Jazz authors gathered for a panel Thursday at the Sheraton New York to discuss jazz and biography. Seattle Times jazz critic Paul de Barros moderated the session, which took place at the biennial gathering of the International Association for Jazz Education. Panelists included Stephanie Stein Crease,biographer of jazz composer and arranger Gil Evans; and Ashley Kahn, whom Mr. de Barros said was pioneering a new biographical genre: that of iconic jazz albums.

Mr. de Barros opened by saying that around 10 to 15 years ago he wrote an essay about what was wrong with jazz biographies, complaining that most were “either extended fan letters and love letters or a series of record reviews, or strictly about a person.” But soon a burst of great biographies began to appear, and he explained that this was the reason for the panel.”I really think we’re living in a golden age of jazz biography,” he said.

Mr. de Barros asked what big questions they addressed in their books and gave an example of a big question: “How does Louis Armstrong, who grew up impoverished and black end up inventing a new music?” Peter Levinson, author of “Tommy Dorsey: Livin’ in a Great Big Way” said one larger theme was a father’s determination to instill drive and confidence in his children, without which Dorsey and his brother Jimmy would likely have not ever left the coal region of eastern Pennsylvania.

Mr. de Barros said he liked how Gary Giddins connected the personal, the social, and musical spheres in his writing. Mr.Giddins, a jazz writer and columnist for The New York Sun, explained that he likes jazz history that links the biographical subject to the larger world: the music, politics, and popular culture of the time. He said, “If you take this away,you’re left with a parochial vision of who influenced whom,”which is only of interest to music scholars.

Mr. Giddins took issue with Mr. de Barros’s praise of Hemingway biographer Carlos Baker as a model to follow. Mr. Giddins thought Mr. Baker’s book was “conspicuously dreadful” and of the “kitchen sink” variety often put out before a second or third biographer comes along to winnow out the dross and get to what’s important.

Mr. de Barros asked if understanding an artist helps to explain his music. He gave the example of tenor saxophonist Stan Getz, whom many had “negative experiences” with yet made gorgeous music. Likewise, he gave the paradox of Bing Crosby, who was the soul of warmth when he left the front door of his house, but at home was much colder.

Mr. Levinson said of Getz: “He turned on me after 17 years. Most people, it took 17 minutes.” Mr. Giddins then described the time he considered doing a biography of Getz and when he first spent time with him. Mr. Giddins told Getz the book could not be written without his being candid about his drugs and drinking. “Why wouldn’t I?” he recalled Getz saying. “It all happened when I was a kid.” “Which brings me to the first rule of biography,” Mr. Giddins said. “Never trust anybody.”

On this topic, Mr. Giddins recalled flying to California and reading James Spada’s biography of Grace Kelly, who had a romance with Crosby.”There was an anecdote that didn’t make sense to me. This anecdote wasn’t sourced.” He called up the author and said he wanted to ask about an anecdote in his book. “Don’t tell me. I know what it is,” Mr. Spada replied.The biographer had gotten the anecdote from a notorious con man who claimed to have proof on tape.

“Here’s the punch line,” Mr. Giddins continued. He was at the Strand a few years later, perusing the show business shelves. There were several books about Kelly, and every one had that story sourced – to Mr. Spada’s book – “and the incident never happened. Now, if you’re writing a biography and you’re doing research and you see the same story in eight books, you don’t even question it. It’s common knowledge at that point.”

An audience member asked if myths could also tell truths. Mr. Giddins described his frustration in trying to confirm whether there was a 30-minute cease-fire to listen to a Crosby broadcast in a battle during the Ardennes campaign in World War II. “That struck me as preposterous.” After much research, he concluded it was a myth, but one that revealed more about the stature of Crosby in people’s minds than a real anecdote might.

Mr. de Barros also said that in his book “Jackson Street After Hours,” about the roots of jazz in Seattle, nearly every musician informed him that the man who owned the major swing dance hall segregated it because there was a law against interracial dancing. But there was never such a law. “The fact that everyone believed there was such a law told me more about the scene than if there actually had been.”