study, DiMaggio borrows White, Boorman and Breiger approach of structural
position in order to understand whether museum managers in the same position would share
the same features. Although the study was successful in uncovering common features among
individuals in the same position, its cross-sectional approach limited the possible inference of
the field’s dynamics. In other words, there was still a deficit in the understanding of the
underlying process that explained how networks and meaning constructed each other.
2.4.3. Contemporary Social Network Analysis
If the neo-institutionalist bandwagon underplayed the role of social networks, the
social network tradition went mostly to the other direction, towards a lack of emphasis on
meaning, power, or less attention to a field as a whole.
26
For instance, Burt (2004) analyzed how good ideas are brought to organizations. In his
study with 673 managers, he confirmed his hypothesis that individuals who control a larger
number of structural holes have higher probability of bringing new ideas. Nonetheless, in this
study, there is a lack of connection with the implementation phase, which touches the
hierarchical and power structures of any organization (OBSTFELD, 2005).
Gulati and Gargiulo’s (1999) study on strategic alliances is an example of social
network analysis that almost doesn’t take in consideration the meaning that is embedded in
social ties. The authors use longitudinal data on strategic alliances to predict future alliances.
Although the authors are successful in building a robust explanatory model, we find a
reification of social ties. Questions like, “what does flow within these ties” or “how does the
creation of new ties connect with the overall social context” remain unanswered.
A better attempt to understand the nature of ties and their role in construction of
organizational fields might be find at Powell et al. (2005). In this research, the authors
reconstruct the strategic alliances among 482 firms. Their analysis explores how the logics of
strategic alliances evolve as the field turns to be more mature. To be sure, their effort achieves
a high understanding of how individual actions structure the whole field, and conversely, how
the whole social context influence individual action. Nevertheless, the conflictive aspect
remains barely untouched.
The social network tradition might have swerved to a “too structuralist approach”,
meaning that the questions it has proposed to answer generally converged to a reification of
social ties, lack of understanding of the total social context and underrating of the role of
power and conflict. This criticism was absorbed by Harrison White in his later writings on
social networks and markets, which suggested better perspectives of convergence between
Bourdieu’s field approach and the social network studies.
2.3. The “linguistic turn” in the Social Network Analysis
White (1992a), in his book “Identity and Control” proposed that markets are organized
around “disciplines”. A discipline imposes the pecking order that allocates customers and
suppliers. As a consequence, the social ties among commercial partners follow a pattern
dictated by these disciplines. One might observe a Parsonian departing point in White’s
theory, as “disciplines” could be compared to “functions”. However, White departs from the
Parsonian model in at least two dimensions.
27
First, White stressed the structuralist dimension of social allocation. In one of his early
writings, “Chains of Opportunity” (1970), White modeled the migration of priests among
temples using stochastic equations. In other words, he seeks to understand in what extent the
career ladder is determined not by the skills of an individual, but just “structural luck”. The
stochastic models provided a random factor in the allocation of priests to churches, where
vacancies and individuals flowed. When White reincorporates his idea of “chains of
opportunity” to his studies of social networks and disciplines, he proposed that disciplines
play an ex-post role of explaining the allocation already occurred. As a consequence,
disciplines would be, to a certain extent, subordinated to purely structural randomness.
Second, White proposed that identities are social constructs aimed at establishing
control over a pattern of allocation. Here, in contrast to the Parsonian idea of allocation of
individuals to social roles, White reverted the causality that links social roles and patterns of
interaction. It is exactly in order to maintain or change a given pattern of relations that a group
of individuals enact a new social identity. In consonance to Abbott’s (1988) study of how
different professions interact to form a complex system, White understands the coupling of
professions as regulated by disciplines that are constantly under revision due to the struggle
among the professions.
One may observe here the points of contact between Bourdieu’s cultural capital and
White’s identity, as important institutional devices on the allocation of personnel to economic
activities. In addition, both see the relationship of different professions as conflictive, as
individuals try to control the social interactions to their favor. Although both admit a certain
degree of fuzziness in the social allocation, White proposed that in several regions of a given
social network disciplines (or identities) and social networks are only loosely coupled. In such
regions, the phenomenon of “cat-net” emerges. The cat-net phenomenon depicts situations
where individuals take up categorical roles, but are able to establish social relations that are
not predicted by that category’s script (WHITE, 1992b). As individuals establish social ties
outside their original social groups, they are led to acquire new information not originally
included in their social milieu (in consonance with Granovetter’s, findings).
Above all, such ties have also the constitutive effect of affecting one’s identity. As
Mische and White (1998) argued, as individuals cross different social milieus, they are led to
develop linguistic skills that enable them to perform such transitions. Here, White established
an important departure from his own earlier propositions. While in “Identity and Control” the
individual was considered as almost only the confluence of social ties, in his later writings the
individual is brought back as the a point of tension among diverse social contexts. That is to
28
say, individuals constantly face streams of experience which are not necessarily consistent
with the social roles they took up6. By facing these contradictory situations, individuals
develop strategies to handle ambiguously conflictive claims and potentially reenact their
identities (WHITE, 2002a). From this perspective, a “too structural approach” is phased out in
favor of a phenomenological approach. In the same way that social ties influence one’s
identity, it is also one’s identity and social skills that will permit and explain the establishment
of social ties. As a consequence, this later approach places linguistic skills as important as
social ties7. Conversely, White tries to avoid the reification of social ties, for now they must
be understood as the crystallization of linguistic interaction.
White brings these intuitions back to markets as social networks (WHITE, 2002a) in
order to understand how suppliers and customers are coupled (and uncoupled) in markets. The
starting point to define the relevant unit of analysis is the same of Bourdieu’s:
The social field, to use Bourdieu’s term (…) is an inhomogeneous
collation among levels of embedded identities, and moreover such
organizations themselves become embedded in still-larger
contexts in diverse ways. Nonetheless we uncover plausible
regularities in strategizing across many scopes and domains.
(WHITE, 2002a, p. 13)
White states that in any market a price/quality schedule is established. Suppliers who
deviate from the expected schedule will either be expelled from the market, for their quality is
not consistent with the customers’ expectations, or they will lose money, for they will be
offering larger volumes at the same quality point. A price/quality schedule depicts the identity
of a market, and, again following the simmelian intuition, it is not established by direct
contact among suppliers, but through interaction with common customers. In opposition to the
neo-classical model of perfect market, White envisions the coupling of suppliers and
customers regulated by the concentration of players and the substitutability of goods. In
consonance with Industrial Organization insights, White states, the higher the concentration,
the higher the leverage of a given group. As a consequence, if suppliers are few and control
scarce resources, they are able to impose an “upstream” logic to a field. This is the case of
several industries strongly dependent on basic material supply. Conversely, if customers are
powerful and they rely on gatekeepers in order to make their purchasing decisions, a
6
Students of Organizational Theory will notice that White’s ideas resonate Weick’s (1969, 1976)
phenomenological approach to sensemaking and loosely coupled systems.
7
The phenomenon that describes the establishment of social ties as an effect of individuals’ identities is called
“homophily” (MARK, 1998). Fligstein (1997) explored how actors are able to explore institutional structures to
their advantage.
29
downstream logic is imposed. This is the case of artistic fields, where artists have to submit
themselves to critics’ scrutiny in order to have their artistic production distributed. In either
“downstream” or “upstream” markets, customers and suppliers are coupled in chains that
reflect their positioning in the market’s price/quality schedule. This positioning is established
and reinforced through signaling and the narratives around each supplier, which constitute the
social construction of reputation. As a market evolves to be a mature field, the web of
narratives coalesces around taken-for-granted codes that regulate how individual firms should
be coupled to the market.
“Code-switching”, or the capacity of subverting the established taken-for-granted
codes, is possible, but it is a rare event and possible only in those areas where social networks
and disciplines are loosely coupled and the outcomes less predictable. In these occasions,
firms are able to uncouple or decouple downstream or upstream claims and get fresh action,
while enacting new codes for the field. At this point, I’d like to take stock and discuss the
points of contact and divergence between Bourdieu’s concept of field and White’s social
network theory.
2.4. Fields and Networks – is a convergence possible?
Frame 2.1 depicts a comparison between Bourdieu’s field and White’s social network
main elements.
Concept
Bourdieu
White
Social Space Unit
•
•
Inspired in Bourdieu’s
social space, is defined
as a domain where
several identities are
embedded
•
Structure is given by the
set of relationships
among individuals
•
Given by an
individual’s degree of
similarity in its pattern
•
Structure
•
Position
•
Field is an analytical
category that depicts the
social space where
individuals invest their
capital
Social Space where
actors share cognitive
schemata, but also
struggle for better
positioning
The structure (of a
Field) is given by the
distribution and
volumes of different
kinds of capital
Given by the
individual’s volume and
kinds of capital
30
Actors’ Schemata
•
•
The perception of how a
field works is embodied
in one’s habitus
The habitus is the
product of an actor’s
trajectory in the field
•
•
of connections to other
actors (structural
equivalence)
An actor’s schemata and
linguistic skills is driven
by her switching across
social domains
Collocation in structural
equivalent positions
accounts for similar
cognitive schemata
Frame 2.1: Analytical Tools
Source: Author’s elaboration
As both Bourdieu and White draw on the Simmelian intuition of indirect conflict to
understand the phenomenon of competition, we are tempted to consider the two theories as
equivalent or at least comparable. From this perspective, comparative studies should be able
to depict a given field from both capital structure (following Bourdieu) and network structure
(following White and followers). Anheier, Gerhards and Romo’s (1995) study on German
writers somewhat followed this logic, by testing Bourdieu’s propositions against a social
network based social space.
To be sure, Bourdieu himself implied that his capital-based construct should be
empirical more stable than other constructs. Nevertheless, a comparison of theories solely
based on their results might lead us to an “epistemological fallacy”. In other words, when we
restrict ourselves to compare theories only on the basis of their methodology, we might lose
the underlying theoretical assumptions that help us to make sense out of the observed social
phenomena.
Swedberg (2004) clearly states this point, as he defends Bourdieu’s approach as the
one that most makes sense for an interpretative sociology. As Bourdieu builds the habitus as
an embodiment of the field’s structure, he is assuming that individuals are geared towards
accumulation and advantageous exchange of capitals (although obdurate schemata might
preclude one’s adaptability to new circumstances). As a result, stresses Swedberg, the way
that we understand one’s interest is consistent with our analysis of a field’s capital structure.
From this perspective, our understanding of one’s social network structure is only a secondbest, for social ties are conceived as a byproduct of one’s action. Again, following Swedberg,
one’s action is best understood as motivated by her interests, which are better described as
31
constructed in tandem with the evolution of a capital-based field rather than a social networkbased field.
But here we face a conundrum: if the establishment and disruption of ties are proxies
of social action, we should ask whether all social action is always coupled to capital-driven
interests (capital, here, in Bourdieu’s broadest sense). Conversely, if not all social action is
hastily explained by capital-driven interests, that would open up several novel avenues of
investigation: a less intellectualized conception of agency would emerge (SCHATZKI, 1997),
while we would be able to avoid an over-determination of social action. In short, even when I
advocate that social networks are second-best to explain interests, they are still a promising
methodological device to uncover unexpected social action. In short, capital and social
network constructs are not reducible to each other.
At this point, I shift our attention to some central substantive themes in both theories,
namely how the authors understand stability, change and the role of conflict. Table 2
summarizes Bourdieu’s and White’s positions around these themes:
Theme
Bourdieu
White
How is stability sustained?
•
•
Powerful actors
Incumbent actors enact
reproduce the
identities that establish a
domination
relationship of control
relationships in the field
over other actors
by defining its “rules of
•
the game”
“Downstream” or
“upstream” logics are
established depending
on the concentration of
players
How is change possible?
•
•
•
External changes impact •
“Cat-Net” phenomenon
the field’s internal
permits the decoupling
distribution of capital
between categorical
Crises reveal the
roles and social
dogmatic dimension of
networks; this
the Field’s rules
phenomenon is possible
Internal subversion of
only in certain areas of a
rules are rare events
social network
32
What is the role of
•
conflict?
Conflict is central to
•
Actors do struggle
explain position and
around codes (code-
position-taking in a
enacting and code-
Field
switiching), but most
change is due to
ambiguous action
Frame 2.2: Major Theoretical Themes
Source: Author’s elaboration
As pointed above, Bourdieu’s approach tends to focus on the reproduction of the
structures of domination, and social change is best explained as the outcome of a chain of
events triggered by either an exogenous change of resources or an internal upheaval.
Although White supports Bourdieu’s thesis that the system’s coupling is a reflection of the
power relations, his gaze is always seeking for that action that is played out of ambiguity.
Before concluding this article, I will explore an empirical example that brings together both
Bourdieu’s and White’s insights.
2.4.1 The Rise of the Medici in Florence
Padgett and Ansell (1993) recovered the blockmodeling technique proposed by White,
Scott and Breiger (1976) and applied to organizational fields by DiMaggio (1986) to
understand the process that led the Medici to power in Florence. For that purpose, the authors
reconstructed the following layers of network relationships: economic transactions (mostly
capital lending), marital exchanges among families and political affiliation and influence.
Their study shows that when the Florentian elite became polarized, due to the ostracism of
those involved in the revolt of the Ciompi, the Medici were able to occupy a privileged space
among groups that wouldn’t be connected otherwise.
While the Medici were able to establish marital relationships with the old aristocracy,
at the same time they were the only ones to lend capital to the impoverished mercantilist
classes. In other words, the logic of ostracism imposed by the old elite created an obstacle to
this very elite to sustain its hegemony in the whole social space. Due to this polarization, the
Medici were able to establish connections among the dispersed groups. For a long period, the
Medici followed closely the hegemonic logic imposed by the elite, offering no resistance.
Against the flood of conflictive prerogatives stemmed from opposing parties, the Medici
33
utilized ambiguity and geographical compartmentalization in order to keep their relationships
apart from one another. It was only when large contingents of the important families in
Florence were indebted with the Medici that they seized power. In parallel to the effort of
seizing power, the Medici also embraced a Republican discourse that justified their action.
Nevertheless, it is worth noting that the development of this new discourse (or new category,
to use White’s terminology) was possible only when the structural allowed such turn.
This analysis contrasts, but at the same time, complements Bourdieu’s theory. How
would be a Bourdieusian interpretation of Padgett and Ansell’s analysis? My attempt would
be to characterize the Medici’s action as occupying a position (in Bourdieu’s sense)
unoccupied by other actors. By accumulating social and economic capital, the Medici were
eventually able to achieve political power as well. But two aspects contrast with Bourdieu
typical empirical approach. First, Padgett and Ansell’s network analysis provided a hint of the
underlying conversion of capitals that would be available to Bourdieu only through qualitative
research. Second, their study showed a temporal uncoupling of discourse and structure. To be
sure, such temporal uncoupling of intention and results of the action is observed in both
Bourdieu and Giddens proposition. Giddens refers to nonintentional action, to that course of
action that aims at A but achieves B. And by achieving B (at the structural level) it influenced
back the actor’s choices. Bourdieu refers to “unconscious” action in a similar way. However,
when Bourdieu depicts cross-sectional fields, a tight coupling of categories (and
correspondent discourses) occurs in tandem with positioning.
But Padgett and Ansell go beyond the non-intentionallity of Guiddens and Bourdieu.
Following White’s footsteps, the authors suggest that the Medici were conscious that they
were occupying a privileged position in the field, and were able to sustain this position by the
recourse of “Robust Action”. Robust Action is the kind of action that permits a multivocality, or in other words, the actor is able to relate to different, and possibly conflictive,
claims. In the case of the Medici, they were able to sustain relationships with opposing
groups. The possibility of maintaining a practice that is acceptable by two opposing groups is
as important as the construction of the structure itself. As a consequence, it wouldn’t be
possible to explain how the Medici were able to seize that unique position without, in parallel,
explaining how the attached practices were still legitimate to other actors in the field. An
orthodox Bourdieusian approach would have troubles to arrive at the same conclusions, for it
wouldn’t be able to explain why powerful actors, from both opposing sides, refrained from
imposing sanctions against the Medici, or conversely why the friction of opposing power turfs
34
was not transformed in a generalized crisis (as described in the educational field in France, in
1968; BOURDIEU, 1984b).
2.5. Conclusion and Perspectives for Future Research
Our “background” departing point was Parsons’s functional-system architecture. In his
model, individuals take up roles, which entail scripts of behavior and pattern of relationships.
Such roles are interconnected by a societal system that eliminates enduring conflicts. Norms
and rules flow top-down in order to establish social roles changes. A sharp contrast was
drawn from both Bourdieu’s and White’s perspectives.
My approach to Bourdieu’s concept of field reconstructed the relationship between
one’s interests (embedded in his habitus) and the construction of a field. While the concept of
habitus links Bourdieu’s practice theory to his concept of field, the grounding of interests on
capital and closure restricts the possibility to explain some situations when social change
takes place. White, in contrast, recovers the social network embedding of actors to explain
how signaling and narratives are constructed. These narratives collectively constitute a
market’s identity. In the same way, code-switching enables less powerful actors to change a
market’s dynamics. Although the social network approach follows closely the byproduct of
social action, it takes pains to explain why the actors took that chain of actions. In spite of this
contrast, both approaches might be complementary. As shown above, Padgett and Ansell
reconstruction of the social networks among the Florentine families combined both
Bourdieu’s and White’s elements. As such, White’s approach might help the researcher to
understand how “fresh action” is taken a given field.
Finally, a remarkable point of contact between Bourdieu and White (as well as the
Neo-Institutionalist) approaches is the incorporation of Simmel’s intuition that competition is
best explained as indirect conflict. But while White builds his social network approach to
group together actors in structurally equivalent positions, Bourdieu seeks to understand how
actors are similarly positioned in relation to the forces in a field. Future research might
explore how social changes occur when social networks are uncoupled from other social
structures.
35
3. Jazz Field Evolution, 1930-1969: from Centralized to Decentralized Field
Abstract
By reconstructing the social networks among Jazz musicians, from 1930 to 1969, I obtain
topography of band leaders and their respective styles. The field of Jazz makes a transition
from more centralized to more decentralized. The findings suggest one might explain the
locus of new style emergence by the field’s structure evolution. When the field is centralized,
innovations are born in the core of the field. When it becomes decentralized, one observes
innovation at the fringes. Also, the uncoupling of structural and capital variables helps to
explore the dynamics of social change. Finally, conflict might precede the transition between
centralized and decentralized, suggesting an intermediary transitional stage.
3.1. Introduction
The discussion on legitimacy in the production of art has been present at least since
Plato’s writings. As a matter of fact, the question whether an art work is appropriate in
relation to a given ethical, religious or philosophical authority has been the core of art studies.
From this perspective, the investigation on the development of artistic styles has been
traditionally coupled with theological or philosophical accounts.
Although Danto was not the first scholar to criticize this perspective, he was probably
one of the first contemporary philosophers to formalize the separation of philosophy and art
(DANTO, 1964). Danto establishes the idea of “Art World”, which encompasses artists,
critics, curators, gatekeepers and audience. In this article, Danto claims that only accepted
members of art worlds are entitled to establish aesthetical judgments on art pieces produced
by this community. Although members of an art world might appropriate philosophical
arguments in order to legitimize and rank art pieces, the production of art is not ultimately
subordinated to philosophical claims. In other words, it is the art world’s member’s
responsibility to establish the dichotomy between art and non-art8. For Danto, members in an
art world produce aesthetical judgments based on assertions grounded on theories of beauty.
These assertions are not necessarily arrayed in a coherent way. Moreover, states Danto, the
richness of an art world is given by the plurality of assertions that coexist.
8
Danto explores Duchamp’s art as examples of pieces that would be conventionally classified as mundane
objects. They are considered art pieces due to the reception and judgment of members in the XX century Art
World.
36
Becker (1982) argues that Danto inaugurated the possibility of institutional analysis of
artistic production. From this perspective, the evolution of styles would not be considered as
subsidiary to the societal development, but gains the status of an autonomous object for
scientific investigation. To be sure, art worlds are not insulated from society. Technological,
demographic, legal, political, economic and other factors do impact the evolution of art
worlds (PETERSON ; ANAND, 2004). However, art world members have to interpret and
enact exogenous impacts in order to take action (SCOTT, 2001). As a result, the response to
external stimuli is also affected by institutional constrains. Moreover, actors might interpret
these stimuli in different ways, which might produce conflicting views on the community’s
future perspectives.
The relative protection of artistic spheres from the other social spaces has been object
of study of classic sociology. Weber, for instance, claimed that the constitution of an
autonomous artistic sphere occurs in tandem with the process of rationalization and
modernization. The uncoupling of economic, religious and aesthetical values permits, from
Weber’s perspective, the emergence of autonomous spheres in a society. As a result, the
source of legitimacy for the artistic production is increasingly found inside artistic
communities (WEBER, 1995). Bourdieu (1993a,1993b) takes both Weber’s and Danto’s
intuition in order to elaborate his conception of artistic field. For Bourdieu, actors in a field
engage in a plurality of purposes. These purposes might be contradictory, which leads the
actors to clash with each other for legitimacy.
Frith (1996) identifies in Bourdieu’s writings three sources of legitimacy that
commonly clash inside an artistic field. First, art is considered as an intellectual production
and correlates with the expression of social distinction (BOURDIEU, 1984a). From this
perspective, art should be justified by critics who are usually linked to academic institutions
(GREENFELD, 1989). Conversely, the elites enact and support the legitimacy of academic
institutions in order to establish the boundaries between low and high-brow art forms
(DIMAGGIO, 1982). In music, the classical music is the best example of genre linked to the
intellectual source of legitimacy.
The second source of legitimacy is the consumption market. Sheer success in sales is
found to motivate many artists to follow fads and fashions. Although aiming at commercial
success is considered as deconsecrating the artistic sphere, several artists insist that their
purpose is not to attend to transcendental philosophical claims, but to entertain their
audiences. From this perspective, insists Frith, the live experience and relationship between
37
artist and audience justifies the commercial appeal. Country music is probably the best
example of genre grounded on the commercial source of legitimacy (PETERSON, 1997).
Finally, Frith identifies the folk roots as a source of legitimacy. Folk artists claim that
they produce pieces that follow a consolidated tradition. Attempts to include foreign elements
to this tradition are seen with suspicion. Also, commercial success is regarded as deleterious
to the continuity of folkloric heritage. Finally, Frith depicts folk art as belonging to the dayby-day habits of a community. As a consequence, the boundaries between audience and artist
are murky, as all individuals involved share the same cultural background. The Blues is one
example of genre close to folkloric roots.
Peterson (1997) believes that all styles are grounded in one or another source of
legitimacy. Although not all styles migrate across sources of legitimacy, Peterson (1972)
developed a model where Jazz would have crossed these three institutional boundaries along
its history. In its inception, in the dawn of the twentieth century, Jazz was closer to its
folkloric roots. As it achieved commercial appeal, it was transformed to entertain larger
audiences. Finally, its artists promoted the transformation of Jazz in a high art form, and
institutionalized it in academic courses. The evolution of Jazz from folk to high art form
should not be seen as a general law. On the contrary, Peterson takes pains in explaining that at
each stage several exogenous and endogenous factors led Jazz musicians to pursue this path.
He is explicit in arguing that if more advanced recording technology existed in the forties,
jazz might have never crossed the high art boundary.
Although Peterson is careful in avoiding a teleological account of Jazz evolution, his
description of a macro process tends to overshadow the inner conflicts within the Jazz field
along this path. Also, it may lead us to believe that once the jazz field crossed an institutional
boundary, all its members were converted to a new ethos. In contrast, I will show that the
evolution of the Jazz field is not explained by the substitution of legitimacy sources, but by
the increasing plurality of legitimacy sources. Once this is accepted, then the challenge is to
understand how the field evolved internally towards this stage and what new field logics
emerged in tandem with this plurality of styles.
3.2. An Institutional Account of Jazz Evolution
The history of an art field might be told from several perspectives. A musicologist
would choose those records that were landmarks in the evolution of a style. Such history
would depict how innovations like dissonant scale changes, atonal chords and instrumental
38
development were created and diffused in the field. Such effort would necessarily need the
support of musicologists and critics in order to codify several albums under these music
categories.
A historian of music would be interested in the macro societal trends that occurred in
tandem with and might have influences the evolution of a music. Such factors include the
technological changes, demographic and taste shifts, economic development or slowing down,
and the industrial organization of the phonographic and entertainment sectors. Although these
elements are crucial for understanding the macro surrounding of the development of a style,
they do not suffice for exogenous impacts are translated to fields through specific endogenous
mechanisms. Although my focus will be on the internal mechanisms, I will not overlook those
crucial societal changes, neither the more important musical innovations.
I want to pinpoint those processes that constituted the internal sources of legitimacy
and mechanisms in the functioning of the field. I argue that these processes interact to each
other and explain the emergence and evolution of styles in the field. These elements are: (1)
the emergence of a professional body of musicians, (2) formalization and rationalization of
Jazz, (3) the emergence of a professional body of critics, and (4) the consolidation of
academic institutions that supported directly or indirectly the education of jazz musicians.
3.2.1. Emergence of a Professional Body of Musicians
New Orleans is celebrated as the geographic place where Jazz was born (GIOIA,
1997; BERENDT ; HUESMANN, 1998; LOPES, 2002; GRIDLEY, 2003). It is there where
important African-American musicians like Louis Armstrong and Sidney Bechet started their
careers. Most musicians assembled around schools bands, temples and entertaining venues.
From this perspective, Jazz was present in several spheres of a musician’s life: at his
community and at his job place. The continuity of day-by-day life and professional
performance is typical of music styles linked to folk roots (FRITH, 1996).
Trained black musicians moved away from concert music (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 55).
In comparison to this body of African-American musicians, we observe an emergent group of
White musicians educated in conservatories. A high-brow/low brow relationship is
established, where the “formally educated” musicians are regarded as superior in artistry to
their self-educated counterparts. As Swing emerges in the thirties, white and conservatoryeducated musicians and black and self-educated musicians started to play together.
39
A young generation of white musicians like Benny Goodman, Bix Biederbeck, Bunny
Berigan, Frank Trumbauer, Artie Shaw, Red Nichols, Red Norvo, Tommy and Jimmy
Dorsey, were trained by sweet bands like Paul Whiteman, influenced by the original “hot”
New Orleans’s vernacular. As romantic or deviants, they clashed with black musicians who
struggled to establish a serious professional ethos (LOPES, 1997, p. 143).
The commercial success of Swing led several African-American musicians to join the
jazz market at large cities like New York and Chicago. An army of leaders and sidemen start
to interact in jam sessions, where they could exchange information, learn and get gigs. The
jam session served as a rank mechanism, where musicians disputed for status among their
peers. A musician’s rank was based mostly on his capacity of improvising (LOPES, 1997, p.
96). This contrasts sharply from the sweet band’s ethos (LOPES, 1997, p.147). Jam sessions
were also important to allow musicians to develop new styles and buffer them from
commercial pressures. Finally, musicians looked for sheer pleasure with their peers
(DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 30; LOPES, 1997, p. 151-153):
The practice of jamming – groups of musicians improvising
outside regular commercial jobs – represented the extent to which
this practice defined these musicians’ artistry (…) It was a
performance space in which musicians could articulate an ethos
independent of commercial popular performance conventions.
This separate cultural space as ritual became the locus for various
transformations in the ethos of professional musicians. The first
transformation, of course, was improvisation becoming the
defining skill of this professional class of musician. Eventually,
however, this autonomous cultural space was where professional
musicians developed the ethos of improvisational jazz as a distinct
‘art’ separate from commercial popular music. (LOPES, 1997, p.
153)
Following Parsons (1959), we observe an institutionalized way socializing new
members and dealing with competition. Musicians frequently played different songs and
styles at jam sessions and at Swing concerts. At the former venues, they played for
themselves. While at the later venues, they followed the band leader’s request. I suggest that a
mechanism similar to decoupling (MEYER ; ROWAN, 1991) occurred with this separation:
musicians ritualistically behaved in one way in front of a white middle class audience, while
behaved in another way at jam sessions. As Scott (2001) suggests, decoupling mechanisms
should not be understood as dichotomist phenomena, as if decoupling entailed in complete
buffering against external influences. On the contrary, Swing orchestra leaders frequently did
absorb innovations originated at jam sessions.
40
The Bop revolution (DEVEAUX, 1997) promoted the music played at the jam
sessions as the “real” Jazz, while Swing would be a commercial distortion. I believe that Bop
was a revolution not only in musical terms, but as an evidence of the affirmation of the body
of professional Jazz musicians as hegemonic in the field. As a result, whatever was produced
at jam sessions was now of interest of most jazz fans. To be sure, the jazz audience mingled,
as it turned more intellectualized. However, those who attended to Bop performances were
loyal to what they believed to be the true Jazz.
As the jam session mechanism became more tightly coupled with the commercial side
of the music industry, social attainment became closer to achieved rather than ascribed
features (PARSONS, 1959). The consequence was a crystallization of social hierarchies: a
musician’s career was linked to a ladder grounded in the jazz community. Moreover, the
higher the importance of this hierarchy, the higher was the centralization of musicians in the
field. In that sense, the Bop revolution helped to reinforce and strength the earlier hierarchical
ladders. Jam sessions phased away in the fifties for several reasons: emergence of real state
speculation in mid-Manhattan, watering of the disputes at jam session, and sheer ritualization
of the improvisation.
The rearticulation of musicians took place around associations during the sixties.
Many of these associations were responsible for training and launching many Free Jazz
musicians (GIOIA, 1997).
3.2.2. Formalization and Rationalization of Jazz
Weber (1995) describes how the Western music evolved from its folk roots to the
classical vernacular. Within this process, Weber sheds light on the process of rationalization
and formalization of music. The adoption of music sheets, the creation of standards and
rational division of notes occurred in tandem with the process of modernization in the
Western world. To be sure, this process was supported by different social groups. In medieval
times, monks were in the forefront in this process. During the eighteenth century, in contrast,
a professional body of musicians pushed this process forward, with the inception of tempered
scales (ISACOFF, 2003).
The formalization and rationalization in music supports the normative constitution of a
professional body. Those who are skilled in a particular set of rules are accepted by its
professional community. While the formalization is important in order to create and diffuse
common language and norms among musicians, the process of rationalization occurs in
41
tandem with the establishment of professional musicians as an autonomous source of
legitimacy. We may compare the Weberian account with Bourdieu’s description on how art
fields become autonomous (BOURDIEU, 2002). As art fields become autonomous, its
members will generate and share cultural capital, which becomes a distinctive feature of its
participants. Nevertheless, Bourdieu doesn’t expect this process to follow a linear path.
A similar process may be observed in Jazz, but its evolution follows an oscillating
movement between improvisation and formalization. In its origins, the New Orleans and
Classic Jazz had little formalization. Musicians used to improvise barely relied on any written
records. In contrast, the emergence of the white bands (either in New Orleans, Sweet Bands,
or Big Bands) was marked from its inception with the introduction of musical sheets. The
formalization of several Jazz elements helped its absorption in the emergent American Classic
music, exemplified in the work of George Gershwin, Rhapsody in Blue. The diffusion of
music sheets led many African American musicians to learn how to read and write them.
Ironically, during the thirties, when the Swing bands were in their apex, and AfricanAmerican bands played to white audiences, the former had to memorize music sheets, for
white audiences could not bear the idea that African-American musicians could read. In spite
of these contradictions, Duke Ellington is probably is considered one of the most important
composers of the Swing era (WILLIAMS, 1983).
Berliner (1994) describes the evolution of Jazz as a constant tension between the
freedom of improvisation and the boundaries imposed by the composition. When Charlie
Parker and Dizzy Gillespie started their experiments with Bop, a new wave of improvisation
took place in Jazz – mostly based on soloist improvisation. Although the improvisational
feature had regained a foothold in commercial venues, it didn’t take long until bebop started
to be codified in music sheets. As with Swing, the formalization of Bop helped to its
diffusion. By the late fifties, musicologists already observed exhaustion in the Bop paradigm.
Several pundits described many improvised solos as previously rehearsed and thus
unauthentic.
When Ornette Coleman introduced his version of Free Jazz style, one of the most
important features was the return to the collective improvisation that existed in the New
Orleans and Classic Jazz. It is not surprising, for that reason, that so many European
musicians took a leap from Trad Jazz (New Orleans and Classic Jazz) directly to Free Jazz –
the collective improvisation basis was a springboard in this transition.
42
3.2.3. Emergence of a professional body of critics
I suggest that the evolution of the body of critics in Jazz followed three stages: (a)
ideal consumer, (b) educator and (c) narrator on the Jazz evolution.
The first issues of Metronome and Down Beat, traditional jazz magazines, already
brought critical appraisals on Sweet and Swing bands. “Since the new jazz art world was to be
built on connoisseurship, jazz criticism as the domain of special connoisseurs was a regular
refrain among early jazz critics.” (LOPES, 178). Most of these accounts were concerned in
portraying the experience these critics had at the concert. As a consequence, the reader was
led to become identified with the critic as his representative (WHITE, 1993; CAVES, 2000).
Musicians were not always in agreement with the critics’ assessment of their work. Duke
Ellington’s complaints on how his work was analyzed became a historical landmark in the
Jazz field, for it called both for the legitimacy of a body of critics, but at the same time, the
formalization of criteria (LOPES, p.199).
In tandem with the increasing success of Swing, many fans and musicians grew
concerned with how new listeners were introduced to the field. Their fear was that many new
listeners would take the commercial side of Swing as the true Jazz. As a consequence, many
of these acknowledged fans became critics themselves, and took up the role of educators of
the masses of new listeners. The emergence of these body of critics led to what Gendron
(1995) called the first war in Jazz. One group of critics, in the early forties, defended that
“Swing” was harmful for “Jazz”, and the true jazz was that played in New Orleans style. In
contrast to standardized “riffs”9, widely used in Swing, these critics defended that musicians
should rely on collective improvisation. In contrast with European influences, they should
stress the African roots. A dialogue between critics and musicians was established (LOPES,
171), where critics at small magazines like “Record Changer” defended the return to the New
Orleans tradition, while critics at Metronome and Down Beat defended the modernist push of
Swing (LOPES, p. 201). Charged with the attack that Swing was too commercialist, the critics
at Down Beat and Metronome started to develop criteria to distinguish between “art” and
“commerce” in Swing. Duke Ellington would be in the former group, while Glenn Miller
would be in the latter.
9
"[A riff] is a short melodic ostinato, usually two or four bars long, which may either be repeated intact (strict
riff) or varied to accommodate an underlying harmonic pattern. The riff is thought to derive from the repetitive
call-and-response patterns of West African music, and appeared prominently in black-American music from the
earliest times." The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz.
43
Critics who supported Traditional Jazz triggered more profound studies on Jazz, which
spurred the quest to define Jazz’s boundaries. At the same time, they intended to impose
obstacles to inner development in Jazz. As bop players started to introduce new elements to
Jazz, these critics were mostly concerned in maintaining the traditional Jazz intact.
Intentionally or not, these critics defended the buffering of early Black culture from the
European (and white) culture, for only the protected black culture created genuine Jazz (i.e.
New Orleans Jazz, in contrast with the decadent bop, LOPES, 2002, p. 189). The end result
was a patronizing position towards Jazz musicians; yet paradoxically, it also represented leftwing intellectuals identified with New Deal policies and against commercialism (LOPES,
2002, p. 194). Nevertheless, the introduction of the discussion around “how should Jazz be
judged” opened the way for the introduction of Bop as a legitimate and modernist style.
Regardless of the conflict between jazz traditionalists and jazz
modernists, early jazz enthusiasts did create the foundations of a
jazz art world that made in many ways the modernist revolt
possible. Ironically, the high art appreciation promoted by jazz
enthusiasts for genuine jazz was easily co-opted by professional
musicians as they occupied the emerging art world. (LOPES,
2002, p. 216)
The clash between Bop (modernists) and New Orleans and Dixieland (traditionalists)
constituted the second war in jazz (GENDRON, 1995). The clash between traditionalists and
modernists was favorable to the latter. As Jazz faced a decline in late forties, with the decline
of big bands, critics in Down Beat and Metronome embraced the Bop trend as an alternative
to revitalize the Jazz world. As a consequence, the role of criticism was not anymore of the
priest, who sanctions deviations from the established tradition, but it was much closer to the
prophet, who saw in new talents the revelations of the Jazz to come:
The critic and musician are fellow acolytes of the first church of
jazz. (…) The magical mysteries of the universe and the teleology
of jazz are decoded by the keepers of the holy secrets of intuition.
(ELWORTH, 1995)10
10
It is striking that the Elworth compares critics to religious roles. Following a sociological approach, Greenfeld
(1989) analyzed the Israeli art market using Weber’s accounts on prophets and priests. The key distinction
proposed by Weber (1952) is between the legal and rational authority of the priest in contrast with the
charismatic authority of the prophet. While the priest would be institutionally linked to the temple, prophets were
seen as isolated individuals, and as such, had greater freedom to challenge the established institutions. Berger
(1963) revised this model and proposed that prophets were themselves linked to local sects; hence the distinctive
feature between prophet and priest is not on whether prophets were institutionally coupled, but to which
institutional sphere he was linked. Also, as a member of a sect, the prophet counted not only with his charisma,
but with reinterpretation of the Divine Law. As a consequence, the prophetic movement offered the elements of
alternative path of rationalization.
44
See for instance how the critic Martin Williams (1983) defends Ornette Coleman as at
the same time the heir of Charlie Parker and the initiator of a new avenue in Jazz. If critics are
entitled and expected to infer an evolutionary pattern from new talents and new albums, it is
unavoidable the clash among these multiple conceptions. During the sixties, Nat Hentoff and
Martin Williams confronted each other through the pages of Down Beat on whether Jazz
albums were to be judged on aesthetical values only, or whether political affiliation was an
important factor. Both had in mind quite different conceptions on how Jazz had and should
evolve. Conversely, if during the Bop era we observe an increasing collusion between critics
and musicians, when Jazz fragments in several styles and tendencies during the late fifties and
sixties, we observe an alignment of factions of critics and musicians (KOFSKY, 1971).
As we will see below, the emergence of academic institutions and courses was crucial
for housing and legitimating the jazz critics (LOPES, 2002, p. 264).
3.2.4. Consolidation of academic institutions in Jazz
In the early jazz, musicians learned one from each other its “chops” (required skills for
the job). Among these skills, we find ways of making a horn sound like human voice, chord
progressions and collective improvisations. The informal signals, standards and etiquette at
the stage are still today largely diffused in informal settings (BERLINER, 1994). From this
perspective, the academic institutions might seem irrelevant for the first Jazz musicians. As a
matter of fact, musicians like Duke Ellington even avoided the formal education in
conservatories. Because the racial segregation made slim the odds of African-American
musicians ascend to orchestras, these musicians looked at informal settings as more attractive
places for learning. In comparison, most white musicians went to conservatories to gain
formal musical education during the early Jazz and Swing era. As Lopes (2002) points out,
when Swing reaches a larger audience in the U.S., it is the feature of high education that gave
legitimacy to white leaders to conduct the most successful big bands.
This situation was almost unchanged until the inception of Bop. Several biographies
on Charlie Parker showed that he yearned for a formal education. The picture “Bird” on his
life shows the character standing out the house of Stravinsky, as he hoped for a contact with
the maestro. Around the same period, Miles Davis was already attending the Julliard School
in New York (SZWED, 2002). After few months he gave up his classes, favoring the jam
sessions and informal settings. At some point he claimed that he learned more with Charlie
45
Parker and Dizzy Gillespie rather than at Julliard’s classes. In spite of Miles’ disdain to his
Julliard background, his formal learning helped him to develop the Modal style he would
introduce to Jazz years later.
By the late forties, several white musicians who attended conservatories would blend
Bop elements with classic elements, generating the predecessors and the seeds of the Cool
style (GIOIA, 1992). In contrast, many African-American musicians, in opposition to a
“European” influence into Jazz looked for reintroducing the Blues and other African elements
in the music. This movement towards African elements was later known as Hard Bop, in
opposition to the “Coolness” of white, European influenced musicians (BERENDT ;
HUESMANN, 1998).
During the fifties several new Jazz schools were established, as well as high school
and college Jazz classes are introduced in order to educate new jazz musicians. It was also
during the late fifties and sixties that musicians create associations to develop new styles. This
effort towards formal institutionalization of Jazz (LOPES, 2002) resulted in the consecration
of Jazz as a high-brow art, and the placement of academic institutions as a substitute (or at
least complementary) to the earlier jam sessions11. In addition, the consolidation of academic
courses and research programs on Jazz is important to house critics in academic positions12.
3.3. A History of Jazz
Chart 1 depicts the evolution of Jazz sessions from 1930 to 196913. It confirms the
insights collected in secondary bibliography on Jazz history. From 1930 to 1934 we observe a
sharp decline in sessions, due to the Great Depression. This is a result of a sharp decline in the
overall phonographic industry, which saw its sales decreasing from $106 million in 1921 to $
5 million in 1933 (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 121). The decline in sales led to a wave of mergers
and acquisitions in the industry. As a result, Victor, Columbia and Decca emerged as the
survivals (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 121). Few recording companies controlled a hierarchical and
vertically concentrated industry: “The industry in the early 1930s moved towards a more
centralized organization in radio, recording, publishing, film and live performance, which
included a greater concentration in booking and management of musicians.” (LOPES, 2002,
11
Whoever visits nowadays Jazz classes at the New School in New York will observe that improvisation has
become a regular university discipline.
12
For instance, Dan Morgenstern, former jazz producer and editor of the magazine Down Beat today heads the
Jazz Institute at Rutgers.
13
See in the attachments the section “Jazz Recording Sessions Data”, for the description on the source and
methodology on recording session data.
46
p.100). The phonographic and entertainment industry became highly concentrated and tightly
controlled by few companies. This was expressed through a “tightly integrated networks of
production and dissemination of cultural content [which] matured by 1930 (DEVEAUX,
1997, p. 118). Because these companies favored styles with better commercial fit (like Sweet
Bands), we may conclude that the New Orleans and Classic Jazz styles suffered with the
Great Depression in the U.S. and with the contraction in the Music Industry.
The low wages during the depression allowed the assembling of large and hierarchical
big bands (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 117):
Life in the big bands was always difficult and never as glamorous
as the tuxedos, stage lights, and mirrored balls in the dance halls
would suggest. Bands were loosely strung together groups of men,
most of whom shared little more than music, and on long and
arduous trips their personal habits and problems, their differences
in ages and backgrounds, could make for chaotic life. The bands
were paternalistic at best, despotic at worst, and could make
demands on individuals that were brutally unrealistic. (SZWED,
2000, p. 56).
In 1935, the United States started to present signals of recovery. This recovery is
expressed on the increase in recording sessions, which coincided with the increase in the Big
Band and Swing popularity. Benny Goodman’s famous concert in the Carnegie Hall marked
the dawn of Swing’s golden age, as the most popular style in the U.S. Lines of teenagers
packed the streets of New York City and Chicago in order to have the opportunity to dance
with their friends14. The introduction of the Juke Box in the late 1930s helped to revive the
recording industry (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 126).
14
As Swing penetrated the recording industry, it was possible the emergence of soloist improvisers who would
be precursors to Bop (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 11)
47
3000
2500
2000
1500
1000
500
19
68
19
66
19
64
19
62
19
60
19
58
19
56
19
54
19
52
19
50
19
48
19
46
19
44
19
42
19
40
19
38
19
36
19
34
19
32
19
30
0
Chart 3.1: Evolution of Sessions
Source: Summary of data extracted from Jazz Discography
The whole organizational field was marked by a strong centralization. There were few
intermediary agents (William Morris Agency, Music Corporation of America (MCA),
General Amusements Corporation) who played the broker role in the distribution of content
(DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 122; Lopes, 1997, p. 101). White managers booked black musicians
engagements, which led to the emergence of white gatekeepers (Lopes, 1997, p. 113-114).
The forties experienced two important drawbacks in recording session volume. In
1942, just before U.S.’s joined the World War II, musicians went on strike against recording
companies. The ban on recording started on August 1st, 1942 (DEVEAUX, 1997, p.7)15.
James Petrillo, president of the American Federation of Musicians (AFM) was leading the
ban. The American Guild of Musical Artists and the Boston Orchestra followed Petrillo’s
leadership. The motivation for the strike was the fear that recordings would eventually
substitute live performances. As a consequence, the struggle was not for control of recordings,
but for a fixed fee from every sale (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 295).
The ban led to the creation of several small independent record companies who
complied with the musicians’ requirements (DEVEAUX, 1999, p. 30). Small labels (although
more flexible and willing to decrease margins) could not take musicians bound by contractual
obligations with larger labels. Hence, they looked for new niches (gospel, R&B, etc.)
15
Another ban against the recording companies was called in 1948.
48
(DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 303). One of the unexplored niches was the small-combo jazz. Labels
that followed this lead included Commodore, Blue Note, Signature, Keynote and Savoy.
When the big companies finally folded under the musicians’ pressure16, they followed the
small companies in recording small combo jazz (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 297).
During the war, recording companies faced important obstacles to produce and
distribute records. First, the material used in the records was imported from Eastern Asia,
which was under Japan’s control. The war in the Pacific Ocean threatened the supply of
shellac, an important ingredient of 78 rpm records (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 297); hence,
recording companies stopped channeling investments to slow selling and low margin LPs in
the Jazz genre. (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 297)
Second, fuel and train usage was channeled to war efforts, which made distribution
costly. As a result, the U.S. government imposed harsh restrictions on ‘nonessential’ driving,
from January 1943 until September 1944. This restriction impacted black bands, for they were
more dependent on road for income (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 244)17. As traveling went down,
the Jazz world became increasingly concentrated in the 52nd street in New York City, where
the majority of black combos played (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 285)18.
The post-war was a watershed for the Jazz history. The original Swing fans were
growing older, and less prone to attend all-night concerts. In parallel, the black youth was
shifting to Rhythm-and-Blues (closer to African roots and more accessible to the black
workers). Also, the post-war recession helped to depress the music industry. These effects
combined led to a fast decline among Swing bands (LOPES, 2002, p. 217) and the choosing
of Bop as the scapegoat for the relative decline of Jazz in comparison with other genres
(SZWED, 2000, p. 86).
Swing faced a sharp decline after the war for reasons related with the field’s dynamics.
First, several Swing musicians were drafted during the war (DEVEAUX, 1997, p.7). Second,
the increased competition among new big bands forced prices down (DEVEAUX, 1997, p.
143). Third, because the quantity of talent was constant, musicians didn’t have many
constraints in staying at a single band. As a consequence, recognized talent created their own
bands, diluting talent and increasing competition (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 144). Fourth, as
16
Decca folded in September 1943, Columbia and Victor folded in 1944.
Since white bands had better access to venues, black bands were forced to travel, in order to find gigs. These
trips could include incursions into the U.S. “deep south”.
18
The emergence of the 52nd street as a Jazz hub is due to the availability of venues. As Prohibition ceased to
rule, Jazz was no longer constrained to underground venues (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 126). Also, in the Spring of
1944 the cabaret tax increased to 30% on venues that promoted public performance. But this tax was not
applicable to instrumental music, like Jazz, which led to the flourishing of 52nd street.
17
49
venues were crowed by white Swing bands in the large urban centers in the north, Black
musicians had to go to Southern states for available audiences. But discrimination was even
stronger there, what made such traveling unattractive (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 150). As a
consequence, the several dissolutions of black bands led to the over supply of well qualified
musicians, that migrated to the small combo format.
The early fifties staged a fast recovery in the U.S., which may be observed in the
increasing figures in recording sessions. This increase should be qualified for two reasons.
First, due to the shift from 78 rpm to 331/3 rpm technology, more songs could be compiled in
a single album, and the cost of minutes per album decreased. As a consequence, recording
sessions were longer, in order to record more songs. It was not unusual to consume several
days in order to fill up an album. Second, Jazz increased less than other genres, like R&B. As
a result, while the overall music industry volume increased, Jazz was not able to retain its
share. Nonetheless, the apex in the late fifties also coincides with the period when some of the
best known Jazz albums were released: Miles Davis’s “Kind of Blue”, Charles Mingus’s
“Mingus Ah Um”, Dave Brubeck’s “Time Out”, Ornette Coleman’s “The Shape of Jazz to
Come” and John Coltrane’s “Giant Steps” (BARBER, 2004). Szwed (2002, p. 127) and Lopes
(2002) interpret that the surge in quality was an indirect effect of the overall recovery in the
phonographic industry.
The late fifties and during the sixties the Jazz community observed a steady decline in
absolute volume of work, upon the surge of Rock-n-Roll (PETERSON, 1990) and the
strengthening of R&B. A recover in the late sixties is probably due to external influences like
Bossa Nova and the Rock-n-Roll fusion.
Chart 2 depicts the evolution of the leader population in my sample. It contrasts with
the evolution of recording sessions in two significant ways. First, from 1930 to the late fifties
we generally observe a steady increase in the total number of active leaders, which expresses
an increase in total resources available for this population. Second, the decline in number of
sessions in the early sixties is much sharper than the decline in number of leaders, which
shows a declining rate of sessions per leader. In other words, leaders were willing to stay in
the industry, even at lower average work volume.
50
700
600
500
400
300
200
100
66
64
62
60
68
19
19
19
19
56
54
58
19
19
19
50
48
46
44
42
40
38
36
34
52
19
19
19
19
19
19
19
19
19
19
19
30
19
19
32
0
Chart 3.2: Evolution of Active Leaders
Source: Summary of data extracted from Jazz Dischography
3.3.1. The Styles of Jazz
The AMG’s classification of albums includes 63 different styles in the Jazz genre.
These styles are grouped in “style families”: New Orleans and Classic Jazz, Swing and Big
Band, Bop, Cool, Hard Bop, Soul, Fusion, Free Jazz and Latin/World. I use these families of
Jazz styles along this chapter, for I believe they borrow legitimacy from distinct sources.
3.3.1.1. New Orleans/Classic Jazz:
The “New Orleans/Classic Jazz” comprises in Chart 3 the styles “Hot Jazz”, “New
Orleans/Dixieland” and “Revival, Trad.”. It is mostly associated with the roots of Jazz and for
many it was considered the true Jazz (PANASSIE, 1973).
As many accounts of the history of Jazz go, Jazz was originated in New Orleans in the
beginning of the twentieth century. As the African-descendent masses of laborers started to
immigrate to the northern industrial cities, the style was spread across the country. Important
names like Louis Armstrong, King Oliver were associated with “hot jazz” in the twenties and
thirties.
51
1920
1930
1940
1950
1960
1970
FOLK
Hot Jazz
Revival, Trad
New Orleans/
Dixieland
Swing,
Big Band
POP
Progressive
Big-Band
AfroCuban
Bop
FINE ART
Cool, West
Coast
Hard Bop,
Post-bop
Third
Stream
Easy Listening
Fusion
AvantGarde, Free
Jazz
Adapted from Peterson (1972)
Chart 3.3: Jazz Styles’ Time Line
Several contemporary scholars show that this style was considered low-brow for
several reasons (LOPES, 2002; APPELROUTH, 2003). It resembled African music for its
“call-and-response” dynamics, didn’t follow the Western canon of notes, included
improvisation and imitated the human voice (APPELROUTH, 2003, p. 119). With the
inception of Swing, a way of blending earlier Jazz elements with orchestral features, New
Orleans and Classic Jazz was overshadowed by its successful cousin. For years, the word
“Jazz” was replaced by the word “Swing”. In contrast with the Europe-oriented Swing, “hot”
Jazz was stereotyped as black (and hence libidinal) music, generating a monopoly for black
musicians on New Orleans and Classic Jazz (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 125).
A strong reaction came in the forties, as Jazz collectors looked for the original roots of
Jazz in order to resist the commercial trends in Swing. Lopes (1997, p. 160) depicts them as
“self-proclaimed” Jazz experts whose mission was to educate the audience. This education
could encompass a dismissal of musicians’ desires and ethos. Hugues Panassié, for instance,
claimed that jazz had to be protected from the phonographic industry’s commercialism.
52
DeVeaux (1991) labels such position as “primitivism”, for it aims at keeping the community
of Jazz musicians apart from any musical change.
This group also saw in the emergence of Bop in the forties a threat to their conception
of real Jazz19. From their perspective, Bop represented just another attempt to turn Jazz in
merchandise. Although Williams (1983) doesn’t draw a sharp boundary between these styles,
Peterson (1972) associates this family with the folk roots of Jazz.
If in its beginning mostly African-American musicians played this style, later White
and non-American musicians adopted, diffused and transformed this vernacular.
3.3.1.2. Swing/Big Band
Early versions of Swing existed at least since 1916 (LOPES, 1997, p. 108). It became
hegemonic during the thirties, as a synthesis of sweet music and hot jazz.
As pointed above, Swing combined both orchestral and original Jazz elements, making
extensive use of big bands. However, we should make a distinction between Swing and its
predecessor, the Sweet bands. Sweet bands were also constituted by large sets of musicians,
and might incorporate some Jazz elements. One famous example was Paul Whitman’s band.
Ironically, he was called the “King of Jazz”, while in reality his music contained very little
Jazz. Nonetheless, it was Paul Whitman who ordered from George Gershwin the piece
“Rhapsody in Blue”, in 1923.
Some of Whitman’s sidemen were able to incorporate some “hot” elements from the
original Jazz in their music. Among them, Benny Goodman was one of the most famous and
popularized Swing among teenagers in 1935. Besides its undisputable commercial success, it
brought together black and white musicians, blurring the established “racial” boundaries. One
of the reasons for this integration was the white musicians’ sheer lack of repertoire. For
instance, Benny Goodman was one of the first white musicians who played with black
musicians (LOPES, 1997, p. 123).
3.3.1.3. Bop
Bop was born in the jam sessions at the Harlem. In contrast with Swing’s riffs, Bop
playing was unpredictable (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 425).
19
Louis Armstrong was believed to scorn Bop (PORTER, 2002).
53
The new bop melodies were more angular than pop songs and
older jazz tunes, and the intervals between notes were wider. (…)
[B]op melodic phrases were longer and less repetitious, but at the
same time unevenly structured and irregularly placed. (SZWED,
2000, p. 35).
It is filled with drum accents, erratic “bombs” (SZWED, 2000, p. 36). DeVeaux
(1997) considers Bop as a major revolutionary watershed in the history of Jazz. If before bop
Jazz was strongly associated with folk roots or commercial appropriation, Bop opened the
way for an intellectual appropriation of the Jazz idiom.
Szwed (2000) and DeVeaux (1997) point that Bop was not born out of nothing. The
discontinuity and ambiguity in chord progression was already applied, in a lesser scale, by
Lester Young (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 113). It was actually a creative blending of elements
already present in the playing of the following precursors: Roy Eldridge (trumpet), Charlie
Christian (electric guitar), Art Tatum (piano), Jimmy Blanton (bass), Lester Young (tenor sax)
(SZWED, 2000), Coleman Hawkins (DEVEAUX, 1997).
DeVeaux (1997) goes beyond the musical elements in Bop. For this researcher,
precursors like Coleman Hawkins introduced the ethos of the Jazz musician as a professional
musician. This ethos favored the development of Bop as closer to an art form, rather than
another fad. Bop musicians, like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, pushed the borders in
terms of musical sophistication, while recovering elements from “hot jazz”. The dissonances
and scale changes introduced in Bop made it increasingly harder to dance and less attractive
for the large audience20. Conversely, several Bop musicians developed hostility towards the
dancing audience (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 24)21.
In contrast, musicians like Dizzy Gillespie attempted to combine bop and big band
elements, in order to gain legitimacy with a commercial side of industry (DEVEAUX, 1997,
p. 338)22. Although attempts to keep Bop closer to the commercial side of Jazz existed, as a
sub-style of swing, it was doomed to fail. Benny Goodman didn’t acknowledge it as late as
1949.
This ambiguous position was hardly sustainable. At some point, Bop musicians gave
up promoting Bop as a dancing style. It eventually became appreciated by smaller groups of
20
Several established Swing musicians (among them, Louis Armstrong, Fletcher Henderson, Tommy Dorsey)
reacted negatively towards Bop. Many argued that Bop destroyed the possibility of dancing with “weird” chord
progression, hurting jazz in general (LOPES, 1997, p. 222).
21
Bop’s image’s association with drugs, spurred by the mass media, reinforced this reciprocal estrangement.
Gillespie was among those who struggle to disentangle Bop from drugs (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 398).
22
This gives us an idea of Swing institution’s robustness, for Gillespie tried to combine bop and swing for a long
period (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 439).
54
fans, who attended small clubs, instead of dance halls and carved a niche in the periphery of
the industry in 1945 (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 364).
While at jam sessions Bop’s harmonic obstacles served as a strategy for winning
cutting sessions, in recording sessions it became codified (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 311), which
allowed the diffusion and institutionalization of the new style23.
And still, in its pure form it was short-lived, as many small clubs disappeared with the
real-estate speculation of the mid-fifties (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 442)24.
3.3.1.4. Cool
The style “cool” is regarded as a natural development from Bop. It is closer to
contemporary classical music. Miles Davis is known as one of the first musicians to play in
this idiom, when he recorded the album The Birth of the Cool in 194925. Yet, many scholars
consider cool mostly associated with White musicians. First, the incorporation of classical
music elements took the idiom away from its African blues roots26. Second, it spread rapidly
among White musicians who attended classic music conservatories. The very word “cool” is
controversial among Jazz scholars. Among some, cool is related to “intellectual”, but also
“European”, in contrast with “hot”, found in Hot Jazz a later in Bop. In contrast, many
scholars see in the word “cool” a link with the African’s value of proud and self-possession
(SZWED, 2000, p. 199).
A derivative of cool is the “West Coast Jazz”, played by musicians based in the West
Coast. Many critics, however, do not consider West Coast as a distinct style.
3.3.1.5. Hard Bop
Hard Bop emerged in the fifties, mostly as a reaction from African-American
musicians to the presence of white musicians in the recording industry with Cool (LOPES,
1997, p. 252, SZWED, 2000, p. 253). As Cool became strongly associated with European
23
One may relate the formalization effort to the social construction of reality (BERGER; LUCKMANN, 1966).
As Bop became more formalized, it became also more objectified. The neo-institutionalist tradition links the
formalization and codification to the diffusion of social forms in a field (see for instance, LOUNSBURY; RAO,
2004). Bourdieu (1990 – coisas ditas), suggests that the codification and formalization are the final outcomes of
the process of fixing forms to phenomena previously not classified. Bourdieu proposes that classificatory
systems are stable because they gain a status of “natural” to social actors. Bourdieu suggests that one of the most
important tasks for the analyst is to describe the “naturalization” of classificatory and code systems.
24
Becker (2002) suggests that a sociology of places should complement a sociology of social actors. He shows
that the Jazz styles evolved in tandem with the different types of venues available to musicians.
25
As Bop became less accessible to the large white audience, Miles perceived that some changes in the music
were required. These changes led to Cool (SZWED, 2002, p. 70)
26
Szwed (2002) suggests that it recovers certain sweet elements from Swing developed by Lester Young.
55
elements and White musicians, many African-American musicians turned to African and
Blues elements in order to express their ethnic identity:
Stronger, more interactive drumming, funky and soulful melodies,
and a reassertion of the primacy of the blues. It is a music that
rejected the reserve of cool jazz and reclaimed the principles of
bebop in a more recognizable and accessible African American
form. (SZWED, 2000, p. 114).
Thus, their playing contrasted with the “coolness” and “softness” of Cool. As a
consequence, they adopted the adjective “hard” in order to contrast their playing to Cool.
Some scholars believe that Hard Bop is nowadays the mainstream idiom in Jazz. In
comparison to Bop, it softened the musical sophistication and made the music more accessible
to the black audience lost to R&B. Also, many claim that Hard Bop is more assertive in
incorporating blues elements. Yet, some scholars find it difficult to define exactly what is the
“blackness” feature in the Hard Bop playing. Berendt and Huesmann (1998) find that this
distinction is arbitrary and is mostly used to distinguish African-American from White
musicians.
Moreover, several scholars suggest that African-American musicians promoted the
label Hard Bop in order to segregate white musicians and revert the “Jim Crow” relationship
(DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 18; LOPES, 1997, p. 254): “Some white critics, especially Nat Hentoff
and Leonard Feather, did point to how the experience of Jim Crow created Crow Jim.”
(LOPES, 1997, p. 255)
One way or another, hard bop was also very associated with the Civil Rights
movement in the fifties and sixties. Max Roach was among the most politicized side of hard
bop (SZWED, 2000, p. 230).
3.3.1.6. Soul
If Hard Bop attempted to recover African roots and conquer a black youth lost to
R&B, Soul went in a bolder towards this direction. Musicians like Julan Adderley and Brother
Jack McDuff included soul and funk elements in Jazz, towards a fusion with these genres To
be sure, it is not just a development from Hard Bop (SZWED, 2000). The further detachment
from the Bop paradigm was not well received by all Hard Bop musicians (GIOIA, 1997).
56
3.3.1.7. Free Jazz and Avant-Gard
Retrospectively, scholars have found elements of Free jazz in early pieces as in Lennie
Tristano’s in the forties and fifties. But it was only in the late fifties with Ornette Coleman’s
recordings that the Free Style emerged as a distinct idiom.
The free jazz broke with several standards consolidated in jazz since the inception of
Bop. Paradoxically, its defenders were both accused of disrupting the Jazz tradition (LOPES,
1997, p. 264), and at the same time, they were celebrated for resuming the revolutionary
efforts initiated by Charlie Parker (WILLIAMS, 1983). Besides Ornette Coleman, John
Coltrane, Charles Mingus were among the most influent musicians in this style (JOST, 1994).
Most of the resistance against Free Jazz came from mainstream musicians, who claimed that it
“was not based on harmonic progression, it did not rely on modes or scales, it was not
tempered in pitch, and it did not always follow a strict rhythm” (RADANO, 1985, p. 72).
In comparison to other styles, the Free Jazz was well received by critics (RADANO,
1985). The intellectual interpretation of its evolution, and the effort to associate it to the
classic music avant garde movement made Free jazz strongly associated with high art form.
Ironically, however, “avant-garde musicians were unconcerned” with the criticism’s support
(RADANO, 1985, p. 74). In contrast, free jazz musicians disdained the criticism as another
attempt to freeze the Jazz musicians’ creativity in a new label. Yet, it was not as popular as
other styles:
While a more accessible version of avant-garde jazz would later
reach the popular ear, it was, and still is in its ‘purest’ form,
inaccessible to the masses. Musical norms operate like all other
social norms – they change slowly. And the acceptance of the
abstract music of jazz avant-garde could not be forced; only
gradually could it reach popular tastes. (RADANO, 1985, p.77).
3.3.1.8. Fusion
It is not impossible to find the word “fusion” applied to any blend of Jazz and foreign
idioms27. Nevertheless, this style has been usually associated with the blend of Jazz and Rockn-Roll.
A word of caution should be made here. It is true that Rock was usually associated
with pop and commercial vernacular, especially by actors within the Jazz field:
27
From this perspective, albums like “Sketches of Spain”, by Miles Davis, would be considered fusion. Blends
with other styles, but Rock, were classified under the “Latin and World Fusion” category.
57
From their position on the fringes of the commercial music world,
jazz musicians had always assuaged themselves with the belief
that they were superior musicians, that they had chosen the more
difficult road with their art. (…) As they watched the current
boom in pop music, many harbored the faith that if they wanted to,
they too could sell out and make best-selling pop albums. Yet the
truth is that they seldom had anything to sell a pop market and no
idea about how to make a pop record, and when they were offered
the chance, the results were often comic or dreadful. (SZWED,
2000, p. 283).
However, Rock itself was dramatically transformed during the fifties and sixties. Also,
many of the Jazz elements blended were borrowed from Free Jazz. For that reason, Williams
(1983) considers that Davis actually attempted to cross two boundaries at once. First, Jazz’s
internal boundaries, by embracing free jazz elements, and second, Jazz external boundaries,
by blending it with Rock and introducing electronic instruments.
3.3.1.9. Latin and World Fusion
As the Bop and its offspring achieved maturity by mid-fifties, Jazz musicians
increasingly incorporated elements external to Jazz into their music. These elements ranged
from Indian music (John Coltrane’s “My Favorite Things”, in the album “My Favorite
Things”, released in 1960) to Brazilian Bossa Nova (see Stan Getz, “Desafinado”, 1962).
Chart 4 depicts the evolution of styles, associated with recording sessions.
100%
Soul
90%
New Orleans and Classic
Jazz
80%
70%
Latin
Hard Bop
Bop
60%
Cool
50%
Fusion
40%
Free
30%
Swing and Big Band
20%
10%
0%
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
Chart 3.4: Evolution of Sessions per Style Family
58
Source: Author’s analysis
Note: vertical axis depicts total number of sessions. Leaders classified under multiple styles had their sessions
split proportionally. Horizontal axis depicts periods.
Following, I collected from the secondary bibliography reviewed some of the most
important albums that established new styles and innovations. This list will help me to locate
in the social network those musicians who introduced novelties in the Jazz field.
Style
Musician or Band
New Orleans/Classic Jazz • ODBJ
(and Revival)
• King Oliver
•
Swing/Big Band
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
Bop
Cool (and West Coast)
•
•
•
•
•
Multiple
1959
Hard Bop
Revolution
•
in •
•
•
•
•
•
•
Record or Song (Year)
• “I’ve lost my heart in
Dixieland” (1920)
• “Dippermouth Blues”
(1923)
• “West
End
Blues”
Louis Armstrong
(1928); “Satchmo at
Symphony Hall” (1947)
• “Copenhagen” (1924)
Fletcher Henderson
• “Carnegie Hall Concert”
Benny Goodman
(1938)
• “White Jazz” (1931)
Casa Loma
• “Cotton Tail” (1940)
Duke Ellington
• “Jumpin'
at
the
Count Basie
Woodside” (1937)
• “1937-1938” (1938)
Louis Armstrong
• “Koko” (1945)
Charlie Parker
• “Cubano
Be/Cubano
Dizzy Gillespie
Bop” (1947)
• “Un Poco Loco” (1951)
Bud Powell
• “Misterioso” (1948)
Thelonious Monk (p)
• “Birth of the Cool”
Miles Davis (t)
(1949)
Stan
Getz,
Kenny • “People Time” (194X)
Barron
Modern Jazz Quarter • “Django” (1954)
(MJQ)
• “Bernie’s Tune” (1952)
Gerry Mulligan
• “Giant Steps”
John Coltrane
• “Kind of Blue”
Miles Davis
• “Time Out”
Dave Brubeck
• “Mingus Ah Hum”
Charles Mingus
• “The Shape of Jazz to
Come”
Ornette Coleman
Clifford Brown, Max • “Daahoud” (1954)
Roach Quintet
Art Blakey
• “Hard Bop” (1957)
59
•
•
Soul
•
•
•
Free Jazz
Gard
and
(Rock) Fusion
Avant- •
•
•
Horace Silver
•
Julian
“Cannonball” •
Adderley
Brother Jack McDuff
•
Richard
"Groove" •
Holmes
•
Stanley Turrentine
Cecil Taylor
Ornette Coleman
Albert Ayler
•
•
•
•
•
“Senor Blues” (1956)
“Mercy, Mercy, Mercy”
(1966)
“Brother Jack McDuff
Live!” (1963)
“Blue Groove” (1966)
“That's Where It's At”
(1962)
“Unit Structures” (1966)
“Free Jazz” (1960)
“Spiritual Unity” (1964)
“Ascension”
“Jazz in Silhouette”
(1958)
•
•
John Coltrane
Sun Ra
•
•
Archie Schepp
Miles Davis
•
•
“Four for Trane” (1964)
“Bitches Brew” (1969)
Stan Getz
Stan Getz/João Gilberto
•
•
“Desafinado” (1962)
“Getz/Gilberto” (1964)
Latin and World Fusion – •
Bossa Nova
•
Frame 3.1: Major Art Works by Style and Musician
Sources: Gioia (1997), Szwed (2000), AllMusic.com.
3.4. Theoretical Development: Field, Institutional Change, and Circulation of Elites
A central concern for this investigation is the understanding of how groups attain
better positions in their social milieu in tandem with the creation or transformation of
institutions. This concern touches on two theoretical bodies: on one hand, a theory of fields,
institutionalization processes, and institutional change and on another the theories on how
elites attain their prominent position. This effort requires the creation of hypotheses that
bridge these two theoretical bodies.
Fields are understood in the neo-institutional traditional as those social spaces where
the involved actors share standards, norms and meanings (DIMAGGIO ; POWELL, 1983). It
is also a locus for struggle, where the involved actors fight for resources and symbolic
hegemony (BOURDIEU, 1993b). Several scholars on field developed the idea that fields
differ in internal institutional logics, structure and relative autonomy to other fields.
Following, I propose two ideal types for fields: “centralized” and “decentralized”.
60
3.4.1. Centralized Fields
A centralized field resembles the “normative” field proposed by Anand (2000), and
Peterson and Anand (2002)28. Institutionally, centralized fields are organized mainly under
macro-coercive or normative rules. In the former case, a heteronymous power imposes
common practices. In the latter case, a cohesive professional body enacts common norms.
Structurally29, a centralized field presents a distinctive core (a set of central actors that
hold central positions in the social network) that dominates its periphery by controlling the
majority of resources. Its structure resembles a “star”, as a consequence, the central player
will have a disproportionate betweenness centrality:
F
G
E
A
B
D
C
“Star” structure
Schema 3.1: Star Structure
Source: Author’s adaptation of Kadushin (2004a)
The central actors control the field’s schemata. Thus, it is not surprisingly that the
introduction of innovations is usually top-down, held by central entrepreneurs, whose
position is relatively buffered from market pressures. By this account, a classical example of a
normative field is given by DiMaggio’s research on U.S. art museums (1991), where a
handful of central player’s action modified the field’s logic. Nonetheless, it doesn’t mean that
innovations are not created at the periphery. In centralized fields, innovations from the
periphery are gradually absorbed into the core, as incumbent actors are able to incorporate
them while avoiding threatens to their position. This behavior is also supported by
Schumpeter’s (1934) studies on innovation. For him, only oligopolies would be able to
accumulate enough resources in order to introduce innovations.
28
I don’t the term “normative”, for any field, by definition, entails a diffusion of norms and practices.
Here “structure” refers to the social network configuration. It is not directly related to Giddens’s concept of
structure. See “Glossário” for a full discussion on the term.
29
61
As Faulkner (1983) shows, central players tend to be at the same time actors who have
a long track record, and concentrate most opportunities in the field. Bourdieu’s reading on
incumbent players goes along the same lines. Players who are “old” in the field tend to
become more dominant and concentrate most market share in an industry (BOURDIEU,
1993b, 2005).
Norms will be stable as long as not perturbed by a sudden change in the market’s
logics or a break in the organizational core coalition (MARCH, 1962). As long as the central
coalition of power is stable (FLIGSTEIN, 2001), the field institutions should be stable. In
tandem, in an oligopoly, we expect higher homogeneity of art forms, due to a high coercive
dominance of core over peripheral players (PETERSON ; BERGER, 1975). In our example,
this should be reflected in stability of musical styles and tastes. Hence, in centralized fields,
we should find high homogeneity and stability of styles.
3.4.2. Decentralized Fields
Decentralized fields are similar to Peterson and Anand’s “competitive fields”. They
are much less autonomous in relation to market trends. Competitive forces mark a balance
between innovation and imitation; as a consequence, they are marked by the predominance of
mimetic isomorphism.
Structurally, the field is still articulated by a core, but a more differentiated periphery
emerges. Kadushin (1976) suggests that networks in “circle” shape occur in tandem with the
introduction of innovations in a field. He offers the example of avant-garde painters in the
apex of their creativity: instead of being organized under a hierarchy, they form circles of
innovators. Although one has little power to impose its dominance over others, reputation and
status are central in order to gain access to resources and opportunities (JONES, 2002;
PODOLNY, 2001). The association with prominent players provides legitimacy to those
associated with them. Hence, novice players will be driven to develop joint projects with
already established players in the field. As a consequence, a core will emerge around those
more prominent players, even in the absence of formal sanctioning rules. The proposed
“decentralized structure” takes a mid-ground between the “star” structure and the “circle”
structure. A core is still recognizable, but the periphery is connected as if in a circle30:
30
Future analysis could compare the “star” structure with the “small world” structure (WATTS, 1999). In
comparison with the former, the later requires unconnected “pockets” of cohesive groups in the periphery. In
comparison with the “decentralized structure proposed”, it might provide a better explanation for differentiated
spaces in the field (UZZI ; SPIRO, 2005).
62
F
F
E
G
D
A
B
E
G
C
“Circle” structure
Core
A
B
D
C
“Decentralized” structure
Schema 3.2: Circle and Decentralized Forms
Source: author’s adaptation of Kadushin (2004a)
This structure occurs in tandem with the emergence of higher agency discretion for
bottom-up innovations31. Leblibici, Salancick, Copay and Kinget (1991) provide the
example of the transformation of the radio broadcasting industry in the U.S, showing that
most innovations were introduced by peripheral actors. Powell suggests that “In the absence
of incentives embedded in existing institutional arrangements, innovation and diversity will
be more likely to come from the periphery of organizational fields or from outside sources”
(POWELL, 1991, p. 198).
Bourdieu’s (1993b, 2002) analyses on art fields show that younger and less powerful
actors introduce avant-garde styles. As these styles become consecrated, the artists who
introduced them become themselves incumbent actors in the field. A Paretian account of
“elite circulation” (PARETO, 1935) would expect that older incumbent artists be expelled by
younger and up-coming artists. In contrast, old and new styles co-exist (SIMMEL, 2004). For
that reason, old and new generations of elite co-exist in the field. Because decentralized fields
tend to promote innovations in a faster way, we should expect that newer artists will achieve
success (market share in number of sessions) faster. If that is true, it follows that age in the
field and market share might not coincide: older artists might present lower success than
their younger competitors.
As suggested above, the higher periphery differentiation and the co-existence of
several generations might lead to a higher heterogeneity of styles. As a result, decentralized
fields present a “fragmented” picture of styles. Also, in a decentralized field, struggle for
31
One must be careful when linking a social network structure with its actors’ underlying dispositions. Swedberg
(2005) shows that a univocal association between these two categories was exactly what Weber harshly
criticized in Simmel’s work. For Weber, sociology could not be wholly developed only on the study of social
network structures. A similar criticism might be found at DiMaggio’s (1993) criticism on research based only o
social network analysis.
63
survival is fiercer for all players. Products have shorter span of life and competitors gain and
loose field’s dominance more quickly. Christensen, Verlinden and Westerman’s (2002)
example of the hard-disk industry is illustrative of this point. Innovations were hardly
introduced by incumbent firms, but by peripheral players. In addition, as the technology of
hard disks evolved, the average time length of a company’s leadership became increasingly
shorter. In other words, although novice players revolve around older players, the former
efforts to displace the latter are more frequent and more successful than in centralized fields.
Hence, styles will remain less time in a dominant position, given the higher motility of its
musicians and faster desinstitutionalization. In other words, there will be lower stability of
styles. Please find on Schema 1 a summary of features in Centralized and Decentralized
fields.
Features
Centralized
Decentralized
Sources of isomorphism
Coercitive and normative
Mimetic
Social Network Structure
“Star”
“Decentralized Structure”
Source of Innovations
Central actors, “top-down”
Peripheral actors, “bottomup”
Old actors concentrate most Young actors might achieve
Dominance
market share
Styles
High
homogeneity
stability of styles
high market share
and High heterogeneity and low
stability of styles
Frame 3.2: Centralized and Decentralized Fields
Source: Author’s proposal
3.4.3. Control Variables
Many studies on Jazz consulted approached the theme of “race” (some of the most
important references include JONES, 1964, KOFSKY, 1971, DEVEAUX, 1997). In most of
these studies, African-American musicians are depicted as segregated from the American
society. At the same time, their innovations are believed to have been absorbed by white
musicians, better positioned at the music industry.
The theme of race is a very controversial one. As far as I know, nobody would defend
that human beings are inherently different, as if a genetic analysis would provide us a
palpable distinction between races. However, we should identify two opposing positions. A
64
first claims that once “race” is a driver for social segregation, analysts should consider “race”
whatever is embedded in the “racist” interpretative schemata. The other position claims that
because “race” is socially constructed, we should avoid this category and focus only on other
(objective) social relations, like class, social strata, etc.
Although this paper confers doesn’t give priority to “race”, I chose to include it as a
control variable. It is large the amount of bibliography that points that “race” and ethnicity is
one of the most relevant explanatory variables on social segregation. For instance, Tilly
(1999, 2003) defends that social boundaries around ethnicity are created in order to maintain
the protection of privileges (see also LAMONT ; MOLNAR, 2002). Lopes (2000) makes a
direct criticism to Bourdieu’s conception of field for not including the category of “race”. In
his opinion, an “ethnic capital” could help to supplement other types of capitals.
The effect of “race” might be confounded with cultural capital (for more educated
white leaders are compared with non-educated African-descendents). But the causality might
be reversed at this point: low mobility prospects didn’t encourage the accumulation of formal
cultural capital32. As a consequence, African-Americans were led to avoid conservatories and
formal education. It is not surprising that Bebop revolution in the forties helped to reverse this
trend. As African-American musicians started to claim their rights, they started to enroll in
academic institutions for a formal education. This came also in tandem with the reinforcement
of the normative strength originated at the professional musician sphere in the late forties. In
that sense, as the internal dynamics in the jazz field changed to benefit achievement rather
than assigned characteristics, we should observe the weight of variable decrease in strength.
I included also “gender” and whether the leader was from the U.S. Both variables
receive less attention in the secondary literature, although recent studies started to flesh
important aspects in relation to gender and national origin in the history of Jazz. For instance,
Tucker (2000) analyses the role of women in the development of Swing. Although women
have been present throughout the whole history of jazz33, it is the Swing era when they
achieved the higher prominence. As a result, we should observe a high correlation between
the presence of female leaders and the Swing style.
Berendt and Huesmann, German writers, argue that Jazz has been in its beginning
mostly an American invention. They support such claim by depicting the European Jazz as a
copy of the American Jazz (BERENDT ; HUESMANN, 1998). After the Second World War,
32
From a different theoretical approach, Fernandes (1969) suggested that the racial segregation in the Brazilian
society could not be reduced to class segregation.
33
As we observe later, on Table 3.1, the percentage of female leaders is always around 10%.
65
the flow of American musicians to Europe helped to increase the proficiency of European
musicians. However, claim the authors, it is only when European musicians develop local free
jazz style that authentic European jazz emerges. Conversely, we are able to see an influx of
Japanese, Brazilian and other nationalities to the Jazz world. In parallel, as Americans shy
away from jazz during the fifties and sixties, the foreign audiences increase in relevance to
jazz musicians. As a consequence, we should observe am increase in prominence of non-U.S.
musicians, as well as an increasingly association with avant-garde styles.
3.5. Data Sources
3.5.1. Jazz Recording Sessions Data
The source on the recording sessions is from Tom Lord’s CD-ROM (LORD, 2005). I
used both the 4.0 and the 5.0 versions for this purpose. My database includes only a subset of
the recording sessions stored in these CD-ROMs. The criteria applied for extracting sessions
from this database was the following. First, the band leader had to have at least twenty
sessions recorded. This set of band leaders amassed over 73,000 recording sessions, or 50.5%
of all recording sessions included in the CD-ROM. In contrast, they represent only 6% of all
26,147 leaders present in the CD-ROM.
Next, I selected only those sessions that fell within the time frame, from 1930 to 1969.
As a result, many leaders were not included, for their sessions were either after 1969 or before
1930. In personal communication, Mr. Lord expressed that many non-jazz artists were
included due to pressure from CD-ROM buyers. Nevertheless, Mr. Lord believes that in the
coming versions he will be able to exclude non-Jazz musicians. I also asked to Mr. Lord what
his criteria for including artists in his database were. My concern was that he could be
excluding important artists by setting arbitrary boundaries on what is Jazz. In general, Mr.
Lord tended to err in the side of inclusion rather than exclusion of artists.
As a consequence, I triangulated my database with Scott Yanow’s style classification.
As a result, I classified all leaders in spells of styles34. Many artists played other genres, like
R&B and Rock-n-Roll. All those leaders who were never under the Jazz umbrella were
excluded from my database. I ended up with 388,204 sessions35 distributed across 1,112
leaders36.
34
See below
A leader’s sessions spread out in a single day were grouped in a single session.
36
Actual individual musicians, in contrast with band name.
35
66
Some bands didn’t have a single leader. They either had shared leadership or just changed
leaders along their existence. As a consequence, I produced an N by N database matching
sessions to leaders. The major sources of information for this table was the New Grove
Dictionary of Jazz (KERNFELD, 2001), and biographies at the web sites referenced above.
3.5.2. Style Assignment Methodology
Ideally, each session would be classified under the existing styles by its contemporary
critics. Moreover, I would be able to combine the opinions of several experts on each session
and extract an Intercode Reliability Index on each session. Alternatively, as DiMaggio (1987)
suggests, I should be able to locate each recording session in a web of style classification,
which would include not only the musicians’ self assessment, but critics’, producers’ and
distributors’ classification.
Although such material would be certainly rich for analyzing the classification
methods across different groups in the jazz field, that strategy was not pursued for two
reasons. First, the major question in this article is not on the sense-making processes around
style assignment. On the contrary, I want to understand how the styles evolved during Jazz’s
history. Hence, I was compelled to accept some degree of reification of these categories. As a
result, I take for granted that a current (2005) labeling crystallizes a consensus on a
classification system. The database consulted was the All Media Guide, under the direction of
Scott Yanow. I triangulated several of his and his associates’ classifications with The New
Grove Dictionary of Jazz classifications. There was a high match in classification, with the
exception of the “trad” and “modern” labels, which are usually used in Europe. For the
former, I used AMG’s “big band/swing” and “New Orleans/Classic Jazz” labels, and for the
former I used the “Bop” label.
Second, the large number of recording sessions included in my database would make
it quite difficult to classify them all by interviewing critics, musicians, producers or
distributors. Moreover, many if not the majority of these actors are not alive any more. Even
if I tried to classify most of these sessions using the AMG database my effort would be
frustrated. Many of these recording sessions were never released, or aired for few just minutes
in a radio station. Many of them are lost or buried in collectors’ shelves.
I also considered the strategy of text recognition of record criticism. By scanning
contemporary criticism, I should be able to extract from this material referenced to styles.
This effort would be also inappropriate for my purposes. First, many references to styles were
67
negative, rather positive association. Second, many references were unrelated to the record
under review. Finally, much criticism doesn’t make any reference to style, which would
make it difficult to assess the soundness of my sample. As a consequence, I would be forced
to read and code each criticism, in order to extract the record classification.
I adopted a more pragmatic approach. Rather than classifying each recording session, I
identified for each leader in my database those records that marked any change in AMG’s
classification. For instance, if a leader’s records were always classified under “Swing” and
“Bop”, I stored as a turning-point event the first record classified under “bop” only. If the
leader returned to Swing, I stored again only the record session correspondent to this change.
As a result, I ended up with a database of turning-point events for each leader, where each
record depicts a change in style classification. To be sure, each event may be classified under
multiple styles.
Next, I assigned all sessions between two turning point events under the first event
classification. In several cases, AMG didn’t present an artist’s early albums. For these cases, I
supplemented the AMG information with other data sources (see above). I also triangulated
several AMG’s classification with these alternative sources. Nevertheless, some left and right
censoring was unavoidable. I treated left-censored cases as missing cases. Right missing cases
were treated as missing cases whenever the gap without classification surpassed a period of
five years.
Below I depict an illustration of the style assignment mechanism:
Left
Censored
Swing
Bop
Swing, Bop
AMG:
Swing
AMG:
Swing,
Bop
Bop, Hard
Bop
AMG:
Bop
AMG:
Bop, Hard
Bop
Styles are assigned to turning points, or “events”. Sessions will receive the styles
assigned to their precedent event. If a session is not preceded by any event, it falls in the “leftcensored” region, and no style is assigned. Conversely, if a session is not preceded by an
event at least five years old, it falls in the “right-censored” region and no style is assigned.
68
3.5.3. Musicians’ Demographic Data
The most important source for demographic data came from the All Music database.
At this site I was able to extract the musician’s date of birth, perform a pictorial analysis to
identify whether the musician was African-Descendent37, and check the musician’s
nationality38. Alternative sources included the The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz, The Big
bands database plus site, Jazz associations and musicians themselves, cited in the
“Agradecimentos” section.
3.6. Methodology
The analyses performed in this article have two purposes. First, connect the evolution
of Jazz to the proposed ideal types. Second, explore the process throughout the Jazz field
migrated from one type to another.
3.6.1. MRQAP
It is not always possible to grasp directly a field’s institutional logics (THORNTON ;
OCASIO, 1999). In such cases, this task has to be performed indirectly, through the analysis
of the actors’ behavior and supplemented with qualitative research. In our case, the overall
field’s logic of interest is the association patterns among musicians.
In order to analyze how different factors explain the association among leaders, I let
the square matrix a that relates leaders to be the dependent variable. As independent variable
I used four sets of matrices.
“Power matrices” comprise those privileged variables under Bourdieu’s theory of
field: age at the field (Field Age) and market share (Session number). Because of the
distribution of these variables are strongly skewed towards one, I used the natural logarithm.
The two matrices used as independent variables had for each pair the difference between
leaders. Positive and significant parameters denote a preference for leaders with higher (or
lower) number of sessions or years at the field.
The second set (“categorical variables”) comprises those ascribed characteristics that
impacted the success and association patterns among musicians and a measure of style
dissimilarity. These variables are: style dissimilarity, gender, “race” and whether the
37
The challenge here was to apply a categorization that scholars on racial boundaries could reasonably accept. I
would like to make this classification available for third-party cross-checking, as far as necessary to improve it.
38
Tom Lord’s database provides an identification of nationality.
69
musicians are from the U.S. The dissimilarity measure was calculated in the following way:
first, I created an affiliation matrix of all leaders by all styles (an “n” by “s” rectangular
matrix). Next, I transformed this rectangular matrix in a square matrix f , containing the
Euclidean distance between each pair of leaders. A positive and significant parameter denotes
a preference for leaders who don’t play the same style. The gender matrix contained
information on whether both leaders were of the same gender. If both leaders were women,
for instance, the pair received “1”. In contrast, if one was a male and the other female, the pair
received “0”. Positive and significant parameter denotes a preference for same-gender leader.
I applied a stricter approach for national origin: if both leaders were from the U.S., the pair
received “1”, otherwise, it received “0”. With this approach, I focused on the weight of U.S.
leaders’ endogamy. I used a similar approach to “race”. I created two matrices: Both AfricanDescendents and Neither African-Descents. In the “Both African-Descendents” matrix, if
both leaders were African-descendents, the pair received “1”, otherwise “0”. The same logic
was used to construct the matrix “Neither African-Descents”, but now I coded “1” only for
those pairs where both leaders were not African-Descendents39. The construction of these two
matrices helps us to isolate endogamous tendencies among African-descendents and NonAfrican-descendents.
The third set, “relational variable” comprises a comparison in betweenness centrality.
The resulting matrix denotes the difference in betweenness centrality for each pair of leader.
Hence, a positive and significant parameter is interpreted as a preference for leaders with
higher or lower betweenness centrality.
Finally, the “Styles” set comprises matrices for each style. For each style, I coded “1”
whether both musicians played that particular style, and “0” if any of them didn’t play it. As a
consequence, for each style I obtained a square matrix where the “1” denotes “both leaders
play this style” and “0” for all other cases. A positive and significant parameter is interpreted
as an endogamous preference among leaders who play that style.
The first model relates the first four sets of independent variables to the dependent
variables and its results are summarized in Table 2:
aP Matrix (Diff. Field Age (ln)) + Matrix (Diff. Number of Sessions (ln)) +
Matrix(Style Dissimilarity) + Matrix (Same Gender) + Matrix(Both African-Descendents) +
Matrix(Neither African-Descendents) + Matrix (Both U.S. Musicians)
39
I also tested a matrix with “same ‘race’” coding. The separation of this matrix in the two matrices mentioned
above decreased the model’ error.
70
The second model adds to the model above the matrices by style. Its results are
summarized on Table 3.
I estimated the odds-ratio of a by performing a MRQAP analysis (Multiple
Regression Quadratic Assignement Procedure). This algorithm developed by Dekker,
Krackhardt and Snijders (2005) estimates the odds-ratio of a dichotomic and square matrix.
The advantage of this procedure over other available algorithms is its better sensitivity
analysis to collinearity among the independent variables.
3.6.2. Blockmodeling
One of our concerns is to reconstruct the evolving macro structure of the field, in order
to understand the constraints imposed to musicians’ action, but also to explore how this very
action affected the field’s structure. In order to obtain a topology of the Jazz field structure
over time, we applied a blockmodeling approach from the Social Networks Analysis tradition.
As noted in the chapter “Fields and Networks”, the methodology of blockmodeling
was developed by White, Boorman and Breiger (1976) in order to extract positions from a
network. Faukner (1983) a similar approach in order to recognize central and peripheral
blocks among networks of film composers.
The use of blockmodeling has become widespread in organizational research.
DiMaggio (1986) was one of its first proponents by using it to study the relation among
theaters’ managers in the U.S. Mohr’s (1994) study of non-profit organizations in the
beginning of the twentieth century, and Padget and Ansell (1993) investigation of the
relationships among Florentine families in order to understand the rise of the Medici are other
seminal contributions that used blockmodeling. The idea of blockmodeling is to group
together those individuals who share similar patterns of relationships with all individuals in
network (see Breiger, 2004 for a review on the methodology). As a result, musicians placed in
the same block will be structurally similar, which means that they will be likely to bear the
same pattern of ties to other actors in the network. Nevertheless, structurally similar actors are
not necessarily connected among themselves.
We used the Tabu Search algorithm in order to obtain the networks’ partitions. The
user sets the number of partitions desired. Next, the Tabu Search algorithm builds a matrix c,
a p by p ideal matrix, where p is the number of partitions originally set. Next, the algortithm
permutates the orginal a matrix (composed by the n individuals) and modifies c until it finds
71
the partitions that maximize the correlation between c and a. As Hanneman (2001)
indicates, there is no “good” or “bad” number of blocks. I chose eight blocks, as it would
yield a number of blocks still feasible to analyze, increase the correspondence between the P
and N.
I used UCINET 6.71 in order to obtain the permutated matrix c and its respective
image matrix (Table 4). The image matrices were generated following Breiger, RL, S.
Boorman and P. Arabie. 1975. I obtained the image matrix by calculating the density of ties in
each block. Next, I dichotomized density matrix of each period using the following procedure:
if the density of a given block was above the average density of the image matrix, I
considered as having a tie between a pair of blocks. I used the average density as a threshold
for dichotomization of ties among blocks. Table 6 shows correlations for 2, 4 and 8 blocks for
each period. As expected, by using 8 blocks we obtain substantially higher correlations. Table
5 shows the distribution of densities for each period, for the 8-block approach. Periods V and
VIII presented the lowest correlations. It is expected that the distribution be bi-modal, in order
to make the analysis meaningful. Periods II and VIII had the farthest distributions from the bimodal ideal. Chart 5 reproduces the image matrices on table 4.
3.7. Results
3.7.1. MRQAP Analyses
Table 2 summarizes the results for the MRQAP analysis for all periods, without the
style variables. As expected, differences in Field Age and Number of Sessions were
negatively related with the likeliness of tie between two leaders. In other words, the stronger
the difference between two leaders’ profiles of age and share of markets, the lower was the
probability of sharing sidemen. Nevertheless, the weight of these factors is not constant. In
period V and VII Age Field comes closer to zero, while in periods III and VII Number of
Sessions becomes less negative.
72
Table 3.1
Period
Evolution of Leaders, per major Categorical Group
(II)
(III)
(IV)
(V)
(I)
1930 to 1934
1935 to 1939
1940 to 1944
1945 to 1949
1950 to 1954
(VI)
(VII)
(VIII)
1955 to 1959
1960 to 1964
1965 to 1969
Total Number of Leaders
158
213
277
435
537
669
703
695
Non African Descendent
African Descendent
103
55
144
69
184
93
255
180
318
219
396
273
407
296
410
285
Non African Descendent %
65%
68%
66%
59%
59%
59%
58%
59%
African Descendent %
35%
32%
34%
41%
41%
41%
42%
41%
Male
Female
140
18
194
19
250
27
391
44
479
58
596
73
635
68
634
61
Male %
89%
91%
90%
90%
89%
89%
90%
91%
Female %
11%
9%
10%
10%
11%
11%
10%
9%
U.S.
Non U.S.
134
24
162
51
205
72
344
91
413
124
502
167
507
196
472
223
U.S. %
85%
76%
74%
79%
77%
75%
72%
68%
Non-U.S. %
15%
24%
26%
21%
23%
25%
28%
32%
Source: Author’s analysis
73
0.179
0.089
0
25,440
Adjusted R2
0.107
Probability
0
Number of Observations
12,432
Note: Observation refer to ties valued "1"
* P<0.05
** P<0.01
**
**
0.019
-0.022
0.029
0.145
0.201
0.01
-0.039
0.083
0.289
0.218
**
-0.077
-0.073
-0.013
0.014
1935 to 1939
**
**
**
**
**
0.076
0
39,402
0.126
0.001
0.021
0.09
0.111
0.217
-0.073
-0.043
1940 to 1944
**
**
**
**
**
**
0.077
0
78,680
0.187
0.028
-0.01
0.085
0.077
0.156
-0.088
-0.064
1945 to 1949
**
**
**
**
*
**
**
0.052
0
145,542
0.176
0.003
0.009
0.033
0.045
0.116
-0.053
-0.064
1950 to 1954
**
**
**
*
**
**
0.094
0
253,512
0.186
0.011
-0.026
0.068
0.033
0.187
-0.078
-0.12
1955 to 1959
MRQAP Parameters per Period, on Power, Categorical and Relational Variables
(II)
(III)
(IV)
(V)
(VI)
1930 to 1934
(I)
0.031
Power Variables
Diff. Field Age (ln)
Diff. Number of Sessions (ln)
Categorical Variables
Style Dissimilarity
Same Gender
Both African-Descendents
Neither African-Descendents
Both U.S. musicians
Relational Variable
Diff. Betweeness Centrality
Period
**
**
*
**
**
**
(VII)
0.083
0
270,920
0.083
0
-0.009
0.089
0.005
0.107
-0.037
-0.031
1960 to 1964
**
**
**
**
**
(VIII)
0.049
0
295,392
0.148
-0.028
0.009
0.093
-0.031
0.066
-0.043
-0.049
1965 to 1969
**
**
**
**
**
**
**
Table 3.2
74
Style Dissimilarity was usually not significant, which we may interpret that the overall
style categorization was not an impediment for sidemen sharing. Exceptions are observed in
period IV and period VIII. While in period IV Style Dissimilarity becomes positive, in period
VIII it becomes negative. In the former period, leaders were actively sharing sidemen
associated with leaders affiliated to different styles to their own. In contrast, in the later
period, leaders were shying away from sharing sidemen with leaders associated with different
styles.
As expected, leader’s gender was weakly associated with the formation of ties. In
contrast, it is enlightening to observe how ethnic preferences evolved in time. In period I,
when both leaders were non-African descendent their likeliness of association through
sidemen was much higher than African-American leaders’. This might be interpreted as an
effect of the Jim Crow policies, which segregated African-American musicians from nonAfrican-American communities. While African-Americans were willing to associate with
White musicians, the later presented much of the resistance. This relationship changed
overtime. “Neither African-Descendents” factor approached zero in period VII to become
negative in period VIII. In contrast, the factor “Both African-Descendents” swung around
positive and zero over time. Periods IV, VI and VIII show an increased tendency for
endogamy among African-Descendent leaders.
Not surprisingly, the tendency that American band leaders were connected was always
positive. To be sure, this is mostly due to the fact that for most of its history, Jazz was
concentrated in the United States. Nevertheless, this tendency weakens, as Jazz becomes
shared by communities of musicians outside U.S.
The Betweenness centrality effect is usually positive, as expected. On periods I and
VII it becomes non significant.
At Table 3, I present the MRQAP analyses with the Style Classification factors. We
promptly observe that the Field Age and Number of Sessions factors were barely affected
with this inclusion.
Style dissimilarity was also barely affected, although while before the period VIII
factor was negative, at this analysis it became positive. As we directly account for style
endogamy, the search for diversity becomes again positive and significant.
75
0.093
0
25,440
-0.005
0.064
-0.013
0.005
0.062
0.036
*
0.171
0.03
**
**
0.021
-0.015
0.031
0.141
0.208
0.011
-0.033
0.076
0.3
0.223
**
-0.077
-0.068
-0.015
0.013
1935 to 1939
*
*
**
**
**
*
**
**
0.096
0
39,402
0.053
0.151
0.03
0.018
0.005
-0.004
0.11
0.015
0.036
0.085
0.116
0.234
-0.042
-0.036
1940 to 1944
*
**
**
**
**
**
**
*
*
0.09
0
78,680
0.003
0.053
0.096
0.029
0.014
-0.005
-0.008
0.011
0
0.185
0.028
-0.009
0.08
0.08
0.153
-0.078
-0.059
1945 to 1949
*
**
*
**
**
**
**
**
**
**
*
**
**
0.066
0
145,542
-0.002
0.074
0.077
0.025
0.043
0.014
0.005
0.012
0.023
0.172
0.005
0.011
0.025
0.044
0.113
-0.032
-0.063
1950 to 1954
**
*
*
**
*
**
**
**
**
**
*
**
**
0.098
0
253,512
-0.005
0.031
0.024
0.013
0.024
0.028
-0.004
0.002
-0.001
0.187
0.008
-0.027
0.065
0.034
0.204
-0.071
-0.119
1955 to 1959
MRQAP Parameters per Period, on Power, Categorical, Relational Variables and Styles
(II)
(III)
(IV)
(V)
(VI)
1930 to 1934
(I)
Adjusted R2
0.11
Probability
0
Number of Observations
12,432
Note: Observation refer to ties valued "1"
* P<0.05
** P<0.01
Power Variables
Diff. Field Age (ln)
Diff. Number of Sessions (ln)
Categorical Variables
Style Dissimilarity
Same Gender
Both African-Descendents
Neither African-Descendents
Both U.S. musicians
Relational Variable
Diff. Betweeness Centrality
Styles
Both Leaders play New Orleans
…………………….Swing
…………………….Bop
…………………….Hard Bop
…………………….Cool
…………………….Soul
…………………….Fusion
…………………….Free Jazz
…………………….Latin/World
Period
**
**
*
**
**
**
**
**
**
**
(VII)
0.066
0
270,920
-0.015
0.019
0.022
0.033
0.015
-0.019
0
0
-0.004
0.137
-0.007
-0.022
0.148
-0.019
0.059
-0.086
-0.082
1960 to 1964
*
*
**
**
**
**
**
(VIII)
0.071
0
295,392
0.007
0.03
0.037
0.091
0.011
0.096
0.021
0.018
0.032
0.142
0.045
-0.004
0.067
-0.01
0.06
-0.029
-0.049
1965 to 1969
**
*
**
**
**
**
*
**
**
**
**
**
*
Table 3.3
76
Surprisingly, little effect is observed on “Both African-descendents” factor. That is to
say: regardless of the style adopted, African-Descendent endogamy remained steady. In
contrast, the non-African-Descendent exogamy observed in period VIII turned to be not
significant, which could mean that this trend was mostly driven by style preference.
With the inclusion of the “Style” matrices, the betweenness centrality difference is
significant and positive in all periods, with exception of Period I.
When we turn to the analysis of Style endogamy, it is worthy to comment on each
one’s evolution and in tandem with their counterparts. New Orleans endogamy is positive
significant at period I and III. While in the former period it is mostly associated with Jim
Crow policies and the low-brow stigma, in the later period in depicts the revival reaction
towards other groups. We observe the highest parameter associated with Swing at Period III,
declining to become non-significant at Period VII.
It is interesting that by the inception of Bop, we observe a negative trend towards
endogamy. Bop leaders were strongly associated with the Swing world: they were actually
former sidemen of prominent Swing leaders. At this early stage, bop leaders attempted to
develop their music in the interstices of an industry dominated by Swing. This factor became
positive and significant, achieving its maximum value at period IV, while declining there
after. Compare the Hard Bop factors with Bop’s. They evolve as if both styles were tightly
linked. Hard Bop achieves a positive and significant parameter at period IV (one later than
Bebop), but declines right after. A recovery is observed on Period VIII.
The trends seem to suggest that endogamy is highest at the moment of inception40:
Cool at Period V, Soul at Period VI, Fusion at Period VIII, and Latin at Period V.
Nonetheless, Period VIII shows a recovery in all parameters (with exception of Cool and New
Orleans/Classic Jazz).
40
I offer two complementary reasons to this fact, which is epiphenomenal to this article’s scope. First, as Weber
(1950) suggests, new social groups who are eager to establish their boundaries become more sectarian than the
mainstream group (Weber contrasts the new Protestant groups to the Catholic group). We find the same
argument in Coser (1966), where closure comes in tandem with social identity construction. A second reason is
incidentally explored in the “Careers in the Right Beat” article. As a leader attempts to establish a new style, he
has to rely on specialized resources. The maintenance of this resources together might occur in tandem with a
higher endogamous tendency, at least until the style is ready to be codified and diffused.
77
3.7.2. Analyses of Blocks
3.7.2.1. Period I (1930-1934)
A first inspection of the reduced graph gives us the picture of a shared core: Blocks I.1
, I.7, I.3 and I.6 form a connected square. I.6 serves as a broker to I.4 - I.2 side, while I.5 and
I.8 are isolated. Nonetheless, a deeper analysis reveals that I.1 is clearly the dominant block in
this period. Only 13 leaders concentrate 23% of all sessions. Among them, we find Benny
Goodman, Tommy Dorsey and Red Nichols. They tend to be older in the field, with an
average field age of 10.08, and have the highest average number of sessions, 32 (Table 7.1).
In the U.S. circuit, it is the block with highest betweenness centrality (2.08, lower than I.4,
constituted with European musicians, and I.6, which is occupied by a single musician who
performs a bridge between the U.S. and the European worlds). Interestingly, its leaders tend
to play Swing more than New Orleans, which points to the direction of adoption of the
commercial style. Only 8% are African-Descendents (much below the field’s average of
29%). They are all American and mostly White.
Contrast this block with blocks I.5 and I.8. These blocks concentrate most AfricanDescendent leaders. They are not connected among themselves, and have low average market
share (7 and 12 respectively), although their field age are closer to average (Block I.5’s
average is 8.22, close to the field average of 8.28). Block I.5 resembles a lot Block I.1 when
we consider the styles played. Both tend to play Swing, while retaining New Orleans roots.
Louis Armstrong, King Oliver, Sidney Bechet, in spite of being among the most important
innovators in Jazz, are located in the isolated I.5. To be sure, their innovations will be
absorbed by core actors (KOFSKY). It is also interesting to observe white Swing leaders like
Glen Gray (from the Casa Loma Orchestra) in this block. This suggests that even those early
innovators among white leaders were in close contact with African-descendent musicians
while creating the new style. Duke Ellington and Fletcher Henderson had better luck than
their African-American counterparts. They were located at I.7, closer and connected to the
power center in the field.
Consider now Blocks I.4 and I.2. They are mostly comprised by non-U.S. leaders.
Between them, Block I.2 is the dominant: higher average number of sessions and field age.
Also, Block I.2 is gearing towards Swing, while I.4 is strongly associated with New Orleans.
It is of special interest to find musicians who occupy privileged positions in a network.
During Period I, Jimmy Dorsey occupied a brokerage position between the Non-U.S.
(European and mostly British), and the U.S. jazz worlds (Block I.6).
78
Block III.6
Block III.7
Block III.5
Isolated
Period III – 1940 to 1944
Block I.7
Block III.4
Block III.1
Block I.3
Block I.1
Period I – 1930 to 1934
Block III.8
Block III.2
Block III.3
Block I.6
Block I.5
Isolated
Block I.2
Block I.4
Block I.8
Block II.4
Block II.1
Block IV.6
Block IV.3
Block IV.7
Isolated
Period IV – 1945 to 1949
Block II.7
Block II.8
Period II – 1935 to 1939
Block IV.1
Block IV.4
Block II.2
Block II.6
Block II.5
Block IV.8
Block IV.2
Block IV.5
Block II.3
Chart 3.5: Tabu Search Blockmodeling - Reduced Graphs
79
Table 3.4
Tabu Search Blockmodeling: Density Tables and Image Matrices per period
Density Tables
Image Matrices
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
1.00
1.00
0.25
0.06
1.00
0.86
0.21
2
0.02
1.00
0.90
0.07
0.20
0.03
0.03
3
1.00
1.00
0.25
0.04
1.00
0.68
0.07
4
0.06
0.95
0.13
1.00
0.15
1.00
0.06
0.20
Period I - 1930 to 1934
5
6
7
8
0.05
1.00
0.84
0.10
0.04
0.01
0.03
0.03
1.00
0.69
0.07
0.09
0.50
0.09
0.20
0.04
0.02
0.05
0.07
0.04
0.92
0.20
0.03
0.97
0.36
0.06
0.06
0.27
0.10
0.11
Average Density
0.35
Blocks
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
1
0
1
0
0
1
1
0
2
0
1
0
1
0
0
0
0
3
1
0
1
0
0
1
1
0
4
0
1
0
1
0
1
0
0
5
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
6
1
0
1
1
0
1
1
0
7
1
0
1
0
0
0
1
0
8
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
0.98
0.01
0.04
0.15
0.24
0.20
0.33
0.26
2
0.02
0.63
0.03
0.04
0.08
0.40
0.01
3
0.03
0.01
0.77
0.22
-
4
0.18
0.04
0.14
0.02
0.21
1.00
0.06
Period II - 1935 to 1939
5
6
7
8
0.17
0.25
0.28
0.27
0.06
0.70
0.22
0.02
0.15
1.00
0.06
0.04
0.08
0.03
0.29
1.00
0.07
1.00
0.09
0.05
0.06
0.02
0.07
Average Density
0.19
Blocks
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
1
0
0
0
1
1
1
1
2
0
1
0
0
0
0
1
0
3
0
0
1
0
1
0
0
0
4
0
0
0
0
0
1
1
0
5
0
0
1
0
0
0
0
0
6
1
0
0
0
0
1
1
0
7
1
1
0
1
0
1
0
0
8
1
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
2
3
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
0.99
0.98
0.02
0.16
0.16
0.37
1.00
0.15
0.03
-
0.25
0.79
0.01
-
4
0.94
1.00
0.01
0.25
0.27
0.80
Period III - 1940 to 1944
5
6
7
8
0.03
0.15
0.20
0.25
0.03
0.01
0.05
0.26
0.33
0.78
0.17
0.01
0.02
0.01
0.19
0.04
0.10
0.01
0.03
0.05
0.09
0.04
0.13
0.13
0.73
Average Density
0.19
Blocks
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
1
0
0
1
0
0
0
1
2
0
1
0
0
0
0
0
0
3
0
1
1
0
0
0
0
0
4
1
0
0
1
0
1
1
1
5
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
6
0
0
0
1
0
1
0
0
7
1
0
0
1
0
0
0
0
8
1
0
0
1
0
0
0
1
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
0.92
0.05
0.03
0.82
0.03
0.22
0.10
0.95
2
0.10
0.90
0.02
0.13
0.77
0.02
0.03
-
3
0.03
0.04
0.28
0.04
0.02
0.02
0.02
-
4
0.83
0.09
0.01
0.72
0.03
0.17
0.08
0.79
Period IV - 1945 to 1949
5
6
7
8
0.06
0.27
0.20
0.98
0.87
0.01
0.05
0.01
0.02
0.02
0.19
0.10
0.68
0.37
0.01
0.04
0.01
0.04
0.03
0.10
0.04
0.02
0.06
0.05
0.02
0.14
0.11
0.98
Average Density
0.21
Blocks
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
1
0
0
1
0
1
0
1
2
0
1
0
0
1
0
0
0
3
0
0
1
0
0
0
0
0
4
1
0
0
1
0
0
0
1
5
0
1
0
0
1
0
0
0
6
1
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
7
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
8
1
0
0
1
0
0
0
1
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
1.00
0.81
0.15
0.04
0.21
0.32
0.14
0.96
2
0.96
1.00
0.90
0.04
0.38
0.25
0.24
0.91
3
0.23
0.85
0.85
0.13
0.04
0.07
0.18
4
0.06
0.04
0.19
0.01
0.05
0.01
0.06
Period V - 1950 to 1954
5
6
7
8
0.25
0.32
0.17
0.90
0.41
0.21
0.26
0.78
0.17
0.04
0.09
0.12
0.01
0.05
0.01
0.05
0.08
0.05
0.04
0.19
0.06
0.21
0.05
0.34
0.04
0.05
0.03
0.14
0.23
0.36
0.18
0.94
Average Density
0.28
Blocks
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
1
1
0
0
0
1
0
1
2
1
1
1
0
1
0
0
1
3
0
1
1
0
0
0
0
0
4
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
5
0
1
0
0
0
0
0
0
6
1
0
0
0
0
0
0
1
7
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
8
1
1
0
0
0
1
0
1
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
0.92
1.00
0.10
0.85
0.02
0.35
0.04
0.99
2
1.00
0.56
0.61
0.97
1.00
0.66
0.10
1.00
3
0.08
0.99
0.62
0.06
0.74
0.08
0.01
0.16
4
0.89
0.80
0.07
0.81
0.04
0.31
0.05
0.98
Period VI - 1955 to 1959
5
6
7
8
0.02
0.40
0.07
1.00
0.81
0.17
1.00
0.82
0.10
0.02
0.18
0.02
0.36
0.08
0.97
0.90
0.03
0.02
0.04
0.01
0.25
0.05
0.72
0.01
0.04
0.02
0.09
0.02
0.76
0.14
1.00
Average Density
0.43
Blocks
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
1
1
0
1
0
0
0
1
2
1
1
1
1
1
1
0
1
3
0
1
1
0
1
0
0
0
4
1
1
0
1
0
0
0
1
5
0
1
1
0
1
0
0
0
6
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
1
7
0
1
0
0
0
0
0
0
8
1
0
0
1
0
1
0
1
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
0.96
0.96
0.96
0.26
0.17
0.97
0.18
0.97
2
0.96
1.00
1.00
0.84
0.16
1.00
0.76
0.98
3
0.96
1.00
1.00
0.94
0.17
0.98
0.93
0.96
4
0.32
0.78
0.97
0.96
0.09
0.73
0.94
0.33
Period VII - 1960 to 1964
5
6
7
8
0.20
0.95
0.16
0.97
0.18
1.00
0.38
1.00
0.21
0.96
0.88
0.96
0.10
0.78
0.91
0.25
0.03
0.17
0.04
0.16
0.22
0.98
0.14
0.97
0.06
0.20
0.86
0.08
0.20
0.93
0.07
0.98
Average Density
0.63
Blocks
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
1
1
1
0
0
1
0
1
2
1
1
1
1
0
1
1
1
3
1
1
1
1
0
1
1
1
4
0
1
1
1
0
1
1
0
5
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
6
1
1
1
1
0
1
0
1
7
0
0
1
1
0
0
1
0
8
1
1
1
0
0
1
0
1
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
1.00
0.18
0.02
0.23
0.27
1.00
0.25
2
0.22
0.20
0.04
0.01
0.02
0.04
0.18
0.02
3
0.03
0.01
0.01
0.01
0.01
4
0.02
0.02
0.01
0.01
0.02
0.01
0.02
0.03
Period VIII - 1965 to 1969
5
6
7
8
0.36
0.36
1.00
0.31
0.03
0.05
0.19
0.01
0.02
0.01
0.01
0.01
0.01
0.01
0.03
0.75
0.05
0.18
0.06
0.05
0.22
0.04
0.25
0.26
1.00
0.05
0.05
0.04
1.00
Average Density
0.16
Blocks
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
1
1
0
0
1
1
1
1
2
1
1
0
0
0
0
1
0
3
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
4
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
5
1
0
0
0
1
0
1
0
6
1
0
0
0
0
0
1
0
7
1
1
0
0
1
1
1
0
8
1
0
0
0
0
0
0
1
Blocks
Blocks
Blocks
Blocks
Blocks
Blocks
Blocks
Blocks
80
Table 3.5
Tabu Search Results: R2 per Period and Number of Blocks
Number of Blocks
2
4
8
I
0.114
0.262
0.455
II
0.170
0.165
0.185
Period
IV
0.070
0.113
0.162
III
0.097
0.140
0.217
V
0.047
0.072
0.121
VI
0.063
0.294
0.351
VII
0.045
0.236
0.225
VIII
0.056
0.089
0.131
Table 3.6
Block Robustness: Distribution of Densities
Period
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
0% ≤ D ≤ 25%
66%
78%
80%
77%
70%
51%
34%
83%
25% < D ≤ 50%
5%
10%
6%
5%
11%
6%
6%
8%
50% < D ≤ 75%
3%
3%
2%
3%
0%
10%
2%
2%
75% < D ≤ 100%
27%
10%
13%
16%
19%
33%
58%
8%
Table 3.7.1
Period I: Selected Statistics per Block (Number of Leaders and Discrete Variables)
Block
I.1
I.2
I.3
I.4
I.5
I.6
I.7
I.8
Total
Total
Number % Leaders number of
% of
Avg. Num.
Avg.
of Leaders on Total
Sessions
Sessions
Sessions Field Age
10%
23%
13
420
32
10.08
4
2
4
50
1
39
15
128
3%
2%
3%
39%
1%
30%
12%
100%
113
41
65
325
21
632
183
1,799
6%
2%
4%
18%
1%
35%
10%
100%
(5.38)
28
(8.2)
21
(2.5)
16
(6.34)
7
(1.02)
21
N/A
16
(2.29)
12
(3.73)
14.05
(1.3)
(0.83)
7.25
(2.72)
8.00
(0)
6.25
(0.95)
8.22
(0.72)
10.00
N/A
8.74
(0.71)
6.47
(1.02)
8.28
(0.4)
Avg.
Betweeness
Centrality
2.08
(0.44)
0.34
(0.18)
0.94
(0.07)
3.34
(3.06)
0.28
(0.09)
5.85
N/A
0.49
(0.12)
0.55
(0.14)
0.71
(0.13)
Table 3.7.2
81
Period I: Number of Leaders Classified under selected Dichotomic Variables
AfricanDesc.
Block
I.1
I.2
I.3
I.4
I.5
I.6
I.7
I.8
Total
Pearson Chi-Square
Asymp. Sig. (2-sided)
Female
1
0
0
0
24
0
5
7
37
0.001
Non U.S.
2
0
1
0
4
0
2
1
10
0.412
0
3
0
3
9
0
1
4
20
0.000
New Orleans
Swing
6
1
1
2
26
0
17
4
57
0.831
8
2
1
2
30
1
18
10
72
0.695
Percentage on total number of leaders in each block (Yellow, Bold Italic: above average)
AfricanDesc.
Block
Female
Non U.S.
New Orleans
Swing
I.1
8%
15%
0%
55%
73%
I.2
0%
0%
75%
33%
67%
I.3
0%
0%
50%
50%
50%
I.4
0%
0%
75%
50%
50%
I.5
48%
8%
18%
57%
65%
I.6
0%
0%
0%
0%
100%
I.7
13%
5%
3%
52%
55%
I.8
47%
7%
27%
33%
83%
Avg. Total (in Blocks)
29%
8%
16%
51%
64%
82
3.7.2.2. Period II (1935-1939)
The square-like core structure seems to remain in the field (II.1, II.7, II.4 and II.6),
while less connected than before (II.1 and II.4 are not connected). Also, we don’t observe
isolated blocks as before. But analyze Table 8.1: the disparity among blocks is striking.
Eighteen leaders in II.1 have in average 52 sessions and concentrate 31% of the field’s
production. Their average field age is higher than the field’s (10.67 versus 9.22), and yet,
slightly lower than II.7’s age (12 years). Leaders at II.1 play mostly Swing. Benny Goodman,
Artie Shaw, Red Norvo are among the prestigious white leaders in this block. But now the
integration of African-American popular leaders permits the presence, inter alia, of Billy
Holiday and Louis Armstrong who climbed from less prominent blocks in the previous
period.
Right after II.1 we observe that leaders at II.6 produced in average 23 sessions, and
concentrated 13% of the field’s production. Nevertheless, their field age is almost identical to
II.1. They are connected to II.1 and are playing mostly Swing. In comparison to II.1, II.6 has a
higher rate of African-descendents. Duke Ellington and Fletcher Henderson are among them.
These “field-young” leaders tend to play Swing and their success brought them to an
advantaged position in the field. In contrast, Benny Carter at block II.7 is one of the oldest
leaders in the field and has the highest betweenness centrality among all blocks.
Blocks II.5, II.3 and II.2 tend to be non-U.S. leaders, especially the later. They tend to
be younger than the average leader. II.2 has also the lowest average session in the field.
Among its leaders, we find Coleman Hawkins.
Table 3.8.1
83
Period II: Selected Statistics per Block (Number of Leaders and Discrete Variables)
Block
II.1
Total
Number % Leaders number of
of Leaders on Total
Sessions
II.2
II.3
18
10
8
10%
% of
Sessions
936
6%
79
4%
112
31%
3%
4%
II.4
12
7%
214
7%
II.5
4
2%
96
3%
II.6
17
9%
386
13%
II.7
1
1%
17
1%
II.8
111
61%
1,165
39%
181
100%
3,004
100%
Total
Avg. Num.
Avg.
Sessions Field Age
52
(14.28)
8
(1.87)
14
(3.41)
18
10.67
(1.11)
8.90
(2.02)
2.63
(0.5)
8.42
(5.23)
(1.82)
24
(14.29)
23
(4.79)
17
N/A
10
(1.14)
3.00
(1.08)
10.18
(1.03)
12.00
N/A
9.62
16.60
(1.92)
(0.64)
9.22
(0.47)
Avg.
Betweeness
Centrality
2.29
(0.5)
1.12
(0.59)
1.16
(0.79)
0.85
(0.46)
0.17
(0.11)
0.86
(0.26)
13.92
N/A
0.21
(0.04)
0.69
(0.12)
Table 3.8.2
Block
Total
Pearson Chi-Square
Asymp. Sig. (2-sided)
Period II: Number of Leaders Classified under selected Dichotomic Variables
AfricanDesc.
Female
Non U.S.
New Orleans
Swing
Bop
II.1
4
3
0
4
14
II.2
3
0
6
4
9
II.3
0
0
8
0
7
II.4
4
2
4
3
10
II.5
1
0
2
3
3
II.6
6
3
9
7
15
II.7
1
0
0
0
1
II.8
38
5
12
46
63
57
13
41
67
122
0.411
0.199
0.000
0.119
0.018
Percentage on total number of leaders in each block (Yellow, Bold Italic: above average)
AfricanDesc.
Female
Non U.S.
New Orleans
Swing
Bop
Block
II.1
22%
17%
0%
25%
88%
60%
44%
100%
II.2
30%
0%
100%
100%
II.3
0%
0%
0%
33%
17%
33%
100%
II.4
30%
50%
75%
II.5
25%
0%
75%
35%
18%
53%
88%
II.6
41%
100%
100%
II.7
0%
0%
0%
34%
48%
II.8
5%
11%
66%
31%
7%
23%
42%
76%
Avg. Total (in Blocks)
1
1
0
1
0
1
0
2
6
0.765
6%
11%
0%
10%
0%
6%
0%
2%
4%
Hard Bop
2
0
0
0
0
0
0
8
10
0.663
Hard Bop
13%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
8%
6%
84
3.7.2.3. Period III (1940-1944)
Period III, from 1940 to 1944 was marked by the World War II. Not surprisingly,
Blocks III.2, III.3 and III.5, mostly non U.S. leaders are not connected to the U.S. circuit. In
contrast, we found III.1, III.7, III.4 and III.8 forming again an almost entirely connected
square. III.4 and III.8 are by far the dominant blocks. The former’s leaders have in average
54 sessions, and the highest field age, 16.6 years. Their betweenness centrality was also the
field highest, 3.82. Leaders at III.8 had in average 52 sessions, and 13.5 years in the field. In
contrast to III.4, they presented an average betweenness below Block III.3’s average (2.18).
Together, III.4 and III.8 amassed 45% of all field’s production, with only 14% of leaders.
They tended to play Swing, but is worth noting the presence of Bop leaders. At Block III.4,
we find Benny Goodman, Coleman Hawkins and Eddie Condon. At III.8 we find Artie Shaw,
Bing Crosby, Gene Miller, Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey and Woody Herman.
Famous African-American Swing leaders like Louis Armstrong, Fletcher Henderson,
Benny Carter, Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington are all in III.7, as well as the Bop innovators
like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. This is the largest block in the field, with 137 leaders,
48% of them are African-descendents (lower than Block III.1 80%). When we inspect the
percentage distributions of styles at Table 9.2, we find this block’s leaders following closely
the field’s average. III.1 also includes famous African-American leaders: Billy Holiday and
Hot Lips Page.
It is interesting to note the inception of Bop at Blocks III.1 and III.7. These are the
blocks that most concentrate African-descendent leaders. They are both connected to the
dominant blocks III.4 and III.8. Also, worth noting that many of these African-American
leaders mentioned above were at dominant blocks in earlier years. Perhaps the subsequent
segregation of successful African-American leaders had created the context for the emergence
of Bop.
85
Table 3.9.1
Period III: Selected Statistics per Block (Number of Leaders and Discrete Variables)
Block
III.1
III.2
III.3
III.4
III.5
III.6
III.7
III.8
Total
Total
Number % Leaders number of
of Leaders on Total
Sessions
10
2
10
5
15
20
137
26
225
4%
1%
4%
2%
7%
9%
61%
12%
100%
175
22
137
268
181
228
1,220
1,358
3,589
% of
Sessions
5%
1%
4%
7%
5%
6%
34%
38%
100%
Avg. Num.
Avg.
Sessions Field Age
18
(2.42)
11
(4)
14
(3.08)
54
9.90
(1.53)
12.00
(2)
7.00
(0.45)
16.60
(21.06)
(2.11)
12
(2.05)
11
(2.26)
9
(1.14)
52
(12.69)
9.73
(1.57)
12.10
(1.49)
11.36
(0.63)
13.50
15.95
(1.95)
(1.03)
11.43
(0.45)
Avg.
Betweeness
Centrality
1.02
(0.25)
0.69
(0.54)
2.18
(1.42)
3.82
(0.72)
0.02
(0.01)
0.41
(0.11)
0.23
(0.04)
1.49
(0.61)
0.59
(0.11)
86
III.1
III.2
III.3
III.4
III.5
III.6
III.7
III.8
III.1
III.2
III.3
III.4
III.5
III.6
III.7
III.8
Avg. Total (in Blocks)
Block
Total
Pearson Chi-Square
Asymp. Sig. (2-sided)
Block
0.403
0.000
0.000
0
2
10
0
11
10
12
0
45
Non U.S.
2
1
1
2
3
5
55
6
75
0.185
New Orleans
Swing
0.012
8
2
9
5
11
15
79
21
150
Bop
0.060
3
0
1
1
1
0
8
1
15
0.681
Hard Bop Cool
0
0
0
1
0
1
13
2
17
0.297
1
0
0
0
0
0
2
2
5
0
0
0
0
0
0
3
0
3
0.962
Soul
0
0
0
0
0
0
1
0
1
0.999
Free Jazz
Percentage on total number of leaders in each block (Yellow, Bold Italic: above average)
AfricanDesc.
Female
Non U.S.
New Orleans
Swing
Bop
Hard Bop Cool
Soul
Free Jazz
0%
25%
0%
0%
0%
80%
20%
100%
38%
13%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
100%
50%
100%
0%
0%
10%
0%
0%
0%
0%
100%
90%
10%
20%
0%
0%
0%
0%
20%
40%
100%
20%
20%
7%
7%
23%
0%
0%
0%
0%
73%
85%
8%
25%
0%
29%
0%
6%
0%
0%
0%
50%
88%
9%
65%
7%
2%
48%
12%
45%
11%
2%
1%
0%
4%
0%
26%
4%
0%
0%
91%
9%
9%
36%
9%
20%
33%
67%
7%
8%
2%
1%
0%
2
0
0
1
1
0
16
1
21
Female
Period III: Number of Leaders Classified under selected Dichotomic Variables
8
0
0
1
1
5
66
0
81
AfricanDesc.
Table 3.9.2
87
3.7.2.4. Period IV (1945-1949)
The block structure on period IV brings a novelty. Instead of the square structure, we
observe a triangle, formed by IV.1, IV.4 and IV.8. Block IV.1 is clearly the dominant in this
period. Its leaders produced in average 65 recording sessions (Table 10.1). They presented
also the highest betweenness centrality and their average field age (15.08 years) is statistically
equivalent to IV.4 (15.65). Five of these leaders are African-Descendents (Table 10.2; in
percentage terms, similar to the field’s average). They play mostly Swing and Bop, while
already including one leader who plays Cool. They are all Americans. This block brings
together famous white leaders of Swing band like Benny Goodman, Tommy Dorsey and
Woody Herman. At the same time, Louis Armstrong is also in this block. In contrast, Charlie
Parker, Dizzy Gillespie and Sarah Vaughan, reknown leaders in the aggressive and emergent
Bop movement are also in this block. It is ironic that these two conflicting groups share the
same position at this period. While Benny Goodman claimed in an interview that he didn’t
know Bop and Louis Armstrong mocked publicly the new style while reintroducing his New
Orleans style, Parker and Gillespie struggled to advance Bop.
Attached to IV.1, in a clearly peripheral position, we observe IV.6. This is the largest
block in number of leaders (272 musicians, or 80% of leaders). Nonetheless, they concentrate
only 57% of the recorded sessions. Thelonious Monk, one of the exponents in the Bop
movement, is in this block, as well as Stan Getz, who was developing his own approach
which would influence the Cool style.
IV.4, also in the dominant axis, concentrates old leaders in the field, and their
betweenness centrality is second only to IV.1’s. Yet, their average session production was 21,
much below IV.1’s average. Similarly to IV.1, its leaders are predominantly AfricanAmericans. In contrast, they present more leaders playing New Orleans/Classic Jazz. As a
matter of fact, we observe in this block all styles represented, at higher rates in comparison
with the field’s average. This is a position where established African-American Swing leaders
share common sidemen. Coleman Hawkins, Lester Young, Count Basie, Lionel Hampton,
Billy Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald are in this block. It is worth noting the first two in this list
were predecessors to Bop. It is also of interest the presence of the young Miles Davis in this
position (perhaps Grandfather effect – with Coleman?).
Although leaders at IV.8 presented a lower field age in comparison to IV.4, they
produced more than IV.4’s leaders, achieving an average of 41 sessions. They are all white
88
and Americans. They tend to play Swing and Bebop, shying away from New Orleans/Classic
Jazz. Traditional white leaders are here: Artie Shaw, Gene Krupa and Harry James.
Compare this axis with Block IV.7. Its leaders have the lowest average production of
sessions, and, at the same time, still closer to New Orleans/Classic Jazz style. In comparison,
Block IV.6 lump together 272 leaders (almost 80% of the field’s leaders) produce only 57%
of the field’s sessions. And yet, their average field age is 11.57, only 3.5 years below the
elite’s average at IV.1. Their demographics resemble a lot the field’s average (concentration
of African-descendents, women and non-Americans) as well as the styles played.
Blocks IV.2, IV.5 and IV.3 constitute the burgeoning jazz world outside U.S., mostly
in Europe. While block IV.5’s leaders tend to play Swing and Bop, block IV.2 geared towards
Bop. IV.3, in contrast, tend to play only Swing and Bop, shying away from New
Orleans/Classic jazz. These are very field young leaders (as a matter of fact, the youngest
block in the field), and yet their average production of sessions surpasses the field’s average.
Table 3.10.1
Period IV: Selected Statistics per Block (Number of Leaders and Discrete Variables)
Block
IV.1
IV.2
IV.3
IV.4
IV.5
IV.6
IV.7
IV.8
Total
Total
Number % Leaders number of
of Leaders on Total
Sessions
12
5
9
20
6
272
12
7
343
3%
1%
3%
6%
2%
79%
3%
2%
100%
785
48
135
488
75
2,529
74
290
4,424
% of
Sessions
18%
1%
3%
11%
2%
57%
2%
7%
100%
Avg. Num.
Avg.
Sessions Field Age
Avg.
Betweeness
Centrality
65
(13.33)
10
(2.04)
15
(4.38)
24
15.08
(2.33)
7.60
(1.54)
5.00
(2.59)
15.65
(0.46)
(3.48)
(1.44)
(0.29)
13
(5.49)
9
(0.87)
6
(2.19)
41
(14.21)
10.17
(2.33)
11.57
(0.49)
11.83
(1.78)
13.86
12.90
(1.09)
(2.1)
11.73
(0.43)
1.97
(0.46)
1.21
1.17
(0.72)
1.30
1.01
(0.83)
0.20
(0.03)
0.23
(0.13)
0.52
(0.08)
0.38
(0.05)
89
IV.1
IV.2
IV.3
IV.4
IV.5
IV.6
IV.7
IV.8
IV.1
IV.2
IV.3
IV.4
IV.5
IV.6
IV.7
IV.8
Avg. Total (in Blocks)
Block
Total
Pearson Chi-Square
Asymp. Sig. (2-sided)
Block
0.704
0.020
0.000
0
4
8
0
6
44
3
0
65
Non U.S.
3
1
7
6
0
72
6
1
96
0.004
New Orleans
Swing
0.001
10
2
2
17
5
144
2
7
189
Bop
0.300
4
2
0
5
2
45
0
2
60
0.311
Hard Bop Cool
1
0
0
5
0
27
2
0
35
1
0
0
1
0
9
0
0
11
0.955
Period IV: Number of Leaders Classified under selected Dichotomic Variables
0
0
0
1
0
14
1
0
16
0.870
Soul
0
0
0
1
0
1
1
0
3
0.047
Free Jazz
0
0
0
1
0
1
0
1
3
0.026
Fusion
0
0
0
0
0
3
0
0
3
0.996
Latin/World
Percentage on total number of leaders in each block (Yellow, Bold Italic: above average)
AfricanDesc.
Female
Non U.S.
New Orleans
Swing
Bop
Hard Bop Cool
Soul
Free Jazz Fusion
Latin/World
42%
8%
0%
25%
83%
33%
8%
8%
0%
0%
0%
0%
20%
80%
50%
20%
25%
50%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
89%
88%
22%
0%
25%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
55%
15%
32%
89%
26%
26%
5%
5%
5%
5%
0%
0%
100%
83%
33%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
44%
9%
33%
66%
21%
12%
4%
6%
1%
16%
0%
0%
25%
75%
25%
13%
13%
17%
0%
25%
0%
0%
0%
0%
14%
100%
29%
14%
0%
0%
14%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
41%
9%
19%
28%
55%
17%
10%
3%
5%
1%
1%
1%
1
1
0
3
0
24
0
1
30
Female
5
1
2
11
0
119
2
0
140
AfricanDesc.
Table 3.10.2
90
Block VII.5
Isolated
Block VII.8
Block VII.7
Block VII.2
Block VII.4
Block VII.3
Block VII.1
Block V.1
Block V.8
Block V.4
Period VII – 1960 to 1964
Block V.6
Block V.7
Isolated
Period V – 1950 to 1954
Block VII.6
Block V.3
Block V.2
Block V.5
Block VIII.6
Block VIII.2
Period VIII – 1965 to 1969
Block VI.5
Block VI.7
Block VI.6
Period VI – 1955 to 1959
Block VIII.7
Block VIII.1
Block VIII.8
Block VI.2
Block VI.8
Block VIII.5
Block VIII.4
Block VIII.3
Isolated
Block VI.3
Block VI.1
Block VI.4
Chart 3.6: Tabu Search Blockmodeling - Reduced Graphs
91
3.7.2.5. Period V (1950-1954)
The structure of Period V brings us back to the quasi-connected square we have
observed on earlier periods. Again, we are able to identify a dominant block: V.2. The three
leaders in this block have the highest average of production (48 sessions). Their field age
average (17.67) is the second, preceded by (22.33). They have also the highest average
betweenness centrality (3.74), which we may observe on the reduced graph: V.2 connects the
square to V.5 and V.3. The leaders in this block are all African-American men, who play
mostly Swing, Bop and Latin. It is worth noting that their rate of Bop and Latin playing
surpasses by far the field’s average (67% versus 26%, and 33% versus 2%). These leaders are
Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie and Roy Eldridge.
Block V.8 is very similar to V.2: its leaders have a high average number of sessions
(41) and field age (17.07), although their average betweenness is lower (1.21 versus 3.74).
Five of the fifteen leaders are African-descendents. There are mostly American musicians,
with higher presence of women. They tend to play Swing (much above the field average), Bop
and Hard Bop. These are in fact traditional white and African-American Swing leaders: Stan
Kenton, Artie Shaw, Billy Holiday, Louis Armstrong, Harry James, and Count Basie.
Block V.1, connected to V.2, counts with the highest field average in the period,
although their average betweenness centrality is lower than V.2’s and equivalent to V.8.
These established musicians tend to play Swing, are all American men and have a lower
presence of African-descendents that the field’s average. This is a declassé block: once
hegemonic leaders like Benny Goodman, Red Nichols and Tommy Dorsey used to be in the
dominant block in earlier periods.
If V.1 and V.8 have lower presence of African-Descendent leaders, V.3 and V.5
(again, connected to the former by V.2) have higher presence of African-descendent leaders.
These two blocks are shying away from New Orleans/Classic (especially V.3, with Bing
Crosby). V.3 is also shying away from Swing. Their tendency is to play Bop and related styles
(Hard Bop, Cool and Soul). It is in this block that Clifford Brown introduces his style,
predecessor of hard bop. Observe their average session number and field age: both blocks
count with field young leaders. Leaders at V.5 (which includes established swing leaders like
Louis Armstrong, Coleman Hawkins, but also the bop innovator Bud Powell and cool
innovators like John Lewis and Gerry Mulligan) produced fewer sessions than the field’s
average, while V.3 produced somewhat above (13 versus 10.17). This figure was much below
92
their neighbors at V.2. It is worth noting that the once well connected Louis Armstrong is now
brokered by Bop leaders.
Isolated blocks confirm that victorious musicians are also well connected and play
trendy styles. Look at Block V.4. Fourteen out of eighteen leaders play New Orleans/Classic
Jazz. They are unconnected among themselves, and have lower average number of sessions
produced (11). The situation at Block V.7 is even more dramatic. It concentrates 68% of the
field’s leader, while controlling only 48% of its session production. Their average session
production is the lowest in the field (7). Finally, observe block V.6. Although connected to the
square, leaders in this block is not connected among themselves. This is a typical situation of
a fragmented periphery. Altough its leaders are traditional in the field (average field age of
17.18 surpasses Block V.8’s 17.07) they were not able to keep up with new times. They play
New Orleans/Classic more than the field average, and have low acceptance of new styles.
Table 3.11.1
Period V: Selected Statistics per Block (Number of Leaders and Discrete Variables)
Block
V.1
V.2
V.3
Total
Number % Leaders number of
of Leaders on Total
Sessions
9
3
12
2%
1%
3%
258
144
158
% of
Sessions
6%
3%
4%
V.4
18
4%
192
4%
V.5
48
11%
454
10%
V.6
V.7
V.8
Total
33
289
15
427
8%
68%
4%
100%
440
2,078
620
4,344
10%
48%
14%
100%
Avg. Num.
Avg.
Sessions Field Age
29
(6.44)
48
(17.32)
13
(2.75)
11
22.33
(2.11)
17.67
(3.18)
11.58
(2.67)
14.17
(2.66)
(2.52)
9
(1.73)
13
(2)
7
(0.46)
41
(8.42)
12.10
(1.02)
17.18
(1.36)
12.26
(0.47)
17.07
10.17
(0.65)
(1.8)
13.11
(0.4)
Avg.
Betweeness
Centrality
1.28
(0.26)
3.74
(0.21)
0.56
(0.13)
0.68
(0.25)
0.23
(0.06)
0.40
(0.11)
0.19
(0.03)
1.21
(0.21)
0.33
(0.03)
93
Avg. Total (in Blocks)
Block
Total
Pearson Chi-Square
Asymp. Sig. (2-sided)
Block
V.1
V.2
V.3
V.4
V.5
V.6
V.7
V.8
V.1
V.2
V.3
V.4
V.5
V.6
V.7
V.8
0.189
0.004
0.007
0
0
2
2
10
1
81
1
97
Non U.S.
2
1
1
14
8
20
77
1
124
0.000
New Orleans
Swing
0.004
9
2
4
3
20
17
133
12
200
Bop
0.001
1
2
7
0
17
4
76
3
110
0.070
Hard Bop Cool
0
0
4
0
10
2
49
3
68
1
0
2
1
7
2
40
0
53
0.495
Period V: Number of Leaders Classified under selected Dichotomic Variables
0
0
4
0
10
0
28
0
42
0.001
Soul
0
0
0
0
1
0
7
0
8
0.938
Free Jazz
0
0
0
1
0
0
6
0
7
0.737
Fusion
0
1
0
0
0
0
8
1
10
0.034
Latin/World
Percentage on total number of leaders in each block (Yellow, Bold Italic: above average)
AfricanDesc.
Female
Non U.S.
New Orleans
Swing
Bop
Hard Bop Cool
Soul
Free Jazz Fusion
Latin/World
22%
0%
0%
22%
100%
11%
0%
11%
0%
0%
0%
0%
100%
0%
0%
33%
67%
67%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
33%
58%
0%
17%
9%
36%
64%
36%
18%
36%
0%
0%
0%
22%
6%
11%
20%
0%
0%
7%
0%
0%
0%
93%
7%
54%
15%
21%
20%
50%
43%
25%
18%
25%
3%
0%
0%
18%
3%
3%
63%
53%
13%
6%
6%
0%
0%
0%
0%
37%
7%
28%
30%
52%
30%
19%
16%
11%
3%
2%
3%
33%
20%
7%
7%
80%
20%
20%
0%
0%
0%
0%
7%
37%
7%
23%
29%
47%
26%
16%
12%
10%
2%
2%
2%
0
0
0
1
7
1
20
3
32
Female
2
3
7
4
26
6
106
5
159
AfricanDesc.
Table 3.11.2
94
3.7.2.6. Period VI (1955-1959)
At the center of the reduced graph on Period VI we observe a prominent position:
Block VI.2. It connects three separate groups: the first is composed by VI.6, VI.8, VI.4 and
VI.1, the second is formed by VI.5 and VI.3 and finally VI.7. Surprisingly, this block is
occupied by only one leader, Woody Herman, an established white American Swing musician
who is now playing Bop and Cool as well. He is one of the oldest musicians in the field (27
years), has a high number of sessions (35) and the highest betweenness centrality. What
different worlds does he connect?
Blocks VI.8, VI.6 and VI.4 tend to combine higher rates of African-Descendent
leaders. VI.4 achieves 58%, in comparison to the field average of 40%. In terms of styles,
leaders in these positions share the taste for Swing, Bop, Hard Bop. In contrast, VI.4 and VI.6
tend to play Cool, Free Jazz and Soul, while leaders at VI.8 gear towards Fusion and
Latin/World.
At Block VI.4 we observe important names in Hard Bop: Art Blakey, Julian
“Cannonball” Adderley, Miles Davis, as well as Bop/Latin leaders like Dizzy Gillespie,
Thelonious Monk, or older Swing leaders like Count Basie. In average, their field age (16.77
versus 18.45) is close to VI.8, although their average session produced is much lower (18
versus 32). It is at this period that Miles Davis records “Kind of Blue”, one of the most
influential records ever released.
VI.6 counts with traditional leaders like Duke Ellington and Louis Armstrong.
Younger and successful leaders pushing the music towards Cool and new experiments are
also present (see above, the “Multiple Revolution in 1959”): Charles Mingus (strongly
influenced by Ellington), John Coltrane , Art Pepper, Abbey Lincoln, Chet Baker,. This is a
block where “West Coast” musicians are strongly represented. It is interesting to observe how
this block resembles VI.4 in field age (16.30 versus 16.77) and average session number (15
versus 18).
Block VI.1 presents unexpressive average session number (15, just above the field’s
average), and its leaders’ average field age is not much higher than the average (16.71 versus
15.21). These are mostly white American men who play Swing, Bop and Cool.
Between these two positions, Block VI.8 represents a bridge. It brings together famous
names in Swing like Benny Goodman, Coleman Hawkins, Gene Krupa and Billy Holiday.
VI.8 would be the dominant block in the whole structure, if VI.2 didn’t play such role. Its
95
eleven leaders have in average 32 sessions produces, and their average field age (18.45) is
second only to VI.2. Also, their average betweenness centrality is the second highest (1.29).
These results are quite surprising for two reasons. First, we would expect that these
old leaders at blocks VI.8 and VI.2 be completely displaced by younger generations. Second,
we would expect younger generations to be cohesive in establishing a dominant core. The
reverse occurs: the young leaders build up separate Jazz worlds, not necessarily based on style
differentiation, but on geographic distance (East and West Coast). What is on stake here is the
hegemony of New York City as the center of Jazz. Also, old leaders are able to provide the
bridge between these two worlds: their prestige allows them to participate in both worlds.
Block VI.7 is the largest block in terms of quantity of leaders. Although it
concentrates 277 leaders (51%), it represents only 31% of all field’s sessions. Moreover, its
leaders presented the lowest betweenness centrality. As a peripheral block, it is surprising that
it is internally cohesive. Some important names are in this Block: Dave Brubeck (Cool
innovator), Ornette Coleman, Sun Ra (Free Jazz innovators), and Horace Silver (Hard Bop
innovator). Brubeck released “Time Out”, a still popular record among Jazz fans, and
Coleman was introducing his first free jazz album (“The Shape of Jazz to Come”).
Most of the leaders who compose blocks VI.3 and VI.5 are not Americans. In terms of
styles played, they tend to converge to the field’s average. VI.5 presented a higher rate of
leaders playing New Orleans/Classic Jazz than the field’s average. In contrast, we observe on
block VI.3 a higher rate of leaders playing Latin/World styles.
In general, it is interesting how well balanced all blocks are in terms of age field and
session number. Especially on the former dimension, the blocks are not too disparate from
each other.
96
Table 3.12.1
Period VI: Selected Statistics per Block (Number of Leaders and Discrete Variables)
Block
VI.1
VI.2
VI.3
VI.4
Total
Number % Leaders number of
of Leaders on Total
Sessions
% of
Sessions
17
3%
258
4%
1
0%
35
1%
18
77
3%
14%
321
1,384
5%
22%
VI.5
5
1%
82
1%
VI.6
134
25%
1,946
31%
VI.7
VI.8
Total
277
11
540
51%
2%
100%
1,968
357
6,351
31%
6%
100%
Avg. Num.
Avg.
Sessions Field Age
15
(1.54)
35
N/A
18
(3.54)
18
16.71
(2.13)
27.00
N/A
12.78
(1.82)
16.77
(1.53)
(0.83)
16
(3.23)
15
(1.29)
7
(0.45)
32
(3.42)
10.40
(1.25)
16.30
(0.77)
14.24
(0.57)
18.45
11.76
(0.53)
(3.53)
15.21
(0.39)
Avg.
Betweeness
Centrality
0.32
(0.04)
3.04
N/A
0.64
(0.21)
0.39
(0.05)
0.34
(0.13)
0.21
(0.03)
0.07
(0.01)
1.29
(0.17)
0.21
(0.02)
97
VI.1
VI.2
VI.3
VI.4
VI.5
VI.6
VI.7
VI.8
VI.1
VI.2
VI.3
VI.4
VI.5
VI.6
VI.7
VI.8
Avg. Total (in Blocks)
Block
Total
Pearson Chi-Square
Asymp. Sig. (2-sided)
Block
0.010
0.000
0.000
2
0
16
3
5
5
96
1
128
Non U.S.
3
0
3
15
2
29
88
2
142
0.035
New Orleans
Swing
0.259
9
1
7
42
2
68
100
6
235
Bop
0.049
7
1
6
28
1
38
52
4
137
0.693
Hard Bop Cool
3
0
6
27
1
40
65
3
145
5
1
3
14
1
29
24
1
78
0.007
Period VI: Number of Leaders Classified under selected Dichotomic Variables
3
0
3
15
0
25
52
2
100
0.965
Soul
0.958
0
0
0
3
0
3
6
0
12
Free Jazz
2
0
0
1
1
4
5
3
16
0.000
Fusion
2
0
2
2
0
4
9
1
20
0.379
Latin/World
Percentage on total number of leaders in each block (Yellow, Bold Italic: above average)
AfricanDesc.
Female
Non U.S.
New Orleans
Swing
Bop
Hard Bop Cool
Soul
Free Jazz Fusion
Latin/World
24%
0%
12%
18%
53%
41%
18%
29%
18%
0%
12%
12%
0%
0%
0%
0%
100%
100%
0%
100%
0%
0%
0%
0%
11%
6%
89%
19%
44%
38%
38%
19%
19%
0%
0%
13%
58%
14%
4%
20%
55%
37%
36%
18%
20%
4%
1%
3%
0%
0%
40%
20%
20%
0%
0%
0%
100%
40%
20%
20%
46%
8%
4%
22%
52%
29%
30%
22%
19%
2%
3%
3%
35%
6%
35%
36%
41%
21%
26%
10%
21%
2%
2%
4%
45%
36%
9%
18%
55%
36%
27%
9%
18%
0%
27%
9%
40%
8%
24%
26%
44%
25%
27%
14%
19%
2%
3%
4%
0
0
1
11
0
11
18
4
45
Female
4
0
2
45
0
62
96
5
214
AfricanDesc.
Table 3.12.2
98
3.7.2.7. Period VII (1960-1964)
Period VII probably presents the most strongly connected structure. At a first glace,
we observe a fully connected (Blocks VII.2, VII.7, VII.4 and VII.3) square and a fully
connected pentagram (VII.2, VII.3, VII.6, VII.8 and VII.1).
Block VII.1 is one of the most important positions in the field, and yet, it is not as
hegemonic as were the dominant blocks in earlier periods. To be sure, its eight leaders have
the highest average session number (38 sessions) and the highest field age (26.38 years). Yet,
their average betweenness is dwarfed by the more central leaders at Block VII.3. They are all
African-American leaders: Budd Johnson, Coleman Hawkins, Duke Ellington, Count Basie,
Etta Jones, J.J. Johnson, Donald Byrd, Nat Adderley. Isolated, but powerful, they play a mix
of already “old” styles like Swing and Bop, with Soul, Free Jazz and Fusion.
In contrast, the six leaders at Block VII.3 occupy a very privileged position. Although
they amass in average a lower number of recording sessions (28 versus 38), their field age
(21.33 years) is very close to VII.1’s and their average betweenness centrality is the highest in
the field. Benny Goodman, Dizzy Gillespie, Ray Charles and Sammy Davis Jr. are among the
leaders in this field41. They are all American leaders, and four out of six are AfricanAmericans. They tend to play Swing, Bop, Soul and Latin. Together with leaders in Block
VII.2, the leaders in this block connect the square with the pentagram.
Compare these blocks with Block VII.8. It is the most numerous block in the field (39
leaders) after the isolated and fragmented VII.5. Most of them are African-American leaders,
and they tend to play Bop, Hard Bop, Soul, Cool and Fusion, shying away from New Orleans
and Swing. They achieved the third place in average sessions number produced, while their
field age is statistically equivalent to the field’s average. At the heath of the Civil Rights
Movement, we find in these block conscious band leaders like Charles Mingus, as innovators
in Soul like Julian “Cannonball” Adderley, Brother Jack McDuff and Stanley Turrentine. It is
surprising to find Stan Getz at this same block, for this is the period when Getz is introducing
Bossa Nova to the Jazz field, and won the Grammy for “Desafinado” in 1963. A possible
explanation could try to describe how Charles Mingus (and other West Coast Hardboppers)
and Stan Getz shared the same resources (west coast musicians) and were led to
differentiation in style later on. In contrast wit the ecological argument that differentiation is
41
If in earlier periods the collocation of Swing and Bop musicians could spur (or occur in tandem with) public
conflict, now these two social groups seem to be integrated under the wider umbrella of “Jazz”. At this period
Gillespie is no longer seen as rebellious. As a matter of fact, he was chosen by the U.S. government to represent
his country abroad. In contrast, the spot light is shifted on the conflict between mainstream jazz and “free-jazz”.
As a consequence, I focus my investigation on where new conflicts emerge vis-à-vis structural changes.
99
preceded by crowding out a niche, we may observe a different movement: Charles Mingus
later shift to free-jazz might have been a move taken in order to differentiate himself from the
more commercial Stan Getz.
Still in the pentagram, we observe Block VII.6, which is also connected to VII.4, in
the connected square. Fifty percent of the eight American leaders in this block are AfricanAmericans. But in comparison to VII.8, they still tend to play Swing more than the field’s
average. In many aspects, but one, they are quite similar to VII.8. They have a relatively high
average session number (19 versus 20), and betweenness centrality (0.75 versus 0.62).
However, their field age is much higher (20.25 versus 16.46). This block includes leaders like
BenWebster, Gerry Mulligan, and SarahVaughan.
Block VII.2 groups only three leaders, Gene Krupa, Lalo Schifrin and Mark Murphy.
These leaders do not have an expressive average number of sessions, nor field age. Yet, their
betweenness centrality (0.95) is second only to Block VII.3. Block VII.2 is connected to
Block VII.7, whose seven leaders together have the second oldest average field age (24.43
years). They are all men, mostly white and American. They present the lowest average
betweenness centrality (0.12) in the field. Nonetheless, their average number of sessions is
higher than the average field. Laurindo de Almeida, Frank Sinatra e Charlie Barnet are in this
position, strongly associated with Swing and Latin/World styles.
There are fifteen leaders at Block VII.4, who present the third highest field age (21.33
years). Like Block VII.7’s, this block’s average number of sessions is relatively higher than
the field’s average (17 versus 9.95), but in contrast, its betweenness centrality is higher than
the field’s average (0.39 versus 0.25). There is a high presence of women, as well as leaders
who play Swing, Cool and Latin. Among them we observe Stan Kenton, who was a Swing
leader. He was famous and controversial for his experiments.
100
Table 3.13.1
Period VII: Selected Statistics per Block (Number of Leaders and Discrete Variables)
Block
VII.1
VII.2
VII.3
VII.4
VII.5
VII.6
VII.7
VII.8
Total
Total
Number % Leaders number of
of Leaders on Total
Sessions
8
3
6
15
461
8
7
39
547
1%
1%
1%
3%
84%
1%
1%
7%
100%
302
38
169
262
3,629
151
104
786
5,441
% of
Sessions
6%
1%
3%
5%
67%
3%
2%
14%
100%
Avg. Num.
Avg.
Sessions Field Age
Avg.
Betweeness
Centrality
38
(15.03)
13
(0.33)
28
(3.28)
17
26.38
(4.66)
18.00
(9.5)
21.33
(3.64)
21.47
(0.04)
(3.78)
(1.53)
(0.07)
8
(0.41)
19
(5.22)
15
(4.82)
20
(1.95)
16.49
(0.46)
20.25
(3.68)
24.43
(1.67)
16.46
9.95
(11.78)
(1.11)
16.99
(9.7)
0.79
(0.23)
0.95
1.43
(0.32)
0.39
0.18
(0.02)
0.75
(0.16)
0.12
(0.04)
0.62
(0.08)
0.25
(0.46)
101
VII.1
VII.2
VII.3
VII.4
VII.5
VII.6
VII.7
VII.8
VII.1
VII.2
VII.3
VII.4
VII.5
VII.6
VII.7
VII.8
Avg. Total (in Blocks)
Block
Total
Pearson Chi-Square
Asymp. Sig. (2-sided)
Block
0.365
0.000
0.001
0
1
0
0
129
0
1
2
133
Non U.S.
1
1
1
0
126
1
1
5
136
0.069
New Orleans
Swing
0.051
4
1
3
9
156
3
6
10
192
Bop
0.066
3
1
3
3
101
2
0
17
130
0.005
Hard Bop Cool
5
1
1
3
152
3
0
24
189
0
0
1
4
55
2
0
6
68
0.485
Period VII: Number of Leaders Classified under selected Dichotomic Variables
3
0
2
0
107
1
0
20
133
0.001
Soul
0.760
1
0
0
0
28
1
0
1
31
Free Jazz
1
0
0
1
16
0
0
4
22
0.487
Fusion
0
0
2
2
20
0
1
1
26
0.033
Latin/World
Percentage on total number of leaders in each block (Yellow, Bold Italic: above average)
AfricanDesc.
Female
Non U.S.
New Orleans
Swing
Bop
Hard Bop Cool
Soul
Free Jazz Fusion
Latin/World
100%
13%
0%
13%
50%
38%
63%
0%
38%
13%
13%
0%
0%
0%
33%
33%
33%
33%
33%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
67%
0%
0%
17%
50%
50%
17%
17%
33%
0%
0%
33%
27%
20%
0%
0%
60%
20%
20%
27%
0%
0%
7%
13%
39%
7%
23%
4%
5%
28%
29%
36%
35%
13%
25%
6%
50%
13%
0%
13%
38%
25%
38%
25%
13%
13%
0%
0%
29%
0%
14%
14%
86%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
0%
14%
79%
13%
5%
13%
26%
44%
62%
15%
51%
3%
10%
3%
43%
7%
24%
25%
35%
24%
35%
12%
24%
6%
4%
5%
1
0
0
3
30
1
0
5
40
Female
8
0
4
4
181
4
2
31
234
AfricanDesc.
Table 3.13.2
102
3.7.2.8. Period VIII (1965-1969)
It is worth recalling that the blockmodeling analysis found the weakest correlation in
this period. That means, on one hand, that our technique for grouping around positions was
not acceptable for this period. On the other hand, it also means that the specialization of
resources was not strong enough to generate distinct blocks. In other words, musicians were
widely shared by leaders. When this occurs, I suggest that the allocation of musicians to
leaders gets closer to an ideal decentralized type, where resource specificity decreases and a
commoditization permits fluidity of personnel. Bearing that in mind, let us analyze its
structure.
The structure at Period VIII brings us back to centralization around a dominant block.
The four leaders at Block VIII.1 present both the highest average session number (33) and
highest average betweenness centrality (1.40). Its average field age is second only to VIII.2
(20.75 versus 21.29 years). They are all American men, and three out of four leaders are
African-Americans. Bop, Hard Bop, Soul, Fusion and Latin are the prevalent styles in this
block. We do not observe Swing nor New Orleans played anymore. Among them, Herbie
Mann and Wes Montgomery were in the spotlight for advancing the Fusion-Rock
experiments.
Compare this block to VIII.2. Although leaders in this block present the highest
average field age (21.29 years), their average session number is just above the field average (8
versus 7.65). Their average betweenness is also not much higher than the field’s average (0.43
versus 0.25, take in account the respective standard deviations). This block is occupied mostly
by American white men, who play Swing and New Orleans in much higher rates than the
field’s average. It is surprising that it has any connection at all with the modernist VIII.1.
Nevertheless, leaders like Stan Getz (who at this period won a Grammy award for his “Girl of
Ipanema”) was able to connect modern and traditional styles.
Better challenge to VIII.1 would be expected to come from VIII.7. Its 27 leaders have
the second highest average session number (14), and yet, it is far below VIII.1’s average. It is
also the second highest in average betweenness (0.86 versus 1.40), although their field age is
just equal to the field average (18.44 years). Most of its members are African-Descendents.
Although the styles played are much closer to the field’s averages when comparing to VIII.1,
we still observe a bias towards Hard Bop and Soul. Dizzy Gillespie, Herbie Hancock and
Clark Terry are among the leaders in this block.
103
Block VIII.8 presents the second highest average field age (20.75), the same of its
neighbor VIII.1. And yet, its average session number and betweenness centrality (respectively
11 and 0.54) are about a third of the numbers achieved by leaders at VIII.1. The eight leaders
at Block VIII.8 tend to be Non-Americans. But in comparison to their isolated and noncohesive counterparts at Blocks VIII.3 and VIII.4, they are cohesive and connected to the U.S.
Jazz world. Nevertheless, there is a clear tendency to play older styles like New
Orleans/Classic Jazz and Swing.
The non-cohesive Block VIII.6, connected to VIII.2, VIII.1 and VIII.7 is the largest
block in the period. It contains 392 leaders (71% of the total), but they produced in average
only 7 sessions. Their average betweenness is just below the field’s average (0.2 versus 0.25)
and their average field age is just above the field’s average (18.54 versus 18.44 years). Due to
the high number of leaders, in almost all styles and demographics it resembles the field’s
averages: above 40% are African-descendents, and they tend to play modern styles. Although
this block could be considered to lump together less successful musicians, we find leaders as
diverse as Miles Davis, Max Roach, Astrud Gilberto, Art Blakey, Benny Goodman, Ornette
Coleman among many other ones. Richard “Groove” Holmes, Julian “Cannonball” Adderley Soul.
In average, Block VIII.5 contains the youngest leaders in the field (8.82 versus
18.44). Although its average session production is above average (13 versus 7.65), it is much
lower than VIII.1’s figure. They tend to be African-descendents, and play Soul and Free Jazz.
In spite of the avant-gardist preference, these leaders are not sectarian, as we observe an
average betweenness centrality of 0.63 (higher than the field average of 0.25). Among the
eleven leaders in this position we will find Archie Shepp, Cecil Taylor, John Coltrane and
Albert Ayler, exponents of Free Jazz.
The isolated and non-cohesive Blocks VIII.3 and VIII.4 present the lowest average
session number in the field (respectively 4 and 5), and the lowest average betweenness
centrality. Yet, leaders at Block VIII.3 present the fourth highest average field age (20.45).
Both VIII.3 and VIII.4 present a high percentage of Non-American leaders who tend to play
older styles like Swing and New Orleans/Classic Jazz. Neverthless, it is remarkable the
higher rate of Free Jazz leaders at VIII.4. Although European leaders were struggling to create
their own version of Free jazz, they did not share sidemen with their American counterparts.
104
Table 3.14.1
Period VIII: Selected Statistics per Block (Number of Leaders and Discrete Variables)
Block
VIII.1
VIII.2
VIII.3
VIII.4
VIII.5
VIII.6
VIII.7
VIII.8
Total
Total
Number % Leaders number of
of Leaders on Total
Sessions
4
17
29
67
11
392
27
8
555
1%
3%
5%
12%
2%
71%
5%
1%
100%
133
140
112
317
146
2,937
369
91
4,245
% of
Sessions
3%
3%
3%
7%
3%
69%
9%
2%
100%
Avg. Num.
Avg.
Sessions Field Age
Avg.
Betweeness
Centrality
33
(6.09)
8
(1.77)
4
(0.63)
5
20.75
(2.32)
21.29
(2.96)
20.45
(2.54)
17.40
(0.12)
(0.63)
(1.42)
(0.02)
13
(3.3)
7
(0.48)
14
(1.18)
11
(2.19)
8.82
(1.52)
18.54
(0.53)
18.44
(1.7)
20.75
7.65
(9.2)
(1.78)
18.44
(10.71)
1.40
(0.45)
0.43
0.13
(0.09)
0.10
0.63
(0.29)
0.20
(0.02)
0.86
(0.19)
0.54
(0.09)
0.25
(0.51)
105
VIII.1
VIII.2
VIII.3
VIII.4
VIII.5
VIII.6
VIII.7
VIII.8
VIII.1
VIII.2
VIII.3
VIII.4
VIII.5
VIII.6
VIII.7
VIII.8
Avg. Total (in Blocks)
Block
Total
Pearson Chi-Square
Asymp. Sig. (2-sided)
Block
0.844
0.000
0.000
0
3
13
35
1
105
1
6
164
Non U.S.
0
14
11
19
0
71
3
3
121
0.000
New Orleans
Swing
0.154
0
5
10
17
0
101
10
4
147
Bop
0.012
2
2
2
11
0
88
10
4
119
0.001
Hard Bop Cool
2
3
4
18
4
161
18
3
213
0
1
2
4
0
48
3
0
58
0.492
Period VIII: Number of Leaders Classified under selected Dichotomic Variables
3
0
3
7
3
110
16
1
143
0.000
Soul
0.000
0
0
3
11
11
40
1
0
66
Free Jazz
2
0
2
5
0
35
4
0
48
0.063
Fusion
1
1
1
1
2
18
4
0
28
0.039
Latin/World
Percentage on total number of leaders in each block (Yellow, Bold Italic: above average)
AfricanDesc.
Female
Non U.S.
New Orleans
Swing
Bop
Hard Bop Cool
Soul
Free Jazz Fusion
Latin/World
75%
0%
0%
0%
0%
50%
50%
0%
75%
0%
50%
25%
24%
6%
18%
82%
29%
12%
18%
6%
0%
0%
0%
6%
28%
7%
45%
41%
37%
7%
15%
7%
11%
11%
7%
4%
28%
4%
52%
28%
25%
16%
27%
6%
10%
16%
7%
1%
0%
9%
0%
0%
0%
36%
0%
0%
73%
27%
100%
18%
43%
8%
27%
19%
26%
23%
42%
13%
29%
10%
9%
5%
81%
4%
4%
11%
37%
37%
67%
11%
59%
4%
15%
15%
13%
0%
75%
38%
50%
50%
38%
0%
13%
0%
0%
0%
42%
7%
30%
22%
26%
21%
38%
10%
26%
12%
9%
5%
0
1
2
3
0
31
1
0
38
Female
3
4
8
19
8
167
22
1
232
AfricanDesc.
Table 3.14.2
106
3.8. Discussion
The MRQAP analyses give us a sense of how the field changed. It is against these
trends that we compare the results in the blocks.
As a general trend, the preference for leaders with similar field age and number of
sessions decrease in time, which may be interpreted as a lower level of centralization among
top leaders. Nevertheless, the preference for partners with “equal power” never vanishes.
Instead, the element of “race” changes significantly within this period. If during the
“Jim Crow” era success was linked to ascribed characteristics, the Bop revolution reinforced
two phenomena: mobility and endogamous association of African-decedent leaders, which
was frequently, interpreted as a “Crow Jim” phenomena (LOPES, 2002). Nonetheless, as we
observed at Table 3, this effect loses much of its strength when we added the “style” matrices,
which denotes that “racial” preference was intermediated by style preference.
It is also worth noting the periods when the field experiences turning points. Period IV
announces a change: as style dissimilarity becomes slightly positive and significant, we
interpret that leaders seek leaders who are not originally affiliated with their own styles. But
at the same time, the African-American endogamy increases. We observe at this period the
Bop revolution that occurred in the inner core of the Jazz world. Young African-American
sidemen who were tightly connected to Swing leaders become leaders themselves and
introduce the new style in the core of the network. This revolution is felt on Period V: leaders
seek leaders who have different field age and lower (or higher) number of sessions. The
example of Coleman Hawkins is illustrative of this change: some old and established Swing
leaders seek to adapt themselves to the new times.
A new point of inflection comes at the Period VII. Again leaders associate with
leaders with different field age and level of sessions produced, which denotes an interchange
between prominent and up-coming leaders. Also, this is the period when white endogamy
finally approaches zero. But most important is the fact that the difference in betweenness
centrality lost its significance. This does not mean that the actors are equally connected and
have similar betweenness centrality. Instead, that means that the association is not ruled by
“star” structure logic as it was in earlier periods.
At Period VIII the significance of the betweenness centrality difference becomes again
significant and positive, which may characterize a return to equilibrium. But we observe a
quite different picture in comparison with earlier periods. The Neither-African Descendent
factor becomes negative (which is strongly intermediated by Style affiliation, as we observe
107
on Table 3). Style dissimilarity becomes negative in period VIII (Table 2, although becomes
positive when we account the styles individually at Table 3). The affiliation to styles becomes
an important explanatory factor for association.
In summary:
•
The preference for association with leaders of same age at the field and same
level of production (or market share) decreases but never disappears
•
The “Jim Crow” effect becomes less significant for association. Instead, we
observe a rising endogamy among African-Descendent leaders and exogamy
among non-African-Descendent leaders.
•
These effects become highly intermediated by style endogamy.
It is against these trends that we now discuss the results observed among and within
blocks.
A centralized structure remains apparent from period I to period IV. At Period I, block
I.1 is dominant in field age, number of sessions produced and betweenness centrality. It is at
that block that Benny Goodman introduces innovations in Swing that led him to the famous
Carnegie Hall concert in 1935. Period II follows closely this model with some interesting
deviations. II.1 is the dominant block, but it has not the highest field age. Nevertheless, the
position with the highest field age is II.7, occupied by only one individual. Also, we see now
Louis Armstrong in the dominant block (II.1), which shows some social mobility, especially
crossing racial boundaries. Nevertheless, a Paretian follower would not be surprised with this
finding: it is important for the incumbent elites to absorb some of the most talented
individuals from the lower strata, in order to contain conflicts. Yet, the structure is clearly
centralized and the “racial” segregation is observable within blocks. Period III is again clearly
centralized. III.4 has the highest average session production, field age and betweenness
centrality. However, III.7 shows a motility effect of leaders, like Louis Armstrong, and
competition with same resources with up-coming boppers. The meeting at the same social
space of individuals who descended from upper strata, with individuals who are ascending to
better positions promises future conflicts but at the same time interchange of ideas42. Finally,
Period IV has still a dominant structure. Block IV.1 is the dominant position: the average
sessions number is much higher than other blocks, statistically its leaders are as old as the
oldest (IV.4) and its average betweenness centrality is the highest (1.97). It combines leaders
42
It is believed that Jazz was born in similar conditions: as the Creole (free men, descendents of AfricanAmericans and French descendents in Louisiana) lost their social status and were forced to live with former
slaves. The cultural interchange between the two groups mingled together Blues roots (from the slaves) with
orchestral elements (from the Creole) to create the predecessors of jazz (Rag Time, Boogie-Woogie).
108
from III.7 and III.4, and now the conflict between boppers and traditional leaders is open in
the air. At the same time that Armstrong performs a return to his New Orleans roots by
innovating in that style, Gillespie and Parker introduce Bop innovations at the core. As
Collins (2000) suggests, frequently many relevant innovations are not introduced by new
comers, but by incumbents afraid of losing their position. In contrast with Kadushin (2004a),
conflict is not preceded by fragmentation among blocks. On the contrary: conflict is stronger
exactly among those leaders who share the same resources and because of that are placed in
the same block43. This confirms Blau’s insight that conflict stems from interaction (BLAU,
1977). This is a period when conflict reveals some core latent values within the Jazz
community: both Trad and Bop musicians agree on reinforcing the worth of a professional
career in Jazz. Both look for Jazz’s original roots: while Trad musicians recover the collective
improvisation and typical voicing from New Orleans, Bop musicians stress the solo
(individual) improvisation and dissonant scales. Nevertheless, Charlie Parker is deeply
influenced by the Blues, and that affects his music and his followers’. As a new moral order
emerges, new deviants are regarded with suspicion. Miles Davis’s association with Mulligan
at the “Birth of the Cool” yields a sound too close to Harry James’s: a vibrato too far from the
African tradition. He introduces what will become a predecessor of cool in a peripheral block.
It is also, nevertheless, an attempt of a young leader to dissociate himself from his former
leader: Charlie Parker.
In the Period V, Bop is no longer a fad. V.2 (where we observe Gillespie, Parker and
Eldridge) is the dominant block in average number of sessions and betweenness centrality.
But the leaders are significantly younger than other blocks. One may suspect that the
emergence of Bop as a new paradigm (DEVENAUX, 1997) places the Bop masters where the
Swing leaders were before them. Thus, although the style changed, the field’s structure is still
centralized. Nevertheless, the centralization occurred during the war (DEVENAUX, 1997) is
counterbalanced by a post-war migration to West Coast cities. Period V also shows the
emergence of the Cool style with the Modern Jazz Quarter and Gerry Mulligan at a peripheral
43
The temptation at this point is to give in to a functional analysis of social differentiation. A functionalist
(durkheimian, and later ecologists’) interpretation would follow this rationale: crowding out leads to competition
for the same resources, which leads to social differentiation, as actors look for new niches. However, these
phenomena might be described from the creation of discourses and the underlying legitimacy of style affiliation.
From this perspective, I rephrase my interpretation along the lines: a hegemonic style constraints differentiation,
which leads to crowding out of central positions. Conflict emerges as social actors’ habitus are no longer able to
interpret their new social reality (scarcity of resources previously abundant). New niches are created as
rebellious actors generate new discourses that at the same time create novelty and articulate with the core values
in the field. These processes occur almost in parallel, robbing the causality explanation from the ecologists: new
niches are above all new discursive places.
109
block (V.5). In another peripheral block (V.3) Clifford Brown develops his Hard Bop style. If
at Period IV both conflicting styles (Trad and Bop) where in the same block, now the
conflicting styles (Hard Bop and Cool) are in separate blocks, but intermediated by the
dominant V.2. This intermediation is also a “linguistic” intermediation: in a genealogical
analysis, Bop antecedes both Cool and Hard Bop. Thus, it is not surprising that V.3 and V.5
are peripheral to V.2. These are stylistic differentiations from the same root: Bop.
Period VI brings signals of change: Woody Herman is central to the field, at Block
VI.2. He has the highest filed age, highest average number of sessions, and the highest
betweenness centrality. To be sure, this finding is counter-intuitive: Woody Herman was at
that period an established Swing leader who incorporate Bop elements in his music. How was
he able to conquer this position? As DeVeaux (1997) shows, Herman was able to record Bop
before Gillespie44, which gave him a better position in the field. In addition, the increasing
tensions among younger leaders created a void in the core of the field. I offer the
interpretation that when a conflict becomes disruptive, the empty space among the contending
parties is occupied by a third party, who is able to bridge them. Herman occupied it. This
interpretation would be supported by Simmel’s intuituion on the tertius gaudens (SIMMEL,
1950), Burt’s (1992) concept of structural hole. But my question goes beyond the social
network intermediation: I am concerned in asking how an actor is able to perform a brokerage
between the two opposite sides, when both exert pressures on the third party to take sides. In
other words, I am concerned in identifying how the third party is able to sustain the legitimacy
of that position. I propose that as young leaders depleted their legitimacy through predatory
struggle, older leaders (like Herman) who have their reputation intact are able to bridge the
contending parties. But who are the contending parties at this period? Gioia (1997) refers to a
“fragmentation” in the Jazz world. Szwed gives us the picture of “multiple” revolutions.
Throughout this turbulent period we observe leaders developing Jazz in very different
directions: Miles Davis advanced his modal style with “Kind of Blue”, Coltrane departed
from Davis’s band to develop his own style, exemplified in “Giant Steps”. It was also the
moment when Ornette Coleman recorded “The Shape of Jazz to Come”, in the forefront of
Free Jazz. Charles Mingus was going in a very counterintuitive direction: he recovered Bop
elements and combined them to a novel Swing orchestration.
All these leaders were
positioned at peripheral blocks. Also, in the forefront of Hard Bop we observe Art Blakey and
Horace Silver at a peripheral block: VI.7. (it is uncohesive block, whose link to VI.2 is
44
See Chapter 4 on Trajectory for an analysis on Herman’s trajectory as distinct from Gillespie’s.
110
unidirectional – see Table 4). Below VI.2, all blocks have average session production much
lower and closer to the field’s average.
The reorganization in
the field continues through Period VII. VII.1 is the most
prominent block, but we should suspect that it is not dominant. To be sure, it presents the
highest session number (38) and highest field age (26.38), but is not the central in terms of
betweenness centrality (0.79). Compare this figures to Period IV’s block IV.1’s statistics. The
latter presented in average 65 sessions produced. It is not only the sheer absolute number, but
the relative number in comparison to the second in the list. While VII.7 presents an average
session number of 24.43 (8% lower than VII.1), IV.8 presents an average session of 41 (35%
below IV.1!). Now, compare the field average in both periods: Period IV had in average 12.9
sessions, while Period VII presented 16.99. I hope these are enough evidences the Period IV
was more centralized (in terms of sessions) than Period VII. Another important insight here is
that the most central block in the network is not necessarily the one that yields the higher
number of sessions anymore. To be sure, Period VII is also a period of absolute decline in
number of sessions (see chart 2). As a consequence, boundary-spanning actors at the fringe of
the Jazz world might be able to bring fresher ideas and new influences. The grammy recipient
Stan Getz, who was one of the Jazz leaders who brought Bossa Nova to the Jazz world was
not in the center, but in the periphery - Block VII.8. In the same Block (VII.8), we observe
Brother Jack McDuff and Stanley Turrentine developing a Soul version of Jazz.
Before proceeding to the analysis of Period VIII, it is worth noting a word of caution.
Table 5 and Table 6 show very little fit between the block model results and the expected
image matrix. To be sure, VIII.1 is a candidate for a dominant block. It presents a high
average number of sessions (33) and relatively high betweenness centrality (1.40). Also, its
average field age is high (20.75 years) but it is not the highest. It suggests that at Period VIII
the field is rearticulated, in comparison to Period VII. But this articulation is far from the
concentration in the first periods of this analysis. The features of a decentralized field are still
present. Miles Davis recorded “Bitches Brew”, an innovative Fusion album, at a non-cohesive
peripheral position - VIII.6. In the same block, Soul leaders like Richard "Groove" Holmes
and Julian “Cannonball” Adderley are located. Leaders engaged in the Free style are located
at a cohesive block, but still peripheral VIII.5.
When we return to the ideal types proposed above, and compare the evolution of the
jazz field, we are able to assess (1) the models seem to fit our empirical findings and (2) to
understand the process underlying a change between these models. Following, the confirming
evidences that support the proposed ideal-types.
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Social network structure: while in the first four periods the field presented a
centralized structure, with one or few dominant blocks, later periods (especially on Period VII
and onwards) presented a decentralized structure, where blocks were highly interconnected.
Source of Innovations: During Periods I to IV, innovations (Swing and early Bop) are
mostly introduced by central actors. This trend is slowly reversed in later Periods: Cool and
Hard Bop are introduced in blocks connected to dominant players. When we arrive to Period
VIII, we observe Fusion at the fringes of the social network.
Profile of dominant leaders:
in early periods, we generally observe a coupling
between field age, number of sessions and betweenness centrality. Dominant leaders tended to
combine these characteristics. It doesn’t mean, however, that old musicians were always
dominant. King Oliver, one of the innovators in the Early jazz style, is placed in the peripheral
strata in the Jazz world, as Swing achieves success. Yet, as we advance in the history of Jazz,
we observe that dominant players become younger. The most important example is the
emergence of Gillespie and Parker. The decoupling of variables shows interesting
phenomena: old players may introduce innovations at the peripheral positions of the social
network.
Homogeneity and Stability of Styles: the sheer fragmentation of styles depicted at
Chart 2 shows the decline of the Swing paradigm. In its place, Bop seemed to be an
alternative paradigm, but it was quickly overshadowed by its heirs (Cool and Hard Bop). The
same cycle is observed again, with the emergence of Free jazz, Soul and Fusion. The style
fragmentation becomes more accentuated, and the permanence shorter.
Types of Isomorphism. DiMaggio and Powell (1983) suggested three types of
isomorphism (coercive, normative, and mimetic) as competing mechanisms of diffusion
within fields. The way I explored this three mechanisms was indirect: I first linked the styles
to their legitimate sources and then, by analyzing both the evolution of the institutional
spheres and the evolution of styles I inferred the prominence of one or another mechanism.
We may observe that the shift from Swing to Bop and finally to Fusion marks a change in the
fields meta logics, which favor first coercive mechanisms from the recording industry, then
the normative body of musicians and finally the mimetic processes of absorbing external
influences.
When we turn to the transition process between these two models, some interesting
findings propose it is possible further development in the original model.
First, we observe that declassed Swing leaders at Period III meet the up-coming Bop
leaders in the same social network position. This interaction might have spurred competition
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for the same resources in the same block, as old and young leaders compete for the same
sidemen. This seems to contradict Burt (1987), for leaders structurally equivalent are not
pursuing the same style, but antagonist styles. I interpret this in the following way. First, we
observe an ecological competition for resources, as old and young leaders compete for the
same resources. This competition among leaders is transformed in a competition among forms
(Bop and New Orleans jazz). The legitimacy clash around these two styles brings, in a first
moment, the emergence of common values: jazz is linked to African roots, it is characterized
by improvisation (collective or solo) and is linked to the construction of a solid career. As a
result, the similarity between Boppers and New Orleans leaders was not at the form level, but
on the underlying value level. This increase in the legitimacy of both styles is due to the
emergence of values that serve both purposes. In that sense, the conflict between them
generated positive outcomes for both. At Period IV, both bop (Gillespie and Parker) and
traditional leaders (like Louis Armstrong) are located at the core. As Baum and Oliver suggest
(1996), the increased legitimacy of forms might compensate for the increasingly crowding
effect.
At Period VI, the clash among leaders pushing to different directions was not
concurrent on finding latent values in the Jazz paradigm. On the contrary, the emphasis was
on the emergence of individuality and pluralism. At first, this new ethos emerged in
opposition to the establishment of the Jazz canon. Critics would ask “where is Jazz going”. At
this transition point, older and well positioned leaders like Woody Herman were able to
bridge contending parties. But unless the central actor is able to seize power and establish his
own paradigm as dominant45, his position will be hardly sustainable in the long run. Elworth
(1995) shows that the sixties and seventies were the decades when “teleological”
interpretations on Jazz were dropped and the value of pluralism emerged. No longer only one
paradigm would rule the field, as internal dissent and external influences flourished across the
Jazz world.
At this point, it might be worthwhile to discuss whether the plurality value emerged
before or in tandem with the field decentralization46. A facile answer in the Jazz evolution
would be to assume that both, decentralization and emergence of new values occur in tandem.
However, we should ask whether the split in different styles would be possible without the
45
We observe this shift from a advantaged social network position to an advantaged political and coercitive
position in the emergence of the Medici family (see Padget and Ansell, 1993).
46
This discussion touches a central debate between Simmel and Weber (SWEDBERG, 2005). While Weber
understood the emergence of values as a major driver of social change (WEBER, 1950), Simmel stressed that
changes in social forms (e.g. changes in a social network structure) led to changes in values. On the first page of
“Economy and Society” (WEBER, 1978) we observe a criticism to Simmel’s approach.
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conflict observed on Period IV. We may speculate whether Jazz musicians would remain in
the same world if the discussion on “what is jazz” never happened.
3.9. Conclusions
When we observe the transition between a centralized to a decentralized field, an array
of questions emerges. First, what did we learn with the transition path? Second, what are the
limits of the decentralization trend?
Becker (1998) proposes that we deal with the ideal-types’ unbundled features when
we describe the underlying processes within the transition between them. The features that I
chose to perform this analysis are the homogeneity/heterogeneity of styles and the
centralization and decentralization of the network. Below, I depict a schematic framework of
Homogeneous
Heterogeneous
these two dimensions:
Open-conflict
field:
• Normative
isomorphism
Decentralized
field:
• Mimetic
isomorphism
Centralized
field:
• Coercitive
isomorphism
Centralized Network
Decentralized
Network
Schema 3.3: Transition Path between Types of Fields
Source: Author’s proposal
When we observe Periods I to III, we observe Swing overcoming New Orleans and
Classic Jazz. This ecological process depicts a substitution of one dominant paradigm by
another. At Period IV, we observe both the recovery of New Orleans and Classic Jazz under
the revivalist auspices and the emergence of Bop. To be sure, the Jazz field is still centralized,
but the increasingly heterogeneity of styles leads the field to a conflictive competition and
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discussion of legitimacy. Periods V and onwards (especially VII and VIII) depict a field
where decentralized structure occurs in tandem with a fragmentation of styles.
The centralization and decentralization of the network occurs in tandem with the
evolution of the Jazz musicians’ perspective. During the centralized period musicians are
focused inward the field: success comes with alignment with the industry’s requirement or
with the professional body’s imposition. The institutionalization of an industry requires the
institutionalization of a professional body. As this professional body strives for autonomy,
internal sources of legitimacy emerges (BOURDIEU, 1993b). The increase in autonomy
reinforces the inward tendencies in the field. Paradoxically, professional socialization and
ethos might evolve in conflictive ways, which leads to the polarization and weakening of the
professional authority. As the (professional) normative authority is relaxed, a more outward
perspective emerges. It is possible to introduce influenced from outside the field without
threatening the survival of Jazz. To be sure, this transition is not smooth. There is no
assurance that crises will lead to emergence of more cosmopolitan values, and that the
fragmentation of forms will not lead to the fragmentation of the social tissue47. But as Coser
(1966) suggested, the absence of conflicts might be indicative of a moribund community.
47
Again we face a classic discussion. Toennies perceives individualism as a threat to a community, due to
intestinal conflicts. In contrast, Weber and Simmel stress that conflict doesn’t lead to fragmentation, but
reinforces values (SEGRE, 1998).
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4. Careers in the Right Beat: U.S. Jazz Musicians’ typical and non-typical trajectories
Abstract
Recent research has shed light on career trajectories outside enclosed organizations
and linked individual careers to institutional fields. This article explores the careers of Jazz
musicians, and builds a typical career path. Career stages and turning points deal with a high
degree in risk and uncertainty related with resource allocation decisions, both at the individual
and the band’s level. In addition, this paper contrasts two non-typical career paths and
explores how these musicians were able to sidetrack from the typical path. Changes in the
normative institutions of the jazz field explain why musicians were able to conduct nontypical trajectories and switch resource allocation logics.
4.1. Introduction
Organizational fields and individuals’ trajectories are thought to be co-constitutive. At
the same time that fields constraint individuals’ trajectories (BOURDIEU 1993a), individual
action impacts its surrounding field’s functioning (DIMAGGIO, 1988). Research on careers
and individual action as embedded in fields, rather than enclosed in organizations has been
vastly explored in the research in the last years (BOURDIEU, 1993b, FLIGSTEIN, 1997).
This investigation has brought a range of insights on how actors proceed in order to survive
and advance their interests. As a consequence, it has been possible to derive normative
directions from exemplar individual action (FAULKNER, 1983; PETERSON ; WHITE,
1979; JONES 2002).
In artistic fields, such normative institutions are expressed in several ways. Industry
conventions, like the time length of a music record or the content of contracts between
musicians and recording companies shape the creative action (BECKER, 1974, 1983). Styles
also embody not only a way of playing, but also the ethos of those artists affiliated to it
(GREENFELD, 1989). Formal and informal professional organization dictates how
newcomers are recruited and advance in their careers (FAULKNER, 1983). Conversely,
individual action may shape normative institutions (DIMAGGIO, 1991, Peterson and Anand,
2002). In sum, research has a twofold approach for this subject: how individuals conform to
fields in order to attain success, or how individuals change institutions in order to achieve
their goals.
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My objective through this article is to explore a middle ground between these two
approaches. By exploring the biographies of several Jazz musicians, I build a typical career
path and show the institutional grounding of each stage. Rather than depicting a deterministic
path, I consider the role of uncertainty and risk along one’s trajectory. Following this initial
construction, I will present Coleman Hawkins’s and Ornette Coleman’s biographies, who
didn’t follow the typical career path, but were, nonetheless, successful. I will show that their
success was partially due to important institutional changes in the field. Their action
(intentionally or not) was instrumental to such changes.
4.2. Artists’ Careers and art Fields
Menger (1999) describes the competition among successful artists as a “monopolistic
competition”, where one’s value stems from its uniqueness. In a tentative model, Menger
depicts new artists as trying to establish a public persona, while established artists had their
talents already recognizes. Following this schematic model, an artist’s career would
correspond to one’s talent development and recognition. If talent were exogenous to the art
field and information perfect, demand and supply should reach equilibrium. In this model,
there would be no oversupply of artists. This model would be also consistent with the
resource-based view and human capital perspectives (WRIGHT; SMART; MCMAHAN,
1995, KAMOCHE, 1996). These perspectives would advocate that musicians should develop
their public persona to be rare and hard to imitate. The scarcity of these resources should lead
to competitive advantage. However, as Menger points in his review, talent recognition is not
exogenous to the artistic field. In contrast, the concept of reputation as a social construct
emerges as more realistic. In addition, information is not perfect, as artistic trends are hardly
predictable (HIRSCH, 2001). Finally, one’s action depends on other individuals’ action. As a
consequence, resource deployment assumes a relational dimension not entirely captured in the
RBV and human capital perspectives.
I argue that a resource based view should be complemented with Bourdieu’s
conception of field. For Bourdieu, a field is a social space where individuals deploy their
resources (generally economic, cultural, social and symbolic). At the individual level, the
habitus corresponds to the interpretative schemata constructed along one’s trajectory. These
interpretative schemata explain why different individuals make distinct trade-offs among
diverse kinds of capital and deal differently while facing risk and uncertainty. At the field
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level, successful individuals perform timely conversions among capitals (or resources). At the
same time, the possibility of conversion is constrained by the field’s normative institutions.
In tandem with his broad “field-habitus-practice” framework, Bourdieu (1993b) offers
a simpler model for art field dynamics. He suggests that incumbent musicians and recording
industry players together in a coalition against new entrants. Within this model, younger
musicians are expected to introduce new styles in the field, in order to amass symbolic capital
not attainable though the established styles. Because large recording companies are resistant
to change, the former will record with smaller and fringe labels. Conversely, new magazines
will support new musicians and their styles. As a new style becomes institutionalized, their
defendants will move from a dominated position to a hegemonic one. Once at a dominant
position, incumbent actors will succumb to inertial forces that will lead them to conservative
behavior towards newness. Finally, conflict among new entrants and incumbent musicians
will create a dialectic among generations (PETERSON, 1997) that constitutes a major source
of institutional change in the field48.
Bourdieu’s model suggests that established musicians are typecast in a given style.
The way a new musician is recruited, introduced to the field and advances in his trajectory
may be object of appraisal by his peers, record critics and producers (FAULKNER, 1983). As
a result, career trajectories are enacted and institutionalized by field’s members. Following the
same logic, new actors might try to replicate successful past trajectories (EMIRBAYER ;
MISCHE, 1998). Among the possible institutionalized practices, we may observe typecasting
as an entry cost for entering and surviving in a field (ZUCKERMAN, 2003). Yet, established
musicians might move towards innovation and cut loose from their stereotypes. The reasons,
tactics and outcomes linked with this movement have to be analyzed against the opposing
institutional barriers.
In the following session I propose in broad strokes a typical pattern of successful
musicians in the Jazz field. In addition to this typical path, I will contrast the deviances
around such pattern. Deviance and its correspondent sanction are likely to assess the
robustness of this career path. These contrasts may constitute just variance around a norm. As
a deviance, the sanction against it will reinforce our belief in the robustness of the
institutionalized career track. Alternatively, deviances might be functional to the field’s
working. For instance, mavericks might be seen as exotic counterparts in a field as avantgarde artists still share tacit conventions and norms with mainstream players (BECKER,
48
I claim that this is a simpler model, for Bourdieu underplays the role of habitus towards a more deterministic
conception of social allocation of new entrants.
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1982, BOURDIEU, 1977). Finally, such deviances might also constitute genuine movements
towards change in the field, as they introduce new conventions and open up alternative
strategies.
The raw material for this exercise is the biographies of several renowned Jazz
musicians. Most of these musicians were active from the 1930s to 1970s, in a period when the
Jazz field observed deep changes. From these biographies I extract what is common in their
paths (HEIMER, 2001), the typical stages in musicians’ careers. In addition to the typical
stages, I draw attention to the turning points between these stages (ABBOTT, 2001). We
might understand turning points as the critical events linking different stages. For instance, a
jazz musician enrolled in a local band goes through a turning point when he is hired by a
national band. However, as Abbott suggests, turning points might be understood as the
process surrounding these critical events. Just before being hired by a national band, a jazz
musician might consider dropping the profession to become a post man. When we enlarge our
focus to the process of going through turning points, we are able to shed light on the
uncertainties one faces, and how he deals with them. Abbott’s view on turning points is not
incompatible with Bourdieu’s conception of field. For the latter, a field’s turning point
corresponds to the aggregate individual trajectories’ turning points.
4.3. Typical Career Stages and Turning Points
4.3.1. Introduction to the Field
The Jazz musicians in our time frame started their exposure to the field early in their
lives. Typically, they enrolled in school bands, church choirs and other community
institutions (BERLINER, 1994; for Ornette Coleman’s example, see WILSON, 1999, p. 9)
and attended private classes (e.g. Charles Mingus took classes with Lloyd Reese, see Priestly,
1983, p.11), where they were able to hone their skills and acquire technical knowledge. Older
friends helped in this introduction, as we observe how important was Clark Terry for the
young Miles Davis (SZWED, 2002, p. 19). Upon this initial exposure, they started playing
with local bands and participate in informal gatherings and beginners’ jam sessions (e.g., John
Coltrane, see PORTER, 1999), where they were submitted to informal ranking mechanisms
(DEVEAUX, 1997). The participation in local bands could be followed by the inclusion in a
“territory band”. In a territory band, a musician traveled with his band across several states,
performing for black as well as white only audiences.
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For several poor black teenagers, becoming a musician meant the possibility of
earning an income that wouldn’t be possible to attain by other means (WILSON, 1999, p. 11,
DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 47, SZWED, 2002, p. 20). Frequently, this income was channeled to
support the musician’s family. Also, as a Jazz musician, the prospect of social mobility was
higher in comparison with manual labor opportunities. Moreover, black musicians had few or
no opportunities to fill orchestra positions. Ultimately, a refusal to go to conservatories was
predominant among early jazz musicians. Duke Ellington is known to say that he didn’t find
in formal education what he wanted to learn (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 58). As a consequence, the
choice of becoming a Jazz musician was natural for talented black teenagers. Later
generations of jazz musicians looked for formal musical instruction, although the practice
among them was perceived as more valuable. For instance, in spite of being one of the first
black musicians to enroll in Julliard School’s course, Miles Davis dropped it in order to play
with Charlie Parker’s band. As the Jazz idiom became institutionalized as an art form
(PETERSON, 1972; LOPES, 2002), formal education became highly valued, which we
observe in Wynton Marsalis’s role as the director of Jazz Studies at Julliard.
Several scholars employed a deviance framework in order to explanation why white
teenagers chose to become Jazz musicians (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 207). Also, romantic
feelings towards black culture are invoked as rationale (LOPES, 2002, p. 135). Following this
logic, white young men would choose to become Jazz musicians in order to find a refuge
against mainstream society. The example of Bix Beiderbecke is often cited (DEVEAUX,
1997, p. 49). Nonetheless, black musicians were also thought as deviants, as they came mostly
from Black ghettos. Also, we may find examples of white musicians aiming for social
mobility, as many were children of immigrants (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 59).
4.3.2. Introduction to a National band
Musicians would try to have as much exposure as possible to national bands. Although
local bands gave an opportunity to enter the field, they were rarely recorded (PORTER, 1999,
p. 35) or achieve a national reputation (PORTER, 1999, p. 59). Regional bands could
eventually achieve national status if performed and recorded successfully in New York
(LOPES, 2002, p. 150), but that was a rare event. In contrast, national bands had national
status by traveling across the country and capturing most of the recording opportunities.
Wages were higher than those offered in local bands, and, above all, they gave a chance for
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young musicians to position themselves in the urban hubs of Jazz (Chicago, then New York,
and expanding to Los Angeles).
Traveling bands were a source of novelty and opportunities. Eckstine’s band provided
to Miles Davis his first exposure to bop, when they played in St. Louis (SZWED, 2002, p.
29). They were also a source of opportunities, as young musicians would seek exposure to
national bands by sitting-in at the band’s performances, or just attending to the jam sessions
held after the concerts. If a band liked the up-coming musician, its leader would eventually
invite him to join it, travel along, and move to the city where the band was based. That was
the trajectory of many musicians, including Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie (DEVEAUX,
1997, p. 177). Early in his career at East St. Louis, Miles Davis was invited to join Illinois
Jacquet’s and McKinney’s Cotton Pickers’s bands. Nonetheless, he still lacked skills to travel
with Eckstine (SZWED, 2002, p. 30).
4.3.3. Climbing the Sidemen Hierarchy
A musician’s progression was perceived within distinct but interdependent subsystems. Within the symbolic system, a musician accumulated recognition from audience,
critics and peers. To be sure, although recognition from these different groups was highly
correlated, there was not a perfect fit, which permitted some degree of uncoupling in the
system. Conversely, musicians would shift among bands, while seeking to optimize the tradeoff between better wages, autonomy, job stability, skill acquisition, or aesthetic preferences.
Again, recognition and the shift across bands were correlated, but not tightly coupled.
Following, I will explore how these mechanisms worked and interacted with each other.
Recognition among peers was amassed in two ways: from the musician’s performance
at jam sessions and from one’s string of engagements (as in FAULKNER, 1983, the same
occurs with film composers). A musician “too available” would have lower chances to get the
best opportunities (PORTER, 1999, p. 200). Once at a central hub, like New York, musicians
participated in jam sessions and bands, but now facing the best musicians in the field. Another
name for jam sessions was “cutting session”, where a competitive performance took place.
Famous cutting-sessions include John Coltrane’s victory over Stan Getz in 1956 (PORTER,
1999, p.99) and Lester Young’s victory over Coleman Hawkins in 1933 (DEVEAUX, 1997,
p. 37). Such cutting-sessions were important mechanisms for establishing a hierarchy among
musicians; as such, they were clearinghouse for employment. If a new musician outplayed an
older musician, the field’s symbolic hierarchy was modified. For that reason, even during
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gloomy periods, musicians continued to attend jam sessions in order to maintain the link with
the industry. A good reputation could yield to a skilled black musician the opportunity to
cross racial lines and increase his income substantially (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 259).They were
also important rituals where different groups could challenge each other. At these jam
sessions, musicians learned the tacit codes that were eventually important in small combo
informal coordination and rehearsed the jazz standards. Also, musicians established social ties
that would bring new engagements (gigs) and information. It was also a source of recreation
(DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 207). Most importantly, it staged a passage ritual for beginners.
Humiliation could happen, as we observe in Charlie Parker’s defeat in the Reno Club in
Kansas City.
As in other studies, a musician’s attractiveness is thought to be coupled with the
field’s trends and needs (BECKER, 1982, PETERSON ; WHITE, 1979, FAULKNER, 1983).
As bands started to play more sophisticated jazz pieces in mid-thirties, they started to look for
musicians with a greater degree of musicianship. In this wave, Dizzy Gillespie received the
opportunity to join Cab Calloway’s band in 1939 (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 181).
The survival in such bands depended on whether the musician was reliable and
respected both the band’s internal hierarchy and aesthetic choices. Ornette Coleman “was
fired for trying to teach a fellow saxophonist a bebop number” (WILSON, 1999, p. 12).
Coltrane revealed in an interview: “I stayed in obscurity for a long time, because I just played
what the others expected from me, without trying anything original. I saw so many guys get
themselves fired from a band because they tried to be innovative that I got a little discouraged
from trying anything different!” (cited by PORTER, 1999, p. 88). To fit in a band didn’t mean
necessarily to be conservative, especially after the diffusion of small combos. Miles Davis
was known for insisting with his sidemen to develop their own voices. However, even in these
bands where individuality was promoted, reliability was crucial. Davis fired Coltrane for his
playing being too erratic (PORTER, 1999, p. 107).
Yet, reliability was not sufficient. In several bands, and especially in small combos,
musicians had to fit in the overall aesthetic frame. The pianist Steve Kuhn didn’t fit as
supporter of Coltrane’s solos, which eventually led to his dismissal (PORTER, 1999, p. 176).
In addition, a leader might have a non-expressed preference for a musician that was not
available at the time when the vacancy existed. In the same anecdote, Coltrane possibly
preferred McCoy Tyner to Steve Kuhn, thus, as the former became available, it was easier for
Coltrane to dismiss the later (PORTER, 1999, p. 177).
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Clashes among musicians could lead to one’s dismissal or quitting. Age difference
was one reason for attrition, as in the example of Dizzy Gillespie’s clash with older musicians
at Teddy Hill’s band in 1935 (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 178). Personality disaffection was not
rare, either. The famous fight between Juan Tizol and Charles Mingus at Ellington’s band led
to the dismissal of the later (PRIESTLEY, 1983, p. 50), while Coleman Hawkins and Louis
Armstrong intense rivalry at Fletcher Henderson’s Orchestra led the former to quit the band
and become a freelance soloist. On aesthetical grounds, Elvin Jones and Ali Rashied, both
Coltrane’s drummers, frequently disagreed on stage. As a result, Jones eventually accepted
Duke Ellington’s offer.
Nonetheless, the shifting from one band to another was not only a matter of survival,
as it was an expression of deliberate social attainment in a hierarchical ladder. Within this
ladder, the musician amassed recognition, beyond his affiliation to a given band. In this way,
he would eventually be cited and elected one of the best players of his instrument, and invited
to play for several bands during the same period. At this point, the musician would probably
be able to play with bands that had access to the recording industry. Once he was recorded, a
larger audience had access to his music, and his chances of public recognition increased. The
Miles Davis first record with Charlie Parker as a leader in 1945 was a landmark for the former
(SZWED, 2002, p. 48). As a musician got established as a soloist, he might prefer to launch a
freelancer career. As in the example of Dizzy Gillespie, the freelancer job permitted more
autonomy to improve one’s skills and avoid commitments that would block him from
accepting attractive opportunities. Of course, this freedom came at expense of job stability
(DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 187). One way or another, musicians strived to establish themselves as
unique voices in the market. For instance, John Coltrane was known in his youth to strive for
his own “sound”. “In African-American jazz circles, this is the most valued goal.” (PORTER,
1999, p. 72; see also BERLINER 1994). As the musician became recognized as a unique
musician, his bands’ leaders might incorporate his voice in the band’s compositions. The
coupling of a musician’s unique voice to a band’s overall frame helped to balance the
resource dependency between bandleader and musician. For instance, Dannie Richmond was
“indispensable ingredient of the ‘Mingus sound’” (PRIESTLEY, 1983, p. 75).
Not only prestige explained the shifts among bands, as many musicians privileged
aesthetic and learning opportunities. For instance, Coltrane’s frustration and eventually
quitting from Dizzy Gillespie’s band was due the latter’s increasing insistence to introduce
commercial songs and restrict improvisation in order to make bop acceptable to the large
audience (PORTER, 1999, p. 78). Also, the relationship with the bandleader was an important
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factor. Coltrane compares Miles Davis’s and Thelonious Monk’s styles of communicating and
discussing music. For Coltrane, the later was much more communicative (PORTER, 1999, p.
108).
Finally, conflict over monetary terms led to sidemen’ quitting. One might feel that the
criteria applied in sharing the earnings were unfair. In 1941, Dizzy Gillespie left Coleman
Hawkins, for the later paid only $66 dollars a week, not reaching $75 required by the former
(DEVEUX, 1997, p.290). The same reason explains the leaving of Howard McGhee from
Hawkins’s band (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 406) and Miles Davis from Charlie Parker’s band
(SZWED, 2002, p. 66). In addition, his compositions might not receive the credits he believes
he deserves (as Monk didn’t receive from Coleman Hawkins, DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 403).
4.3.4. The Launching of a new bandleader
Prestigious sidemen might not only amass public recognition (e.g. PORTER, 1999,
p.141 on Coltrane, SZWED, 2002, p. 63 on Miles Davis), but also develop, under the auspices
of his bandleader, original compositions. Also, he might start developing with his band peers
new ways of playing. At some point, he might feel confident enough to initiate his own band
(e.g. PORTER, 1999, p. 132, on Coltrane). This confidence might also be complemented with
attrition with his band’s leader, as shown in the previous section. Also, as many of his band
mates established their own bands (as PORTER, 1999, remarks on Coltrane in late 1950s), the
musician faced peer pressure to start his own. Finally, new leaders might be born out of
unemployment. DeVeaux suggests that if Parker and Gillespie had found steady stream of
gigs at the Eckstine’s band in mid-forties, perhaps they wouldn’t be compelled to found their
own bands49 (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 363).
The transition to become a leader could be slow, as the new leader would start
recording albums under his name while participating as a sideman in other bands. Hawkins
recorded under his name while still with the Fletcher Henderson’s band (DEVEAUX, 1997, p.
76). In 1957, Coltrane was at the same time recording his own albums and playing with Miles
Davis. By 1961, Coltrane was able to sign a very attractive contract with Impulse, which
granted him high artistic autonomy, and a sizeable yearly advance of twenty-five thousand
dollars (PORTER, 1999, p. 191).
49
DeVeaux believes that if they didn’t establish their bands, the creation of bop might never happen. The same
idea is in Peterson, 1972. Peterson defends that the lack of resources led young musicians to gear Jazz towards
avant-garde, leaving the pop segment to R&B and eventually Rock-‘n’-Roll.
124
To be sure, a new leader could attempt to just mimic his former leader or competitors.
However, in several cases mimicking was not an available option. New leaders had to strive
for innovation in order to achieve distinction from his precedent leaders, which was
invaluable for his gig string. Until Miles Davis recorded Birth of the Cool, he was widely
recognized as a Parker’s former sideman (SZWED, p. 144).
A new leader striving for innovation usually assembled musicians that were unique in
their way of playing. Duke Ellington was known for composing pieces having in mind the
uniqueness of his sidemen. Charles Mingus found in Eric Dolphy a distinct voice for his
group (PRIESTLEY, 1983, p.109). A leader’s sidemen had to be like-minded in risk-taking
and experimenting towards the creation of a new way of expressing themselves. For that
reason, the ideal line-up of desired musicians might not happen at once, since many of them
might have other commitments or just blocked from playing, due to arrest or cabaret license
lost (on Thelonious Monk example, see GOURSE, 1997). Also, very talented and at the same
time reliable musicians could be costly and frequently unavailable. As a consequence, new
leaders frequently faced trade-off decisions. By mid-forties, Thelonious Monk was well
recognized as a talented musician, but few saw him as a dependable musician. Coleman
Hawkins hired Monk when nobody else would risk doing so (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 322).
We would typically expect the leader to bring most of the compositions to the new
group. Hence, it was critical to accumulate compositions before launching the new band.
Also, the leader was usually the best improviser in the group (SZWED, 2002, p. 263). On the
other end of business, the leader strived to get recording and performance engagements to the
group.
The odds to become an established leader depended on his ability to put together all
these elements. Failure to bring revenues would lead the sidemen to seek for opportunities
outside the group. A new band required time to be “up and running”. The musicians had to
learn its repertoire, acquire new arrangements. They had to find comfortable to work with
each other (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 137). However, the stream of gigs might not come as soon
as needed in order to provide enough time to the band settle down. Needless to say, the timing
when the new band was introduced was crucial. Coleman Hawkins set up his big band just
before the Swing’s bubble burst. As a consequence, he saw himself forced to dismiss it few
years later50. Charles Mingus lost several of his sidemen for he was not able to provide
50
The awareness that a speculative bubble may burst didn’t stop agents and producers from launching new big
bands. They provided the initial start-up capital to set-up the band, in order to buy uniforms and assign some
gigs. These initial investments were enough in order to extract some cash from the band’s revenues at some
125
enough gigs (PRIESTLEY, p. 95). The same occurred with Ornette Coleman (WILSON,
1999).
In addition, the lack of originality would lead the band to have low attractiveness in
comparison to existing groups. Conversely, a lack of focus and the mixing too many
influences might confuse the public. Charles Mingus faced such criticism as he tried to find
his own identity: “Mingus, a resolute independent of many faces,… has had a fling at every
trend in jazz that has come along – cool jazz, hard bop, Third Stream, soul jazz, and more
recently ‘all-out’ jazz – yet has failed to make a lasting stylistic impression” (Dick Hadlock,
cited by PRIESTLEY, 1983, p.120).
Finally, the ability to manage and keep the musicians together was a challenge in
itself. Sidemen might turn to be undisciplined or get unproductive habits as drug addictions
(SZWED, 2002, p. 220). If the leader didn’t assume control, the sidemen would require his
leadership (SZWED, 2002, p. 74) or even disband. The organizational structure of the band
could also impact its stability. Cooperative ventures, where musicians shared leadership,
tended to be less stable than those bands where leadership figure was still central
(DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 332). Conversely, recording companies would prefer to sign contracts
with leaders who were able to maintain a steady band. Miles Davis’s lack of a steady band
was a negative factor for Columbia Records in the early fifties (SZWED, 2002, p. 118). The
same discipline the leader expected from the sidemen was also required from the recording
company towards the bandleader. Unreliability and drug addiction were strong negative
factors to Miles Davis reputation with his prospective producers (SZWED, 2002, p. 121).
We may think about innovation in several aspects. It could be simply the introduction
of variation around a given style.
This is exemplified by Coleman Hawkins’s way of
changing chords. Although it was new, his music was still classified under “Swing”.
Conversely, the early boppers experiments on chord progressions were innovations even
before what they were playing received the name “Bop”. Another kind of innovation was the
incorporation of elements foreign to Jazz tradition, but readily identifiable with outside
influences. Examples are many in the Jazz history, from the introduction of Bossa Nova
elements by Stan Getz, to Flamenco elements by Miles Davis. The incorporation of outside
elements was often controversial, for it challenged the borders established between the
community and its neighbors. The change in the field’s conventions was another kind of
highly visible clubs. After these first assignments, the band would see itself jobless. Agents and producers,
having achieved their break-even, would not provide any further funds to the band. On the contrary: the
bankruptcy was desirable, for it would lead to a decrease in competition and the protection of prices which
would benefit the other bands in their portfolios (DeVeaux, 1997, p. 145).
126
innovation. For instance, John Coltrane extended the solo duration to a point beyond a single
LP side possible time limit. Charlie Barnet and Benny Goodman were convention breakers in
a different way. They hired black musicians in a time when sharp racial lines endured
(DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 256). Finally, the founding of a new style, as a new category was
another kind of innovation. Dizzy Gillespie was perceived as creating and insisting on the
label “bop” to promote the style and himself as his creator (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 175).
Whether the new category entailed substantive musical innovation was a matter for discussion
and never free from conflicts among actors in the field. For instance, the West Coast jazz was
perceived by many as just a “marketing” label in order to promote Jazz produced in California
(BERENDT and HUESMANN, 1998, p. 51).
The introduction of innovations was permeated with ambiguous trade-offs and risky
bets. For instance, when Miles Davis assembled the Birth of the Cool group, he hoped that the
new style (precursor of Cool) would be successful, and dismissed invitations to be a sideman,
like Ellington’s. Unfortunately, the group was a flop (SZWED, 2002, p. 79). Miles Davis
faced the risk of newness several times during his career. When he and Gil Evans’s attempted
to introduce European elements to Jazz that was perceived as “too academic, too commercial,
too white” (SZWED, 2002, p. 76). Miles Davis faced repeated negative reactions from critics
for his dove-tailing with the commercial side of the music industry (SZWED, p. 107,
CROUCH, 1990).
Innovations in the group management could find resistance from the sidemen. Many
of Charles Mingus’s original pieces were not written down, which forced his sidemen to cocompose with him on the stage (PRIESTLEY, 1983, p.66). The choice of sidemen was
another risk. Gillespie tried to blend bop and swing by building a big band with several swing
associated sidemen. They were out of sync with the new style (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 414). As
a consequence, this was a failure for Gillespie. Recording industry personnel could help to
match sidemen to leader. That was especially important when “racial” boundaries were still
strong. John Hammond was able to match Benny Goodman and Teddy Wilson. In the same
way, Leonard Feather matched Dizzy Gillespie and Sarah Vaughan with an “all-star” group of
white musicians (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 419).
Leaders who followed the mainstream styles had less difficulty in managing their
sidemen, and experienced lower dependency on their uniqueness. They were able to use many
of the experienced musicians available in the market, instead of specific musicians. This
tendency was reinforced as the leader was able to attract audiences mostly due to his own
musicianship and charisma. This was the case of Lionel Hampton, who established his big
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band offering variable income to his sidemen, instead of guaranteeing a fixed wage. As a
result his expenses were almost all variable (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 156). As big bands
declined, this alternative became more difficult to implement. Cab Calloway was known for
relying on accomplished musicians, not investing in new musicians, in spite of their potential.
Not surprisingly, at the same period, Dizzy Gillespie wanted to invest in new musicians and
develop their talents (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 183). Thus, we can observe a field level tension
between exploration and exploitation of resources (MARCH, 1991).
In spite of all these risks and uncertainty, many new bandleaders endured even when
the prospects looked bleak. The quest for autonomy could surpass the economic risk: “It is
remarkable, in the face of these difficulties, how many prominent black musicians tried to
remain bandleaders when they could have enjoyed a more secure and profitable existence
working as arrangers, or even star soloists, for white orchestras” (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 157).
But why would a musician face such uncertainty in order to introduce a new style?
Economic interest is certainly one possible drive, as we observe Miles Davis move away from
Bop to Cool: “The problem with bebop, [Miles] thought, was that it was not being fully
appreciated and needed to be slowed down to be understood by a broader audience, especially
a white audience” (SZWED, p. 70). Other strategic considerations could see in the innovation
a way of gaining time over potential competitors. However, that worked only as temporary
relief, for any innovation could be eventually copied. DEVEAUX (p. 351) points that the
innovations flowed from black to white musicians, while the latter were not the innovators,
they were better positioned in the recording industry.
Not all successful bandleaders were considered innovators. Charles Mingus frequently
referred in a negative way to leaders who were “impresarios’ construction” (Charles Mingus,
cited by PRIESTLEY, 1983, p. 51). In order to be a successful “copier”, a leader had to
explore a privileged position in the recording industry. For instance, Woody Herman
introduced jam session’s bop innovations into his swing band in mid-forties (DEVEAUX,
1997, p. 357) through Neal Hefti, who learned them from Gillespie. Herman would be
eventually known as one of the first bandleaders to record of bop, although the first bop big
band would be Gillespie’s in 1946 (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 359): “[G]illespie faced new
competition. By 1945 Woody Herman had stole much of Dizzy’s fire. Thanks to hit records
like ‘Caldonia,’ the public was more likely to associate soaring double-time trumpet lines
with the Herman band than with Gillespie, leaving the originator of the style in the
uncomfortable position of apparent imitator (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 433).”
128
4.3.5. Institutionalization of Innovation and Innovator
An innovative bandleader brought to the field novelties that would hopefully be
welcomed by his peers and brokers. The innovator built up his reputation as his innovations
became not only accepted, but also influent and diffused in the field. As a consequence, his
band’s style would become a new institution. For instance, Count Basie’s style was
paradigmatic to Swing (SZWED, 2000, p. 140). Thus, a musician and his works became
“exemplars” in the same sense as Kuhn’s exemplars in science. Louis Armstrong is thought as
an exemplar for the whole Jazz genre (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 73)
Signing with a large recording company could be a signal that the new leader’s style
was in the verge of institutionalization51. Large recording companies were able to produce in
large scale and promote aggressively, increasing the artist’s target audience. Nonetheless, a
trade-off took place. As a leader recorded for a large company, his room for experimentation
decreased substantially, for the recording company’s audience was generally less opened to
surprises than the small companies’ public. Also, the leader had to juggle with past
commitments. When Miles Davis shifted from Prestige to Columbia Records, he faced both
the change in audience profile and the challenge of overlapping contracts (SZWED, 2002, p.
233).
The institutionalization of a new style triggered inertial forces that kept the leader
from innovating. This is the phenomena of typecasting, and may occur independently from
the musician’s consent. If an established leader attempted to change his style in a direction not
expected in the field, he might receive harsh criticism from critics, peers, and audience.
Conversely, the consecration of a leader and his style might be described as the accumulation
of symbolic capital hopefully convertible into a steady stream of economic capital
(BOURDIEU, 1993b). As a consequence, the cost of innovating was usually too high
(FAULKNER, 1983).
Typecasting was strongly related to media promotion. Depending on what records and
tunes were aired and distributed, the audience requested the musicians to perform those tunes
at shows (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 348). Also, as a musician became a renowned leader with a
distinct style, it turned harder to sit-in in other bands. As a consequence, his fate was linked to
the fate of his style, which reinforced the typecast lock-in. When Charles Mingus became a
renowned leader, he deemphasized his “instrumental prowess” in favor of promoting his new
51
Of course that could also signal a temporary fad. See Lawrence, Winn and Jennings (2002) for distinctions
among institutional processes over time.
129
compositions (PRIESTLEY, 1983, p. 88); when he experienced a downturn in gigs, he found
himself unemployable for he was hardly considered as a sideman52. Typecasting could be a
hurdle for a musician’s career. Billy Eckstine was able to explore the “race” market as a
popular singer, but was gradually excluded from other kinds of repertory (DEVEAUX, 1997,
p. 335).
Once a musician public persona became associated with the institutionalization of a
new style, he was compelled to defend it, for the fate of the institutionalized style was deeply
related to his own fate. While bop was associated with drugs, musicians struggle to either not
to affiliate themselves to this label (even if their music is still bop), or counter-attack with
marketing tools (for instance, see Gillespie’s defense of Bebop as part of the Jazz tradition
and not related with drugs; DEVEAUX, 1997).
4.3.6. Style Deinstitutionalization and Leader Decline
Differently from the dynamics among science paradigms, artistic styles are not
entirely displaced by new ones (KUHN, 1977). In modern societies, styles co-exist with each
other, constituting a mosaic at any point of time (SIMMEL, 2004, p. 474). Nonetheless, as
new styles emerged, musicians associated with previously institutionalized styles lost room
for innovators. This occurred for several reasons. First, the older style was not as attractive as
it was in the past, and at the same time younger audience looked for innovations. Second, a
band suffered erosion as it grew older, for ambitious sidemen established their own bands and
the remaining sidemen eventually retired and left the field. At the same way, younger
musicians were socialized to play newer styles. Even if the leader succeeded in attracting new
musicians to the band, he would have little incentive to create new compositions to
incorporate the uniqueness of these new sidemen. Quite the opposite: these new sidemen
would have to “wear the shoes” of those sidemen who left the band and adjust to sound like
them while interpreting the band’s consecrated repertoire. In consequence, these new
sidemen’ skills were underutilized in the band, which effected in their frustration with the lack
of opportunities to develop their uniqueness and establish themselves as prestigious
musicians. That happened with Duke Ellington’s band, who found his band eventually unable
to able to attract the most skilful in the field (LAWRENCE, 2001, p. 418).
52
Typecasting might occur with sidemen, too. When Miles Davis replaced John Coltrane with Sonny Stitt in
early sixties, he risked employing a musician who was already typecast in the Jazz community (Szwed, 2002, p.
215).
130
Moreover, an older musician’s reputation declined once his achievements didn’t look
as impressive as before. Remarkably exceptions were Coleman Hawkins and Duke Ellington.
Both are accounted for accomplishing deeds seldom imitated by younger musicians
(DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 64)53.
4.3.7. Recurrent Innovator
An established leader might struggle against the inertial forces associated with his
success and attempt to introduce new innovations to the field. The reasons that led a
bandleader to break with his associated institutionalized style varied. One may claim that the
artistic calling was the major reason among innovators. As a matter of fact, musicians like
John Coltrane were compelled to follow their “musical daemons” and pursue innovation in
spite of the loss of audience and critic support. As his wife Alice Coltrane clarifies, he
couldn’t come back to his earlier ways of playing (PORTER, 1999, p. 275). The sheer
boredom with previous played style was a related reason, as artists are conceived as resistant
to routines (DIMAGGIO, 1977). Miles Davis, for instance, after completing Sketches of Spain
in late fifties, was yearning for artistic renovation.
Yet, more mundane reasons account for innovation. A bandleader might be reacting to
a downfall in revenues and prestige and hard-pressed by financial commitments. For instance,
Miles Davis was not only bored with his way of playing by mid-sixties and envious with the
success of younger black musicians (DAVIS ; TROUPE, 1989, p. 277), but he was also in
need of an increase in income in order to honor his financial commitments with Columbia
Records (SZWED, 2002, p. 269). Depending on how a musician performed in sales and in the
poll awards, he would be eligible to higher advances. As Miles Davis geared towards rock,
the Columbia executives monitored his success on Down Beat (a Jazz magazine) and
Billboard charts (SZWED, 2002, p. 217).
Also, the loss of older sidemen and the recruiting of musicians trained in new styles
might be an incentive to experiment with new formats. When Vinson Ork decided to
introduce bop in his big band, he established age as a requirement for recruiting new sidemen
(PORTER, 1999, p. 73). Coleman Hawkins’s secret for success was to be surrounded by
younger sidemen (SZWED, 2002, p. 237). At a very late stage in his career, Duke Ellington
proved that he was able to experiment with new styles, when he recoded with Charles Mingus
53
In the case of Hawkins was the control of harmony as source for improvisation. Duke Ellington was known for
his harmonic originality.
131
and Max Roach the Money Jungle album. As Miles Davis observed the leaving of important
sidemen in the late fifties, like John Coltrane, he was much freer, but also compelled, to
recruit resources that would be closer to pop and rock-‘n’-roll. Finally, the need for
innovation may come from sheer change in the audience profile. As Miles Davis became
more famous, he started to play in richer clubs, whose audiences were predominantly white
(SZWED, 2002, p. 257).
As suggested above, shifting away from an established style spurred positive and
negative reactions in the field. The likeliness that a leader would be able to overcome such
criticism was based in part on the same kind of risk that he faced while he was a new leader.
First, he depended on a receptive audience. For instance, Miles Davis found in a young black
audience the new listeners to his Fusion style. Although sympathetic, his new audience didn’t
identify Miles Davis’ music with rock. Second, critics saw in Davis’s later work an attempt to
cross two boundary lines at once: the Free Jazz and Rock-‘n’-Roll.
For many reviewers,
1969’s Bitches Brew was “a foolish and desperate attempt by an aging man to attract a young
audience by creating a new genre of music, jazz-rock” (SZWED, 2002, p. 297).
One way of mitigating the negative reaction from critics was to pursue a decoupling
strategy. In the mid-forties, Coleman Hawkins had his “Body and Soul” hit as an important
source of income stemming from Juke Boxes. The popularity of this song was fueled by radio
playing. Because he feared that his new bop playing would puzzle his radio audience, he
avoided recording bop style with large recording companies; instead, he preferred to play it
only at clubs (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 324). Eventually, records with the new style were
spawned through small labels, which still enabled him to establish himself as the leader of the
progressive movement (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 367).
Many bandleaders avoided the pressures from recording companies, criticism and
audience by establishing their own labels. “Dave Brubeck had helped start the Fantasy label in
1950, the in 1951 Dizzy Gillespie (Dee Gee) and Lennie Tristano (Jazz Records) had created
their own outlets, as did Woody Herman (Mars) around the same time that Debut was
founded. Also, despite still being contracted to Columbia, Duke Ellington has in 1950 formed
Mercer label to record small-group track which would not tempt the major companies, and he
it was too who a decade earlier had set the precedent of an independent publishing company
(Tempo Music) for his less commercial compositions.” (PRIETLEY, 1983, p. 46). Coltrane
was working on this project in 1967 before dying (PORTER, 1999, p. 289), while Charles
Mingus succeeded to create his own label.
132
Another way of easing the reception of innovations was the threat of retirement. In the
early sixties, Miles Davis threatened to leave the Jazz field. That helped him to adopt a new
way of playing and ultimately the jazz-rock identity (SZWED, 2002, p. 231)
Finally, the likeliness that a leader will be able to establish a new style was strongly
related to his status as a “star”. Stars are those artists who have a direct relationship with his
audience, and such relationship transcends the institutionalized styles existent in the field or
associated with his trajectory. Through charisma, the star is able to break rules and change the
norms in a field (GREENFELD, 1989). By positioning himself above such stylistic
institutions, the star is able to introduce new ways of playing.
Following, I present a table summarizing all career stages and respective distinctive
characteristics, risks involved and requirements for advancing to an upper stage:
Stage
Characteristics
Requirements for advancing
to next stage
Local band’s
sideman
•
•
National band’s
sideman
Sidemen Hierarchy
•
•
•
•
•
New bandleader
•
•
•
Institutionalization
of Innovator
Leader Decline
•
•
•
Minimum skill level
Access to institutional
channels and social networks
Exposition to the center of the
Jazz World
Musicianship excellence
Participation in jam sessions
and cutting sessions
Reliability and fit to
employing band
Opportunistic horizontal
shifting
Put together, maintain and
provide a minimum of
discipline to like-minded and
complementary musicians
Generation of “gigs” and
establishment of contracts
with recording companies
Establish the band’s original
identity
Signing with a major
recording company
Change in the public’s taste
Emergence of (disruptive)
new styles
•
Attention from a
National band’s leader
•
Introduction to the Jazz
community
Prominence among peers
Development of own
style and compositions
Exposition to the media
and public awards
Presence at recorded
albums
Innovations become an
influence to other bands
and is eventually copied
Albums eventually
become “exemplars”
Former sidemen establish
their own bands and
establish a musical
genealogy
Leader typecasting
Obdurate identity
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
133
Recurrent
Innovator
•
•
•
•
•
•
Loss of important sidemen
Long term artistic project
Financial pressures (or
financial detachment)
Substitution of sidemen
Prominence in order to break
typecast identity
Establishment of own
recording company and
distribution channel
The identification of the key-characteristics of the stages, as well as the requirements
for advancement plays a twofold function. First, it will support the formalization and
operationalization of hypotheses in order to analyze musicians’ trajectories in future studies.
Second, and most important for this paper, it prepares the background against which we will
test whether the regularities extracted constitute rules of the field. As Bourdieu (1990b, p. 79)
warns, regularities cannot be taken as rules. In the same token, Durkheim (2003) suggests that
the investigation of deviation from the rules is privileged way of studying of institutions that
constrain one’s action as external social facts.
4.4. Non-typical Career Paths
The description of the typical stages above might give the impression that a musician
must go through all these phases, from sideman in a small town, to a recurrent innovator, in
order to be considered successful. This belief might be reinforced by the small probability of
becoming a star in any artistic field (ROSEN, 1981; FAULKNER, 1983). Following this
logic, failure to migrate from one stage to another might determine stagnation or exclusion
from the field.
Nonetheless, actual careers glue and combine these stages in manifold ways. The field
of jazz, as any other field, is saturated with romantic biographies of heroes who fail, stay
“quite” for a while (FAULKNER, 1983) and return. The research interest, within our
framework, is to explore whether such disrupted, non-linear accounts tell us something about
the field’s evolution. A field’s dynamics might provide room for these unlikely trajectories.
For these exercise, I will focus on the trajectories of Coleman Hawkins and Ornette Coleman,
for both exemplify how irregular trajectories help us to explain major turning points in a field.
134
4.4.1. Coleman Hawkins
In his book The Birth of Bebop, Scott DeVeaux develops the argument that Coleman
Hawkins was one of the precursors of Bebop, although his name is mostly associated to
Swing. Hawkins built his reputation of good instrumentalist in the pre-Swing Era, at the
Fletcher Henderson’s big band (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 134). At Henderson’s, he grew
frustrated as Louis Armstrong overshadowed all sidemen. In 1934, Hawkins engaged in a
self-imposed exile in Europe (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 68), where he found plenty of
opportunities as star soloist. Beautiful women and fine liquor were some of his awards
(DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 88). In addition, he achieved a degree of autonomy that allowed him to
avoid bandleaders’ caprices. Moreover, in Europe, his music was perceived as closer to
classical music.
As mentioned above, Hawkins’s leaving to Europe happened just before the Swing
boom in the U.S. In 1935, as Benny Goodman attracted crowds of teenagers to his concert at
the Carnegie Hall, Swing was officially the most popular style in America. As pointed above,
Hawkins pick up with the bandwagon. He returned to the United States and established his
own big band in 1939 (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 134), just before the Swing bubble burst. Again,
this was the major reason for his failure.
In addition to Hawkins’s poor timing, he was not able to offer those features that made
other bandleaders successful. His major distinctive feature was his improvisation skills.
However, the commercial side of Swing favored the whole big band entertaining show, rather
than soloist musicianship. This was an era when standard packages were more to the taste of
the public (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 134). Although everybody expected Hawkins to be a leader
of a dance band, he resisted the typecasting that helped Fletcher Henderson, Louis Armstrong
and Duke Ellington. In spite of his winning the Metronome’s annual popularity contest, he
was forced to dissolve his band by 1940 due to very low wages ($33 per man, $50 for the
bandleader) and little prospects of future work (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 142). He was never
again a dance bandleader. His shift to small combos was far from smooth. Due to the lack of
opportunities in the small clubs in NY, he was forced to move to Chicago. In 1942, the
security of big band vanished and his prospects looked bleak (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 276).
Nonetheless, Hawkins was at easy with Bop innovations (PORTER, 1999, p. 71). His
improvisational style was built upon chromatic alterations (in contrast with his contemporary
peers) (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 104), which was also a feature in the emergent bop movement.
As a result, Hawkins found a new community of musicians to play with: “Far from being on
135
the periphery of the music business, Hawkins found himself at the center of a new network:
working continuously, recording prolifically, and – perhaps most satisfying – surrounded by
young musicians as dedicated to the progressive ideal as he was” (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 277).
His embrace of Bop was the new identity that Hawkins needed to move on
(DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 310), and he was well positioned to capture this opportunity. First, to
be a freelancer was an advantage, for he was not bounded by contract to any label. Thus, he
was able to record as many as one hundred tunes during 1944 (DEVEAUX, 1997, p. 306).
Also, in comparison to younger musicians, he had already established a prestigious name.
Finally, in contrast with musicians of his age cohort, he was able to play the new style. As a
result, Hawkins served as a catalyst and helped to legitimate the Bop movement (DEVEAUX,
p. 316)
4.4.2. Ornette Coleman
Ornette Coleman, one of the founders of Free Jazz, was never invited to join national
bands (WILSON, 1999, p.12). He was always a heretic. His harmonic conceptions, although
derived from bebop, didn’t follow the current conventions (WILSON, 1999, p. 21). As he was
rarely invited to sit-in, and when that happened, he was frequently left alone on stage, he was
never introduced to the informal hierarchical ladder of jam sessions.
In spite of this exclusion, Coleman eventually gained support among peers, like Billy
Higgins, Walter Norris and Don Payne (WILSON, 1999, p. 17). In the early inception of Free
Jazz, it was his supporters, not Coleman, who diffused the style; Coleman wouldn’t be
accepted in any club or recording company. Once Free Jazz gained legitimacy, Coleman’s
colleagues were able to include him in paid gigs (WILSON, 1999, p. 18). In the late fifties,
prominent musicians and critics, like John Lewis and Martin Williams saw in his musical
innovation a relationship with Charlie Parker’s ideas (WILSON, 1999, p. 23, MARTIN, 1983,
p. 235). The enactment of such relationship helped to legitimate the Free Jazz movement as an
authentic and original expression in the Jazz field. In spite of this acceptance, traditional
players like Miles Davis (SZWED, 2002, p. 236), Coleman Hawkins, and Red Garland
reacted with hostility. The critic John Tynan referred to Free Jazz as “ultra-individualism”,
“nihilism”, and “staged anarchy”.
Coleman found himself between two contradictory forces. On one hand, he didn’t
enter the field through the right channels: “that someone who had not paid his dues for years
in the New York musical hierarchy could meet with such success provoked resentment, even
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some anxiety (…)” (WILSON, 1999, p. 27). On the other hand, he amassed recognition from
prominent musicians and critics, which granted him in 1966 the Down Beat’s award of
Jazzman of the Year. Coleman was convinced that had he gone to New York earlier, he would
be able to save ten years in his life (WILSON, 1999, p. 12).
In spite of this recognition, the stream of gigs just didn’t come accordingly, and he
was not able to hold up a group together. “[D]espite the opportunities New York presented to
perform regularly, it was plainly impossible to hold a group together in a constant line up – an
for Coleman’s music, with its new style of ensemble playing, this was essential.” (WILSON,
1999, p. 28).
In addition to this mismatch between musicians’, audience’s and critics’ opinions,
perhaps Coleman wasn’t a skilled business man. He dismissed engagements for they didn’t
meet his monetary expectations. As a result, Coleman didn’t play live from 1963 to 1965
(WILSON, 1999, p. 41). It was due to the persistence of collaborators in the sixties, like
Stefan Sharp, David Izenzon, and Charles Moffett that Coleman was able to maintain and
evolve his style. Wilson (1999) believes that Coleman was not naïve. On the contrary, his
reason for refusing engagements was a struggle to establish his music as art. This was not rare
among jazz musicians in the sixties. Mingus is known for requiring unconventional terms on
clubs and recording companies (PRIESTLEY, 1983, p. 92, p. 132).
4.5. Discussion: Resources and Fields
Along the typical path, we observe how musicians deployed effort, reputation, funds
and social contacts in order to advance their careers. Not less important, these musicians also
faced challenges in disrupting social networks, changing their public identities and managing
their sidemen. Underlying these decisions, sidemen and band leaders tackled different levels
of risk and uncertainty.
Within the typical trajectory developed above, it is possible to observe how actors are
coupled to a field as their trajectories unfold. Failure to achieve a superior stage leaves the
actor to stagnation or expulsion from the field. The challenge, then, is to explain why and how
deviant actors are able to pursue alternative career paths. Although different dispositions may
explain why musicians like Coleman Hawkins and Ornette Coleman pursued unexpected
strategies, we should still discuss why they succeeded.
Coleman Hawkins could fall, by Bourdieu’s typification, in the naïve category. He left
the United States just before the Swing boom, which was concurrent with the general
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economic recovery in the country. And again, he set up his big band just before the Swing’s
bubble burst. For Bourdieu, such moves correspond to a waste of time. If we understand
“time” as a relational rather absolute category, we monitor an actor’s progression only in
relation to his peers. Hawkins seemed to have missed entirely the point.
However, the Jazz field’s institutions and meta-logics were experience fast change.
With the decline of Swing, younger musicians found weakened obstacles against their efforts
to promote Jazz as an art form. Hawkins, as showed above, was instrumental in the shaping of
the Bop musician’s new ethos, and consequently, the emergence of a new professional
conscience.
The professional body that Hawkins helped to create was highly identified with the
informal hierarchical ladder among New York musicians. Also, it benefited directly from
Down Beat’s increasingly specialized criticism, which in the early fifties provided massive
support to Bop as an expression of Jazz as art. In tandem, small and then large labels started
to record Bop and later styles. In other words, Hawkins successfully migrated from the Swing
system to the Bop system, mostly by relying on the emergent professional body, rather than
on commercial claims.
When we observe Ornette Coleman, we face again a matter of timing. In comparison
to Hawkins, Coleman also lost “field-time”: he didn’t conform to the field’s norms and didn’t
enroll in the New York hierarchy. However, when Coleman entered the Jazz field, we observe
again an uncoupling of legitimacy sources. While the several critics and musicians supported
Coleman, he lacked the approval from much of the audience, peer musicians and critics.
What can we learn from Coleman Hawkins and Ornette Coleman experiences? Sure
we should agree with Bourdieu that timing is crucial for a successful actor. However, when
the field meta-logics face transformation, ambiguity takes place. Changes in a field’s
institutional meta-logics are not likely to happen at once and in a coordinated fashion. Critics
may disagree with audience, who may, in turn, disagree with other public opinion formers and
the audience in general. Also, critics might disagree among themselves. In sum, as inter- and
within-groups clashes emerge, and the sources of legitimacy wither, the valuation of a field’s
resources becomes more uncertain. As a consequence, conversion between capitals becomes
an exercise fraught with uncertainty.
As Menger (1999) points out, the higher the uncertainty in an artistic market, the
higher the probability for non-instrumental oriented action. Hence, both Hawkins’s and
Coleman’s (inter alia) action and discourse towards less commercial music might be
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explained by a mismatch among legitimate sources. This is also consistent with DiMaggio’s
(2002) analysis on the emergence of non-instrumental action in tandem with uncertain times.
4.6. Conclusion and Future Research Opportunities
The study of individual trajectories and careers within fields has evolved rapidly in the
last years. This body of research has provided a wealth of normative insights that may inform
how professions will face challenges outside closed organizational structures.
This article attempted to contribute to this discussion by letting the underlying field to
vary over time. As a result, individuals face two sources of variability. One source stems from
the odds that he will be able to migrate from one stage to another, given as taken for granted a
field’s meta-logics. Another source of variation comes from the field evolution. If the field’s
normative institutions change overtime, individuals might face their resources reevaluated
over night. Moreover, the field’s agents might send conflicting signals on the field’s trends.
Further research could focus on individuals’ resource development and deployment under
conditions of fast legitimacy change.
Future research might provide a sounder basis to the intuitions laid in this article. First,
a more robust analysis of musicians’ trajectories might be performed through the
reconstruction of longitudinal networks (see SNIJDERS, 2001; DE NOOY, 2002, for possible
approaches). Second, there is an important lack of research on musicians’ perspectives, which
might shed some light on the actor’s subjective perception of their networks. This might be
mitigated by further analyses of biographies. However, biographies are always limited in their
depth and reliability. Also, discourse analysis might be applied to ethnographic material
collected from living musicians. But this choice would require a new research object.
Finally, too much focus was given to vertical attainment mechanisms. Even when I
analyzed the “deviant”54 cases of Coleman Hawkins and Ornette Coleman, they end up
climbing the hierarchical ladder in the jazz world. Future research might reveal horizontal
paths encapsulated within and between these stages.
54
At this point, the term deviant seems ill-placed. One is deviant only in relation to a given order. But one’s
action might contribute to change such order.
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5. How do Outsider Styles Become Legitimated? A dialogue between Bossa Nova
musicians and Jazz critics
Abstract
This paper explores the emergence and enactment of new musical styles from the
perspective of critics. As the field absorbs a new style, the critics assess whether it belongs or
not to the established tradition. In parallel, as musicians produce art works following the new
style, critics classify and rate them. This signaling activity helps us to understand how the
legitimacy process takes place vis-à-vis the production of new records. For that purpose, we
explore the introduction of Bossa Nova in the Jazz field. Our results show that as this process
evolved, records that combined Bossa Nova elements with Jazz were more likely to penetrate
the core of the community. Conversely, musicians who played pure Bossa Nova were kept in
the periphery. Finally, the assessment of “what is Bossa Nova” moved back and forth from
positive statements (BN “is” Brazilian Music, inter alia) to negative statements (e.g. BN “is
not” Jazz, inter alia). This swing between positive and negative statements accompanied
distinctive inflection points in the institutionalization of Bossa Nova.
5.1. Introduction
The central concern of this paper is to explore how new musical styles get legitimated.
This question is not only localized within Sociology of Art and the study of Creative
Industries, but it also refers to a broader institutional question: what is the underlying process
that leads to the legitimacy of new categories?
Like an institution, a musical style works as a system of beliefs and cognitive frames
that organizes collective action (DOUGLAS, 1986). It is through style that critics categorize
musicians and their records (DIMAGGIO, 1984; HSU ; PODOLNY, 2005). It is also through
styles that musicians negotiate their way of playing. Conversely, musical innovation occurs
through stretching a style to its limits, or introducing unexpected elements to an enacted
identity (WHITE, 1992a).
The institutionalization of a new style refers to the institutionalization of new social
forms. Generally, the neo-institutional tradition has explored how new forms are diffused
within an organizational field (BURT, 1987, GALASKIEWICZ ; WASSERMAN, 1989,
BAUM ; OLIVER, 1992). Although such tradition has its roots in a phenomenological
approach to the cognitive systems of actors in an organizational field, less attention has been
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devoted to how the underlying belief systems change (one important exception is RAO;
MONIN ; DURAND, 2003). The aim of this paper is to explore the process of legitimating
beyond the analysis of diffusion of new social forms.
The emergence and institutionalization of new musical styles is a privileged object for
such investigation, for there is a split between musicians and critics in the production of music
and discourse. In a schematic way, while musicians produce new records, critics generate the
discursive analysis about this production. To be sure, this separation is not rigid, and the
moments when boundaries were blurred constitute important events in the evolution of any
artistic field (for an example in Jazz studies, see PORTER, 2002). Nevertheless, if we assume
that critics are the major source of discursive production in a field, we should also expect that
major changes in the fields’ discursive space should occur within critics’ discourse.
Critics are generally viewed as gate-keepers of a Art World (BECKER, 1982,
DIMAGGIO, 1977). With such role, critics have been able to permit the introduction of new
artists, art works and styles in a field. White (1993) characterizes critics as playing the role of
supervisors of an agent-principal relationship. While final consumers are the principal,
musicians are the agents in creating new music. Critics, then, categorize, rate and compare
new art works with previous works. Bourdieu (1993b, p.78) radicalizes such view as
portraying critics as belonging to a close-knit network and sanctioning any art work that
deviates from the consecrated rules. Such critics are “guardians of a temple” who seek the
monopoly of discourse creation. If we accept such proposition as our departing point, we face
a paradox: if critics enact and protect the hegemonic rules in a field, how is it possible to
explain the acceptance of new styles?
Conversely, if our findings show that established critics do accept new styles a new
problem emerges: if the enactment of new styles occurs in an easy and frictionless way, we
should suspect that the precedent institutions were not strong enough. As a consequence, if
the institution has always been weak, the very role of criticism would be meaningless. In
order to avoid such dead-end conclusion, I explore how critics change their belief systems
while maintaining the strength of institutions. In other words: as new styles are enacted into
an established tradition, critics have the role of reconciling the new art works with the
established tradition and explain why such musical innovation (and perhaps not others) should
be welcomed into the field. Following this line of reasoning, the conflict that marked the
division between musicians and critics is now transferred to the realm of critics. It is in this
realm where new discourses are formed, through the activity of coupling and uncoupling the
new style within the web of meanings shared by the community of critics.
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The object that I chose for this investigation is the introduction of Bossa Nova in the
Jazz field in the sixties. While Bossa Nova sprung from a hybridism of Samba and Jazz, the
Jazz tradition was well established, after sixty years of history.
5.2. Theory on new Styles
5.2.1. Outsider as a source of innovation
A cultural turn was experienced in the second half of the twentieth century, as mostly
post-modern scholars have observed that all cultures are a product of hybridism
(ANDERSON, 1998). From this perspective, a concern in identifying pure cultural forms
would be doomed to failure.
When we complement this array of analysis with the study of social relations, we
come back to the Simmel’s suggestion that individuals are regarded as intersections of groups.
Also, groups can not be understood as closed entities, but intersecting with other groups
through their individuals’ co-memberships (SIMMEL, 1955). Pescosolido and Rubin (2000)
radicalize the original simmelian intuition to localize in the post-modern era a time where
criss-crossing group affiliations give room to complex social network structures and social
boundaries are loosely defined.
Burke (2003) identifies several types of hybridisms: imitation, appropriations,
acommodations and syncretism. An imitation occurs when the borrower of the external
culture doesn’t perform any adaptations to the recipient location. The example the author
offers is the usage of wool coats in the ever-summer Rio de Janeiro in the beginning of the
XX century. Such “immitation” had the purpose of creating a distinction between the carioca
elite and other strata in the society.
An appropriation occurs when the borrower selects only few elements from the
external culture, and fit them to the recipient context. An example of appropriation is
observed on how Brazilians absorbed and changed Italian words into its spoken Portuguese.
Accommodations occur when different cultures live side by side, influencing each
other, although maintaining their identities. An example of accommodation is observed on the
presence of Jesuits in China. The priests absorbed some of the local habits, without
completely losing their identity. Finally, syncretism is a completely distinct social form,
created out of a blend of different cultures. The Afro-Brazilian religions, like Ubanda,
combine Christian with African saints in a unique religious and symbolic system.
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Burke identifies several situations where these hybrid forms emerge, most
prominently, in cosmopolitan cities, where different cultures interact, and along countries’
borders. In such situations the sharing of common objects among cultures makes it difficult to
identify its true origins. Burke suggests that a circulation of social forms among cultures
better describe the history of these artifacts.
In addition to identifying these hybrid forms, Burke also points out that societies and
individuals may express different reactions to the combination of cultures. A more welcoming
society may present low resistance to new hybrid forms. In the opposite pole, closed societies
might reject external cultural elements. Between these two poles we may observe societies
that accept external elements, but segregate them at the fringes of the community. Conversely,
several societies might accept only certain aspects of an outsider culture, while rejecting other
elements. Negative reactions, points Burke, occur even in our open-society times, when we
expect that cultures would freely mingle with each other.
Negative reactions towards hybridization express attempts to impose social
boundaries. Although such enacted boundaries always present some porosity and let
communication to the outside world, they may constrain and regulate the way that social
actors, and in our case, artists, establish their social networks.
5.2.2. Boundary work and sources of conflict
The study of social boundaries is one of the most important themes in sociology. Its
origins bring us back to the very origins of sociology (DURKHEIM, 1995, WEBER, 1978),
leading to contemporary scholars like Bourdieu and Douglas.
Mary Douglas, from an anthropological perspective, and drawing on the durkheimian
tradition, proposes the comparison of social boundaries to the boundaries of an individual’s
body (DOUGLAS, 1984, p.115). From this perspective, one’s body is regarded as sacred and
the exchanges with the environment are strongly regulated. Douglas goes on to describe how
different societies preserve the relationship of purity of the body by avoiding the ingestion of
specific kinds of food. Conversely, the appearance of certain body fluids is interpreted as
impurity, or “pollution”, and requires a ritual of purification in order to reincorporate the
individual to the society. The requirement of maintenance of body purity is central for these
societies, for two reasons. First, and more obvious, a society concerned with purity should
restrain to accept polluted elements. But most importantly, by excluding impure elements, the
society thinks itself as a body, that needs to expel those inappropriate elements. These
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requirements relate to the purity of the individual’s body, but also to the relationship with
other bodies. The way that kinship relations between members of different tribes are
permitted or sanctioned refers also to the requirement of maintenance of the purity of the
society’s body. Surprisingly, shows Douglas, certain fluids and elements that are considered
pure while inside the body, once expelled are not considered pure anymore (e.g. saliva).
Although it is not impure while inside the body, once it is placed outside one’s mouth it
should not be reincorporated.
When we tie Douglas’s discussion back to the innovation in music, we observe several
phenomena that suggest an analogy to her model. One may speculate that as a genre becomes
institutionalized, and its internal rules more crystallized, the absorption of foreign musical
elements becomes increasingly regulated by such norms. Nonetheless, through the history of
Jazz, for instance, periods of strong institutionalization of norms were followed by periods of
deinstitutionalization of old norms and enactment of new ones. As a matter of fact, the
development of new styles in Jazz, from Hot Jazz, Swing to Avant-Garde and Fusion might
be interpreted as such normative upheavals.
In contrast with the concept of sacredness of the individual, DOUGLAS (1984) points
the role of becoming an outsider as an important stage for rites of passage. For instance, in
order to be accepted as an adult, a child has to go outside the limits of the community in order
to challenge the community’s rules. In his return, the individual embraces again the
community’s rules, but now as an adult. WHITE (1993) recovers the idea of liminal
experiences in order to explain how artists decouple their activities from their field’s
established rules. However, in contrast with Douglas, White foresees in this movement of
return as a source of innovation to the community of artists, as new artistic forms are
developed and brought back by the artist. Conversely, while the return of the recent adult
within Douglas’s theory is unproblematic, for she embraces her community’s rules, the return
of White’s artist is prone to conflict, as her new creation is likely to clash with the established
rules.
5.2.3. Making sense of change
From a phenomenological perspective, styles are categories that entail cognitive
schemata for classification of art works. From that perspective, styles could be compared with
scientific paradigms (KUHN, 1970). As in scientific paradigms, styles embody the abstracted
elements of phenomena, namely art works. Also, as in scientific paradigms, the constitution of
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styles takes place when the community chooses a set of exemplars, among a population of art
works, that embody the core elements of that new category.
However, as Kuhn (1977) informs us, we should distinguish the artistic and the
scientific production for the following reasons. First, while new scientific paradigms destroy
older paradigms as they reorganize the observed phenomena in an entirely new schemes, new
artistic styles don’t destroy, but dialogue with older styles. A remarkable example brought by
Becker (1982) is Duchamp’s Monalisa. By drawing a moustache on Leonardo’s Gioconda,
Duchamp challenged the idea that a masterpiece could not be altered. Nonetheless,
Duchamp’s art work value is graspable only when considered in relation to the original Mona
Lisa. Hence, artistic innovation dialogues with the past in a way that doesn’t occur in science.
Second, while innovation in art is a value itself (KUHN, 1977), highly valued by consumers
(SIMMEL, 1957) and necessary for absorption of new artists into the field (BOURDIEU,
1993a), the development of new scientific paradigms is highly problematic for scientific
communities (KUHN, 1970, 1977). As Becker (1982) points out, although new art works to
be successfully accepted by an Art World should comply with its conventions, entirely
conforming works are perceived as non-creative.
In spite of the requirement of constant innovation, changes that go beyond the
boundaries spanned by the standards decrease the value of the institutions for its participants
(CAVES, 2000, p. 202). As a consequence, critics have to apply a meta-classification on new
labels and determine whether they are fads or should be accepted as new categories within the
tradition.
Weick’s study on the sensemaking phenomena in organizations (1969) clarifies that
categories and labels emerge as ex-post to action. In that sense, a practice that has been
occurring as ‘emergent’ is eventually recognized by the organization and legitimized. The
process of legitimating occurs in tandem with the very labeling of the phenomena. This
perspective doesn’t contradict Douglas’s model, for the enactment process is strongly
regulated by the boundary setting rules defined by the purity laws. Nonetheless, such model is
not able to explain some extreme changes in the Jazz field like the introduction of Bop scales
or the Fusion’s electric guitar. Such new practices went against the institutionalized rules.
To be sure, Weick’s studies on sensemaking accounts for two opposing situations to
explain change in crystallized schemata. The first situation is extreme crises, which led Weick
to study disruptive events like fires and accidents. On the other extreme, Weick brings the
very example of Jazz, where musicians consciously improvise and eventually create new
ways of playing Jazz (MEYER; FROST ; WEICK, 1998). Although Weick’s account on Jazz
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musicians might well explain the behavior of innovators, it is still left to investigation how
disruptive new art forms are enacted and legitimized by other types of actors (critics,
producers, etc.).
5.2.4. Conflict and Changes in Power
Musicians do not depend entirely on critics to establish new styles. In relation to the
critics’ community, musicians count on external or semi-external forces like increasing
audience (as in the case of Rock and Roll, see PETERSON, 1990) or the establishment of new
media organizations. Bourdieu (1993b, p.89) mentions how newly created avant-garde
periodicals support avant-garde artists. If that is true, new styles should be always
accompanied with the creation of new organizations that hire sympathetic critics. This
proposition is much in line with Christensen’s (1997) idea that disruptive technologies emerge
within new organizations.
The creation of new organizations that permit the introduction of new styles reflects
changes in the power sources in a field, as the distribution of resources shifts to accommodate
new players. This power-based interpretation of how institutions endure or change is
supported by recent scholarship on institutional change (HOLM, 1995, HININGS et al, 2003).
This perspective assumes that established critics, as well as their recipient organizations, stick
to their belief systems and schemata, denying change. Nonetheless, such proposition would
assume that critics do not review their belief systems even under extraordinaire pressure from
musicians, audience and recording companies.
An interpretation of new styles as emerging out of conflicts among musicians, critics
and organizations bring us back to Bourdieu’s concept of field (1993a). Within a field, artists
position themselves accordingly to the quantities of capital that they control, and the
composition of such capital. As a consequence, the search for external new forms or
subversion of internal rules might be better described as the consequences of a practice from
actors who are seeking to improve or consolidate their positions and achieve a better
conversion of their capitals. From this perspective, Bourdieu departs from an orthodox
durkheimian view of social boundaries as a matter moral density, to understand how social
boundaries encompass not a body, but a field where its different components continuously
struggle.
Nonetheless, although the internal conflicts are described as confrontations in a battle
field, the boundary setting with the external world is still treated as if Jazz were a body. As a
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consequence, internal conflicts might be translated into the discussion on where the external
boundaries are enacted. Musicians in different positions might be more or less conservative in
relation to established boundaries.
5.2.5. From Periphery to Core: latency and visibility
As the innovative artist migrates from the periphery to the center of a community, he
enters in a social space that is not only dense in social ties, but also saturated with symbolic
network ties and correspondent conflicts. As Melucci (1985) puts it, such movement describes
a trajectory from latency to visibility. As an artist penetrates denser areas of the community,
his art works are also appreciated by a larger audience. The increase in audience leads to a
sharper separation between artist and his audience. For instance, listeners to Jazz are much
closer to artists when they attend to jam session rather than when they listen to records. As
this separation increases, the need for exposition through media and the scrutiny of critics also
increases.
As a new style migrates to the core of a community, its distinctive elements might be
preserved. In that case, the host community is itself also embracing a new set of elements that
hasn’t recognized as part of its tradition. This migration has the effect of provoking conflict
for it challenges the established traditions and stretch the established boundaries. Another
possibility of diffusion is the absorption of diluted versions of the new artistic form into art
works that compromise with traditional elements. Following this way, we should expect lower
resistance to the new style.
These two phenomena are of central interest for us, not only because they permit us to
trace the trajectory of new styles, but also because whenever a new style is introduced, critics
are forced to verbalize what they believe the traditions are. Also, as the new style is accepted,
critics also verbalize what the new style is. Conversely, while the field lacks a set of agreed
exemplars and criteria to establish a style, for every new art work assessed, critics will express
whether in their opinion that art work belongs or not to the host tradition and whether it
belongs or not to the emergent style.
Following, I will approach the construction of the Jazz tradition and the Bossa Nova
history, in order to introduce my analytical strategy to this process.
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5.3. Jazz and Bossa Nova
5.3.1. Enacting the Jazz Tradition
Gridley’s (2003) “Jazz Styles” is already the 8th edition of a textbook devoted to teach
what is Jazz. Along the book, Gridley identifies the most important styles in Jazz, their
prominent musicians and musical innovations. In addition, Gridley poses a puzzling, but
necessary, question for his readers: how can we set the boundaries of Jazz? The author offers
four visions. The strictest of them requires that a song to be considered part of the Jazz
repertoire must present elements of improvisation and a certain feeling of swing. Given the
failure that many pieces face in matching these requirements, Gridley reviews his criteria,
loosening either the improvisation or the swing dimensions (respectively the second and third
views). But still several art works don’t attend to any of these requirements (several of Duke
Ellington’s pieces are among the most prominent examples). As a consequence, we are left
with the fourth, more inclusive definition: if a piece resembles the consolidated repertoire of
the Jazz tradition, we should consider it Jazz (ibid. p. 6). In an earlier study, Gridley, Maxham
and Hoff (1989) draw on Wittgenstein to explain what he means for “resemblance”.
Wittgenstein proposes to group theories under families given a similarity of epistemological
approach. In analogy, Gridley proposes that the critic of Jazz is able to assess the proximity of
a given piece to Jazz by analyzing in which extent it resembles the elements present in the
Jazz tradition.
Although this later definition is quite inclusive, it raises at least two crucial questions.
The first question is whether, by loosening so much the membership criteria, Gridley is not
proposing a definition that is unable to distinguish Jazz from non-Jazz. A possible answer
could argue that such evaluation is grounded on a comparison with the Jazz tradition’s
musical elements. But then, it leads us to this paper’s central question: who established the
Jazz tradition? Also, if Gridley’s later definition is comprehensive, we should not assume that
it has been in the same way along the history of Jazz. As a matter of fact, harsh conflicts over
what is Jazz paved the development of this genre as critics resisted to new variations
(KOFSKY, 1998, LOPES, 2000).
Both questions relate to the Jazz’s boundaries. Moreover, they challenge us to
understand the historical process that formed the institution of Jazz.
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5.3.2. Bossa Nova in the Jazz Field
Medaglia, a writer on Bossa Nova (2003), affirms that BN was a one of the most
important musical innovations in Brazil in the last century. Some historians go even farther in
their defense of the importance of this new style. Bossa Nova would have played an important
role in revitalizing the American Jazz, as the Jazz family of styles (bop, hard-bop, post-bop,
cool) lost its ability to innovate (SEVERIANO ; HOMEM DE MELO, 1997). Other observers
place the introduction of Bossa Nova in the American market as an impressive success
history, for it shows how a musical style developed in a peripheral country was introduced in
an large and central marketplace as the American one was in the beginning of the sixties
(CASTRO, 1990). From the American side, Jazz writers describe the Bossa Nova style as an
important influence in the sixties, and a still viable idiom (YANOW, 2005). Based on these
statements, we are tempted to infer that Bossa Nova was warmly received by musicians,
critics and public in the American Jazz community. Such inference couldn’t be farther from
reality, for it dismisses the institutionalization process of this new idiom. Such procedure
privileges the point-of-view of an observer placed at an ex-post temporal moment, and
detached from the participants’ perspectives.
5.4. Methodology
5.4.1. A theory of Jazz and Bossa Nova
Jazz critics need a theory of what is Jazz (in the durkeimian sense of “belief system”)
in order to assess whether a given record fit to the Jazz tradition. We collected 184 record
reviews from the magazine Down Beat, from 1962 to 1969 (Table 1 for a longitudinal
evolution of the sample). Whenever a record review had the word “Bossa Nova” in the body
of the text, we considered it as part of our sample. For each review, we analyzed how the
critic perceived the relationship between the following entities: “Bossa Nova”,
“Samba/Brazilian Music” and “Jazz”. For that purpose, we set four questions for coding:
1. Is Bossa Nova considered either Brazilian Music or Samba?
2. Is Bossa Nova considered a blend between Samba and Jazz?
3. Is Bossa Nova considered part of the Jazz tradition?
For each of these questions, our coding procedure admitted three possible answers: the
statement is true (e.g. Bossa Nova is equivalent to Brazilian music), the statement is false (e.g.
Bossa Nova is not equivalent to Brazilian music) or neutral (the review is silent towards this
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question). Figure 1 summarizes the findings of this analysis, where we report only the
affirmative and negative assessments, but not the neutral ones (total number of assessments is
disclosed in Table 1).
Table 5.1: Evolution of Bossa Nova Records and Assessments
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
Total
Total Sample
12
52
17
35
26
14
21
7
184
BN Theory Assessments
12
44
4
7
6
4
5
2
84
100%
85%
24%
20%
23%
29%
24%
29%
46%
% on sample
Records Classified
% on sample
11
49
16
33
26
14
21
7
177
92%
94%
94%
94%
100%
100%
100%
100%
96%
Source: Author’s analysis
100%
Isn't Jazz
Is Pop/Mood
80%
Is Blend
60%
Is Samba/Brazilian
40%
20%
Isn't Samba
0%
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
Figure 5.1: Evolution of the Theory of Bossa Nova
Note: 100% denotes the total number of record reviews that contained statements on what is Bossa Nova
Source: Author’s analysis
5.4.2. Classification of Records
Following Burke’s suggestion that there are several types of hybridization, we
identified four levels of Bossa Nova presence. The highest presence of BN was classified as
“Record is BN”, indicating that the whole album followed the idiom. Following, we coded
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“Song is BN” whenever a record had one or more BN tracks, although some tracks were not
identified as belonging to this idiom. We classified “Record has a BN flavor” whenever the
critic identified an influence of BN, but not the idiom per se. Finally, the mildest classification
was “Song has BN flavor”, indicating that the critic observed BN influence in one or more
tracks (but not in the whole album). As we proceeded in our coding of the evolution of BN
theory, we allowed the assessment to be negative as well (e.g. “Record is not BN”). As we
can observe on Figure 2, such negative form of valuation occurs in a much lower frequency
when compared to other classification groups. Table 1 brings the total number of records
classified under the categories mentioned above.
100%
Some songs have BN
flavour
Some songs are BN
80%
60%
Record has BN flavour
40%
Record is BN
20%
Record isn't BN
0%
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
Figure 5.2: Classification of Records
Note: 100% denotes the total number of record reviews that contained statements on whether the record
belonged to Bossa Nova.
Source: Author’s analysis
5.4.3. Ratings
Down Beat critics rated each record under a rating system that ranged from 1 to 5,
where 1 is a poor record, and 5 is an excelent record. The average rating of the universe of
records reviewed by Down Beat in the sixties was slightly above the mid point, achieving 3.5.
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Not differently, the average rating of our Bossa Nova sample was 3.42. The longitudinal
analysis of the trend in rating hasn’t revealed any important deviation from this level.
For each record classification category, we calculated the mean rating for each year.
Next, we standardized this figures using the year’s global average rating as a benchmark.
Figure 3 brings the trends of relative ratings by record classification group, where the
horizontal axis stands for the year’s global average rating.
30%
20%
Record is BN
Record isn't BN
Record has BN flavour
10%
Some songs are BN
0%
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
Some songs have BN flavour
-10%
-20%
-30%
-40%
Record isn't BN
-50%
Figure 5.3: Evolution of Rating by Record Classification
Source: Author’s analysis
5.4.4. Social Networks
The analysis of social networks provides an alternative approach to assess the
penetration of a social form in a community. Traditionally, social scientists analyze the
adoption and diffusion of social forms in a social space by keeping constant the social form.
In our analysis, we attempt to observe the penetration of Bossa Nova in the Jazz community
by identifying whose actors in the social space adopted the idiom. In addition, we mapped the
diffusion of BN in its different record classifications. As a consequence, we let mutation of
the social form be a dimension of our analysis.
In order to gather the LPs data, we collected a sample of credit information from Jazz
LPs on the “Crazy Jazz” web site. Crazy Jazz is a CD seller, specialized in Jazz titles. It is
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recommended by the “Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD” as the best Jazz CD seller. Furthermore,
Crazy Jazz shows up to nine most important musicians involved in the LP. Our original
sample covered 5,572 LPs, between 1930 and 196955. A sub-sample was extracted covering
the period under analysis, from 1962 to 1969.
Ideally, we should consider as relational data only those titles that reflect original
recording sessions. However, many titles available are collections and compilations that might
interfere with our interpretation. Collection titles might establish relationships that were
inexistent (e.g. “All Star Swing players” could wrongly link Benny Goodman to Duke
Ellington). On the other hand, compilations might cover a quite long period of the artist’s
production and changes of style, bringing difficulty in establishing when those relationships
were established, and when that artist developed that style (e.g. “Dizzy Gillespie’s biography”
could mistakenly relate Swing to Afro-Cuban Jazz).
In order to minimize these effects, we eliminated from our database collection titles.
Nonetheless, we could not just eliminate compilation titles. The reason is that several titles
were originally recorded in compacts, and were relaunched in compilation CDs. Nonetheless,
we restricted compilations to maximum of five years range, and considered its release year the
initial year of the covered period.
5.4.5. Preparation of the Network
From the information of LPs and its featuring artists, we built three preliminary
databases: a list of musicians, a list of LPs and the relationships between LPs and musicians.
We divided the LPs database in eight years, from 1962 to 1969. For each period, we
counted the number of titles recorded by all pairs of musicians. Whenever a pair of musicians
shared at least one record, we considered that the musicians had a tie in that year. Next, we
dichotomized all relationships, not considering the strength of the tie.
5.4.6. Preliminary Analysis
We used extensively the software UCINET, version 6.0, in order to calculate the
betweenness centrality of each musician. Next, we calculated the average betweenness
55
We should bear in mind the consequences of building our database using current commercial data as its major
sources. The first consequence is that we depend on “Crazy Jazz” criteria on defining what is relevant. In terms
of revenues, low selling sales might not included, although they might have reflected important relationships in
their time. Also, Crazy Jazz’s commercial classification of what is Jazz might differ substantially from other Jazz
community members’ point of view. These sampling constraints reinforce the exploratory status of this paper.
See DiMaggio (1984) for problems of classification in art, as well as proposed solutions using network analysis.
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centrality for each record classification category. Kadushin (2004a) suggests that the between
centrality measure provides some insight on the extent that an actor controls a brokering
position in a network. Figure 4 shows the two-year moving average by classification category.
0,04
0,035
Song is
BN
0,03
0,025
0,02
Song has
BN flavour
0,015
0,01
Record is
BN
0,005
0
1962 1963 1964 1965 1966 1967 1968 1969
Figure 5.4:
Evolution of Average Betweenness Centrality by Record
Classification Category
Note: the vertical axis denotes musicians’ Average Betweenness Centrality per record classification
Source: Author’s analysis
5.4.7. History and Narratives
In a recent study on the institutionalization of the Nouvelle Cousine in France, its
authors (RAO, MONIN and DURAND, 2003) introduce their investigation with the history of
the origins this new style of cooking. In the history of Jazz, we find such approach
problematic. There exist a wide variety of narratives on the “true” origins of Jazz. A narrative
that gives emphasis on the Blues roots strengths the link between Jazz and its Afro-American
identity. In contrast, a narrative that places the New Orleans’ Creole origins as more central
will give more salience to the syncretic aspect of Jazz. Finally, a narrative that explores nonAmerican influences, as Gypsie’s (Reinhardt), Cuban (Gillespie) or Brazilian (Getz) will shed
a “global” flavor to Jazz. To be sure, each of these narratives attempts to establish the “true”
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identity of Jazz in two ways. First, they aim at establishing a link between Jazz and a given
social group. Second, they seek to influence the formalization of the essential characteristics
that define the boundaries of Jazz.
The same phenomena occur when we analyze the history, or histories, of Bossa Nova.
Rather than trying to establish the true roots of Bossa Nova, which would turn this study in a
Musicology or History of Art piece, we take a neutral approach to its roots, displacing it from
the background of the article towards a position where the narratives become part of the
material to be analyzed. Part of our motivation is to monitor the emergence of new narratives
in tandem with the very process of institutionalization of Bossa Nova. In parallel to the
records’ reviews, the editors of Down Beat devoted considerable space to explain and clarify
the history of Bossa Nova. As a matter of fact, several narratives coexisted for a while,
providing ambiguity on which records would be the true exemplars for Bossa Nova.
5.5. Results
5.5.1. Bossa Nova Narratives
In 1962, Bossa Nova was officially introduced by Down Beat. At that point, the “new
thing” achieved a considerable commercial success among Jazz consumers, especially among
those closer to the Cool style. The most prominent musician playing Bossa Nova was Stan
Getz, who was believed by many to be the very one who brought it from Brazil. This first
version of the origins of Bossa Nova was problematic for many for two reasons: first, it
dismissed the role of other musicians, like Charlie Byrd, in its introduction in the U.S.
Second, it signaled to consumers and musicians that such style was entirely created by
Brazilian musicians.
In reaction, Tynan (1962) offered an alternative narrative on the origins of Bossa
Nova. Laurindo Almeida (Brazilian) and Bud Shank (American) would have developed the
origins of Bossa Nova in a studio in Los Angeles in 1953. Although Shank and his colleagues
perceived in the new thing an opportunity for innovation, Laurindo preferred to follow a
classic guitar career, overlooking the potential of the new style. As the narrative goes,
eventually a Shank-Almeida’s record achieved João Gilberto and Antonio Carlos Jobim in
Brazil. These Brazilian musicians would have taken the original BN from Shank and Almeida
and formalized it to follow a more rigid beat, robbing from the percursion its original
freedom. As a consequence, the Brazilian adaptation of BN dismissed the freedom of
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percussion, crucial for identifying the new style with Jazz. A return to its American roots
would lead BN to the Jazz tradition:
Despite several attempts at delineation in the press and liner
commentary on recordings, a central fact concerning the practical
beginnings of this jazz samba has been ignored: bossa nova, as we
know it, is neither new nor wholly Brazilian. Its roots trail back a
decade, and its practical application as a new form found birth in
Hollywood, Calif. (Ibid, p. 21).
This later version was not accepted by either Antonio Carlos Jobim or Laurindo
Almeida. Jobim, in an interview to Gene Lees, stated that Bossa Nova was not Jazz, but a
“tamed” version of samba, with strong Jazz influences:
Bossa Nova has a jazz influence. Gerry Mulligan had a great
influence on us. You could call bossa nova ‘cool samba’ and
somebody did call it that in Brazil. The authentic Negro samba is
very primitive. They use maybe 10 percussion instruments and
maybe four or five singers. They shout and the music is very hot
and wonderful. Bossa Nova is cool and contained, on the other
hand. It tells the story, including the lyrics, trying to be simple and
serious and lyrical. (…) You could call bossa nova a clean,
washed samba without the loss of the momentum. (LEES, 1963).
Also, the Brazilian musician claimed that he had never heard the Shank-Almeida
experiment, but it was Gerry Mulligan’s influence on his and Gilberto’s playing that led to the
development of Bossa Nova: “We never heard Laurindo Almeida. Gerry influenced us, you
must tell the people.” (Ibid).
In addition, Laurindo Almeida stated that his experiment with Shank was far from
Gilberto’s and Jobim’s style. Theirs, affirmed Almeida, was the real Bossa Nova. In
summary: Bossa Nova was considered by the Brazilian musicians as an evolution of samba,
influenced by Jazz.
By the end of 1963, Stan Getz received the Grammy award for his “Jazz Samba”
record, placing him as the best known musician associated with Bossa Nova. In reaction,
Leonard Feather tried to provide to the readers of Down Beat a more complete picture of the
Bossa Nova style, collecting Charlie Byrd’s narrative on the emergence of Bossa Nova. By
1965 the critics declared the Bossa Nova fad over, and tried to assess its “profit and loss”
balance:
Though interest in Bossa Nova has abated quite a bit after the
deluge of a couple of years ago, it hardly has withered on the vine
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of popular acceptance. The flood of BN discs apparently had the
result of creating a stable core of fans for the delightful, airy,
graceful music of contemporary Brazil. (WELDING, Down Beat,
1965, 32:26, p. 24)
5.5.2. The Evolution of the BN Theory
A first analysis on the evolution of the sample shows that the apex of critics’ attention
towards Bossa Nova occurred in 1963, with 52 records reviewed. There was a fall in 1964 to
17 records, as a result of a band-wagon bursting, but a significant recovery in 1965 as a
lagged reaction to Getz’s award. After 1965, there is a declining trend in the number of BN
records reviewed.
As we observe the evolution of the Theory of Bossa Nova on Figure 1 and the number
of records in our sample, we are able to complement the existing narratives of the reception of
BN in the U.S. with intuitions on its different stages of institutionalization. From 1962, since
its inception, towards 1964, we observe a predominant, although declining, classification of
Bossa Nova as a type of Samba or Brazilian music. Few critics ventured to classify BN as a
blend of Jazz and Brazilian music, while few already expressed that BN was not Jazz.
In 1965 we observe a reversal in this trend. Bossa Nova is no longer considered
Brazilian music or Samba. In contrast, several critics point out that Bossa Nova is not Samba,
whenever they identified in the record under criticism that traditional “samba” elements were
introduced under the disguise of the Bossa Nova label. Nonetheless, we observe in parallel an
increase in criticisms that considered Bossa Nova as different from Jazz. It is worth noting
that in 1965, we observe either neutral or negative assessments of Bossa Nova, which marks a
point of inflection in the institutionalization of the idiom. Also, we see a significant drop of
assessments of “what is Bossa Nova” on a percentage basis, in comparison to previous years
levels (Table 1).
In the couple of years that followed this point of inflection, we observe an increase in
positive assessments, and most of these reviews classified Bossa Nova as a blend of Jazz and
Brazilian music. In 1967, we observe any negative assessment of Bossa Nova, which
indicated a trend towards the institutionalization of BN as a separate and distinct field from
the Brazilian and the Jazz fields.
Nevertheless, the years of 1968 and 1969 are marked by a return of the negative
assessments. Classifications of Bossa Nova either excluded the idiom from Samba or
excluded it from Jazz. By performing this double negation, the critics could at the same time
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accept the absorption of Bossa Nova without either defining it or putting in jeopardy the
formal boundaries of Jazz.
5.5.3. Evolution of Record Classification
In the beginning of the history of BN, we observe a bandwagon of records with some
BN influence. As a matter of fact, on Figure 2 few of the records reviewed in 1962 were
entirely BN. In parallel, many reviews point out the launching of records that are not
genuinely following the Bossa Nova style. This bandwagon effect is a consequence to the
perception that the new style is only a momentary fad. At this moment, the critics play a
disciplinary role in the field. They recognize those records that claim to be Bossa Nova
(“Record isn’t Bossa Nova”) from those that are, in their opinion, the true Bossa Nova. In
order to establish the new style as sacred, the critics refer to the “original” Bossa Nova,
electing exemplar records as referential points.
As a consequence of this movement, critics, and in consequence consumers and the
field as a whole, give higher priority to those exemplars that will serve as a compass to the
coming production. From 1963 to 1965 there is an increase of “pure” Bossa Nova records
reviewed by Down Beat.
Nonetheless, from 1963 to 1965 we observe a decrease in the number of records
classified as Bossa Nova, probably as a consequence of the higher institutionalization of the
new style. As a consequence, pure BN records leave room to records with only some
influence of Bossa Nova.
5.5.4. Evolution of Ratings by Record Category
The trends de described above are accompanied by significant changes in the average
rating by “record category”. Records that are fake BN, or just free-riders of the bandwagon
effect are severely punished with below average ratings. In contrast, the BN records that serve
as exemplars to critics receive the highest scores in comparison with the other categories.
As BN becomes more institutionalized, and its presence felt as a mild influence in
“traditional” Jazz musicians’ work (e.g., Duke Ellington or Miles Davis), records with some
BN influence (especially those where “some songs have BN flavor”) increase in their average
rating (Figure 3). In contrast, the rating of pure BN records decreases.
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5.5.5. Penetration of BN in the Jazz community
Figure 4 indicates that high centrally actors introduced BN to the Jazz community in
the early sixties (e.g. Stan Getz). Nonetheless, as the most prominent original musicians
shifted to other styles (Stan Getz eventually migrated back to hard bop) or adopted milder
forms of Bossa Nova, the pure BN leaders decreased in centrality.
The result is twofold. First, the pure BN players remained in the periphery of the
community, becoming a quasi-outsider reference. In contrast, milder versions of Bossa Nova
were adopted by more prominent and central musicians in the community. We observe on
Figure 4 an increase of in the average betweenness centrality of those musicians who adopted
milder versions of BN.
5.6. Discussion: a tentative model for a process of institutionalization
The introduction and evolution of Bossa Nova in the Jazz field suggests a pattern of
institutionalization of new social forms. Following, we will attempt to combine these insights
in a cohesive model.
The first stage is the introduction of the new style: a musician launches the “new
thing” and achieves a sudden and unexpeted success. The recognition of a new style occurs
with full publicity and high awareness of all actors, although its creation might have been
buffered for years before its recognition. This characteristic is similar to technology oriented
fields, such those described by Christensen (1997), where new technologies evolve and are
buffered in peripheral sectors of a community of organizations. However, in contrast with
technological fields, cultural fields permit a wider ceremonial adoption of the new style56.
Such practice leads musicians to adopt the new style label, without truly absorbing any of its
characteristics. At this stage, the critics emerge as playing an important disciplinary role in the
field, for they identify those records that deviate from the perceived standard. The sanction
against “free-riders” is expressed in bad ratings, which serve as signaling to consumers,
distribution channel and other musicians. In a very mechanical flavor, we may perceive the
critics as the executors of the function of selection in this system.
In order establish the legitimacy of the “standard” of the new styles, the critics elect
those records that will play the role of exemplars to the field. At this second stage, reviews
give higher priority to “pure” exemplars, in order to consecrate a new tradition. At this point
56
The ceremonial adoption of a style is comparable to the ceremonial adoption of an institution, as proposed by
Meyer and Rowan, 1977.
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we are forced to depart from the mechanical model, for two reasons. First, critics will not
necessarily elect the same set of exemplars, creating some ambiguity on the boundaries of the
new style. Second, musicians will perform unexpected appropriations of the new style into
their music. As a consequence, new launched records will only resemble the elected
exemplars. Nonetheless, Stan Getz’s award served as a strong signal to the field to elect his
album as an exemplar, which provided a shared standard to subsequent records.
The proliferation of appropriations leads the field to a third stage, when critics are
forced to review their definitions and formalizations. Now, instead of affirming what the style
is, the critics choose a more conservative strategy: they affirm what the style is not. This shift
in their position occurs as a reaction towards the flush of new records that perform legitimate
appropriations of the new style.
In a forth stage, a new standard is recognized as legitimate. As a consequence, critics
migrate from negative assessments back to positive assessments. But now the theory of the
new style accepts that it is a blend.
In tandem with the establishment of new accepted
standards, musicians continue to produce new records under influence of the new style.
Rather than strictly follow the established standards, they will twist it to further adaptations.
Also, those musicians closely associated with the pure exemplars are kept in the periphery, as
if segregated from entering the core of the field. In contrast, more central actors will introduce
diluted versions of the new style. As a consequence, new classification crises will come,
bringing the field back to its third stage of segregation. As in a systemic loop, the feedback
process goes back and forth from the third and fourth stages, until the style reaches a level of
absorption that critics are unable to notice further changes. Following this systemic approach,
when this final stage is achieved, the system approaches its equilibrium. This trend occurs in
tandem with a decline of the number of records reviewed.
At this point, we must place two warnings against this schematic model. The first
warning is against a suggestion that the system is purposive as a whole. The process described
reflects the history of the introduction of Bossa Nova in the Jazz field. Nonetheless, the
introduction of other styles followed different patterns that differ from this scheme. Fusion,
for instance, emerged as an evolution of Jazz and Rock, mostly introduced by hard-bop
musicians. After its initial inception, Fusion musicians created a new field with distinct
audiences, recording companies and venues, although not entirely breaking the ties with the
Jazz world. Another example is the introduction of Bebop: this new style was not just
absorbed by the Jazz field. Musicians who played bebop were able to displace Swing
musicians and occupy and hegemonic position in the field. Finally, Bossa Nova could have
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followed a much shorter and fad-like life cycle. As a consequence, its presence would be
purged without any relevant absorption.
5.7. Implications for the study of institutionalization
Traditionally, the study of the introduction of new social forms investigates the
adoption and diffusion of a fixed form within a given community. In this paper, we attempted
to give room to the adoption and diffusion of hybrid and quasi-forms, enlarging the scope of
analysis of social forms. This enlargement was achieved by letting the classification of
records to follow a coding ranging from “pure BN” to “a flavor of BN”.
A second innovation introduced by our paper is the usage of negative semantic
relationship between objects and categories and among categories. The cognitive tradition in
organizational studies usually investigates how individuals activate schemata in order to
classify objects or interpret an experience. Usually, such classification processes place all
given objects under pre-existent categories by establishing positive semantic relationships
among objects and categories. Theories of categories (i.e., how different entities relate to each
other) usually build systems of concepts with positive semantic relationships. Our study tried
to bring the role of negative semantic relationships as an attempt to protect the boundaries of
cognitive systems. As a consequence, not only the similarity, but also the dissimilarity and the
differentiation are brought back to the study of cognitive aspects of institutionalization. This
intuition brings back the original idea of Levy-Strauss that culture is built upon binary
relationships.
5.8. From the System towards the Field thinking
Our study was reductionist in the extent that it limited itself to the evolution of only
one style, Bossa Nova, within only one periodical, namely Down Beat. Nonetheless, the
adoption and diffusion of a new social form is rarely isolated from other contemporary forms
and competitive organizations.
When a musician considers adopting Bossa Nova, she has to perform a trade-off
between the gains of adopting it, against what she will lose for not adopting other styles or
abandoning previous successful styles. Moreover, even if that musician tries to reach a
compromise between the new style and previous styles, she has to aim for the right balance,
otherwise her musical identity with consumers and critics will be put in jeopardy. Our
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findings show that such musicians, like Duke Ellington, absorbed the new style in a much
milder form in comparison to original exemplar creators, like João Gilberto.
A study of evolution of musical styles that comprehended all contemporary competing
styles would still benefit from a system-like approach. From this perspective, the analyst
would be able to analyze the interplay of parallel processes. The introduction of new styles
would be interpreted as events that would trigger new processes that eventually interfere with
the ongoing maturation processes of existing styles. As a consequence, critics would be led to
spread their attention among different trends in the community. Although such approach
would be rich in describing the perceived mechanisms governing the evolution of styles, we
suggest that we would risk overlooking its human agency aspect.
Future studies should cover a broader range of styles, but also attempt to preserve the
analysis of how the adoption and diffusion of new styles occurs in tandem with the positiontaking action of different actors (BOURDIEU, 1993a). The introduction of the concept of
field as a space for internal conflict will bring us better understanding on why musicians shift
to new styles. Conversely, the investigation of how new positions are formed and taken will
bring us a better intuition on the alignment of critics towards positive and negative semantic
classifications. Following this logic, the investigation of whether individual critics stick to
their schemata or adapt it as the field evolves would bring us a glimpse on how the
gatekeepers’ cognitive schemata evolve.
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6. Tropicália: Strategic Maneuvers in Networks of Musicians
Abstract
This article aims to build bridges between three theoretical fields: Organizational
Strategy, Social Networks, and Social Identities. By analyzing the networks of Brazilian
musicians (interpreters and composers), we monitor the emergence of new styles, along with
the structural changes in the network. Within the period in analysis, from 1958 to 1969, four
musical styles emerge and consolidate: Bossa Nova, Jovem Guarda, MPB and Tropicália. We
utilized Social Networks in order to grasp three dimensions of the field evolution: network
evolution, creation of structural holes and transformation of actors’ centrality. The key
insights we provide are: (1) interpreters identities suffer transformations as their repertoires
change, (2) composers’ centrality increase as they become more influential in the field and (3)
new styles may emerge from the exploration of structural holes. This paper attempts to exhibit
the potential contributions recent Social Networks theory may provide to the Organizations
Theory and Strategic Research.
6.1. Introduction
Weick’s (1969) classical study on sensemaking in organizations was one of the first to
set the problem: much of the management activity is about classifying objects and let the
system treat them accordingly, and yet, reality is more complex than our categories are able to
grasp. Acceptable raw material has to be separated from low quality material, but surprises at
the factory do happen. Patients in hospitals have to be constantly labeled under a known
disease, and treated (WEICK; SUTCLIFFE ; OBSTFELD, 2005), and still, doctors make
mistakes. Category systems is among human beings since the beginning of civilization
(DURKHEIM, 1917), and support the functioning of institution (DOUGLAS, 1986). The
music industry relies on category (and symbolic) systems. Thus, categorization occurs as new
music albums are released (DIMAGGIO, 1987). Recording companies, as well as record
stores, radio stations apply labels to records and their creators. These labels are styles. For
musicians, the labeling process is a mixed blessing. On one hand, their music is accepted as
legitimate under the existing categories. On the other hand, they struggle to maintain their
uniqueness and freedom to change. In other words, musicians strive to maintain their
identities intact, free from typecasting.
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This article explores these tensions between musicians and the music industry. For that
purpose, it builds bridges among three important concepts in organizational theory. It brings
together a theory of social networks, a theory of identity and a theory of strategic behavior. Its
intended contribution is integrating these three perspectives into a single theoretical
explanation of strategic behavior that is dependent both on the individual identity of the social
actors and from the network configuration they are embedded.
After a brief introduction (1), our study starts by (2) revisiting the literature on
strategic behavior in networks (mostly based on the rational choice paradigm). This
perspective is complemented with (3) a proposal that individual identity and network position
are mutually reinforcing concepts, giving birth to the idea of embedded identity. Following,
we introduce our object of study: (4) networks of artists (interpreters and composers) in the
Brazilian phonographic industry during the 1960’s. The period under analysis, from 1958 to
1969, revealed the emergence of several new musical styles in Brazil, including Bossa Nova,
MPB, Jovem Guarda and Tropicália. In a first analysis we qualitatively explore the history of
these concurrent styles. The review of this musical history will provide the needed
background in order to understand the quantitative network analysis we performed next. By
stating the (5) entities analyzed along this network (interpreters, composers, LPs, songs and
styles), we are able to describe the methodology used (6) and the observed results (7).
Discussion and suggestions for further research follows (8).
6.2. Strategic behavior in social spaces: rational choice and economic sociology approaches
Powell and Smith-Doerr (1994) suggest that researchers have depicted social networks
in two ways: (a) as an “Analytical Device” and (b) as a “Governance Device”. From the
former perspective, which is the focus of this paper, network structures may constrain actors’
behavior: “Networks of relations among individuals in different organizations and among
organizations in a field are critical in explaining how organizations adopt similar structures
and pursue common strategies” (POWELL ; SMITH-DOERR, 1994, pg. 368). The intuitive
idea is that an actor’s position in a network might provide a privileged way or an obstacle for
access to relevant resources and information. In other words, network positioning influence
the strategies actors may adopt.
To clarify this concept we contrast two theoretical approaches to explain strategic
action. Firstly, following the Hotelling game, we reconstruct a Rational Choice approach to
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social identities (HOTTELING, 1929). Secondly, we introduce a social network approach,
building on the works of Granovetter and Burt (GRANOVETTER, 1973; BURT, 1992).
6.2.1. A Rational-Choice Preliminary Model: The Hotelling Game
In the early 20th century Harold Hotelling introduces the idea of equilibrium in
unidimensional competitive games. Hotelling imagined that several competitive settings could
be expressed spatially, where competitors would struggle for consumers along one-dimension
scale (HOTTELING, 1929). This scale constitutes a market’s identity, for it express how the
existent competitors are positioned. Let us suppose that in a given one-dimension scale (see
Figure 1), consumers’ preferences are equally distributed from 0 to 100. In order to make the
example more concrete, let us suppose that the product is cereal, and the feature measured in
the scale is degree of sugar.
A
0
25
B
50
75
100
Figure 6.1: The Hotelling Game
Source: Author’s adaptation of Downs (1999)
If companies A and B position themselves in positions “25” and “75” of sugar,
respectively, it can be shown, from Hotelling’s model, that both will converge to position
“50”, at the center. This convergence occurs because both A and B realize that by changing
their products to be “50” in sugar, it will be accepted by a larger number of consumers for two
reasons: first, consumers in the extremes will continue to purchase only from that producer
that has relatively better fit to their preferences; second, players will dispute moderate
consumers that fall in the middle the extremes.
This model has been traditionally applied in Political Science, for voting analysis (see
for instance BIERMAN ; FERNANDEZ, 1998; DOWNS, 1999). In spite of the criticism it
has received, for not contemplating multidimensional positioning, for instance, it still
provides a powerful insight on basic positioning dynamics that can be found, especially when
dealing with identity positioning.
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From Downs’s (1999) discussion, we recover the following assumptions. First,
political struggle is fairly reducible to a one dimensional. In other words, it is possible to
compare similarity among parties using only one dimension scale. Second, politicians will
converge to the center (as in Hotelling) whenever the society is not polarized and its voters
are equally distributed in the Right-Left dimension. Finally, once a party picked a side, it can
converge to the center, but it cannot flip sides with its opponent. If that occurred, it would
create cognitive confusion among constituencies, jeopardizing its electoral advantage.
We may challenge this model on the following grounds. First, it depicts social actors
as isolated from each other (DIMAGGIO, 2002). In contrast, actors are interconnected in
social networks, which makes the Hotteling’s model an abstraction far from empirical
evidence. Second, as suggested above, it assumes that all conflicts are reducible to a single
dimension. Against this last criticism, we should consider Down’s rationale. It is reasonable
to believe that if actors played in multiple dimensions, the market would lose its identity.
Translating this insight into sociological concepts, we would face a market where actors
follow different legitimate sources. As a result, they would have little socially oriented action.
White (2002a) and Podolny (1993) offer a sociological treatment for this last problem.
White retains the idea that a market has an identity. To be sure, this identity is cognitively
established through cross-monitoring and shared narratives. Nonetheless, it is not tightly
coupled to the actual social networks. The mismatch between an established market identity
and the actual actors’ positioning in social networks introduces a dimension not captured by
Hotelling’s model. Podolny, in contrast, agrees with Hotelling that a market identity might be
depicted in an one-dimensional scale. However, poorer positioned actors might try to break
the market identity, in order to promote an identity repositioning. In the following section, we
will explore how social network researchers developed the idea of positioning.
6.2.2 Strategic Action in Social Networks: from Closure to Structural Holes
The intuition that strategic action is closely related to one’s social network might be
traced to classic sociologists. A central concept is the closure-inspired social capital57,
developed separately by Coleman (1990) and Bourdieu (1986). Following the weberian idea
of closure, both Coleman and Bourdieu see social capital as those social ties that might be
mobilized in order to tap resources. Moreover, in order to protect a group’s membership and
57
There us a vast bibliography on social capital (see Kadushin, 2004, for a review), to the extent that we might
be far from a consensus in the field. We restrict our discussion to the cohesion versus structure equivalence
debate, proposed by Burt (2001).
166
restrict the distribution of resources, these social forms converge to closed and cliquish
networks. Conversely, individuals are coerced to consent with the group’s identity, in order to
maintain their membership. This group’s identity is might be enforced at an institutional level
or at an individual level. Krackhardt (1990) shows that even at situations when institutions
permit that individuals establish ties with outsiders, informal sanctions might emerge from
other members.
Granovetter (1973) recovers this discussion when he analyses the “forbidden triads”.
According to Granovetter, if A is strongly connected to B and B is strongly connected to C,
then A and C are necessarily connected, either by a strong or weak tie (GRANOVETTER,
1973). This is due to the scarcity of resources available to relationship maintenance. If the
resource “time” is heavily invested by A on its relationship with B, there will be too little
spare time to be invested by B with C, unless there is a large overlapping between the time A
spends with B and the time B spends with C; therefore, A and C must have a relationship (see
Figure 2a). Central to his argument is that while strong ties are bound by group norms, weak
ties are less constrained. As a consequence, they play a role of bridge among groups.
In contrast, Burt (1992) suggested that “forbidden triads” could exist. He conceives a
triad with only two edges (see Figure 2b), opening the possibility of brokerage strategies to
the actor that occupies the central position in the triad. By doing so, he opposed the
proponents of closure as social capital. In his analysis of social networks, Burt conceived the
idea of “structural holes”. From Simmel’s conception of situations where an individual
benefits from the conflict of another two, Burt (1992) suggests the idea of structural holes.
Simmel’s original idea, inspired in the Latin expression “Tertius Gaudens”58, explains the
freedom of action an individual obtains from intermediating a triad, which would be
otherwise closed (SIMMEL, 1950).
The definition of structural holes, for Burt, “is the relationship of nonredundancy
between two contacts.” (BURT, 1992, pg. 18). From this perspective, if an actor X’s
surrounding nodes are highly interconnected among themselves, there is little opportunity of
arbitrage for X. This is due to the high redundancy of X’s ties – very little new information
flow among these ties. Conversely, if X’s surrounding nodes are sparsely interconnected
among themselves, X will have several opportunities to brokerage information among them,
which will provide high importance to its position in the network.
58
“The third party profits”
167
This brokerage (and the very maintenance of the open triad) is possible only if the
intermediary exploits or foments discord or significant separation between the intermediated.
To be sure, if discord or separation is necessary in order to maintain the open triad, then we
should observe, in the due time, the formation of strong opposing identities between the
intermediated members. If this segregation provides to the entrepreneur an opportunity for
intermediation, it also brings a challenge: how is it possible to establish relationships with
both contending parties, without jeopardizing her own legitimacy?
(a) Granovetter’s closed
triad: strong or weak ties
(b) Burt’s opened triad
Figure 6.2: Closed and Opened Triads
Source: Author’s adaptation of Granovetter (1977) and Burt (1992)
6.3. - Social Networks and Social Identities
Social identity has been traditionally viewed in sociological theory as an attribute of
individuals. Hogg, Terry and White for example draw a picture of the research on identity in
which they depict identity theory and social identity theory as two similar perspectives on the
dynamic mediation of the socially constructed self between individual behavior and social
structures. They argue that while there is almost no systematic communication between these
two perspectives, they have share many common features. Identity theory is a microsociological theory that aims at explaining role-related behaviors. In contrast, Social Identity
theory is rooted in social psychology studies and aims at explaining group and inter-group
behavior (HOGG; TERRY ; WHITE, 1995). These identity theories, while taking into
account several aspects of the individual’s environment, define identity in terms of espoused
values and the belonging to certain predefined categories (such as race, nationality,
profession, etc.).
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In this article we advance the role-taking idea of identity, by introducing social
network insights. As Berger and Luckmann’s (1966) and Scott (2001) propose, the first step
in the construction of social identity happens as actors externalize symbolic networks through
their actions and interactions. As a consequence, the enactment of one’s identity is somewhat
dependent on the recognition by the actor’s counterparts. White (1992a) proposes that actors
establish social identities in order to control their relationship patterns with other actors. For
instance, in primitive societies, gender-based identities were tightly linked to specific
relationships, as only men hunt together, etc. In the extent that actors are able to establish
relationships that are not predicted in their role, social change takes place. White (2002b)
called “cat-net” (from categories and network) the incongruence between one’s identity and
relationships, for the actor engages at the same time in a categorical identity that doesn’t
match her social interactions. From this perspective, embedded identity is constantly
transformed, as the actor establishes new relationships along her trajectory. This idea has been
advanced by DiMaggio when exploring what he calls the Nadel’s paradox (DIMAGGIO,
1993). The Nadel’s paradox presents the inconsistencies between consolidated social roles
(father, mother, teacher, etc.) and the individual’s actual ties among each other. Whenever an
individual successfully establishes relationships that deviate from the script described in the
social role, there is an opportunity for innovation of the social role itself. That’s what White
called “fresh action” in a social network (WHITE, 1993).
Because identity adoption is the entry ticket in order to integrate the field network,
actors will embrace identities (ZUCKERMAN, 2003). However, identity adoption has its
price: once adopted, a label may lock actors (the typecast phenomenon), diminishing their
mobility along the social space. On the other hand, discrete relationship establishment outside
of the identity group may provide to actors some degrees of freedom. As Padgett and Ansell
(1993) suggest, actors might be able to pursue a “robust action” strategy and establish ties
with opposing groups. This is accomplished by carefully compartmentalizing the conflicting
actors, as suggested by Burt. In contrast, actors might attack the entire symbolic order
(PODOLNY, 1993).
We summarize the concepts seen so far in the following schema:
Concept
Social Network Insights
Market Identity
•
Markets have identities, as buyers and
suppliers are paired
Individual Identity as Positioning
•
Constant patterns of relationships entail
169
“positions”
•
Individuals position themselves in social
networks, assuming identities
•
Social identities, as labeling categories,
might lock-in their holders
•
The cost of shifting identity might be
higher than perceived gains
•
Actors might be able to pursue ties
outside their roles’ scripts
•
The mismatch between one’s identity and
relationships might trigger the emergence
of new identities
Robust Action
•
Actors are able to bridge a structural hole
between opposing groups, by
compartmentalizing interactions
Change in the Symbolic Order
•
Actors might pursue an attack to the
symbolic order, aiming at a general
repositioning
Labeling and Typecast phenomenon
“Cat-Net”
Schema 6.1: Social Network Insights
Source: Author’s development
In the analyses that follow, we will describe how musicians in the Brazilian scene
engaged in social identities, disengaged from these very identities by pursuing Robust Action,
and eventually recreated them.
6.4. - Musicians in Social Networks: Emergence of Tropicália
The object chosen for this investigation is a network of musicians. We found this
object appropriate, for the following reasons: (a) the consumption of cultural goods is strongly
related with identity creation (SIMMEL, 1957), (b) artists themselves must engage, at least in
the beginning of their careers, in one identity group, in order to be accepted by the industry
(RAO; MONIN; DURAND, 2003) and (c) artists will try to differentiate their perceived
identities, in order to create a unique image to the Industry and public (PETERSON, 1997).
Specifically, we chose the 1958-1969 period in the Brazilian Popular Music, for the
rapid emergence of several new styles: Bossa Nova (BN), Jovem Guarda (JV), MPB and
Tropicália. Each of these styles not only were based on different musical rules, but also
170
corresponded to different social identities. The phenomenon that we want to observe is the
interplay of these styles, from the perspective of network-based creation of identity by these
artists.
6.4.1 Bossa Nova (BN): the paradigm of the ascending middle-class
The emergence of BN is understood by several Brazilian music historians as a Rio de
Janeiro middle-class phenomenon. Tinhorão, for instance, observes the movement of the
emerging middle-class to the South area of Rio de Janeiro as one prerequisite to the BN
(TINHORAO, 1997). As this new middle class started to take shape, a new identity needed to
be established. In the musical field, they could not identify with the romantic music adopted
by the traditional higher class, and could no longer identify with the traditional samba of
lower classes. The solution seemed to incorporate Jazz to Brazilian music. The influence of
Jazz in the Brazilian music is observed since the forties (MEDAGLIA, 2003). When Antônio
Carlos Jobim and other pioneers of BN started to experiment the first combinations of samba
and jazz, the music played was still a hybrid style. It was the incorporation of João Gilberto
to the group (CASTRO, 2003) and his unique way of playing the guitar, that allowed BN to
gain a very distinct musical identity. In parallel, BN became the most influential music style
of that generation of musicians.
6.4.2 The pop Jovem Guarda (JG) and its counterpoint to BN
In parallel to the emergence of BN, a number of artists started to introduce Rock and
Roll to the Brazilian music. Led mostly by Roberto Carlos and Erasmo Carlos, the Jovem
Guarda (JG) style aimed to create or recreate rock music in Portuguese. They were also
known as “iê-iê-iê”, for their adaptations of early Beatle songs, or just pop music. It is
important to notice that the JG style was mostly bounded to fifties and early sixties Rock. The
revolution Rock experienced with the emergence of Rolling Stones or the second phase of the
Beatles was not absorbed by JG.
If BN aligned the emergent middle class to the same intellectualized spirit of Jazz, JG
brought the same joviality of Rock. Hence, the opposition of Jazz and Rock was translated
into the Brazilian music.
171
6.4.3 Emergence of MPB, and its clash with JG
Since the emergence of BN, there were disputes around whether BN was a legitimate
national style, or just an adaptation of Jazz. Carlos Lyra, one of the pioneers of BN, at some
point initiates the creation of a new version BN with a more Brazilian face. Nara Leão, along
with Lyra, started to launch songs with strong social criticism content, attempting to provide a
synthesis between BN with protest music. This was the beginning of MPB.
Exponents of MPB, like Elis Regina and Chico Buarque, occupied a musical space left
behind by traditional BN musicians, who were developing their careers outside Brazil. The
creation of a nationalist identity, in both content and form provided revitalization to BN and
the reintroduction of traditional samba composers, like Noel Rosa.
This “nationalist” and “protest” features of MPB’s identity led many of its composers
and interpreters to refuse any music expression that could reveal foreign influence. Although
the very traditional BN was heavily influenced by Jazz, it was the JG style the target of
MPB’s charges. For MPB’s musicians, JG’s use of eletric guitars and attempt to absorve Rock
was equivalent to attempt to alienate Brazilian youth from Brazilian reality.
The conflict achieved its peak when “Fino da Bossa”, a TV show led by Elis Regina,
started to loose audience to “Jovem Guarda”, a TV show led by Roberto Carlos. Elis Regina,
in reaction to JG advances, promoted a parade, entitled “Parade against the electric guitars”.
This parade established strong boundaries around MPB and JG, clarifying the identities
around these styles.
Because of the common heritage of the BN and the MPB groups, and strong mobility
of artists between them, they could be considered to integrate the same BN/MPB community.
6.4.4. “Baianos” penetrate the BN/MPB community
In spite of the strength of the MPB group, it could not articulate all artists of the BN/
MPB community to position themselves against the JG style. BN traditional musicians, like
Tom Jobim and João Gilberto, continued their careers overseas. On the other hand, new
comers like the “Baianos” (from the state of Bahia), would be more resistant to discard new
musical possibilities, like the use of electric guitars. As Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil and the
Mutantes started utilizing electric guitars, they positioned themselves between the BN/MPB
and JG styles. This position was strongly attacked by MPB artists.
172
6.4.5 Tropicália is established and becomes influential
The use of electric guitars, alternative outfits and sardonic lyrics, positioned the group
of “Baianos” and the Mutantes in a uncomfortable position. If not attacked by the MPB
community, they were just regarded as an exotique experiment, that wouldn’t survive for a
long time.
The creation of a new identity was needed in order to provide legitimacy to the music
played by Caetanto, Gil and the Mutantes (CALADO, 1997). When the identity “Tropicália”
was born, its discourse differed from BN/MPB ones. It defended that the Brazilian music
should not close itself to the world. As a matter of fact, the Tropicália music incorporated
elements from BN, MPB and JG. Moreover, it claimed that art should not be subordinated to
politics (VELOSO, 1997). In that sense, the Tropicália movement resembled the XIX century
writers’ movement. This movement aimed the creation of an autonomous artistic field,
independent from both aristocracy and from the market (BOURDIEU, 2002).
Its success led several new artists to become more eclectic in their styles. Probably,
the most impressive fact of Tropicalia’s influence is the very Elis Regina’s interpretation of a
Roberto Carlos song in 1969, proclaiming the fall of the wall between MPB and JG.
Following, a summary of the mentioned Brazilian musical styles.
Styles
Musical
Themes
Key -composers
Features
Bossa Nova (BN) •
•
•
MPB
Jazz influence •
Love, nature •
João Gilberto
J.Gilberto’s
•
Vinicius de Morais
guitar beat
•
Tom Jobim
Social
•
Chico Buarque
criticism
•
Edu Lobo
Return to
•
samba and
Brazilian roots
Jovem Guarda
•
Electric Guitar •
(JG)
•
Rock influence
Tropicália
•
Eclectic
•
Youth themes •
Roberto Carlos
•
Erasmo Carlos
•
Caetano Veloso
•
Gilberto Gil
Eclectic
influences
Schema 6.2: Profiles of Bossa Nova, Jovem Guarda, MPB and Tropicália
Source: author’s development based on Homem de Mello (1976)
173
6.5. Understanding Styles and Identities from a Network/Embedded Perspective
A key question for this article is to answer how network analysis may improve or
provide any additional insight not already described qualitatively. The answer to this question
lies on the very definition of identity.
6.5.1 Identities among Musicians
When analyzing a musician’s style, the direct object for investigation is her interpreted
song (see Figure 3). Songs are born from earlier composers’ work, which adds up to a
repository of knowledge. Next, interpreters access this knowledge repository and borrow
songs in order to record them. By interpreting a song, an interpreter applies her own style to
it. Her style, then, is the blending of the song utilized, the instruments used, and the very way
of interpreting the song. Once the title is recorded, music critics (as well as Industry
personnel, musicians and the very public) will label a style to it accordingly to their set of
criteria (DIMAGGIO, 1987). Hence, style is an enacted social form, attributed to art objects.
In consequence, an art object might be recategorized, as the underlying criteria change with
time (DANTO, 1964; POLOS; HANNAN; CARROLL, 2002).
For instance, “Coração Materno” (Motherly Heart), written by Vicente Celestino, was
considered “tacky” by the BN/MPB community in the middle sixties. However, when
Caetano Veloso interpreted this song and recorded for the Long-Play “Tropicália”, it was
regarded by critics as something new, if not satiric, and yet, a recovery of Brazilian roots.
Therefore, we are able to trace an artist evolution simply by understanding from whom
she borrows her songs. Lena (2004) used a very similar methodology in order to map rap DJs’
identities. As DJs “quote” rappers in their sampling of songs, Lena was able to construct a
Rapper by DJs social network. We apply the same intuition by mapping the
composer/interpreter social network. The pattern of repertoire (the set of songs interpreted)
may vary in ways unpredicted by the formal identity. Another example: take Nara Leão’s
evolution. She was one of the pioneer interpreters of BN. Nevertheless, she was one of the
first interpreters to start recovering old samba composers. It took a while until the MPB
established itself as a synthesis between BN and the previous samba style, in order to
categorize Nara Leão under MPB. Our claim is that it is possible to uncover the emerging
identity of an artist from the changes in her repertoire.
174
Legend
Composer
Interpreter
Actor
Media
Song
Recorded
Song
Knowledge
LP
Style
Classification
Schema 6.3: How Styles and Musicians Interact
Source: Author’s conceptual development based on DiMaggio (1987) and Polos, Hannan and Carroll (2002)
6.5.2. Repertoire creates Networks
We can imagine three networks among musicians: (1) network of composers, (2)
network of interpreters and (3) network of composers and interpreters.
All three networks are important for understanding the structure of musicians’ field.
However, in this article, we will focus mostly on the network between composers and
interpreters, for it reveals one dimension of interpreters’ identity creation.
As interpreters change their repertoire, they are signaling a change in identity.
Conversely, if a composer’s songs are increasingly played, we could say that he became more
influential in defining the interpreters’ identities. The concept of Influence encompasses
several meanings. João Gilberto’s way of playing the guitar might be considered a kind of
influence. In this article, however, we define the concept of influence to the degree a
composer lends songs to interpreters.
From a network perspective, interpreters’ ego networks change as their identities
change (an ego network is the immediate network surrounding the actor under analysis). In
parallel, composer’s centrality may increase or decrease, as his influence increases or
decreases.
6.6. Methodology
In this section, we describe the database of artists, songs and records underlying our
analysis. Following, we display the methodology used for building the networks, which will
be the basis of our analysis.
175
6.6.1. Database
Period of analysis: Our period of analysis spans from 1958 to 1969. Specifically, it
starts with the launching of the LP “Canção do Amor Demais” (Vinicius de Morais, 1958),
ending with the LP “Elis Regina in London” (Elis Regina, 1969). The choice of these two LPs
is not arbitrary. The former established BN as a new style, while the later brings Elis Regina
interpreting Roberto Carlos, which contributed to blur MPB, JG and Tropicália borders.
Source of Information: we included in our database 89 long-plays recorded by selected
interpreters during this period (see Table 2 for a summary). The records included were those
in the web site http://cliquemusic.uol.com.br/artistas, which excludes compact records. The
interpreters chosen were:
•
BN: João Gilberto, Tom Jobim, Vinicius de Morais, Carlos Lyra and Nara Leão
•
MPB: Elis Regina, Chico Buarque and Edu Lobo
•
JG: Roberto Carlos, Erasmo Carlos and Wanderlea
•
“Baianos” and Tropicália59: Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil, Maria Bethânia, Gal Costa and
Mutantes
Table 6.2: Number of LPs consulted by Interpreter
Period
Main Interpreter
58-61
62-65
Chico Buarque
Carlos Lyra
2
66-67
68-69
2
2
3
2
Caetano Veloso
4
Erasmo Carlos
1
3
1
Edu Lobo
1
1
1
6
3
3
Gal Costa
1
2
Gilberto Gil
1
2
Elis Regina
João Gilberto
1
1
Maria Bethania
1
1
1
1
Mutantes
2
Nara Leão
Roberto Carlos
2
1
4
4
2
4
2
2
59
We maintained the label “Baianos” together with Tropicália in order to intergrate to this group Maria
Bethania, sister of Caetano Veloso. She resisted to join the “Tropicalist” group as a way of avoiding being
categorized as a member of any group.
176
Tom Jobim
3
Vinicius de Morais
2
Wanderlea
Total
10
1
1
1
4
1
3
2
1
25
26
28
Source: Author’s analysis
Although we dealt with a limited sample of interpreters, we believe each one is highly
representative of his or her represented style. From each LP, we included all songs, and their
composers. That totaled a database of 950 songs and 552 musicians, including the mentioned
interpreters, co-interpreters and composers.
From the LPs, we were able to build three basic relational databases:
•
LPs and interpreters
•
LPs and Songs
•
Songs and Composers
From these basic relational databases, we are able to construct a fourth database,
relating Interpreters and Composers: interpreter X is present in LP “A”, which contains song
“B”. Song “B” is a composition of composer “Y”. Hence, transitively, “X” borrowed a song
from “Y”, establishing a link. The Relational Database between composers and interpreters is
the basis of the networks we want to build in order to analyze the interpreters’ identity.
6.6.2. Sociograms
Sub-Periods: From the database of Composers and Interpreters, we built four
sociograms displaying graphically the relationships between composers and interpreters. The
four sociograms correspond to four sub-periods: (i) from 58 to 61, (ii) from 62 to 65, (iii)
from 66 to 67, and (iv) from 68 to 69 (Figures 4 to 7).
The reason the first 8 years are grouped in periods of 4 years is due to the low density
of relationships in these years. The field of BN was just starting by 1958, hence several of
selected interpreters either were not still recording, or were not producing in a relevant level.
Once the field achieved a high density (1966), we grouped the remaining years in periods of 2
years.
Filtering: In each of these periods, we counted the number of songs lent from each
composer to each interpreter. That produced an M by N matrix, where m is the number of
177
composers and n is the number of interpreters. Due to the large number of composers, we had
to choose the criteria to capture only those relationships relevant to our analysis. Therefore,
we maintained from each matrix only those relationships equal or higher than 2, which means
that for a composer/interpreter relationship be graphed, the composer had had to lend at least
2 song to that interpreter in the period under analysis.
Dichotomy: In addition, we transformed all relationships in dichotomy relationships.
For instance, if composer Y lent 10 songs to interpreter X, and composer Z lent 3 songs to
interpreter X, both relationships, Y to X and Z to X gained the value of 1, otherwise, if less
than 2 songs were lent, than the relationship receives the null value. Although networks
techniques permit the analysis of relationship strength, we investigated only whether there
exist relationships among artists. That also affects the interpretation of sociograms: the length
of the ties does not mean anything, but the existence of a relationship.
6.6.3. Network Analysis
From the relational database of composers and interpreters, we built a symmetric
(squared matrix) network of composers, in a similar way to Lima e Silva and his associates’
effort of mapping the network of Brazilian musicians (LIMA E SILVA; MEDEIROS
SOARES, et al, 2004). The composer’s relationship strength was established by the number
of songs in which they appear together60. From this network, we extracted Freeman’s
centrality degree61, in order to monitor the composers’ movements in the networks (see Table
4). The more central a composer is the more links she provides to interpreters
(WASSERMAN ; FAUST, 1994). As a consequence, the higher the centrality of a composer,
the higher was her influence.
Also, with the help of UCINET (BORGATTI; EVERETT ; FREEMAN, 2002), for
each period, we divided both composers and interpreters in two factions, in order to test the
inter-group and intra-group identity. The methodology of creating factions follows an
algorithm that maximizes the probability of a partition of nodes be similar to a clique (see
AMORIM; BARTHÉLEMY ; RIBEIRO, 1992, for details in the faction methodology). The
faction methodology has been utilized to explore the existence of latent, informal groups, by
grouping together nodes that have a high density of ties among each other. For instance,
60
Every time a composer appears, she receives a tie to herself and to peer composers.
The Freeman’s Degree Centrality measure is simply the number of ties to others. The normalized version of
this measure divides simple degree by the maximum degree possible, which is usually N-1, yielding measure
ranging from 0 to 1. See Wasserman and Faust (1994), pg. 178.
61
178
LAZZARINI ; JOAQUIM, 2004, used the faction methodology in order to identify potential
airline alliances. While Lazzarini and Joaquim identified five factions, we decided to locate
only two factions. The division into only two factions fits well our purpose of testing the
polarization of the musical fields in two poles.
Once the four factions are identified for each period (two factions of interpreters and
two factions of composers), we expect that strong identities will lead to high endogeny. If an
interpreter identity to her faction is strong, and highly differentiated from the opposing
faction, it is expected that her recorded songs will belong only to her respective composers’
faction. For instance, we expect that the Bossa Nova faction will play João Gilberto and his
colleagues’ compositions. Conversely, we wouldn’t expect them to play Roberto Carlos’s
songs. Adherence of interpreters to their faction identity is measured by the percentage of
songs recorded that belong to their expected composers’ faction (see Table 5). If the
percentage is high, it means that most of the faction’s recorded songs are borrowed from its
expected composers’ faction.
6.7. Results
The presentation of the results follows three steps. First, we describe the whole
network evolution: number of composers, number of ties and density (ties per composer) (see
Table 3 for reference). Next, we introduce the sociogram of composers and interpreters, in
order to visually illustrate the current arrangement of the actors. Finally, we comment on the
composers’ centrality in the composers’ network. This final analysis permits the grounding of
the qualitative insights from the sociogram into hard figures from the centrality degree.
Table 6.3: Network Evolution – Main Statistics
Period
58-61
62-65
66-67
68-69
Number of Composers
69
225
200
178
Number of Ties
750
1227
927
1119
Density (Ties/Composer)
10.87
5.45
4.64
6.29
Source: Author’s analysis
179
6.7.1. Emergence of BN and JG: 1958 to 1961
The appearance of BN in the phonographic industry counted with a low density of
composers (69), due to the low number of LPs recorded. Nevertheless, the density of ties is
high: 10.9, which indicate an important overlap of composers and LPs launched.
The analysis of the sociogram (see Figure 4) shows two distinct networks forming: BN
on the left and JG on the right. No ties uniting these to networks are visually present.
However, when we analyze the identity adherence at table 4, we observe that BN interpreters
to BN composers is high (99%), while JG adherence to its own composers’ faction is lower
(55%). This finding suggests that while BN identity was strong since its beginning, JG
identity was still in its emerging period.
Table 6.4: Interpreters and Composers Faction Adherence
Period
58-61
62-65
66-67
68-69
Interpreters BN (MPB)
3
13
27
15
Interpreters JG (Tropicália)
3
3
3
12
Composers BN (MPB)
35
95
72
77
Composers JG (Tropicália)
34
130
128
101
Interp/Comp adherence BN (MPB)
99%
82%
84%
79%
Interp/Comp adherence JG (Trop.)
55%
82%
82%
86%
Number of:
Source: Author’s analysis
When we shift to the analysis of the Freeman’s Centrality degree, Carlos Lyra appears
as the composer with highest number of ties, followed by Tom Jobim, Dorival Caymmi and
Ronaldo Boscoli. All BN composers (Table 5). João Gilberto comes only as the fifth in
ranking, in spite of his decisive contribution to establish BN’s rhythm. Nonetheless, João
Gilberto lower centrality degree confirms the interpreters’ account that Gilberto was mainly a
model for interpretation, rather than a source of songs (HOMEM DE MELLO, 1976). This
distinction between composer and interpreter became murkier during the Festivals in the
sixties.
Table 6.5: Freeman Centrality Degree for Selected Composers
Period
Composer
58-61
62-65
66-67
68-69
180
Caetano Veloso
N/A
176 (0,2%)
65 (0,4%)
1 (3,2%)
Tom Jobim
2 (4,6%)
34 (0,6%)
5 (1,5%)
2 (2,8%)
Vinicius de Morais
7 (2,7%)
2 (2,1%)
1 (3,3%)
3 (2,8%)
Capinan
N/A
N/A
14 (1%)
4 (2,7%)
Gilberto Gil
N/A
N/A
2 (2%)
5 (2,3%)
Edu Lobo
N/A
4 (1,8%)
9 (1,2%)
6 (2,2%)
Erasmo Carlos
N/A
6 (1,7%)
3 (1,8%)
7 (1,8%)
Roberto Carlos
N/A
7 (1,7%)
13 (1%)
8 (1,8%)
Torquato Neto
N/A
N/A
8 (1,2%)
9 (1,8%)
Ronaldo Bôscoli
4 (3,6%)
212 (0,1%)
57 (0,5%)
10 (1,5%)
Baden Powell
N/A
12 (1,1%)
10 (1,1%)
11 (1,4%)
Chico Buarque
N/A
N/A
4 (1,6%)
13 (1,4%)
Roberto Menescal
58 (0,8%)
N/A
N/A
14 (1,4%)
Carlos Lyra
1 (4,9%)
1 (2,4%)
7 (1,2%)
16 (1,1%)
Dorival Caymmi
3 (3,6%)
18 (0,8%)
32 (0,5%)
19 (0,9%)
Carlos Imperial
8 (2,3%)
N/A
6 (1,3%)
141 (0,2%)
João Gilberto
5 (2,7%)
N/A
155 (0,3%)
N/A
Newton Mendonça
6 (2,7%)
225 (0,1%)
159 (0,3%)
N/A
Zé Keti
N/A
9 (1,3%)
16 (1%)
N/A
Legend: Rank in centrality (share of normalized centrality)
Source: Author’s analysis
Interpreter
Composer
Jovem Guarda
Bossa Nova
Figure 6.4: Network of Interpreters and Composers from 1958 to 1961
Source: Author’s analysis graphed with UCINET
181
6.7.2. Consolidation of BN and JG: 1962 to 1965
From 1962 to 1965 (beginning of the Musical Festivals on TV), the BN and JG
movements gain scale. The number of LPs registered in this period increases to 25, and the
number of composers achieve the 225 mark. Density, however, decreases to 5.5, which
suggests a higher diversification in repertoire.
Interpreter
Composer
Bossa Nova
Jovem
Guarda
Figure 6.5: Network of Interpreters and Composers from 1962 to 1965
Source: Author’s analysis graphed with UCINET
The sociogram of this period (Figure 5) shows two separated networks, BN on the top
and JG on the bottom. As a matter of fact, only Castro Perret established the link between the
two movements, not enough to blur their frontiers. Identity adherence (table 4) shows a high
degree of differentiation between the two groups. 82% of the songs recorded by BN
interpreters are from the BN faction. The same figure is observed within the JG group.
Nonetheless, some important new players appear to the scene: Elis Regina and Nara
Leão (Table 5). Both will articulate not only traditional BN composers, but also traditional
samba composers, as well new composers, like Edu Lobo and Baden Powell, who
reinvigorated the BN and opened a way for MPB. Interestingly, we notice some disconnected
182
nodes from both major networks: Maria Bethania, borrowing songs from Caetano and Noel
Rosa. This marks the appearance of the “Baianos”, not yet well integrated to neither networks.
Carlos Lyra is still the most central composer in the network, followed by Vinicius de
Morais. However, new BN actors emerge: Edu Lobo in fourth and Zé Keti in ninth. In
parallel, as JG gets more institutionalized, its composers increase centrality: Erasmo Carlos
achieves the 6th position, followed by Roberto Carlos.
6.7.3. Emergence of MPB: 1966 to 1967
Although the number of years covered decreased to two years, the effervescence of
this period is revealed by its basic figures. The number of LPs achieves 26, the number of
composers achieves 200. Not surprisingly, the density of composers decreases to 4.6. As the
field becomes more institutionalized, interpreters seek higher diversity of repertoire, in order
to differentiate themselves.
A glance on the period’s sociogram (Figure 6) reveals the peak of the Festivals era.
MPB is emerging as a derivation of BN network. As a matter of fact, both networks are highly
interconnected,
which
suggests
a
relatively
integrated
community,
although
not
homogeneous. The BN core is highly dense, while the recently integrated MPB composers
appear as sparse and peripheral. Still separated, we observe JG network (on top). The
“Baianos” were absorbed by the BN/MPB community, lending songs mostly to MPB
interpreters (e.g. Elis Regina). Differentiation between the two groups is also observed from
the repertoire adherence (Table 4). 84% of the songs played by the BN/MPB faction stems
from its preferred composers. JG presents a comparatively high adherence, 82%.
The lack of bridges between the networks suggests the existence of a structural hole
that might be eventually explored. Caetano, Gil, Mutantes and other musicians yearned to
create a bridge between BN/MPB and JG, tapping this structural hole. However, there was an
obstacle to tackle: how to introduce a new style, if the boundaries between BN/MPB and JG
were so rigid?
183
Interpreter
Jovem Guarda
Composer
Bossa Nova e
MPB
Figure 6.6: Network of Interpreters and Composers from 1966 to 1967
Source: Author’s analysis graphed with UCINET
Actors’ centrality reveals some important changes, as MPB emerges. BN composers
are still central (Vinicius de Morais occupies the first position), however, Gilberto Gil already
achieved the second position, and Chico Buarque gained the fourth position in centrality rank
(Table 5). JG composers maintain the high centrality, due to JG increasing success: Erasmo
Carlos occupies the third position, and Carlos Imperial the sixth. Caetano Veloso, not as well
connected as Gilberto Gil, occupies the 65th position. In spite of this poor position, in
comparison to his peer Gil, Caetano will preserve higher freedom movement in the next phase
of Brazilian Music evolution.
6.7.4. Emergence of Tropicália: 1968 to 1969
In the period under analysis, the number of LPs slightly increased to 28, while the
number of composers decreased to 178. Density also dropped to 6.3, which suggest
diminishing diversity, as the field achieves higher consolidation.
The analysis of the sociogram (Figure 7), finally delivers the answer to our hypothesis:
the emergence of the Tropicália movement explores the structural hole between the BN/MPB
and JG groups.
The “Baianos” (Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil, Gal Costa) and other allies (e.g.
Mutantes) places themselves in the middle of the BN/MPB and JG movements, both as
184
interpreters, borrowing songs, and as composers, lending songs. JG interpreters will lend
songs to Tropicália, and play Tropicália songs. The same is true for the BN/MPB group.
Interpreter
Composer
Bossa Nova e
MPB
Tropicália
Jovem Guarda
Figure 6.7: Network of Interpreters and Composers from 1968 to 1969
Source: Author’s analysis graphed with UCINET
Endogeny in the BN/MPB faction finally falls to its historically lowest rate, 79%
(Table 4), indicating higher porosity in its repertoire delineation. In addition, the JG faction
increases its adherence (86%) and size (12 interpreters, in comparison to historical level of
three interpreters). Most of this increase in identity definition and sheer number of
components is due to the alliance of JG and Tropicália.
The emergence of Tropicália as an intermediary in the network granted its actors a
privileged position of influence. Caetano Veloso becomes the highest central composer in the
network, from a previous position of 65th, while Gilberto Gil occupies the fifth position (Table
5). Nonetheless, this shift does not mean the disappearance of previous well positioned
players. Traditional BN/MPB and JG actors are still important. Tom Jobim, Vinicius de
Morais, Capinan and Edu Lobo occupy respectively the 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 6th positions, while
Erasmo Carlos and Roberto Carlos occupy the 7th and 8th positions.
185
6.8. Discussion and Conclusion
Along this paper we aimed to show that Identity, especially “Embedded Identity” is
not fixed in time. As interpreters evolve in their careers, they seek diversification of
repertoire, which brings modification in their relationships, both to peer interpreters and to
composers, the source of songs. This diversification will provide to the interpreter a unique
identity, which will be key for her career advancement.
Nonetheless, identity change poses a paradox: how is it possible to change an identity,
while avoiding disruption with the Industry’s and public’s perception? Artists want to be
unique, but at the same time they cannot break entirely with their communities. Otherwise,
they might become marginalized in the industry.
One solution, we suggest, is the gradual change in one’s identity (which confirms one
of the approached suggested by PODOLNY, 1993). This happened with Elis Regina, who was
strongly tied to the BN community, and slowly started to introduce new composers (including
Gilberto Gil) to her repertoire. Another solution might be observed in the path chosen by
Caetano Veloso. His change in repertoire was abrupt, once he adopted songs from JG, and
occupied a structural hole left behind by BN/MPB and JG actors (following the second
approach suggested by Podolny, Caetano Veloso disrupted the symbolic order, by introducing
an identity that didn’t follow the existing cognitive dimension).
These two paths, Elis Regina’s and Caetano Veloso’s, suggest two ways how
innovation might occur in artistic networks. The former, evolutionary and always legitimate,
where small changes in repertoire yield a change in perceived identity in the long run. The
later, revolutionary and in the outskirts of legitimacy, explores a structural hole and creates a
hybrid style that could not be admitted before.
Let us return to our original problem. Companies and surrounding organizational
fields do enact labels that help them to organize the flow of information and objects. Weick’s
collapse of sensemaking occurs when the stream of experience doesn’t fit the established
cognitive schemata (WEICK, 1993). In the case we described, actors might pursue change by
slowly adapting their identities, without leading to a collapse in the existent sensemaking.
Podolny (1993) shows that if actors are rational, they will not go against the established
market’s identity, even if they occupy disfavored positions. Purposive attacks to the existent
category system might drive the whole market to an uncertainty crisis. However, as suggested
with the Tropicalia’s case, threats to the established symbolic order may occur when an
underlying and emergent position had been already accepted. We turn, then, to the concept of
186
Robust Action. Given that a field’s actors are rationally bounded, they are not able to keep the
concrete embedded identities reconciled with their shared collection of categorical identities.
As Martin (2002) shows, the necessity of a tightly coupled symbolic system exists only at the
societal level, not at the individual level. As a result, strategic actors are able to manipulate
their embedded identities in order to reach a position that will enable them, at a favorable
moment, to generate new categorical identities. There is certainly more strain on the later
effort, for it the creation of a new categorical identity implies changes in the overall symbolic
system.
6.8.1. Future Research Opportunities
The insights observed in this research are limited due to its partial sample of
interpreters and titles collected. Future research might benefit from expanding both the
interpreters and LPs analyzes.
Furthermore, once the network becomes closer to the population, more advanced
social network techniques might be applied, from block modeling to structural roles analyses.
From the composers’ network, it is possible to understand how actors’ structural hole
measures evolve, vis-à-vis the evolution of styles.
Finally, the expansion of the sample to cover recent years might provide a better
insight whether embedded identities stay stable, vis-à-vis the formal identities attributed by
music critics.
187
7. Concluding Remarks
Throughout the papers in this thesis I attempted to describe the processes underlying
the change in fields. This effort started with the introduction of the idea that fields could vary
in their configuration. In order to analyze the Jazz field, I borrowed and adapted the idealtypes proposed by Anan and Peterson and created two models: centralized and decentralized
fields.
While analyzing the Brazilian music field, my focus was on integration and
polarization in a field.
In both cases, the transition from one situation to the next entails a change in source of
legitimacy. In the case of Jazz, we observed the emergence of a strong professional body,
which struggled around the future and the past of Jazz. This conflict was followed by a
struggle around the absorption of external influences and the introduction of avant-garde
elements. In the Brazilian music field, I described how the low-brow/high-brow, national and
international categories were bridged by a new style. In all these cases, the bridging between
opposing
categories
(internal/external,
low/high,
national/international,
past/future,
commercialism/art, commercialism/folk, etc.) was never unproblematic. On the contrary, it
involved individual and collective uncertainty and legitimacy crises.
My concern was to add to these debates (well recorded in the secondary bibliography)
an empirical ground. For that purpose, I reconstructed the social networks among the Jazz
musicians, and the symbolic networks among Brazilian musicians. To be sure, we should not
confound the social network construct with Bourdieu’s concept of field. Nevertheless, the
former helps us to refine our analysis of a social topography, complementary to Bourdieu’s
construct. If this is reasonable, we are able to analyze action from both perspectives, while
avoiding any theoretical reductionism.
Fields are the social spaces where individuals invest their capitals, commit their
careers and signal to other individuals the acceptance of the rules of the game, sources of
legitimacy and authority, and common institutions. From this perspective, social networks
provide us at the same time the finger prints of social action and patterns of interaction. As a
consequence, changes in the social network (or symbolic network) might signal changes in
the field. By grounding my analyses on the qualitative research based on secondary
bibliography I attempted to show that these changes in the social and symbolic networks
corresponded to relevant historical shifts in both field. The question now shifts to what
happened within these changes, from centralized to decentralized (Jazz) or from polarized to
integrated (Brazilian music).
188
Changes in the field’s meta-logics entail that the regularities embodied in the expected
career tracks fall down. When these meta-logics are disrupted, individuals face both
uncertainty and a higher degree of freedom to act. Such “freer” action should not be
interpreted as an agency power independent from social structures. On the contrary: as
institutional spheres become uncoupled from each other, actors are able to perform arbitrage
between opposing legitimacy sources. Should we hastily agree with Bourdieu that one’s
interpretative schemata (habitus) is revised only during periods of crises (BOURDIEU,
1984b)? To be sure, Lahire (2002) criticizes Bourdieu for not focusing on the turning points
in anyone’s trajectory: the first job, the first promotion, first son, etc. In each turning point,
individuals have to test whether the expected (institutionalized) path will repeat. Disruptions
in this individual’s trajectory might correspond for one’s subjective perspective, as tragic as a
generalized crisis in a field.
Perhaps change comes in a subtler way. As everyday life poses challenges for
individuals to reenact the existing social structures (GIDDENS, 1986), disturbances lead to
the establishment of unexpected links and relations. This murky change in the social
structures, driven by everyday action, is captured by Padgett and Ansell’s concept of robust
action: new categories for action are not born yet. But still, action is still possible and
necessary: Caetano Veloso borrowed songs from the Jovem Guarda, Charlie Parker developed
his solos at jam sessions already in the late thirties and Miles Davis introduced some R&R
guitar in his music, before the emergence of the category “Fusion”. Subtle action precedes the
emergence of new identities (WHITE, 1992a).
Eventually, new identities are enacted and struggle for recognition. A conflictive
period might be unavoidable, as we observed in the jazz field and in the Brazilian music field.
But when this conflicts became explicit, the defenders of the opposing parties claimed
legitimacy for their actions on common sources. Both “Nationalist BN” and “Tropicalia”
claimed to be the heirs of João Gilberto. In a similar way, both New Orleans revivalists and
Boppers claimed to reinforce the improvisational character of Jazz. From these examples I
infer that these conflicts play an important role in the institutionalization process within fields.
At the same time that they are crucial for understanding the horizontal relationship among
identities, they also help us to analyze the basis of the coming consensus. Following Simmel,
conflicts have the important function of shedding light on latent values. With Weber, we
agree that new institutions are at the same time the outcome of conflicts and the crystallization
of latent values. This process describes the internal struggle in the jazz field. The category
“Jazz” itself was enacted and reenacted in order to absorb a plurality of styles.
189
When conflict emerges between internal and external categories, as in the example of
Bossa Nova, when an external category is compared to an internal category, what are on stake
is not latent values that might unite both categories in a wider label. In this case, it is the inner
category (Jazz) and its robustness that is tested against disturbances. Conflict is still important
in testing the internal ethos of musicians and critics, but in contrast with internal struggles,
external influences receive a different treatment. A selective absorption of its elements and its
subsequent segregation (but not exclusion) to the community’s fringes suggests that the
internal category is strong and yet flexible enough to resist to and dialogue with external
influences.
As Danto (1964) affirms, the richness of an art world is assessed by the plurality of
aesthetical statements coexisting in the same social space. What I tried to flash out throughout
this thesis is the institutional and social network dynamics underlying the diversification in
the Jazz and the Brazilian music worlds.
190
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Strategy Among NCAA Basketball Teams. Academy of Management Journal, v.38, n.4,
p.1052-1074. 1995.
YANOW, S. Bossa Nova. All Music. Available at www.allmusic.com . Accessed at May, 10,
2005
ZUCKERMAN, E. W.;KIM, T.-Y., et al. Robust Identities or Nonentities? Typecasting in the
Feature-Film Labor Market. American Journal of Sociology, v.108, n.5, p.1018-1074. 2003.
Sources of Primary Data (all web sites were consulted during the year of 2005 and 2006)
ALEXANDER, S. The Red Hot Jazz Archive. Available at: www.redhotjazz.com.
KERNFELD, B. The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
2001. 3000 p.
LORD, T. The Jazz Discography. Taylor Way, West Vancouver, BC, Canada Lord Music
Reference Inc. 2005.
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PFEFFER, M. L. Big Bands Database Plus. Available at: http://nfo.net/.
YANOW, S. All Media Guide. Available at: www.allmusic.com
www.crazyjazz.co.uk
DOWN BEAT MAGAZINE, 1962 to 1969, Volumes 29 to 36.
CLIQUE MUSIC - http://cliquemusic.uol.com.br/artistas
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Glossário
Art World: Becker (1982), inspired by Danto (1964), defines an Art World as
[E]veryone whose activity has anything to do with the end result.
That includes the people who make materials, instruments, and
tools; the people who create the financial arrangements that make
the work possible; the people who see to distributing the works
that are made; the people who produced the tradition of forms,
genres, and styles the artist works with and against; and the
audience. For symphonic music, the list of cooperating people
might include composers, players, conductors, instrument makers
and repairers, copyists, managers and fundraisers, designers of
symphony halls, music publishers, booking agents, and audiences
of various kinds. For contemporary painting, an equivalent list
would include painters, makers and purveryors of canvases,
paints, and similar materials, collectors, art historians, critics,
curators, dealers, managers and agents, such auxiliary personnel
as, say, lithographic printers, and so on. (BECKER, forthcoming).
This definition of Art World is close to DiMaggio and Powell’s definition of organizational
field, which may be rephrased as the set of relevant actors in the creation of art works. In
contrast with an organizational field, Becker focuses on the trajectories of actual pieces of
work. As an art world becomes more developed, a criticism body emerges, which is able to
define the objects that will be considered art. Compare this conception with Bourdieu’s
(1993d). In comparison with the concept of “field”, “Art World” lacks the idea of struggle and
power developed in the idea of field. Still, because it is a more neutral term, I deploy it
whenever I aim at a concept wider than field.
Coupled (Systems): Parsons (1959) provides a good example of a coupled system: schools
exist in order to socialize children in the adult world, as well as select the brightest ones to
college. Also, Parsons suggests that women pursue college education in order to become good
role models to their children. Hence, we state that in a coupled system, all parts and
functions are connected to each other and the feedback loops are predictable and
analyzable. On the school system example, one may ask what would happen if women did
want to pursue their careers, instead of simply pursuing high education in order to become
good mothers. Already in the functionalist tradition we observe sharp criticism to this
conception. Merton (1968) analyzed the unpredicted effects of social action. Weick (1976)
provides a full rupture, suggesting the existence of loose coupling systems. Loose coupling
systems are present when several means can produce the same result, there is loose
coordination, weaker regulation, and slow feedback time. If feedback times are slower,
organizations will not adapt immediately to environment changes. In contrast, it will probably
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buffer its internal operations from minor changes, while providing autonomy to boundaryspanning individuals to deal with environmental turbulence. As a result, the only sub-systems
will adapt to environmental changes, preserving the overall system’s consistency. Meyer and
Rowan (1991) advanced Weick’s proposition, by suggesting that boundary spanning
individuals might be able to decouple the signals to the environment from the internal
organizational mechanisms. As a result, the signals sent to the environment would not be
necessarily representative of the organization’s actual processes. Scott (2001) suggests
that although the idea of decoupling was posited as opposing to the idea of coupling, one
should consider that organizations fall at a continuum between these two poles. In other
words, it is impossible complete coupling or decoupling.
Decoupled (Systems): see Coupling.
Field: In the “Introduction” and in the “Fields and Networks” sections I provide two
definitions of field. The first is the neo-institutionalist’s most common intuition that a field
comprises all involved actors who are involved or impact directly a sector or industry. The
second comes from Bourdieu, where a field is a social space where actors struggle in two
different levels: they compete to amass capital (especially symbolic) and they struggle
for the right of defining what is valuable for the field’s members. I rarely use
“organizational field”, for it is too close to the “art world” concept, and it requires a focus on
the “organization” as an underlying and well defined sub-unit. Rather, I prefer to use
Bourdieu’s “field”, for it refers directly to the set of individual musicians engaged in the
creation of music and struggling for recognition, and to other actors, like critics, producers,
etc.
Institution: Scott (2001; 2005) postulates that institutions are “variously comprised of
‘cultural-cognitive, normative and regulative elements that, together with associated activities
and resources, provide stability and meaning to social life”. (SCOTT, 2001, p. 48). This
definition of institution might be too broad for an economist. North (1992), for instance,
defines “institutions” only those formal mechanisms that regulate social and economic life.
DiMaggio (1998) points out that the economists’ definition of institution fits well a family of
theories closer to rational choice. Sociologists, in comparison, find “institutions” everywhere,
from a handshake to a classification system. I espouse the sociologist definition of institution.
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Highly institutionalized fields are marked by a intense sharing of cognitive schemata, strong
professional ethos (in both musicians and critics bodies) and selection mechanisms, and
emergence of formal institutions like academic programs.
Institutionalized: see Institution.
Organizational Field: see Field.
Social Network: see Structure.
Social Structure: see Structure.
Symbolic Network: Ansell (1997) defines a symbolic network as the set of relations among
diverse discourses. In contrast with a social network, it doesn’t entail an actual intearaction
among social actors. The links between discourses might be defined as opposition, consent,
articulation, etc. Ansell recovers the history of insurgence of the working class in France,
from 1887 to 1894 in order to show how collective action was possible as a collective
discourse emerged from previously conflictive ridden discourses. Mische (2006) performs a
similar analysis by describing how the Collor impeachment was possible as conflicting
disourses converged around the impeachment goal.
Structure: The term “structure” is a powerful metaphor found in many all sociological
schools. Whenever I refer to this broadly defined metaphor, I use the term “social structure”.
As Sewell (1992) states, the word “structure” hasn’t received yet a clear-cut definition.
Maryanski and Turner (2000) approach the subject tracing the use of this term to Spencer and
later to Durkheim. Durkheim (1999) describes a society as increasingly structured as it
becomes more differentiated. Parsons (1949) borrows from Durkheim the elements for his
functionalism: differentiation has to be followed by integration and the generation of a
“conscience collective”. As a result, Parsons offers a sophisticated theory on how the
personality, cultural, relational and institutional dimensions are entangled together in a selfordering system. Nadel (1957) performed a critical analysis on the Parsonian system,
disentangling the actual social interactions from the roles held by social actors. Nadel defines
a social Structure simply as “an overall system, network or pattern of relations” (p. 12).
By “Network” (sometimes I call it a Social Network Structure), Nadel meant “the
interlocking of relationships whereby the interactions implicit in one determine those
occurring in others” (p. 16). As Sewell (1992, p. 6) shows, while structures refer to the
principles underlying action, the social system refers to the pattern of relations. As a
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consequence, what Nadel chose to call “structure” is closer to Giddens’ “social system”.
DiMaggio and Powell classic text on organizational fields (1983) depicts the level of
structuration as a key variable in a field. Scott (2005) suggests that a social structure
encompasses “schemas, rules, norms, routines”. By including these categories, closer to social
practices, Scott suggests a concept closer to Gidden’s suggestion of structure: “[Structure is
constituted by] rules and resources, recursively implicated in the reproduction of social
systems. Structure exists only as memory traces, the organic basis of human
knowledgeability, and as instantiated in action” (GIDDENS, 1986, p. 377). Hence,
“structuration” in the neo-institutional tradition follows closely Giddens’ proposition. It is
both the set of schemas, beliefs and rules, as well as the hierarchy among them, or the field’s
meta-logics. As far as neo-institutionalists are concerned with how clashing institutional
spheres are organized through a hierarchy, I’ll favor the use of “meta-logics” term for the
neo-institutional understanding of structure.
As shown on section 2.3, Bourdieu’s concept of structure is grounded on the objective
difference of amount of capitals among social actors. As a consequence, Bourdieu grounds his
idea of structure on an objectivistic approach. Nevertheless, this structure is enacted by
individual actors and represented by one’s habitus. As far as the habitus is at the same time
structured and structuring of social relations, Bourdieu attempts to avoid the objectivist and
subjectivist chasm. Yet, he seems to never give up the idea of an objective social structure
which is empirically given by the global distribution of capitals. Although the chapter “Fields
and Networks” explores the intersection between Bourdieu’s and the social network analysis,
its aim is not a synthesis between the two concepts of structure. I chose to call “structure” the
pattern of relations given in social interactions (hence, in agreement with Nadel). In
contrast, section 2.4 and 2.5 show that Bourdieu borrows from Simmel the same elements that
fed the social network concept of structural equivalence. Because the “capital” and the
“interactional” dimensions are not always coupled to each other, I claim that it is legitimate to
reserve the word “Structure” for the former approach, while keeping the latter as an actor’s
attribute. To be sure, the term structure is used in different ways other than Nadel’s
proposition whenever I aim at discussing the other theoretical propositions.
Uncoupled (Systems): see Coupling.
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