(Photo credit: AP Photo/Bob Schutz)
Archie Shepp – Attica Blues
(Recorded January 24–26, 1972; Impulse! AS-9222)
Music discussed:
Attica Blues
Steam (Pt. 1)
Steam (Pt. 2)
Blues for Brother George Jackson
Ballad For A Child
Archie Shepp – tenor saxophone and soprano saxophone
Brass and reed section
Clifford Thornton – cornet
Roy Burrows, Charles McGhee, Michael Ridley – trumpet
Charles Greenlee, Charles Stephens, Kiane Zawadi – trombone
Hakim Jami – euphonium
Clarence White – alto saxophone
Roland Alexander, Billy Robinson – tenor saxophone
James Ware – baritone saxophone
String section:
John Blake, Leroy Jenkins, Lakshinarayana Shankar – violin
Ronald Lipscomb, Calo Scott – cello
Marion Brown – alto saxophone, bamboo flute, flute, percussion
Walter Davis, Jr. – electric piano, piano
Dave Burrell – electric piano
Cornell Dupree – guitar
Roland Wilson, Gerald Jemmott – Fender bass
Jimmy Garrison – bass
Beaver Harris – drums
Ollie Anderson, Nene DeFense, Juma Sultan – percussion
Vocals:
Henry Hull, Joe Lee Wilson – vocals
William Kunstler, Bartholomew Gray – narrator
Joshie Armstead, Albertine Robertson – backing vocals
Frederic Rzewski – Coming Together/Attica/Les Moutons De Panurge
(1974, Opus One)
Music discussed:
Coming Together
Attica
Piano, Electric Piano – Frederic Rzewski
Jon Gibson – Alto Saxophone
Richard Youngstein – Bass
Alvin Curran – Synthesizer
Garrett List – Trombone
Karl Berger – Vibraphone
Joan Kalisch – Viola
Steve Ben Israel – Voice
Sam Melville – Text
September 13th, 2021 marked the 50th anniversary of the massacre which occurred at Attica State Penitentiary in New York State, the deadliest prison uprising in United States history. Driven to rebellion by inhuman conditions and racist-fueled abuse, on September 9th, 1971 the prisoners at Attica took control of the prison, demanding humane treatment. Four days later, hundreds of state troopers retook Attica, leaving 33 inmates and 10 correctional officers and civilians dead. The Attica rebellion immediately caught the attention of the American public, and has lived in infamy since. The lessons of Attica are no less relevant today, seen in the deplorable conditions at Rikers Island, or the recent prison uprising in Philadelphia. This edition of TNB will look at the Attica revolt, and two artists who took the message of Attica and reacted to it through their music.
In July 1971, a politically motivated group of Attica prisoners organized themselves as the Attica Liberation Faction and sent a letter with 27 demands to the Head of the New York Department of Correction, Russell Oswald, and to Governor Nelson Rockefeller. The demands were prompted by terrible conditions at the prison – the prisoners sought reform of parole hearings, better medical care, the end of punishment based on race and political belief, the end of solitary confinement as punishment for minor infractions, and improvement in wages for work done in prison. Unfortunately, these demands did not result in any immediate change, and conditions at Attica reached an exploding point.
It did not take much to cause that explosion. On September 9, 1971, pent-up frustration from inmates caused an altercation with guards that quickly got out of control. The inmates took control of the D yard, and took 42 guards and civilians hostage, demanding that the government make the changes they had been seeking. The inmates set up impromptu leadership and their primary spokesperson was Richard X. Clark, a Muslim and a pacifist who insisted that staff members taken prisoner not be harmed. A tense standoff ensued over four days, which drew widespread media attention. Progressive leaders became involved in ending the stalemate, with politicians and community leaders serving as negotiators. Famed lawyer William Kuntzler was a lead negotiator and later represented many of the prisoners. Eventually, Bobby Seale, leader of the Black Panthers, visited in a show of solidarity.
Attica inmates negotiating with Commissioner of Prisons Russell Oswald. Richard X. Clark is seated at right side of table in center
Yet all of this effort and attention was fruitless. Governor Nelson Rockefeller, who had his eye on winning the White House, did not want to be perceived as weak on crime and would not make substantive concessions, including refusing the prisoners’ request for amnesty. Sensing that delay would be perceived as weakness, Rockefeller ordered an overwhelming attack by State Troopers on the prison. The police involved were driven by revenge, and indiscriminately used shotguns, rifles and gas on unarmed prisoners. Inmates and hostages alike were killed.
National Guard troopers before the assault
(Photo credit: AP)
The botched raid was quickly followed by an extensive cover-up. The Governor’s office falsely told the New York Times that the civilians killed by state troopers were murdered by the inmates. Prosecutors aggressively pursued cases against the prisoners, but there was no investigation of the methods used by the State Troopers who retook the prison. Prisoners widely reported that prison staff retaliated by torturing those who took part in the rebellion. To this day, documents related to the State’s actions that lead to this massacre remain sealed.
It is in times of crisis and challenge that we most need the arts, to help us digest, interpret, and feel the world. It did not take long for musicians to respond to Attica. Two albums from the world of creative music helped process Attica are Archie Shepp’s Attica Blues, and Frederic Rzewski’s Coming Together/Attica/Les Moutons De Panurge.
Archie Shepp was first to react, recording Attica Blues only four months after the prison rebellion. While Attica Blues is born out of protest and outrage, Shepp’s masterpiece does not limit itself to a literal reaction to the rebellion. Rather, Shepp (with his drummer, Beaver Harris, who wrote the lyrics to the album) addresses the universal way that the exploitation and degradation of humans endangers us all. The album starts with the track “Attica Blues,” which uses urgent electric guitar and the high energy vocals of gospel singer Carl Hall to deliver a palpable message to the listener – “I got the feeling that something’s goin’ wrong and I’m worried ’bout the human soul!” The message is clear – the conditions that led to Attica are not just a tragedy that affected the prisoners in Attica, but part of an oppression that undermines humanity itself.
The album’s cover, which perfectly captures it’s political and musical depth
There’s not enough room here to itemize the great aspects of Attica Blues and its enduring relevance. The album features string arrangements by the legendary Cal Massey, using the incredible violin playing of John Blake, Leroy Jenkins and Lakshinarayana Shankar. More poetry written by Beaver Harris is read between songs by William Kuntzler, who brings a firsthand experience from Attica to his readings. Harris’ words spoken by Kuntzler are no less relevant today. For example he states “some people think that they are in their rights and on command to take a Black man’s life.” Attica Blues contemplates the same concerns that gave rise to the Black Lives Matter movement, four decades later.
Shepp masterfully deploys a range of styles on this record. In addition to the funk and gospel-based opening track, the album has a churning R&B-based instrumental in “Blues for Brother George Jackson.” This track is a tribute to George Jackson, a prisoner whose death at San Quentin Prison in the August of 1971, served as a prelude to the Attica uprising one month later.
Perhaps the most memorable moments of this album are on “Steam Part 1” and “Steam Part 2,” which dominate the first side of the record. This two part song is sung by Joe Lee Wilson, whose deep baritone is backed by Massey’s complex strings, and together bring an overwhelming emotion to the words “Summer, soft as the rain, and sweet as the end of pain.” Both parts of “Steam” capture in the most poetic terms the terrible reality other humans are subjected to – degraded to the point where death itself is a sweet release.
But there is much hope on this rich album as well. Shepp pays tribute to touchstones of Black culture in “Invocation to Mr. Parker” (for Charlie Parker), and “Good Bye Sweet Pops,” (for Louis Armstrong, who had recently died). Fittingly, Attica Blues ends with the voice of a child, Massey’s eight year old daughter, who sings hopefully “It’s quiet dawn, and life moves on.” A fitting end to one of the truly great politically-minded albums.
Frederick Rzewski
Another landmark album reacting to Attica is Frederic Rzewski’s Coming Together/Attica/Les Moutons De Panurge. Rzewski, most famously the composer of The People United Will Never Be Defeated!, is often an overtly political artist. Rzewski believed the Attica rebellion was a “milestone” because it laid bare the oppression of the police state, compelling citizens to take action. Rzewski looked at letters written by prisoner Sam Melville, who was slain in the retaking of the prison. The track “Coming Together” is formed from an excerpt from one of those letters, which depicts life in prison as not just painful, but surreal. The text of the letter is here, but you really have to hear the performance to appreciate how Rzewski has created an empathic depiction with the mind of a human being subjected to challenge.
Radical actor Steve Ben Israel performed the text, repeating groups of the letter’s words in a steadily increasing and frenzied desperation. The music is a remarkable backdrop. Rzewski creates a structure that sets an optional ensemble size, and instructs the performers to play in a modal framework with one note per beat, but in a prescribed pattern. However, the other performers follow the same rhythmic pattern, but with a differing set of notes. The cumulative effect is kaleidoscopic, gripping, and most importantly focuses the listener on the words penned by Mellville only months before he was killed. The next track, “Attica” is also inspired from the same events, borrowing the words of Richard X. Clark. It’s also great music, but doesn’t have the force of “Coming Together”, which is an all-time classic.
We at TNB hope you enjoy this remarkable music, and that it brings some attention to an enduring problem for our society. The United States has the largest prison population in the world, and while there have been some superficial reforms since the Attica rebellion, 50 years later, many of the same problems persist in our prisons. These problems have been even further exacerbated by the COVID-19 epidemic, which has exposed how the jails are overcrowded, understaffed, degrading, filled with racism, and mired in a mindset that values punishment over rehabilitation. Further, prisons continue to be hidden far from society, and the mental and experiential gap between most citizens and prisoners is immense, contributing to a lack of empathy between these groups. But the continuing problems with our judicial and prison system are a reflection on how unjust our society continues to be. Shepp and Rzewski show that the arts have an important role in signaling the problem to those who will listen, and creating a world of understanding and empathy that will enable people to enact change.
The aftermath
(Photo credit: NY Daily News via Getty Images)