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Often, many place a wall between the secular and the religious, as though neither influences the other. In reality, both can find value in one another’s efforts to find or provide meaning to the world. James Brandon Lewis, the son of a science teacher and a pastor, is uniquely positioned to understand the complementary nature of both realms. Approached in conjunction, his Red Lily Quintet’s two albums to date – Jesup Wagon (TAO Forms, 2021) and For Mahalia, with Love (TAO Forms, 2023) – seemingly lay testament to the shared nature of these concepts. 

With Jesup Wagon, Lewis tributed one of the most prominent Black scientists of the early twentieth century, George Washington Carver. In addition to countless inventions to his credit, Carver was an environmentalist leader who found new ways to improve depleted soil. In 1941, Time magazine even dubbed him “a Black Leonardo” for his inventions and ingenuity. Carver spread much of his knowledge to communities by mobile classroom on the album’s self-titular wagon. Lewis’ vehicle for communication evokes its namesake on its title track by mimicking a wooden wheel bumping along a dirt path, while the balladic “Arachis” imputes a significance to the peanut for which Carver was best known. 

In some ways, it is more difficult for a musician to credibly profile Mahalia Jackson. Too many have the beauty and grandeur of their voice permanently written into their musical subconscious. How does one approach, with honor, one of the finest musicians of all time without minimizing the original work? For Lewis, the answer lies in avoiding mere imitation and instead formatting the work as a conversation between himself, his grandmother, and the Queen of Gospel, with their shared love of music and connections to the church as common ground. 

Consider “Sparrow.” Initially built from the hymn, “His Eye is on the Sparrow”, the album’s opener is a contemplative yet simple melody, reflective of the piece’s lyrics noting that no matter how bad things may seem, God is still watching over his children. Jackson’s version came a half-century after its original composition but has met with such renown that it is perhaps her best-known song. Her version even received the Grammy Hall of Fame Award in 2010. Lewis’ fairly sparse opening moments undoubtedly pay homage to the famous rendition, but he’s not content to copy it. Instead, he bookends the piece by playing duo with cornetist Kirk Knuffke on a version of his own tranquil “Even the Sparrow.” 

Or “Swing Low”, a song Lewis may have heard his grandmother sing at a service. The composition is an anthem of the Civil Rights Movement where Jackson played a central role, even performing often at Dr. Martin Luther King’s rallies. As for Lewis, he approaches it with a soulfully upbeat tempo that gradually unwinds into different threads. When joined by skittering drums and bass and cornetist Kirk Knuffke’s pointillistic lines, it morphs into an Ayler-esque melody. It concludes with a series of saxophone scoops and a tight cymbal rhythm that sounds almost sampled. One cannot help but sense that perhaps the bandleader is conveying to his grandmother and Ms. Jackson that while things have changed, the journey for a better society remains. 

For Mahalia, With Love is an astonishing recording that does more than merely salute one of the greatest artists of all time. The album extracts the beauty of Jackson’s music in a way that portrays its enduring meaning, even as the context of the ages may change what makes it so powerful. The work often stylistically, even if subtly, jumps through time, reflecting her persisting legacy. It also suggests that perhaps someday we will view the forty-year-old Lewis in a similar light.

PostGenre: What inspired you to create an album dedicated to Mahalia Jackson? 

James Brandon Lewis: Well, like many people, I grew up in the church. That probably cannot be understated. 

Peeling back the layers of my story, I was exposed to Mahalia through my grandmother. The album is largely inspired by my grandmother. I spent a lot of time with my grandparents when I was a kid, and Mahalia Jackson was someone my grandmother used to always talk about. And when I’ve listened to Mahalia, I have always thought she was such an amazing vocalist. She had an incredible voice. 

PG: So, you approach her music more through your personal connections than with a historical lens?

JBL: History is a large part of my interest as well. Mahalia deeply changed the landscape of how we think about gospel music. I mean, she even inspired the [Recording Academy] to make a whole Grammy category for gospel music. She invented the entire category of gospel music. I don’t think she ever really got accolades for that. 

As you interact with people and learn the music’s history, you start peeling back the layers of who came before. I love Albert Ayler, but it is very important that people also know the history that predates Ayler. I have no interest in revisionist history or trying to fit the past into a set narrative. I’m not going to pretend Ayler came from nowhere. 

The reality is that there is a great lineage from Mahalia Jackson and her relationship with the father of gospel, Thomas Dorsey. A long line of incredible artists came from that line. Albert Ayler. Gene Ammons, the preacher. Hank Jones. In the 90s, you had Angélla Christie. People don’t talk about Angélla as much because she is not necessarily quote-unquote, a “jazz saxophonist” and instead plays gospel music on her sax. And then you had Allen & Allen, a gospel group that inspired me and a friend of mine when we were kids. And a ton of duos of pianists and vocalists. And then later there were the Kirk Whalums of the world who play gospel music. I always wanted to do an album for Mahalia Jackson partly to explore that lineage, as well. 

PG: One interesting thing about the album is that it honors Mahalia and her music but you still make the compositions your own. You capture the essence of her recorded versions while doing something wholly original with them.

JBL: Right.

PG: When you were creating the album, did you sit down with Mahalia’s vocal recordings to try to determine the essential parts to put into the new versions of the songs?

JBL: Without a doubt. I was fully immersed in Mahalia’s world as best as I could. I also did a composer residency at MacDowell in New Hampshire for about five weeks. Actually, I just remembered the residency the other day and meant to thank them in the liner notes. At MacDowell, I spent part of the time studying, listening to interviews, and watching performances by Mahalia Jackson, along with some work on [Molecular Systematic Music]. 

During that residency, one thing I found very fascinating about Mahalia was her rhythmic sense. She’s not clapping on two and four. She’s also not on one and three. Instead, she very much had her own relationship with rhythm. 

I listened to how she performed tunes and did my best to emulate her phrasing when I played the melody. And, sometimes, the melody isn’t even in the sax part. Actually, I was listening to this album’s version of “Elijah Rock” and started to get nervous because I couldn’t find where I had put the melody. But when I went back and listened to it again, I realized I gave the bass and cello the melody.

PG: It would be a mistake to downplay your own compositional ideas to the album though; it is not just some rearranged versions of songs associated with Mahalia.

JBL: Yes. I always try to add to the conversation musically. Compositionally, when I’m arranging someone else’s music, I’ll add an original idea. For instance, everything before the melody on “Precious Lord”, obviously isn’t “Precious Lord” as Mahalia recorded it. I wanted to start the song with a big regal sounding announcement.

PG: Most of the pieces on the album are seemingly deeply tied to the lyrics and the vocal part. “Precious Lord” is a great example. Was it difficult capturing Mahalia’s essence without any vocalists or lyrics?

JBL: “Precious Lord” is an interesting piece of music. Growing up, I heard that song so many times. When trying to interpret a vocalist – especially on a song with lyrics- it’s my job to re-imagine the melodies as best I can and not be too complicated. 

So by the time “Precious Lord” comes about on this album, if you know the words, you can hear them even without a vocalist. I’ve gone over those lyrics as best I can, and then try to articulate what I hear and try to match some of Mahalia’s phrasing. Matching her phrasing is more complicated than people realize because she has a lot of scoops where it’s maybe two or three notes before she gets to the actual note. She improvises her lyrics, but even when she does improvise, her lyrics are always scripturally sound. She’s not just saying whatever she wants. And that’s another key component of listening to her.

PG: While Mahalia did co-write “Lord, Don’t Move the Mountain” with Doris Akers, she’s generally not known for her own compositions. As she mostly approached others’ works, it seems listening to her may be more important than with some other artists, as you cannot go look at scores she used. 

JBL: Right, a lot of what she did was with other people’s music. She contributed arrangements but did not really compose original pieces. And, so, you are mostly looking at other peoples’ songs she made popular. 

Though, even then, there is one song on the album I could not find her having recorded, but I just liked it- “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” I couldn’t find any performance of her doing that. But it still felt like it was okay to put on this album as it had the same vibe as the rest of the album. 

PG: Of course, “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” was also a Civil Rights anthem. Mahalia also was deeply involved in the Civil Rights Movement. She even inspired the “I Have a Dream” speech.  Was her role in the Movement a consideration when you were putting the album together?

JBL: Yeah, without a doubt. And if I’m not mistaken, I think “Precious Lord” was one of Martin Luther King’s favorite songs. She even has an album of his favorite songs [Sings the Best-Loved Hymns of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (Columbia, 1956)].

In learning her story of coming up from New Orleans, going to Chicago, and the rest, it is clear how she opened up barriers and doors. That’s why I say her voice couldn’t be ignored. Like or dislike her music, it didn’t matter. She forced acknowledgment. Playing gospel music wasn’t a thing back then. She also spent the majority of her career saying, “No.” She got so many offers she turned down. 

PG: She was very selective in the work she would take. 

JBL: If you think about people like Bessie Smith, who did quote-unquote “secular music”, Mahalia could have done what they did. But she didn’t. Instead, she made what she heard popular. She forced acknowledgment in the sense of “This is what I’m doing, I hear you, but this is what I’m doing.”

To listen to my grandmother talk specifically about Mahalia, there’s such a reverence there. It was about God and nothing else. She gave hope in a climate that wasn’t exactly rosy. I think her voice was the soundtrack of an era. I can’t help but think about the Civil Rights Movement when I listen to her music and hear about her story. 

When we think about individuals who have shaped music, she should be a part of that conversation. There are certain people we think about who had a seismic effect on music. Louis Armstrong, who also had a great relationship with Mahalia. Coleman Hawkins. John Coltrane. People should consider Mahalia among them. If she didn’t come to the table, would gospel music even be a thing? And she didn’t do it for personal glory. She did it out of reverence for God.

One of my considerations was also thinking about Mahalia as a strong woman. She faced a lot of troubles in her life. And I’ve been lucky to be around other strong, amazing, powerful women. Especially both of my grandmothers and my mom. Why not do a tribute for a woman? There are plenty of tributes to all different kinds of people. After I did one for George Washington Carver, I wanted to do one for Mahalia Jackson.

PG: What inspires you to make tribute albums more generally? Some artists do not look back into the past much, if at all. 

JBL: Really, all this was inspired by a visual artist, Jack Whitten, who has a series of paintings and sculptures and stuff called the Black Monolith series, where he does visual art pieces dedicated to a historical Black figure. And there are other people in the past that have done that. You think about Miles Davis with Jack Johnson and so on. I wanted to have an ensemble that also did something like that in terms of paying tribute.

PG: So, do you see the Red Lily Quintet as primarily a group that looks back at historical figures? 

JBL: Well, first, the name Red Lily comes from one of my favorite stories and the idea of the lotus and what it must go through to bloom on the surface. I think about my life in that context. Being an artist and living an artist’s life is not an easy road. It’s a road I’ve accepted, I’m proud of, and I’m happy about. But it has not been an easy road. My initial impulse for Red Lily was the idea of having an ensemble that represents humanity and plays a certain music that sounds grounded in a folk nature, an organic nature. I think about the quintet as having one foot in the past, honoring someone in the past, and another foot in the present, where the music doesn’t sound like it’s from way back in the day but has a certain vibe.

I also like the orchestration of this group. Basically strings, horns, and drums. That’s gonna create a specific kind of sound, orchestration-wise. I love the idea of cello and bass together. And sometimes the gimbri or mbira show up as well, with [William] Parker on the gimbiri and Chad [Taylor] on the mbira. Mbira didn’t show up on this album this time, but that’s OK. I just didn’t hear it fitting this particular album. 

But, yes, I think the idea with this group is that instead of duplicating earlier works, we acknowledge the past, by not making the same album twice. I enjoy studying people like Mahalia Jackson. Those studies provide an acknowledgment that we’re all in this together. We all struggle with things. I’m far from perfect. There’s a line that says, “All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of the Lord.” I definitely feel those sentiments. But I try to be honest with the music and honest with myself, and that’s about it.

PG: And in terms of honesty, there is the underlying question of music’s purpose. Since you mentioned William Parker, and this is such a gospel-influenced recording, do you see a connection between this music and Parker’s thoughts on universal tonality?

JBL: Oh yeah. At this point, I’ve been fortunate to play with Mr. Parker for ten years in various [settings], both small groups and large ensembles. And I’ve been fortunate to have him be part of my project. I thank him for that. He always brings this difficult-to-describe aspect to the music. Sometimes you hear someone play, and they have a thing that sounds otherworldly every time, with their amount of intention. When I listen to William Parker, Wadada [Leo Smith], Charlie Haden, or any of these people we call great, they’re so locked into the music that they take you wherever they’re going. They take you to a place. And every time I play with them, I’m sorry, but I do go to the tone world Mr. Parker describes. I go to a different place. I don’t know what he’s doing. He’s got the same twelve notes everyone else does. But he makes me go to this other place. 

PG: Where do you go?

JBL: I can’t explain it. I think it’s somewhere outside of objectivity at that point. I don’t think that place is quantifiable. I think it’s the muse. Or it’s intuition. Or maybe it’s the Holy Ghost that Albert Ayler talked about. That place is somewhere beyond our finite understanding. There are things that we’ll never understand in this life. That’s okay. That’s perfectly fine. We have to accept that. I’ve learned to accept that every time I play with certain individuals, like William Parker, we’re gonna go to a different place. That’s a blessing. There’s only one William Parker, for sure. And every time he says he’s going through the tone world, I believe him. 

PG: Do you feel that aspect of music is part of what pulls people into Mahalia Jackson’s recordings as well? Does hearing her recordings have that same transportive effect?

JBL: Without a doubt. I’ve watched so many videos of her and have felt it. Even after all this time, she can still affect people in that way. It’s crazy.

The other day I listened to A Love Supreme (Impulse!, 1965) for the first time in a while. Sometimes I take breaks from Coltrane. As a saxophone player, to keep your sanity, sometimes you have to take a break from him. Anyway, there’s a reason why people navigate to A Love Supreme. It’s the same thing with Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue (Columbia, 1959) even though it’s not a particularly spiritual album, it still has a particular vibe. Something is happening with those recordings and others that we simply can’t explain. We try to. But there’s something bigger at work. There’s always something bigger.

‘For Mahalia, with Love’ will be released on September 8, 2023 on TAO Forms. It can be purchased directly from from the label. More information on Lewis can be found on his website.

Photo credit: Album artwork by William Mazza Studio