Blues Beneath the Beams: A Community's Call to Connection

By Arghawan Bani ’26 

Amid the chaos and conflicts that grip the world today, Ralph Ellison’s words still ring true: "Either live with music or die with noise, and we chose rather desperately to live." In times like these, when discord threatens to overwhelm us, music becomes a crucial sanctuary—a lifeline that sustains us and reminds us of the humanity we seek to protect. And what genre embodies this resilience better than the Blues?

This sentiment resonated deeply when I began Black Aesthetics: Ralph Ellison, a class held in the Chapel of the Holy Innocents. At first, I wondered about the connection between the chapel and the course—especially knowing Professor Nicholas Lewis’s desire to make connections. On the first day, my curiosity turned into astonishment: Ralph Ellison himself had taught at Bard. In this very chapel. The realization was surreal—someone I was going to read and learn about had once walked these same spaces I now exist in.

The chapel itself is breathtaking, with vaulted wooden ceilings supported by exposed beams, colorful light streaming through stained glass windows, and rows of wooden chairs neatly lined on a polished hardwood floor. The atmosphere is serene, reflective, and inviting—a perfect setting for discussions about Ellison’s profound insights. It felt poetic to delve into his work in the same space where he taught American literature in 1958.

Returning to the Blues, who better to define this art form than Ralph Ellison himself? In his essay Richard Wright’s Blues, Ellison writes with piercing eloquence: “The Blues is an impulse to keep the painful details and episodes of
a brutal experience alive in one's aching consciousness, to finger its jagged grain, and to transcend it, not by the consolation of philosophy, but by squeezing from it a near-tragic, near-comic lyricism. As a form, the Blues is an autobiographical chronicle of personal catastrophe expressed lyrically.” In Ellison’s view, the Blues is more than just music; it is an act of resilience and a means of transforming suffering into art and humanity. In this class, held under the vaulted ceilings of the Chapel, I, along with 34 fellow classmates, began to understand how the Blues—much like Ellison’s writings—acts as both a reflection and a source of healing for the complexities of life.

On November 8, the students of course received an email from Professor Nicholas Lewis confirming the Chaplain's enthusiastic approval to host a "Community Blues Music Jam" on November 10. The event promised opportunities for writing, singing, performing, playing, and listening to the Blues, all accompanied by generous hospitality in the form of food and beverages. A call was sent out for volunteers to help with planning, and a meeting was scheduled for that same morning. What followed was a whirlwind of organizing: posters were designed and distributed, roles were assigned, and everyone hoped that their collective efforts would bring people together for a memorable event.

Anyone who has ever organized an event knows the fear of people not showing up. It’s a nagging thought that lingers in the back of your mind no matter how much preparation you undertake.

On the evening of November 10, the Black Aesthetics: Ralph Ellison class hosted a Community Blues Music Jam in the Chapel of the Holy Innocents. In the heart of Bard College, the timeless echoes of Blues music found a home, and the community gathered to celebrate art, culture, and fellowship.

The idea for this event stemmed from a fundamental human need and an earlier shared experience of the Blues. On November 6, the results of the U.S. election were announced. For many of us, myself included, the gravity of those results didn’t fully resonate until the following day. When I entered class on November 7, I noticed a significant shift: instead of our usual small groups at round tables, the chairs were arranged in a large circle. This subtle yet meaningful change created an environment for reflection and shared dialogue. As the class unfolded, I began to process what the election results meant—not just for me as an immigrant but also for my peers, classmates, and everyone whose lives would be directly impacted. Under the thoughtful guidance of Nicholas Lewis and Drew Thompson, the space became one of connection and mutual support. That day, humanity took center stage. Inspired by classmate Freddy Coronel’s initial idea for a gathering, this collective reflection blossomed into the vision for a community event.

This moment of unity was preceded by an equally transformative experience on October 22. When I entered the chapel that day, I noticed Professor Lewis had shifted the focus of the session. The course outline simply read, “Stompin’ the Blues.” As someone prone to overthinking, the ambiguity was unsettling, but I trusted that guidance would emerge. The class soon delved into writing and playing the Blues, immersing ourselves in its raw expression and shared rhythm. This foundational workshop not only deepened our understanding of the Blues but also set the stage for Freddy’s idea to create something meaningful for the wider community. Together, these moments of creativity and reflection gave rise to an event that sought to bring everyone together.

Our class recognized the need for a gathering where people could come together not to debate or divide, but to honor one another's humanity in all its complexity. The Blues, with its roots in expressing both struggle and resilience, felt like the perfect medium for channeling emotions, fostering solidarity, and reminding everyone of the power of shared experiences. This jam was more than just music; it was about connection, a celebration of community, and the unyielding spirit of togetherness.

And the event planner’s fear of an empty room? That evaporated quickly as over 75 people showed up, proving the strength of the community and the power of collective care.

The event was structured around four interactive spaces, each thoughtfully designed to reflect the themes of the Blues and the gathering’s purpose:

Fellowship Corner: Near the entrance, guests were greeted by the inviting aroma of comforting dishes and warm drinks. A rich selection of options awaited, including steaming pots of curried lentil soup and velvety mac and cheese, alongside crispy chicken bites with an array of flavorful dipping sauces. For those seeking a classic indulgence, a trio of pizzas—cheese, pepperoni, and vegetable—completed the welcoming spread, ensuring there was something for every palate. It was a cozy space designed to spark casual conversations and nourish both body and soul.

The Blues Writing Corner: On the north side of the chapel, participants found a cozy spot to sit, reflect, and pour their thoughts onto paper, crafting their own Blues lyrics or poetry. It was a moment of quiet introspection amidst the liveliness. Nearby, The Writing Wall—a large whiteboard—invited participants to pin up their creations for others to read, enjoy, and even photograph as a keepsake. The space was alive with creativity, where individual expressions of emotion came together to form a collective symphony of stories.

One memorable contribution came from Zoe Gibson, who wrote these Blues:

"My bones ache from bending and twisting inside and out.
My bones, oh, how they ache, all that bending and twisting inside and out.
But it's alright, I've got you to hold my hand, to soothe the pain."

The Community Canvases: As one entered the chapel, a collaborative art station invited attendees to contribute to a visual tribute to the Blues. This creative space buzzed with energy as people blended colors and ideas, working together to craft two vibrant pieces of marker art. The resulting masterpieces captured the spirit of collaboration and creativity, a shared expression of emotion and connection.

The Jam & Singing Corner: The heart of the event, this lively space buzzed with energy as instruments and voices came together in a dynamic celebration of the Blues. Rodney Clark on drums, Max Jackson on cello, Freddy Coronel on guitar, and Nicholas Lewis on piano infused the corner with vibrant, soul-stirring sounds. The music didn’t just stay confined to the chapel; it spilled through the half-open door, echoing into the outside world and drawing curious passersby inside.

The sound of all the instruments blending was magnetic- impossible to ignore. It invited not just listening but movement. It compelled people to get up, to sway, to dance. The rhythms and melodies seemed to bypass words, asking everyone present not just to hear, but to feel, and be. It was music alive with purpose, turning the Jam & Singing Corner into a space where people couldn’t help but let themselves go and join in.

The atmosphere was electric, yet deeply grounding. Students Selali Lumor, Wes Bias-Saunders, Rachel Oladepo, Gabrielle Parchment, and Adara Williams warmly welcomed guests, ensuring the event was inclusive and open. The chapel buzzed with activity—from the sound of pens scribbling heartfelt lyrics to the soulful music that filled the air..

This event and the story behind it remind us that community is not defined by a physical location, but by the people who choose to support one another. The gathering of over 75  people on a Sunday evening demonstrated the power of collective effort, resilience, and the desire to create spaces of support and solidarity.

As the evening drew to a close, the room held more than just the echoes of music. It conveyed a sense of hope, reminding us that we can find strength in one another even in challenging times. The Community Blues Music Jam was more than just an event —it was a celebration of what it means to care, to create, and to connect.

Post Date: 12-06-2024