Geri Allen
Hankus Netsky by Mimi Bernadin
Hankus Netsky, the Chair of Contemporary Improvisation; Jazz Studies; and the Director of the Jewish Music Ensemble at New England Conservatory Remembers Geri Allen in This Touching Tribute
As chair of Jazz Studies at New England Conservatory in the late 1980s and 1990s I felt that my primary job was to further the vision of our school's former president, Gunther Schuller, and our department's founding chair, Carl Atkins, who sought to create a department that featured teachers who were truly innovative creative artists. Our jazz piano chair had only been occupied by a few individuals since the early 1970s, notably Jaki Byard and Fred Hersch and, when Fred left the position just before my appointment, I brought in Stanley Cowell who seemed to be a perfect fit for our program. But, alas, Stanley eventually decided that the commute was a bit much for him and, in 1989, I needed to embark on another search.
The pianist whose music spoke to me most at that time was Geri Allen, only in her early thirties, but clearly a major new musical voice. I felt a deep affinity with her music, informed as it was by that of Thelonious Monk and Eric Dolphy (the subject of her Masters Thesis at the University of Pittsburgh). It was, in my opinion, a breath of fresh air in a milieu that was, at the time, dominated almost entirely by pianists who focused on tricky "chord scales" played at hyper-speed or brooding and simplistic ballads that presented little in the way of harmonic interest. In contrast, Geri seemed to know exactly where she came from, evoking the grand piano traditions of her native Detroit, the city that had spawned, among others, Hank Jones, Tommy Flanagan, Barry Harris, and Alice Coltrane. She also seemed to convey in her music the spirit of our generation, transmitted to her by her most significant mentor, Detroit Art Ensemble founder Marcus Belgrave, a sureness about the interconnectedness of African American "classical traditions," including a view of jazz as a unique American contribution to the continuum of twentieth century music.
I was delighted when she accepted my invitation to join our faculty, and she wasted no time in getting to work. For one thing, every jazz pianist in our department now needed to purchase Brahms' 51 exercises for the piano and begin every practice session with them, a definite change from previous teachers. Also, instead of giving them printed music or lead sheets, she held students responsible for doing their own transcriptions, having them memorize intricate pieces by such pianists as Mary Lou Williams, McCoy Tyner, and Cecil Taylor. She also reached out to other NEC faculty, including Dave Holland, with whom she performed in a duo Jordan Hall recital and later recorded several CDs. And I was overjoyed that we connected on a deeper personal level, since both of were raising our first daughters at the time (in her case Laila and in our case, Leah).
Geri was planning to intensify her work at NEC in her third year, taking on an ensemble to play her trailblazing arrangements and chamber compositions and a commitment to develop a jazz history course. Instead, she found herself unable to turn down an offer for a full-time faculty appointment from Howard University, her undergrad Alma Mater, where she taught for the rest of that decade. But I was honored that, as her teaching, recording, and performing career continued to blossom, she stayed in touch with me, always checking in when she needed a reference or was contemplating a new career move. I was particularly gratified when she granted an interview to my own academic mentor, Mark Slobin, for his book project on the impact of Detroit-born musicians on the international music scene.
Geri's contribution to music and the academy for the past three-and-a-half decades is clearly one of the most significant bodies of work in our lifetime, whether with her various groundbreaking ensembles, her adventurous trios, her joyous solo outings, or her glorious recordings and performances with such diverse artists as Betty Carter, Oliver Lake, and Ornette Coleman. As her music lives on, I join many of our NEC alumni and faculty in mourning her premature passing; may her memory be a blessing to all.