Chick Corea's life and music: If Scientology 'informed' his art, why not offer a few examples?

When it comes to modern forms of jazz, I was never a fan of the late Chick Corea’s work in the fusion megaband Return to Forever. I was a Weather Report guy.

However, I was totally into Corea’s classic duets with Gary Burton on vibes (see the epic 1979 live version of “Crystal Silence” at the top of this post) and his lovely “Children’s Songs” collection, for solo piano.

I can also remember debates long ago among my friends — secular and religious — about the impact that Corea’s embrace of the Church of Scientology would have on his life and music. After all, he was an instrumental musician. Were the teachings of L. Ron Hubbard supposed to have soaked into his unique chord voicings and the sparkling rhythms of his compositions?

This leads me to the solid New York Times obituary for Corea, who died recently after a short battle with a rare form of cancer. The double-decker headline on this feature covered a lot of ground:

Chick Corea, Jazz Keyboardist and Innovator, Dies at 79
When jazz and rock fused in the 1970s, he was at the forefront of the movement. But he never abandoned his love of the acoustic piano.

I’ve been thinking about this piece for a week now, wondering if it was worthy of a short post. I finally decided that it was. After all, the obit’s brief treatment of the religion angle demonstrated a classic puzzle that GetReligion has discussed many times in the past, linked to coverage of athletes, actors, writers, etc. Here is that section of the Times piece:

In the early 1970s, Mr. Corea converted to Scientology, and the religion’s teachings informed much of his music from then on, including his work with Return to Forever.
Armando Anthony Corea was born on June 12, 1941, in Chelsea, Mass., near Boston. His father, also named Armando Corea, was a trumpeter and bandleader in Boston, and his mother, Anna (Zaccone) Corea, was a homemaker. He began studying piano when he was 4.

And that was that.

Anyone who has followed the history of new religious movements in the United States and elsewhere knows that, since the 1970s, the word "cult" is one four-letter word newspapers have often been loath to apply to controversial groups.

That wasn't the case before and after the 1978 Jonestown massacre, when newspapers saw cults under almost every rock.

But now, there's a great reticence at using this particular four-letter word in many news organizations. What, however, can a newspaper do when a group really and truly has the markings of a, well, cult, at the level of sociology and human behavior? Do you use the word or bury it?

For an answer, consider this front-page story from The New York Times, which reports on what can easily be considered a psycho-spiritual group, called NXIVM (pronounced neks-ee-um). In some cases, this organization literally leaves its mark on adherents, according to the story, headlined "Inside a Secretive Group Where Women Are Branded."

Read this longish excerpt to understand the scene being set:

ALBANY -- Last March, five women gathered in a home near here to enter a secret sisterhood they were told was created to empower women.

To gain admission, they were required to give their recruiter -- or “master,” as she was called -- naked photographs or other compromising material and were warned that such “collateral” might be publicly released if the group’s existence were disclosed.

The women, in their 30s and 40s, belonged to a self-help organization called Nxivm, which is based in Albany and has chapters across the country, Canada and Mexico.

Sarah Edmondson, one of the participants, said she had been told she would get a small tattoo as part of the initiation. But she was not prepared for what came next.

Each woman was told to undress and lie on a massage table, while three others restrained her legs and shoulders. According to one of them, their “master,” a top Nxivm official named Lauren Salzman, instructed them to say: “Master, please brand me, it would be an honor.”