By Thomas Conner
© Tulsa World At the end of the interview, Carlton Pearson stood up and gave himself away. Throughout the conversation, Pearson gleamed, looking immaculate as ever — trimmed hair, silk paisley tie, a glittering ruby ring and a shirt so crisp you could strike a match on it. He looked every bit the well-to-do, business-like bishop of the multi-racial multitude at Tulsa's charismatic Higher Dimensions Family Church. As we chatted on our way out of the church office, though, I couldn't help but notice his worn, faded Levis and weather-beaten cowboy boots. "Well, I didn't know if you were going to take pictures today or not, so I put on a tie," Pearson said, smiling big and broadly. Pretty and professional on top, earthy and rooted down below — that's Carlton Pearson. It's this personal philosophy of staying rooted that has propelled Pearson into the top rank of his church and into the top slots of the gospel charts. Aside from leading one of this city's largest congregations, Pearson records highly successful gospel records with his church's crack band and choir. The latest, "Live at Azusa 3," is another huge hit. The boundary between Pearson the preacher and Pearson the entertainer is barely traceable, though. The "Live at Azusa" records are simply recordings of Pearson in action at his annual Azusa religious conference in Tulsa. He preaches a little, he sings a little, and he shares the stage with other gospel stars — such as Fred Hammond and Marvin Winans on the current album. "This is just church. It's what we do every Sunday morning," Pearson said. "I wanted to capitalize on it, and share it. When I started playing with recording things, people were writing songs for me and trying to mold me as they would any other gospel singer. But I said, 'Let me just do what I do. Let me tell stories and sing songs.' And it has touched people." Pearson's albums are reaching the audience at which they are aimed. Pearson unabashedly calls them "old folks." The subtitle of "Live at Azusa 3" is "Reminding the Saints of the Hope," and Pearson said this album in particular was tailored for the older members of the flock. "I'm trying to do what that title says: remind them that the hope is still alive," Pearson said. "The world is changing so fast — without their permission. These people, like the Bible, have come out of Egypt, but Egypt has not come out of them." "Live at Azusa 3" features Pearson and the immensely talented Higher Dimensions band and choir, directed by David Smith. While radical gospel stars like Hammond and Kirk Franklin have juiced-up the genre with hip-hop beats and loud sounds, Pearson's album captures a similar feeling of excitement — but by using old, traditional black hymns. No funky new stuff for Pearson, much to the dismay of his two children. "I try to play my stuff for my kids, and they say, `No, Daddy, play something cool!' They want (Franklin's) 'Revolution' or anything Hammond does. I have pictures of young people jumping up and down at my shows, so it's reaching them . . . but these songs are meant for the saints," Pearson said. "These old songs aren't written horizontally; they're written vertically. The new songs are evangelistic, taking a message to the people from God. These old songs are singing directly to God. They're church songs. "These old songs are the ones that really seemed to touch people the most, and they helped tear down those racial divisions that often separate us," Pearson said earlier. "They also remind us of the hope. I felt those old songs gave us a sense of stability and a sense of security and safe-keeping, because that's what kept us through the Jim Crow lines, civil rights riots and the assassinations of Dr. King and President Kennedy in the '60s." Crossing racial lines has always been the driving force behind Pearson's ministry. He's full of stories about people of all colors and creeds who have found inspiration through the songs he performs — the South African man who explained how popular Pearson's videos and music were there ("You sing old hymns that carried the church here," the man told Pearson) and the Muslim woman who attends Higher Dimensions because of her attraction to the message of a heavenly relationship. Pearson's music and ministry began at the same time, when as an eighth-grader in San Diego he was captivated by a performance of the visiting Oral Roberts World Action Singers. The group was recruiting students, and Pearson's mother said, "When you go to college, that's where I want you to go." Lacking the funds to pay for college, Pearson shut himself in his room for a week, emerging only to shower. During that time, he prayed to God to find a way to attend Oral Roberts University. At the end of the week, a family friend called and offered to pay not only the college tuition but a monthly allowance as well. In 1971, he enrolled at ORU. Soon he became a member of the World Action Singers with a full scholarship. By 1975, Pearson was hitting the road as an evangelist under the tutelage of Roberts himself. In 1981, he founded the Higher Dimensions Evangelistic Center at a service of 75 people. The center's first building was a storefront in Jenks — which at the time still had a 6 p.m. curfew for blacks on the lawbooks. Within a year, the congregation neared 1,000 people of every race and color. Today, the church stands in a large building near 86th Street and Memorial Drive, along with an adoption agency, a home for unwed mothers, a preschool and a food pantry for the needy. "I never wanted to be known as the singing evangelist," Pearson said of his beginnings. "I wanted to be an evangelist who also sang." That's how he sounds on "Live at Azusa 3." He introduces songs sung by such gospel luminaries as Beverly Crawford, James Morton and Joshua Nelson. He talks a little bit, giving brief homilies with titles like "I Love Old Folks" and "Remind the Saints of the Hope." These are often elongated introductions to other songs, "I Know the Lord Will Make a Way Somehow," "Near the Cross," and so on. "These old songs — people just don't want to let go of them," Pearson said. "For some reason people just want to hold onto a good ol' piece of fried chicken, even though they're out there every day eating sushi . . . I mean, when I win an award for these albums, people aren't out there clapping for me. They're clapping for their grandmas and grandpas and all those saints that came before them and who were kept going by these songs. And they're still going, so we might as well keep these songs going, too." |
Thomas Conner
These online "clips" reproduce a self-selection of my journalism (music etc) during the last 20+ years. It's a lotta stuff, but it only scratches the surface. I do not currently possess the time or resources to digitize the whole body of work. These posts are simply a bunch of pretty great days at the office. Archives
May 2014
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