Wynton Marsalis Hates Rap, But Not Me

Dear Readers,
Last Saturday I went to a formal ball at the American Ambassador's residence, Spaso House. The ball was held in honor of "Baba Leto" or Russian Indian summer. I had never been to Spaso House, which is like a mini-White house for the ex-pat community, so I was pretty excited. Plus I got to dress up in my slinky black dress and, joy of joys, wear a tiara. My friend from church and economic diplomat for Great Britain, NGD, had a pre-party at his apartment. I really hate to go to "grown-ups" apartments in Russia, it just makes me resent my perfectly serviceable (rent-free) home.
Anyway, NGD's apartment had 12 feet ceilings, two bedrooms, two bathrooms and a kitchen that must have an American passport. We had zakuski (snacks) and drinks. I had my first semi-official Pimm's cup. NGD is the mold from which all other British gentlemen were cast. He is smart, droll and looks dashing in a tux, which, of course, he owns.

Spaso House is grand and beautiful, everything you would expect in the Ambassadors residence. The party included heavy appetizers and a full, open bar. I drank much more champagne than was completely necessary, but I was trying to maximize the return on my investment of $55 (ticket price).

Well, towards the middle of the evening a rumor started spreading that Wynton Marsalis would stop by. About an hour after the rumor started, it came to fruition. Wynton came in and walked right by my group. He caught my eye, stopped, smiled and waved. Who can resist a woman in a tiara? Wynton started to play with the orchestra. People flooded onto the dance floor. NGD did not want to miss an opportunity to dance while Wynton and asked me to join him on the dance floor. Now all of you who know me well know that I am fly enough to mingle (not) but too fly to dance, but the tiara got the best of me. So we danced to the soulful stylings of Wynton Marsalis.

Soon enough, the party was over. An embassy acquaintance invited Wynton to come back to NGD's apartment for the after-party. The talk of the walk back to the NGD's apartment was whether Wynton would actually show. Well, 45 minutes into the after-party, in walks Wynton and the fireworks commence immediately.

I should say by way of background that Wynton Marsalis is a black, jazz musician from New Orleans. He is also never met a cuss word he didn't like. For some of the Embassy crowd, for whom a great deal of life is theoretical this was a bit shocking. The conversation turned towards politics and the fireworks turned into cannon fire. It is really difficult to explain the vibe at this point. Wynton is a man of many and fierce opinions.
His politics lean Democratic, but with a healthy dose of suspicion for all politicians. He admires the presidents cleverness, but to call him a fan of the Bush administration would be a step too far. The embassy crowd was very uneasy with the manner and content of the opinions Wynton shared. I am still try to process why. I too was a little uncomfortable, but my discomfort stemmed from the fact that I thought the discussion was too frank for the audience. Wynton dropped the "f " and "m-f " bombs so much I thought for sure NGD's carpet was going to catch fire.

The conversation meandered towards music at which point the fireworks went nuclear. Wynton said " I have not listened to the radio since 1976" . He thinks that no music made after that point has any musical value at all. He despises all rap music, even the very early incarnations. I made a admittedly weak defense of rap music that was immediately shot down. I will embellish my defense her and say that while there is a lot in rap that has no social value and is very misogynistic, dismissing the entire canon of an 30-year-old art form is extreme and flat incorrect. What about the Roots, Bilal, Gangstarr, lots of other people using rap to elevate the consciousness (political, social or otherwise) of the listener?

We talked with Wynton until about 3:30 am, at which point he left to pack for his 6 am flight (private jet to Seattle). We all talked about him till around 4 am and then the party broke up for good.

In the words of one party-goer, what a strange and memorable night.