Issue link: http://maconmagazine.uberflip.com/i/1302793
Little Richard Lifts Us Up A s news of Little Richard's death began to circulate on the morning of May 9, it was hard not to feel devastated, especially for those of us living in Macon, Richard's oft- shouted-out hometown. We don't always get everything right here, but we've proved that we're fertile soil where musical revolutionaries blossom and flourish, and you don't get much more revolutionary than the self-proclaimed King and Queen of Rock 'n' Roll. Little Richard makes us proud to say where we're from. 2020 isn't playing fair. First, a global pandemic wreaks havoc on our lives, and now you're telling me that the originator, the innovator, the emancipator, the "Architect of Rock 'n' Roll" is gone? We have to live without that vital, vivacious man, that catharsis-made-flesh, that beautiful, brave, boundary-annihilating genius? As Little Richard himself would say: Shut up! Many of us, searching for a way to mourn, turned to his music, cranking up groundbreaking, iconic tunes like "Tutti Frutti," "Long Tall Sally" and "Lucille" as we absorbed the grim reality of a Little Richardless existence. But the best musicians live forever through their art, and anyway, who could mourn for long with that frenzied piano banging out the holiest unholy rhythm, with those unhinged screams promising joy and liberation? "e energy in his music is so profound," said Mercer University art professor Craig Coleman. "When you listen to it, you really can hear the whole history of rock 'n' roll." After all, Little Richard was rock's architect – just watch any interview with him, he'll tell you. He teased his hair, lined his pretty eyes, hiked his foot up on that piano and went wild, setting the stage for the paradigm-shifting, provocative culture of the 1960s and transforming into an icon for outsiders and rebels everywhere. e words "icon" and "rebel" have wildly diverging connotations, depending on the audience. In downtown Macon, a Confederate memorial statue stands at the corner of Cotton Avenue and Second Street in the same spot where 19th century slave auctions took place. Its presence is divisive – some want the oppressive symbol demolished BY TRACI BURNS MORE THAN JUST THE 'ARCHITECT OF ROCK 'N' ROLL,' THE ORIGINATOR WAS NEVER SHY TO CALL MACON HIS HOME JUNE/JULY 2020 | maconmagazine.com 33