Jazz is a Four-Letter Word

By Jason Toney

On trumpeter and composer Nicholas Payton’s latest album, TRIUNE, Esperanza Spalding sings:

“Jazz is a four-letter word. It’s not either or. It’s this and that and this and that and this and that.”

Payton, a native of New Orleans and a GRAMMY Award winner, has dedicated his career to challenging rigid definitions of jazz, often referring to his work as "Black American Music." Spalding, a four-time GRAMMY winner and MacArthur Fellow, is celebrated for her extraordinary bass playing and innovative approach to music, which blends jazz, classical, and experimental styles.

That refrain from the song of the same name came to mind at the Second Annual Benefit for Sam First, a small nonprofit jazz bar tucked near the Los Angeles International Airport. As guacamole and crispy tortillas were being served, a familiar conversation threatened to surface: what counts as jazz? Fans, performers, and advocates can’t resist trying to define it. Maybe improvisation itself feels like a dare, with every note wriggling free of the boxes we try to put it in.

Before the debate could gain traction, the evening shifted. Speakers and performers stepped up to honor two of LA’s enduring figures: Ruth Price and Billy Childs.

Price, a singer and the driving force behind The Jazz Bakery, has sustained one of the city's most vital jazz institutions for decades, often without a permanent home. Originally a dancer who transitioned to a vocalist, she recorded with legends like Shelly Manne and Red Mitchell. Over the years, Price has also become a respected educator and advocate for live performance.

Childs is a pianist, composer, and arranger whose career spans both jazz and classical music. He has received multiple GRAMMY Awards and a Guggenheim Fellowship. His collaborations include notable artists such as Yo-Yo Ma and Chris Botti, and his compositions have been performed by major orchestras worldwide.

Instead of focusing on their accolades, friend after friend that evening spoke about one thing: generosity. Both Price and Childs have devoted as much energy to mentoring young musicians and collaborating with peers as they have to their own work. They share stages, give credit, and shine light on others. Their remarks that night didn’t attempt to define jazz in musical terms, but in values: the pursuit of excellence, the hunger for expression, and a spirit of benevolence.

What Ruth and Billy embody here in L.A.—that mix of mentorship, excellence, and open-handed generosity—can also be found in Washington, DC. The Blues Alley Youth Orchestra, the Jazz Academy of Music, and, of course, the DC Jazz Festival’s Jazzin’ InSchool programs all carry that same torch, teaching young players that jazz is as much about community as virtuosity.

Dianne Reeves closed the dinner, slipping into town between international tour dates and festival appearances to honor her longtime friend and former Night Flight bandmate. A five-time GRAMMY Award-winning vocalist and NEA Jazz Master, Reeves is one of the preeminent voices in modern jazz. Before bringing the house down with her voice, she told a story: after a performance early in the days of Night Flight, Childs was interviewed by a local radio DJ who was impressed with their set and raved about the “chick singer.” However, he didn’t invite her to join in the conversation. When he finally asked who led the band, Childs didn’t miss a beat: “The chick singer.”

That story, and the whole night itself, pointed me to another four-letter word: gift.

Jazz is a gift, and those who know it best tend to understand that and want to share it far and wide.

The DC Jazz Festival represents this spirit by connecting artists with an audience of over 100,000 people across the city with genre-expanding performances throughout the weekend. DCJF embodies mentorship and generosity at its core. Nationally and internationally recognized performers share the spotlight with local DC ensembles, while students from the DCJF Education program take center stage before thousands of welcoming fans of the genre. Those moments make it clear: the festival recognizes that narrow definitions and tight fists do us no favors. Even if the music feels precious, it isn’t ours to guard.



Jazz is ours to give.

Jason Toney is a digital strategist and storyteller with deep experience in entertainment, media, and culture. Human-centered insight to every engagement—from high-impact analytics to audience-first storytelling, Toney has blogged in some form or another since 2002. He have worn many leadership hats in the entertainment industry, recently providing insights and intelligence on content, audience, product, and subscription trends related to premium streaming.