Tribute to Steve Cannon
(1935-2019)[/trx_title]
Charlie Parker. Bird. Yardbird. While he was one of the most important figures in the development of jazz and in particular Bop, not all jazz aficionados celebrated his sound, but Steve did. It’s because he could hear and see the notes between the notes. Better than most.
It makes sense. Steve’s affinity for Bird was due, in part, to the intensity of a music that was always channeling and challenging a kaleidoscope of different shapes and sizes in technicolor. Be bop de bop de bop. Steve saw the world through jazz. Bop bop de bop. Even the cadence of his voice was jazz. A cool humming breeze. Bop de de bop. Bird Flight.
Steve was an intellectual eclecticist. He majored in history in both his degrees. He enjoyed reading contemporary French theorists, and had a great appreciation for experimental visual art. He was a member of Umbra, authored the best selling novel, Groove, Jive and Bang Around; and co-founded an independent publishing house with Joe Johnson and Ishmael Reed that focused on multicultural literature in the 1970s. After he retired from Medgar Evers College in 1985, he sought ways to connect the arts to his community in the Lower East Side. Becoming legally blind from glaucoma did not stop him. Before it was considered fashionable, Steve turned his home into an informal salon, an incubator for literary, visual and performing artists from every corner of the world. Steve co-conceived the Stoop Poetry Workshop on his front steps, and soon a tremendous collection of poets participated in the Workshop. By 1990, he created the literary magazine A Gathering of the Tribes, which would formally become an arts organization, a gallery and a publishing house that would inspire generations of artists, activists and intellectuals of every stripe. He was a trailblazing tribesman.
Unfettered by the chains of the canon, Steve encouraged folks to explore different types of art. He participated in local literary scenes like the Nuyorican Poets Cafe and the Bowery Poetry Club and supported the artists who performed there; mentored many writers; inspired many notable artists and musicians; hosted many exhibits, concerts and literary events at Tribes; published poets and writers under Tribes’ imprint, Fly by Night Press; and he also sponsored The Charlie Parker Festival, which was held annually in August. In doing so, he provided artists a platform to promote their work, but more importantly, he created programming that taught and engaged members of the community who have seldom, if ever, attended literary or artistic events.
Mentor, pioneer, icon, prophet. Professor, poet, novelist, playwright, publisher, heckler. The blind guy.
That blind guy who saw more than most sighted people, always encouraged the exchange of alternative points of view traditionally overlooked by mainstream media. He was a multiculturalist of the first order and was supportive of artists’ works, but if your work was for shit, he told you so and why; and then he gave you ideas if it was fixable. Steve was always true to the arts.
I knew Steve for about 25 years, and met him when I was publishing phati’tude Literary Magazine. During the hey day 1990s, I hung out at Tribes and I would occasionally meet Steve to discuss art, politics, or gossip, which he loved to do. I will always remember him for his generosity and encouragement: just because we each had literary magazines he did not see us as competitors, nor did he feel that way about any one else that created similar arts programming. He believed it was important for artists to be supportive of each other because we all share the same goal, which is to bring innovative ideas to our communities.
It hadn’t always been easy. Steve suffered setbacks, disappointments and even betrayal, but that did not stop him and it certainly inspired me. The man is the space is the art is the man.
To all of Steve’s friends and fanatics, remember this: Steve’s legacy is not just about being an artist, it is also about the artist’s responsibility to support their community by pushing the limits of an international arts dialogue in new and different directions, and at the same time support one another in the process. We need each other. This is certainly been lacking in recent years, a point that Steve raised to me when I last spoke to him several months ago. His death was sudden, surprising and painful. His exit was attention-grabbing, emotional and artistic. I do not think he would have it any other way.
To the Cannon family, my condolences.
I will miss knowing Steve is around. In his passing at 84 years old, we have been blessed with his longevity and endurance. While many of us believe he could have lived a little longer, today should be a celebration of a lived life. And now, Steve is in Bird Flight, ready to hang out with Bird. Digging the notes between the notes. Da dee, da dee dee BOP.
Gabrielle David
