A Sax Divine
(Page 2 of 4)
July/August 1999
Aaron McCarroll Gallegos The Other Side (www.theotherside.org/core.html)
After a short stint in the navy, Coltrane became deeply involved
with the postwar jazz scene, backing some of the era's top
performers, including Dizzy Gillespie, Johnny Hodges, and Miles
Davis. But jazz wasn't the only thing consuming Trane. Like Charlie
Parker, one of his idols, he got hooked on both heroin and alcohol.
While opinions vary as to how severely Coltrane's addictions
affected his music, he did get fired from several gigs, including
his most prominent one, with trumpeter Davis.
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In 1957 Coltrane overcame his addictions and, like many others
who conquer their personal demons, found his way to a greater
spiritual depth. 'I experienced, by the grace of God,' he later
wrote, 'a spiritual awakening which was to lead me to a richer,
fuller, more productive life. At that time, in gratitude, I humbly
asked to be given the means and privilege to make others happy
through music.' Coltrane produced an amazing amount of work in the
10 years he had left to live. By the time he died of liver cancer
in 1967 at age 40, he had taken the saxophone, and jazz itself, to
new places, raising the art of improvisation to a level that few if
any have equaled.
Coltrane's hallowed status at St. John's is largely the work of
the church's founder and bishop, Franzo Wayne King. King founded
the church in 1971 as the One Mind Temple Evolutionary Transitional
Body of Christ. In 1982 the church joined the African Orthodox
Church, a small denomination started by African Americans who had
been drawn to aspects of Greek, Russian, and Coptic Orthodox
liturgy. Appointed the church's bishop, King dropped its old name
and chose Coltrane as its patron saint. As a young man, King--not
unlike Coltrane--had fled the religion of his Pentecostal parents
for the jazz clubs. Seeing Coltrane play in 1965 was the 'sound
baptism' that started King on a 'very serious and earnest journey
to seek out God.' At St. John's, he hoped to lead others to the
transformative spiritual experience he had encountered in
Coltrane's music.
St. John's attracts a diverse group of seekers: disaffected
Gen-Xers, affluent African American businesspeople, dreadlocked
hippies, aging beats. Even those who are familiar with Coltrane's
music may not be prepared for the positive vibrations of 'St. John,
the sound Baptist,' as the church calls him. On the Sunday I
attended, the tiny chapel was nearly full when the service began,
but within minutes people started slipping out. The din of
saxophones, drums, congas, bass, and percussion quickly overwhelmed
the uninitiated. A trumpet inches from the back of my head
screeched and honked the artist's avant-garde music throughout the
service. But the worship style, flowing out of the Pentecostal and
black church traditions, is as fervent and powerful as you'll find
anywhere.