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As for the artists, none are earning in the pop-star category, but many are doing quite well. Marsalis, whose band commands fees ranging from $2,000 to $40,000 a night, is already worth several million dollars. "There is a general misconception that you can't make money playing jazz," says his manager, Ed Arrendell. "But Wynton and other top players can do tremendously well. A popular jazz artist can expect to gross well over a million a year." Of course, they must also pay substantial band-related expenses; Marsalis claims such charges drive his net income far under $500,000. The take of the sidemen is much lower -- typically ranging from $40,000 to $60,000 a year -- but that still puts them in the top 20% of U.S. income earners in a profession that traditionally reduced its practitioners to a hardscrabble existence.
Which is exactly what irks a number of older musicians, who feel that the % youngsters are getting it all on a silver platter without the hard knocks and dues paying that their predecessors went through. "They're getting a place in jazz history that they have not deserved or earned," says bassist Ron Carter, 53. "I mean, at 19, 20, how much can you really know?" Many veterans complain that record companies are passing them over in favor of the young guns.
In fact, some observers predict hard times ahead for some of today's highly touted youngsters. "A lot of them are going to fall by the wayside," says Lorraine Gordon, owner of New York's Village Vanguard. Arrendell agrees: "The record companies are on board only as long as they're making money. I think there always will be a demand for jazz. But the artists they sign and keep are the ones who sell the most records. Some guys are going to see their contracts not renewed."
But then jazz has always been a high-risk profession: King Oliver and Charlie Parker both died broke. What seems certain now is that this great American cultural tradition is far healthier than it has been in decades. In the hands of people like Wynton Marsalis and hundreds of other talented musicians, young and old alike, its future seems assured.
Just what that future will sound like is hard to say. "Maybe people will develop new voices again," muses guitarist Howard Alden. "But with the knowledge of the traditional background, it will have more depth." Saxophonist David Sanborn, 45, a top-selling fusion artist, thinks that many of the current acoustic players may start experimenting with more high-tech sounds. RCA's Backer foresees an eclectic middle ground. Says he: "The significant artists of Wynton's tradition will continue to be important in the '90s, but they will coexist alongside more probing, experimental artists."
Whatever the dominant trends turn out to be, Wynton will not be following them; he will be pursuing his own ambitious agenda. "I have every intention of coming up with something that's going to be significant," he says. "As my understanding of form becomes more sophisticated, I'll be able to illuminate more clearly how our country should be represented in music." His ultimate aim? "To find a place in my heart for a real, true expression. Something that is obvious to anybody who listens to it; you know, something moving -- and touching." It is a goal that his musical forebears -- from Bach to Bird -- would surely understand.