Jazz Profiles

Harry Allen: A Throwback

2012-01-30T07:00:00.000-08:00

"Stan Getz was onceasked his idea of the perfect tenor saxophone soloist. His answer was, 'Mytechnique, Al Cohn's ideas, and Zoot's time.”

- Gene Lees

Harry Allen maywell be the fulfillment of Getz’s recipe for making the perfect tenor saxophonesoloist. His style of playing certainly recaptures the essence of the ultracool sound and the easy, lyrical phrasing of Stan, Al and Zoot.

For as RichardMorton and Brian Cook state in their Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD 6^thEd.:

“Allen has beenacclaimed by an audience waiting for the Four Brothers to come back, if not thebig bands. His full-blooded tenor sound offers countless tugs of the forelockto Zoot, Lester, Hawkins and whichever other standard-issue swing tenor one canthink of; and it's hardly surprising that these enjoyable records have beengiven the kind of approbation that was heaped on the early Scott Hamiltonalbums. Allen plays nothing but standards, delivers them with a confidence andluxuriance that belie his then twenty-something age, and generally acts as ifColtrane and Coleman had never appeared at all.”

The editors go onthe describe Allen’s “steamrollering sense of swing and his sewing of phrasesand licks together with the kind of assurance once associated with Zoot Sims.”

Harry Allen canplay and he comes to play.

He’s a throwbackto a time when tenor saxophonists “plugged in” a rhythm section, planted theirfeet and “stretched out” into solos that were marked by fleet intensity, a warm,breathy sound and boppish licks.

Harry’s approachto the tenor saxophone finds the melodious aspects of the instrument and bringsthem to the forefront: no upper register squeaking; no running of seemingly mindlesschromatic scales up and down the horn; no lengthy extrapolations that cause thelistener to “head for the door” or to “turn that damn noise off.”

Harry’s musicmakes you stop and listen; it makes you feel good; it makes you smile. Here isthe wonder and beauty of music the way The Muses, who created it, meant it tobe played.

As is the casewith many, younger musicians these days, Harry has his own website on which youcan locate lots of information about his background, schedule of performancesand a discography.

And here’s a linkto a feature about Harry that Stephen Fratallone posted to his JazzConnection Magazine inSeptember 2005 entitled Just Wild AboutHarry: Harry Allen brings His SwingingMainstream Tenor Back to Jazz’s Forefront that’s just loader with goodstuff about Harry.

Given his affinityfor the style of playing made famous by the late tenor saxophonists Zoot Simsand Al Cohn, fittingly, these days, Harry can often be found in the company ofguitar Joe Cohn, Al’s son. The two have formed a quartet that frequentlyrecords and appears at Jazz festivals and clubs both at home and abroad.

One of ourfavorite recordings by Harry and Joe in accompaniment is Eu Não Quero Dançar –I Won’t Dance [RCA Victor 74321 58126-2] about which Richard Cook and BrianMorton commented:

“For a change ofpace, Allen did a sort of bossa nova album in I Won't Dance- sort of,because he swings it a lot harder than Getz chose to. Instead of the melodiesbillowing off balmy breezes, there's the odd tropical storm along the way, andit's an agreeable variation on what might have been expected.”

I have selected No More Blues [Chega de Saudade] fromthis CD as the audio track to the following video tribute to Harry. Checkoutthe simultaneous soloing by Harry and Joe that begins at 2:55 minutes. Beautifully done and not easy todo without tripping over one another’s solos.

Clare Fischer 1928-2012: A Tribute

2012-01-28T19:02:00.000-08:00

A performance by Clare's Big Band of his original composition Miles Behind. The solos are by Warne Marsh on tenor saxophone and Conte Candoli on trumpet. Larry Bunker is on drums.

Milton Hinton and Jazz History: Parallel Courses

2012-01-27T07:00:00.000-08:00

Born in Vicksburg, Mississippi in 1910 and relocated to Chicago by his family at the close of World War Iin 1918, it seems that bassist Milt Hinton had been around Jazz since itsbeginnings.

But like OsieJohnson, his drumming counterpart on numerous recordings sessions over theyears, I found it difficult to locate much information about Milt despite thefact that the Lord Discography lists him on 1,205 recording sessions!

So when my copy ofDownBeat: The Great Jazz Interviews a 75^th Anniversary Anthology arrivedfrom Santa Claus this year, I was thrilled to discover that it contained LarryBirnbaum’s detailed essay about Milt entitled Milt Hinton: The Judge Holds Court, January 25, 1979.

Here are someexcerpts that primarily focus on Milt’s nearly 16 year association with the CabCalloway Orchestra.

I think you’llfind it to be a wonderful reminiscence of what the world of Jazz and the

United States

were like for a working musician fromapproximately 1935-1950.

© - Larry Birnbaum/ Down Beat, copyright protected; allrights reserved.

"Bass meansbottom. It means foundation, and bass players realize that their first job j isto support the musicians and the ensemble. Bass players know more aboutsharing ffld appreciating one another than any other musicians. In all my yearsI have never heard a bass player put another bass player down; they have greatlove for each other and they learn from one another and they share experiencesand even jobs. It's why the art of bass playing has made more progress in thelast 40 years than the art of any other instrument."

Milt Hinton shouldknow. At 68 [Milt died on December 19, 2000 at the age of 90], the dean of Americanbassists stands at the summit of a half-century career that has taken him fromthe speakeasies of Chicago to the pinnacle of the big-band era with CabCalloway to the jam sessions at Minton's in the early days of bop. …

"But to getback, in '35 Cab went to California to do a movie with Al Jolson called The Singing Kid. His bass player, AlMorgan, was a fantastic visual player. He was really my idol; I used to watchhim just to see how a great bass player acted, and that's what I figured Iwould be like when I grew up—of course I'm nothing like that at all. When theymade this movie, the cameras would be grinding away and every time Cab lookedaround, instead of the camera being on him it would be on Al Morgan, because hewas a tall, black, handsome guy and he smiled and twirled his bass as heplayed. This got under Cab's skin because it was a little too competitive forhim. But nothing happened about it until one of the producers said to Al Morgan,'Look, you're so very photogenic that if you were going to be around here,every time we made a picture with a band scene in it you would get the job.' Sothis guy quit Cab in California and joined Les Kite's band with Lionel Hampton and allthose guys who were established in Hollywood, and he stayed there.

"Cab startedback east without a bass player, and my friend Johnson told Cab that if he wasgoing through Chicago he should stop at the Three Deuces and dig Milt Hinton. By thistime Simpson's band had broke up and the owner had opened a Three Deuces at Stateand Lake. Zutty Singleton was the bandleader andArt Tatum was the relief piano player there. When Art played, it was myresponsibility to stand by and come in for his finale. He played solo piano,but for his last tune, which would be something up-tempo, I was supposed tojoin him and take it out and then come on with Zutty's band. Of course, ArtTatum was so fabulous that I don't think I ever caught up to him; his changeswere too fast for me and he left me standing at the post. But it was such a joyto see him, and he was a very nice person. He could see slightly if you put avery bright light behind his eye, so during intermissions we played pinochletogether.

"Zutty hadthe band, mostly New Orleans guys. It was Zutty playing drums, Lee Collins, a greattrumpet player whose wife recently put out a book about him; there was a kidfrom New Jersey, Cozy Cole's brother, who played piano, and Everett Barksdale wasthe guitar player. We worked for months at the Three Deuces and my acceptanceas a musician was established, because Chicago was a New Orleans town—all thejazz was New Orleans jazz—and Zutty Singleton was the drummer. There was BabyDodds and Tubby Hall, but Zutty was really the guy. He had been with the LouisArmstrong Hot Five, with Earl Hines and Lil and Preston Jackson, who is nowliving in New Orleans. Zutty finally decided to take me into his rhythm section. Now Iwas with the king and now I was established as a top bass player in Chicago.

"And now Cabcomes down and he listens to me play. He never said a word tc me, he just satthere—I saw him in the room—and a guy said, 'Cab is in.' He came in with a bigcoonskin coat and a derby and, man, he was sharp, people were like applauding.He sat at a table and listened to us play, and on the intermission he invitedZutty over to the table to have a drink with him—not me, but Zutty. He said,'Hey, I'd like that bass player, I heard he's pretty good.' Zutty was mostbeautiful and kind to me and he was only too happy to have me make some progress,and he said, 'You can have him,' in that long drawl, New Orleans accent he had. So Cab said, 'Well, thanksman, and if you ever get to New York and there's anything I can ever do foryou, you just let me know,' and they shook hands. Then Zutty came upstairs— I'mplaying pinochle with Art Tatum—and said, 'Well, kid, you're gone.' 'Where am Igoing, Zutty?' 'Cab just asked me for you and I told him he could have you.' Isaid, 'Don't I have to give you some kind of a two-week notice or something?'and Zutty said, 'If you don't get your black ass out of here this evening, I'llshoot you.'

"Cab finallycomes up and sings a song with us, he hi-de-ho's and breaks up the house—and ashe's leaving he says to me, 'Kid, the train leaves from LaSalle Street Stationat 9 o'clock in the morning. Be on it.' That's all he said to me, no discussionof salary or anything. I dashed to the phone, called my mom, and told her topack that other suit I had and my extra shirt. I got my stuff—of course, therewas no time to sleep—and I met the band at the station. It was quite anexperience, because I had never been on a train except coming from Mississippi to Chicago, and you know I didn't come on a Pullman or any first-class train—we were rightnext to the engine. I'd never seen a Pullman in my life, and here all of these big-timemusicians were on this train, on their own Pullman.

"There werethese fabulous musicians: Doc Cheatham, the trumpet player; Mouse Randolph,another trumpet player; Foots Thomas, the straw boss, the assistant leader ofthe band, a saxophone player; Andy Brown, a saxophone player; and the drummer,Leroy Maxey. These guys had been working in the Cotton Club in New York and they were really professional: LammarWright was another great trumpet player in the band; Claude Jones, a greatfriend of Tommy Dorsey's, was the trombone player; and there was my old friendKeg Johnson who had recommended me.

"I must havelooked pretty bad. I had the seedy suit on, a little green gabardine jacketwith vents in the sleeves—we called them bi-swings in those days. Keg wasintroducing me around, and the great Ben Webster was in the band. He and Cabhad been out drinking that night and they missed the train at LaSalle Street, but you could catch the train at the 63rd Street station. They were out on the South Sideballing away with some chicks and they didn't have time to come downtown. Sothey picked up the train at 63rd Street and got on just terribly drunk. I wassitting there and Keg was trying to introduce me to the guys, and Ben Websterwalks in terribly stoned and he looked at me—I must have weighed 115 poundssoaking wet— and said, 'What is this?' and Cab said, 'This is the new bassplayer,' and Ben said, 'The new what!?' I remember thinking I would never likeBen, and he turned out to be one of my dearest friends.

"I hadn'tasked anybody about the price, but I was making $35 a week with Zutty at theThree Deuces and that was one of the best jobs in town. Fletcher Henderson wasat the Grand Terrace at that time with Roy Eldridge, Coleman Hawkins and Chu Berry and they were making 35 bucks a week. Ididn't know how to approach anybody about money with Cab, so finally I told Kegthat Cab hadn't said anything to me about money. Keg [Johnson, a trombonist]said, 'Oh, everybody here makes $100 a week.' Well, I almost fainted—$100 I hadnever heard of; it was a fantastic amount of money. This is before SocialSecurity—they only took out $1 for union dues and you got $99, and $99 in thosedays was like $9,000 today. Honestly, you could get a good room for $7 a week;you could get a fantastic meal for 50 cents and cigarettes for 10 to 15 cents apack; bread was 5 cents a loaf; so you can imagine what the thing was like.

"Cab told meafter we started making one-night stands that he was only hiring me until hegot to New Yorkand got a good bass player. I was quite happy even to do that for 100 bucks aweek. We made one-nighters for three months before we hit New York, all through Iowa—Des Moines, Sioux City, everyplace, and I got a chance to reallyget set and all the guys liked me.

"Well, AlMorgan was not a reading man. He had been in the band so long he had memorizedthe book, so there was no bass book. And here I was quite academic—I'd studiedviolin and I'd studied bass legitimately with a bass player from the ChicagoCivic Opera and I never had a problem with reading—I was playing Mendelssohn'sConcerto in E-minor so there was no problem. I said, 'Where's the music?' andthere was no music, so Benny Payne, the piano player, said, 'You just cock yourear and listen, and I'll call off the changes to you.'

"Benny wasmost kind and we've had many laughs about this later; I'm about S'7" andAl Morgan was a tall man, he must have been 6'3". There was no time to getnew uniforms so I had to wear his clothes, and when I put on his coat I wasjust drowning in it. His arms were much longer than mine so that you couldn'tsee my hands because they didn't come out through the sleeves. The guys said Ilooked like Ichabod Crane or somebody—I'm playing bass through the coat-sleevesand they were laughing.

"I had neverreally played with a big band of that caliber, and when they hit it that firstnight it almost frightened me to death. The black guys in those days used towear their hair in a pompadour—it was long in front and we would plaster itdown with grease and comb it back and it would stay down. Of course, when itgot hot that grease melted and our hair would stand straight up. I had this bigcoat on and I got to playing and the grease ran all out of my hair and my hairwas standing up all over my head and Benny Payne is calling out these chords tome—'B-flat! C! F!' The guys in the band told me later that they were justrolling with laughter, they could hardly contain themselves, because I wasreally playing good but I looked so ungodly funny.

"Finally Cabsaw that the guys liked me and we were having so much fun that he said, 'We'llgive him a blood test.' There was a special tune that Al Morgan did, featuringa bass solo, called 'The Reefer Man.' Cab said, 'OK—"The ReeferMan,'" and my eyes got big as saucers because I didn't know anything aboutthis new music. I said, 'How does it go?' Benny Payne said, 'You start it,' andI said, 'What!?' He said, 'We'll give you the tempo but it just starts with thebass—just get into the key of F.'

I tell you, Istarted playing F, I chromaticized F, I squared F, I cubed F, I played F everyconceivable way, and they just let me go on for five or 10 minutes, alone,playing this bass, slapping the bass, and doing all this on this F chord.Finally Cab brought the band in with a 'two... three... four' and they playedthe arrangement. Benny's calling off the chords to me, and after three or fourminutes the whole band lays out and Benny says, 'Now you've got it aloneagain,' and here I go back into this F. I must have played five or 10 minutes,and Benny comes over and says, 'Now you just act like you've fainted and justfall right back and I'll catch you,' and I did it and it was quite a sensationas far as the public was concerned, and the musicians were just out of theirskulls they were laughing so.

"By the timewe got to New York, Ben Webster liked me and Claude Jones liked me and theguys all said, 'This guy's going to make it,' so I was in. I stayed with theband 16 years, until 1951.”

It was verydifficult to select among Milt numerous recordings for an example of his basswork until I came across the following one-slide “videos” from guitarist BillyBauer’s Verve Plectrist CD [314 517 060-2] which features Milt’s playing on When It’s Sleepy Time Down South, Lullaby ofthe Leaves, and Maybe It’s Because [I Love You Too Much].

Joining guitaristBauer and Milt are Andrew Ackers on piano and, who else, but Osie Johnson ondrums.

Down Beat: The Great Jazz Interviews a 75th Anniversary Anthology

2012-01-24T07:00:00.000-08:00

I always keep acopy of William Zinsser’s On Writing Well by the computer whenI’m writing.

You never know,one day I might – write something well [“Hope springs eternal?”].

In his chapterentitled Writing About People – TheInterview, Mr. Zinsser urges prospective writers to:

“Get peopletalking. Learn to ask questions that will elicit answers about what is mostinteresting or vivid in their lives. Nothing so animates writing as someonetelling what he thinks or what he does—in his own words.

His own words willalways be better than your words, even if you are the most elegant stylist inthe land. They carry the inflection of his speaking voice and theidiosyncrasies of how he puts a sentence together. They contain theregionalisms of his conversation and the lingo of his trade. They convey hisenthusiasms. This is a person talking to the reader directly, not through thefilter of a writer. As soon as a writer steps in, everyone else's experiencebecomes secondhand.

Therefore learnhow to conduct an interview. Whatever form of nonfiction you write, it willcome alive in proportion to the number of ‘quotes’ you can weave into it as yougo along.”

It seems thatFrank Alkyer and Ed Enright have taken Mr. Zinsser advice to heart, for insearching for a format to celebrate the 75^th anniversary of DownBeat, they have chosen to edit a collection of interviews that werepublished in the magazine from 1934 – 2009.

The interviews aregrouped according to decades and represent, the editors words, “… 124 of thebest interviews or artist-written articles that this magazine has ever produced.”

In the book’s Preface, editors Alkyer and Enright goon to say:

“The history of DownBeat is the history of the last 75 years, just told through the lens ofjazz and blues musicians as well as the journalists who cover them. Racerelations, sexual equality, unionism, wars, recessions, birth, life, death, thetriumph of the will, the battle of the soul: it spills across the pages of Down Beat.

But the aspect ofthis dense history that holds up best, that truly endures, is the voice of theartist. The editors of Down Beat get a lot of opportunitiesto go back and look through the archives for research. It's one of the greatprivileges of working for the magazine, and one of the real occupationalhazards. Plan for an hour of research, then lose the better part of the dayreading through all of those terrific pages from bygone eras.”

Whenever I have anopportunity to go into the archives, the items that really draw my attentionare the articles written by musicians, or those heavily spiced with quotesfrom musicians. The music criticism in Down Beat is fantastic, second tonone, an essential guide to music that is being made. Record and concertreviews provide a glimpse into how a piece of music is received at the timeit's presented. The critics may not always be right, but they do give you a senseof how that work fit into the critic's personal tastes as well as into therealm of other music being created at that time.

But theopportunity to read about Ellington, Armstrong, Miles, Bird, Dizzy, Coltrane,Brubeck, Eldridge, Lester Young, Ella, Lady Day—all the greats—to hear themtalk about their lives and their careers—in their voices— that's what paints alasting picture, and delivers a glimpse inside the artist's world. That's theessence of Down Beat. …”

So not only doesthis 340 compilation contain interviews with musicians, but it also has a bevyof articles in which musicians in essence “interview” themselves by writingabout their music.

In order toprovide you with a sampling of what’s on offer in this terrific book, here areexcerpts drawn from interviews and guest artist essays for each of DownBeat’s almost eight decades of publication.

The 1930s – “Duke Ellington: A Black Geniusin a White Man’s World” – Carl Cons

“Duke is highly imaginative and extremelysensitive to close and weirdly beautiful harmonies. He has a mirror type ofmind that catches all the brilliant, colorful and vivid images of living andreflects them in tonal pictures. He isreflective rather than interpretive in that he is interested principally inreproducing all of his experiences rather than accounting for them. He is atone painter who tries to catch all the warmth and color of a setting sun onhis canvas keyboard, translating sight into sound, and using chords as hispigments.

Many critics reada great deal of their own personalities into Duke's music when they startinterpreting it for us—and usually miss the central idea. This is regrettable,but a simple mistake that would not be made over and over again if they understoodone fundamental characteristic of the Duke. He is a narrator, and a describer."Lightnin"' is the description of a train journey with all theexcitement and variety of scenes and sounds. "Mood Indigo" is an innocentlittle girl longing—soliloquizing. "Toodleo," the picture of an oldNegro man broken down with hard work in the field coming up a road at sunset,his broken walk in rhythm.” [p.5]

The 1940s – “Lester Young: Pres Talks AboutHimself, Copycats” – Pat Harris

"The troublewith most musicians today is that they are copycats. Of course, you have tostart playing like someone else. You have a model, or a teacher, and you learnall that he can show you. But then you start playing for yourself. Show themthat you're an individual. And I can count those who are doing that today onthe fingers of one hand."

It was the Prestalking. Lester Young, a pioneer of the "new" jazz, whose friendsfind themselves in the peculiar position of trying to persuade him to toleratethe majority of musicians who can't meet his standards, and, on the other hand,getting others to try and understand the Pres.

"Lester Younghas been so misunderstood, underestimated, and generally shoved around,"one of them said, "that he almost was pushed out of the field of topactive jazz musicians." The tendency is to relegate him to the position ofa historical "influence."

The 1950s – “Lennie Tristano – Multi-TapingIsn’t Phony” – Nat Hentoff

"If I do amultiple-tape," Lennie said slowly with determination, "I don't feelI'm a phony thereby Take the 'Turkish Mambo.' There is no way I could do it sothat I could get the rhythms to go together the way I feel them. And as forplaying on top of a tape of a rhythm section, that is only second-bestadmittedly. I'd rather do it 'live,' but this was the best substitute for whatI wanted.

"If peoplewant to think I speeded up the piano on 'East Thirty-Second' and 'Line Up,' Idon't care. What I care about is that the result sounded good to me. I can'totherwise get that kind of balance on my piano because the section of the pianoI was playing on is too similar to the bass sound. That's especially so on thepiano I use because it's a big piano and the bass sound is very heavy. But,again, my point is that it's the music that matters."

One of theobjections voiced to these particular tracks was that whatever Lennie did tothe tape made his playing very fast. "It's really not that fast,though," Lennie said. There are lots of recordings out there that are muchfaster. … The tempo, in most Jazz joints, in fact, is faster than on therecord. And the record was a little above A-flat. That may account for a littleof the speed, too.”

The 1960s – “The Resurgence of Stan Getz” –Leonard Feather

“Bill Coss,reviewing his Village Vanguard re-debut in the June 8, 1961, Down-Beat,synthesized the problems that Getz had to face: "There were in attendancethe haters, musical and otherwise, who came to find out whether the young whiteman, who had long ago lengthened the legendary and unorthodox Lester Young lineinto something of his own, could stand up against what is, in current jazz, atleast a revolution from it (or a revulsion about it)."

While assertingthat in his own view Getz could and did and seemed as if he always wouldmeasure up, Coss added that "the still broad-shouldered, blue-eyed,bland-faced young man met musicians backstage, and they tried him with wordsand with Indian-hold handshakes of questionable peace and unquestionable war.The young man out front was his arrogant best, holding his audiences withstrong quotations from his past and much stronger assertions of his version ofthe newest (but much older) sound!"

Clearly impliedwere the facts of jazz life that had come into focus during Getz's absence: thecool sound and the cool attitude had given way, during those two or threeyears, to a concern for heavy, aggressive statement, to an atmosphere ofracial hostility without precedent in jazz, to an accent on musical anger anddisregard for fundamentals—characteristics that were not to be found in thelight lyricism of a Stan Getz solo.”

The 1970s – “Cannonball The Communicator” –Chris Albertson

“Critic John S. Wilson summed it up in a 1961 issue of DownBeat :

‘Cannonball’s[Julian “Cannonball” Adderley] unique ability to talk with an audience withintelligence, civility and wit does a great deal toward establishing a warm,receptive atmosphere for his group.’

The new AdderleyQuintet was born on the Riverside label, whose driving force was the late BillGrauer, an enterprising man who greeted the sounds of King Oliver’s Creole JazzBand and a new Quincy Jones Orchestra with equal, boyish enthusiasm. InCannonball's music, Grauer saw earthy elements that were missing in theso-called cool jazz and the free-form music that Ornette Coleman waspioneering— Cannonball's music had soul.

Just how the term"soul jazz" came about is uncertain. Cannonball believes it wascoined by Grauer, and it might well have been. Certainly, Grauer did a greatdeal to promote the use of the term, to the point where its application becameso widespread that it lost any meaning it might have had.

Today the term"soul" has a different connotation, having become a synonym for"black." Today's soul music is that performed by the Temptations,James Brown or Gladys Knight and the Pips. "Let's say that soul hasdeveloped the way it should have, according to Bill Grauer's concept and theway I thought it was going to be," says Cannonball. "It has developedalong the lines of the old things, utilizing elements of contemporary beats andstuff like that... now the blues, the same old blues that we loved 25 or 30years ago. It's a big thing and it's called 'soul' music instead of theblues... B.B. King is a lion after so many years of being just B.B. King, and Ithink it's beautiful."

The 1980s – “Maynard Ferguson: Rocky Roadto Fame and Fortune” – Lee Underwood

“Ferguson: I always have that fun thing withcomposers and arrangers. I say, ' Are you sure what my thing is?' As soon asthey say, 'Yeah, I know what your thing is,' I say, 'Great. Now do somethingdifferent.' That is, something which is me, but which I don't impose on otherpeople.

Basie, forexample, has sounded the same for many years, and yet I can still sit in frontof that band and thrill to it. The same thing with Ellington, even with hisgreat creativity. The same thing with the Beatles. I refer only to theirvalidity. I have no interest in talking about the things that don't enhance me.Their music is their right, their privilege, their art. …

Ferguson: I love the independence of if I never have another hitsingle, we're still gonna burn it out every night and we know we'll have goodalbums. I enjoy doing my own thing and being contemporary, and doing ithonestly. I really enjoy playing "Rocky," and if you listen to it,you'll see that, in person, my solos are not the same, and the drummer doesn'tplay it the same way.”

The 1990s – “Joe Henderson: The Sound ThatLaunched 1,000 Horns” – Michael Bourne

“He's notPres-like [Lester Young] or Bird-like [Charlie Parker], not 'Trane-ish [JohnColtrane] or Newk-ish [Sonny Rollins]. None of the stylistic adjectives soconvenient for critics work for tenor saxist Joe Henderson. It's evident he'slistened to the greats: to Lester Young, Charlie Parker, John Coltrane, SonnyRollins—to them and all the others he's enjoyed. But he doesn't play like them,doesn't sound like them. Joe Henderson is a master, and, like the greats,unique.

When he came alongin the '60s, jazz was happening every which way, from mainstream andavant-garde to blues, rock and then some, and everything that was happening heplayed. Henderson's saxophone became a Triton's horn andtransformed the music, whatever the style, whatever the groove, into himself.And he's no different (or, really, always different) today. There's no"typical" Joe Henderson album, and every solo is, like the soloist,original and unusual, thoughtful and always from the heart.

“I think playingthe tenor saxophone is what I’m supposed to be doing on this planet,” says JoeHenderson. “We all have to do something. I play the saxophone. It’s the bestway I know that I can make the largest number of people happy and get myselfthe largest amount of happiness.””

The 2000s – “DaveBrubeck: That Old Cowboy” – David French

"If you knewall the guys who never say anything too good about me who secretly know Iopened the door for them, or have said it, but it isn't picked up by the jazzpolice," he said. "If I told you all the guys you'd be surprised. Atthe same time the critics are saying I'm not playing jazz, I'm influencing awhole bunch of guys who play so great.

"I'll giveyou one example," he continued. "One of my favorite piano playerswas Bill Evans. When he was young, he made a lot of good remarks about me. Inthe fake book, he gets credit for recording 'Alice in Wonderland' and 'Someday My Prince Come.'

But where did Billhear it? Maybe five years before? I know where he heard it, he knows where heheard it and he would tell me where he heard it. But it dies right there.

"I won't nameany more. But look at some of the best, far-out guys, you'll find that the guythey heard who set them off in right direction was that old cowboy Dave Brubeck."

Most authors willtell you that their writings, in whatever form, benefit immensely from theinvolvement, assistance and guidance of a good editor.

My late friend, Jack Tracy, joined Down Beat in 1949 and wasits editor from 1953-1958. According to John McDonough in his August/2011tribute to Jack, “Tracy guided Down Beat out of the last phrases of its fabled but fadingantiquity into a modern era of serious criticism and journalism.”

Upon his passingin December, 2010, I put together this video tribute to Jack and thought Ireprise it as a fitting way to close this review of Down Beat: The Great Jazz Interviews a 75^th AnniversaryAnthology.

The audio track isvibraphonist Victor Feldman performing his original composition Too Blue with Scott LaFaro on bass andStan Levey on drums.

Kind of Trio - Nuovo cinema paradiso (Love theme)

2012-01-23T10:51:00.000-08:00

We will have more to say about Max Ionata's latest CD's on Matteo Pagano's Via Veneto Jazz label - Kind of Trio and Dieci - in a future review, but in the meantime, we thought you might enjoy listening to this rendering of The Love Theme from The New Cinema Paradiso by the tenor saxophonist who is joined by Reuben Rogers on bass and Clarence Penn on drums. After Reuben's marvelous introduction, Max kicks in the melody at 1:29 minutes. Beautiful music, beautifully played. Gotta love the young dudes that are carrying on the Tradition.

Down Beat Magazine – 25th Anniversary

2012-01-21T07:00:00.000-08:00

© - Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; allrights reserved.

My how time flies.

While preparing aforthcoming feature on Down Beat Magazine’s 75^thAnniversary Interviews, the editorial staff at JazzProfiles suddenlyremembered that it had been the recipient of an LP album given to all of themagazine’s subscribers in celebration of it having reached the quarter-centurymarkin 1959.

“Recorded in Hollywood and New York in special cooperation with Verve Records underthe personal supervision of Norman Granz,” the LP which is entitled DownBeat’s Hall of Fame Volume 1 [Verve MG V-8320] is comprised of 12tracks selected by the editors “… to get a full representation of the pastquarter century in Jazz…. [the magazine was founded in 1934]”

Featured artistsinclude vocalist Ella Fitzgerald, drummer Gene Krupa, tenor saxophonist ColemanHawkins with trumpeter Roy Eldridge, pianist Oscar Peterson with bassist RayBrown, vocalist Anita O’Day, pianist Art Tatum, tenor saxophonist Stan Getz,the Count Basie Band, drummer Louie Bellson, tenor saxophonist Lester Young andalto saxophonist Johnny Hodges and his orchestra.

As we were unableto find a CD reissue of this recording, we thought it might be fun to makeavailable the liner notes from the original LP with their point-in-timereference to the state of Jazz in 1959. We wonder if our old friend, the late Jack Tracy, may have been one of “the editors” whohad a hand in writing them?

These notes arefollowed by a video which uses graphics from the LP’s cover art as developed bythe crackerjack production team at CerraJazz LTD and the Magic track from the album played by the Basie band.

© - Down Beat, copyright protected; all rightsreserved.

“JAZZ

Down Beat's

Hall of Fame,Volume I

Verve MG V-8320

If all the greatsin the history of jazz were laid end to end, you'd have . . . something similarto this LP. Released to help Down Beat celebrate its 25th Anniversary, it is adisc that attempts to achieve that kind of jazz universality.

Of course, itwould be impossible to get a full representation of the past quarter century injazz on five LPs, much less one. How many important figures you have to leaveout, how many great choruses go unincluded!

How, for example, doyou chose between a track by Dizzy Gillespie and one by Charlie Parker?

You take intoconsideration that Bird is gone, and will make no more recordings —while thegiant Diz is alive and swinging. That simplifies the task considerably . . .

Or take anotherexample: the task of selecting someone to represent the mainstream of jazzdrumming. Who should it be? Jo Jones, Buddy Rich, the late Dave Tough, Shelly Manne? In the end, it has tobe Gene Krupa. Go back, if you can, to the old Krupa band recording of No NameJive and listen how Gene builds the band unbelievably, while never losing sightof the basic roll with which he started out. Krupa has always had and still hasa sense of form and clarity of pattern that any drummer alive can learn from.All things passed through Gene: he was the gatherer of what went before and theharbinger of what was to come. Therefore, it had to be Krupa . . .

In a sense,therefore, though the selection of material for this disc was difficult, mostchoices had a certain inevitability. These are the selections:

SIDE A

YOUR RED WAGON —Ella Fitzgerald, with Lou Levy, piano; Max Bennett, bass; Gus Johnson, drums;Dick Hyman, electric organ. This is the hard-swinging Ella, rather than thegentle Ella of balladry. One of the uncontested greats, Ella punches her waythrough this old classic with a backing that demonstrates the gutsypropensities of electric organ.

GENE'S SOLO FLIGHT - Gene Krupa Quartet, withEddie Shu, tenor saxophone, Wendell Marshall, bass; Dave McKenna, piano. A good deal having beensaid already about Gene's genius, it is well to draw attention to Shu's faciletenor in the Lester Young tradition, and to McKenna's distinctive piano.

HANID—ColemanHawkins and Roy Eldridge, with Hank Jones, piano; Mickey Sheen, drums; GeorgeDuvivier, bass. Here two giants of the swing era blow in a hard bebop groove.Little Jazz barges in with a tense, rasped and swinging solo. Listen to thewild thing that happens when the mute comes out. Hawk comes in low and virileenough to sound as if he's blowing baritone. The tasteful Mr. Jonesdemonstrates why he is one of the favorite pianists of Oscar Peterson, amongothers. The tune, the title of which you might try reading backwards, is aHawkins original.

DEBUT — OscarPeterson, with Ray Brown, bass. This track, recorded in New York, recalls the days of the Oscar PetersonDuo—and Canadian pianist Peterson's first tremendous impact on the

U.S.

public. This was the formative Oscar, andit is fascinating to look at his roots.

LAIRD BAIRD -Charlie Parker, with Hank Jones, piano; Max Roach, drums; Teddy Kotick, bass.Life! From the opening phrase, the uncomplimentable Bird shows the ferociouslust for it that he had, despite all the talk of his self-destructive-ness.Recorded in 1953, the tune js an original whose title refers to Parker's son,Laird.

ANITA'S BLUES —Anita O'Day, with John Poole, drums; Bud Lavin, piano; Monty Budwig, bass.Anita, one of the handful of great singers in jazz, dryly (and brilliantly)reworks the timeless fabric of the blues.

SIDE B

TRIO BLUES — ArtTatum, with Jo Jones, drums; Red Callender, bass. Callender was the favoritebass player of the late Art Tatum. Whenever Tatum was on the West Coast,Callender was first on call to work with him; which is how Callender, a busystudio musician, happened to be on this date, done in January, 1956, in Hollywood. Modern jazz forerunner Tatum was inexcellent form the date this was recorded.

DOWN BEAT-StanGetz, with Jerry Segal, drums; Mose Allison, piano; Addison Farmer, bass.Woody Herman tells a story about Stan Getz. When Getz joined Herman in 1946,he played the band's book through once on the stand and, so far as Woody knows,never looked at it again; he had it memorized. Such was—and is—the musicianshipof this remarkable tenor saxophonist. Derived from Lester Young, Getz becamethe fountainhead of a whole new concept of tenor playing. Today, he is in theodd position of being an immortal who is only 32 years old.

MAGIC—Count Basicand his Orchestra. Personnel: Reunald Jones, Harold Baker, Thad Jones, WendellCulley, Joe Newman, trumpets; Benny Powell, Bill Hughes, Henry Coker,trombones; Frank Foster, Frank Wess, Marshall Royal, Bill Graham, CharlieFowlkes, saxophones; Freddie Greene, guitar; Ed Jones, bass; Sonny Payne,drums; Basic, piano. As it happens, Count Basic has been a bandleader exactlyas long as Down Beat has been in business: 25 years. (He took over the remnantsof the Bennie Moten band in 1934). Though this track was recorded in 1956, theBasic personnel is pretty much the same today. Thus, the track represents notonly one of the most important bands in jazz history, but one that is generallyconceded to be the most exciting on the scene today.

DRUMMER'S HOLIDAY—Louis Bellson and his orchestra.Personnel: Frank Beach, Don Fagerquist, Mel Moore, Bob Fowler, trumpets; DickNoel, Juan Tizol, Nick Di Mao, George Roberts, trombones; Bill Green, BuddyCollette, Chuck Gentry, Mah-lon Clark, saxes; Geoff Clarkson, piano; TonyRizzi, guitar; Joe Mondragon, bass; Milt Holland, drums. One of the deftest oftechnicians, Louis Bellson is one of the great big band drummers. Working withanother gifted drummer, Milt Holland, he leads — and pushes — this band (madeup mostly of top Hollywood studio muscians) into its tremendousswing.

LESTER SWINGS-Lester Young, with Gene Ramey, bass, Jo Jones, drums, John Lewis, piano. Thetitle of this tune (try humming Exactly Like You along with it) is superfluous;when didn't Lester swing? The Father of the Cool, and perhaps the mostinfluential saxophonist of them all, Pres is heard here in a 1951 session thatwas truly historic. Among its other points of interest: the driving playing ofJohn Lewis in the days when the Modern Jazz Quartet wasn't even a gleam inJohn's contemplative eye.

EARLY MORNING ROCK - Johnny Hodges and orchestra. Personnel:Ray Nance, Clark Terry, Harold Baker, trumpets; Quentin Jackson, trombone;Jimmy Hamilton, Russell Procope, Harry Carney, Hodges, saxophones; BillyStrayhorn, piano; Jimmy Woode, bass; Sam Woodyard, drums. This is the perfecttrack to wind up this disc: Duke Ellington isn't here in the flesh, but hisspirit is all through this performance by some of his boys. Thus the track is atribute to the man who has contributed most over the longest time to thegrowth of jazz.

POSTLUDE—Three ofthe men heard on this record are gone now: Art Tatum, Charlie Parker, andLester Young. In the quarter century of Down Beat's existence, these wereprimary innovators. There are no replacements for their individual geniuses.

But young talentskeep turning up. Perhaps a giant like Parker will be among them. One can onlyguess at the direction —or directions—jazz will take. During the next 25 years,Down Beat will go on looking for and reporting on the great talents— as it hasin the last quarter century.

—The Editors

1959”

The American Jazz Orchestra: A Gift from Gary, John and Roberta

2012-01-18T07:00:00.000-08:00

“In 1985, when jazzcritic Gary Giddins was told by producer Roberta Swann that she wasthinking of putting together a modern classical ensemble, he suggested that shehelp create a jazz repertory orchestra instead. With John Lewis asthe musical director, the American Jazz Orchestra had their debut concert in1986, playing works associated with Duke Ellington, Jimmie Lunceford, FletcherHenderson, Count Basie, and Dizzy Gillespie. Two recordings resulted(tributes to Ellington and Lunceford), which often found the all-star playersre-creating recorded solos. But when funding eventually ran out in the early'90s, the American Jazz Orchestra slipped away into history.”

~ Scott Yanow, Rovi

Gary Giddins isalways doing nice things for Jazz.

His engrossing andentertaining book Visions of Jazz: The First Century was the subject of anearlier feature on these pages which you can locate by going here.

I also compiled anearlier profile on John Lewis, the conductor of the American Jazz Orchestrawho, for many years, was also the musical director and pianist with the ModernJazz Quartet. You can locate the previously posted essay on John via this link. [Unfortunately, two of the videos in the original piece on John had to be removed because of copyright "third-party matches."]

Lastly, RobertaSwann of the Cooper Union in New York City should be accorded major kudos and expressionsof gratitude by Jazz fans for all she did to assist and support the AmericanJazz Orchestra during its all-too-brief existence.

Gary Giddins doesnice things for JazzProfiles, too, like allowing me permission to reprint thefollowing insert notes to the CD, The American Jazz Orchestra: EllingtonMasterpieces [East-West 7 91423-2], which is currently available as anMp3 download from Amazon [along with orchestra’s later recording of the musicof Jimmy Lunceford].

“From itsinception, The American Jazz Orchestra was devoted to the music of DukeEllington. It could hardly be otherwise. No American composer has left agreater, more diverse body of work, or set higher standards for its continuedperformance. The challenge Ellington put to posterity is twofold. There is,first of all, the astonishing size of his catalogue, which includes popular andart songs, suites, tone poems, a ballet and an opera, stage and Him scores, andconcertos and symphonic expansions, in addition to the thousands of shortinstrumental that are the cornerstone of his art. Second, there is the mediumthrough which that catalogue is best known: Ellington's own recordings, surelythe finest recorded documentation of a living composer's art since Edison patented the phonograph. From 1924 until1974, Ellington used the recording studio with prophetic and unrivaled mastery.His records became his scores.

During thehalf-century that Ellington managed to sustain his own orchestra-serving, in asense, as his own patron—there was little need for other orchestras to performhis music, even though Ellington himself performed only a fraction of it in hisgrueling regimen of one-nighters. Indeed, it would have been a kind ofplagiarism for another bandleader to appropriate Duke's music (though everybandleader was profoundly influenced by it). With Ellington's passing, however,and the passing of other great composers and arrangers of his generation, aspace opened in the life of American music. The works conceived for thatuniquely American ensemble, the big band (woodwinds, brasses, and rhythm),cried out to be heard. The American Jazz Orchestra was conceived to help answerthat need.

Some say that noorchestra can compete with Ellington's, that his records obviate the need fornew interpretations. As in most musical matters, Ellington anticipated the naysavers. The variety of his numerous versions of the same pieces undermine thewhole notion of a definitive performance. Interpretation is a relatively newidea in jazz, though it provided the sustenance for European classical music.Perhaps if Beethoven had recorded his sonatas and symphonies, subsequentgenerations would have been more circumspect in their interpretations of hisscores. But it seems doubtful—after all, Rachmaninoff, Strauss, Stravinsky,Gershwin, and Copland are a few of the contemporary composers who didrecord their own works, with no diminution of interest from other conductors.Every year an increasing number of Ellington scores are prepared and published,proving that as brilliant as the Ellington Orchestra was, his music has a lifebeyond it. At the last of the sessions at which the American Jazz Orchestrarecorded Ellington Masterpieces, the issue was resolved for oneskeptic. A TV producer who had expressed doubt about the value of recordingEllington stopped by to listen. After hearing a couple of takes, he half-rosefrom his seat and said, "My God, this proves the music's all there in thescore!" Nesuhi Ertegun turned to him and said, "Of course, that's thewhole point."

John Lewis grew upwith the Ellington Orchestra (he was even present at the dance at whichEllington orchestrated Chloe), andhas immersed himself in its music. Last year, he arranged several Ellingtonmasterpieces for The Modern Jazz Quartet's For Ellington (East-West90926). The inaugural concert by The American Jazz Orchestra, at the Great Hallof Cooper Union in 1986, included his performances of Cotton Tail, Concerto ForCootie, and Jack The Bear, plusMaurice Peress conducting "Harlem".At the AJO's Ellington program on March 3, 1988, at which Peress conducted thefirst performance of "Black, Brown & Beige" to incorporateEllington's final emendations, John Lewis prepared nine of the shorter works,as well as Ellington's concert expansion of "Mood Indigo". Writing inThe New York Times, John S. Wilsonnoted that The American Jazz Orchestra "has become a cohesive unit thatexpresses a strong personality even when it is working within the establishedoutlines of Ellington's three-minute recorded arrangements." The idea forthis album was born that evening. The following November, the AJO played these15 selections for three nights at the Blue Note. When the AJO went into thestudio a few days later, Lewis and the band were ready.

With the exceptionof Rockin' In Rhythm, introduced in1930, all of the selections on Ellington Masterpieces come from thoseyears which are often cited as the grandest in Ellington's career, 1940-1943.It's impossible to gauge precisely why a particular period finds an artist in aseeming state of grace. But in this instance some clues must be taken intoaccount. The early 1940s were transitional for jazz: swing was on the wain andbebop was around the corner. Ellington had just signed a new recording contractwhich guaranteed him artistic freedom. For 15 years, he had been honing and perfectinghis gifts, making of jazz (a word for which he had little use) a special worldof sui generis melodies, voicings, and structural designs. Most of hismusicians had been with him for a decade or more, and the new recruits were toinspire him to new heights. In Billy Strayhorn, his deputy composer, arranger,lyricist, and pianist, he found a collaborator who would eventually become hisalter ego. In the revolutionary young bassist Jimmy Blanton, he found avirtuoso with supple time and a distinct soloist's voice. In Ben Webster, themagisterial tenor saxophonist who had played with the band briefly in 1935, headded one of the most original talents of the era. And in Ray Nance, the sprycornetist, violinist, and singer who replaced Cootie Williams in 1940, he foundan irrepressible stylist who became a particular favorite with audiences. Thestage was set, and during the next few years, culminating with the presentationof "Black, Brown & Beige", Ellington recorded a string of imperishablemasterpieces.

In the wonderfullysymmetrical Sepia Panorama, the reedscome roaring in for the initial theme (a blues), parting for the two-measurebreaks played by John Goldsby, a young bassist with a particular feeling forBlanton's style. The second theme is an exchange between Eddie Bert and JohnEckert, and the third finds Danny Bank emerging from the ensemble. At thecenter is Loren Schoenberg, a saxophonist known for his proclivities towardLester Young, who in this context brings to life Ben Webster's more ruggedapproach. An issue confronting every jazz repertory performance is what to dowith the original solos. Lewis opts, for the most part, to retain those soloswhen they have become as well-known as the written passages. Ellington himselfhad some relevant words about improvisation: "The word 'improvisation' hasgreat limitations, because when musicians are given solo responsibility theyalready have a suggestion of a melody written for them, and so before theybegin they already know more or less what they are going to play. Anyone whoplays anything worth hearing knows what he's going to play, no matter whetherhe prepares a day ahead or a beat ahead. It has to be with intent."

Billy Strayhorn's Johnny Come Lately features JimmyKnepper, one of the great postwar trombone stylists; another great trombonist,Benny Powell, a 12-year veteran of The Count Basie Orchestra, is heard playingthe muted passages. Note the rhythmic meshing of the rhythm section especiallytoward the end; Howard Collins is one of the last masters of thenearly-forgotten art of rhythm guitar. On AllToo Soon, a celebrated vehicle for Johnny Hodges and Ben Webster, we hearone of the last major figures to join the Ellington band: Norris Turney wasentrusted with the awesome responsibility of taking Hodges's place. Later,Ellington encouraged him to write for the band and to introduce a new voice toits palette, the flute. Knepper and Schoenberg are also heard, as is Dick Katz,who has an uncanny flair for those skittery arpeggios that were Ellingtontrademarks. Katz also comes to the fore on Ko-Ko, the ingenious blues thatoriginated as an episode in Ellington's unfinished opera, "Boola".The open trombone part is played by Knepper, the muted one by Bert.

Chloe is one of the cleverest examples of the way Ellington couldadapt an inferior pop tune and make it sound like an exotic original. The soloistsare Knepper, Bill Easley (a gifted tenor saxophonist who is emerging as one ofthe finest clarinetists of his generation), Bert, Goldsby, Eckert andSchoenberg. Eckert is one of the most admired of the younger trumpet players inNew York; during a take of Chloe, Nesuhi Ertegun remarked, "To me, he's arevelation."

Ellington wrote along series of portraits, from "Black Beauty" (Florence Mills) in1928, to "Three Black Kings" (Martin Luther King) in 1974, and noneis more charming or evocative than Bojangles,a homage to the sublime dancer, Bill Robinson. You can almost see him tappingdown a stairway, Shirley Temple in tow, during the trio episode—which,incidentally, is played by trumpet (Eckert), trombone (Bert), and clarinet(Easley). John Lewis took over the piano chair; Schoenberg and Easley are alsofeatured.

Cotton Tail, a striking variation on the standard"I Got Rhythm" chord sequence, boasts not only a classic Ben Webstertenor solo, but an equally famous Webster-composed chorus for the reeds. Onenight, between sets at the Blue Note, Schoenberg said with some astonishment,"You know, I feel just as creative playing Ben's solo on Cotton Tail as when I'mimprovising." He sounds it. Bank and Katz are also heard, and don't missthe Banknote at the end. Nothing distinguished Ellington's sound more than hisuse of Harry Carney's baritone sax as a leading voice in the reed section. Bankis the AJO's bedrock.

Lewis considers Sidewalks Of New York one of Ellington'sunsung masterworks, and is surprised that it wasn't heard more, especially inthe town it celebrates. An inspired transformation of an old ditty, it is aswinging, surprising arrangement that puts the spotlight on Easley, Katz,Knepper, Schoenberg, Turney, and Bank. That elephant cry of a trombone figurein the closing ensemble is by Benny Powell. Billy Strayhorn's Take The "A" Train, a perfectexample of reeds and brasses set in precision responses, was almost immediatelypromoted to become the band's theme. No jazz solo is better known (or moreoften performed) than the one Ray Nance played on it. When Nance left the band,Cootie Williams (who had returned) inherited his "improvisation", andplayed it verbatim night after night for 10 years. Eckert's performance isremarkable: he's playing Nance's conception, but the interpretation is entirelyhis own.

Jack The Bear, another Ellington benchmark, was thefirst piece conceived as a vehicle to introduce the unique talent of Blanton,and is no less admired for the ensemble melodies that replicate bass lines andthe crescendos played by the brasses. In addition to Goldsby, the featuredplayers are Katz, Easley, Virgil Jones, Bank, and Powell. Main Stem, yetanother great Ellington blues, has all the rowdy charm of the Broadways itcelebrates. The soloists are Turney, Eckert, Jones, Easley, Bert, Schoenberg,and Knepper.

One of the mostwidely-noted performances of the first AJO concert was Virgil Jones's readingof Concerto For Cootie. He has playedit several times since, making it more and more an extension of his style andsound. Although the melody was later turned into the popular song "DoNothin' Till You Hear From Me", it originated in a setting that extendedphrases beyond standard eight-bar constructions, and meshed trumpet andensemble in true concerto form.

Knepper, Easley,and Jones are heard in episodes of CongaBrava, but the key role is played by Schoenberg, in a vivid retelling ofthe Webster solo. The piece was inspired by a dance craze (conga lines wereonce as ubiquitous as parties) that seems especially trite when consideredbeside this remarkable and rather complicated composition. Mel Lewis, perhapsthe finest big band drummer in the world, and certainly a savior of band musicin New York(his own orchestra recently celebrated its 23rd anniversary of Monday nights atthe Village Vanguard), defines the pulse.

When John Lewis playedthe piano part on Rockin’ In Rhythmin concert, Jim Miller of Newsweekwrote, "Lewis remained faithful to the composer's idiom while improvisingin his own style: earthy yet elegant, bluesy, debonair, as graceful as Astaire.Nearly 60 years old, Rockin' In Rhythmsuddenly felt brand new." The other soloists are Powell and Easley; Bankplays the ensemble clarinet part and Bob Millikin, who shares with Marvin Stammlead trumpet responsibilities, plays the high note climax.

-GARY GIDDINS”

Mike Zwerin, the latecolumnist about all-things-Jazz, in his Son of Miles series forculturekiosque.com, wrote an article entitled John Lewis: A Big Gig that offered this overview of the AmericanJazz Orchestra.

“FletcherHenderson, Jimmy Lunceford, Count Basie, Duke Ellington, Benny Goodman, ClaudeThornhill and the others developed the sound and popularized it before itdisappeared into the mists of the past described as the "big bandera."

Like horse-drawn carts and the 78 RPM, big bands tend to be remembered asnostalgia. They are coming back, it is true, but just on Monday or Thursdaynights or like that in tiny clubs where they outnumber the guests. That ain'texactly the idea.

In these days of instant communication, people want to know, "What haveyou done for me lately?" Like last night. It's getting so we're nostalgicfor breakfast. Monday night won't do.

As part of this small but sparse renewal, the American Jazz Orchestra wasorganized by a Village Voice critic, Gary Giddins, and Roberta Swann of CooperUnion; with the composer-pianist John Lewis, creator of the Modern JazzQuartet, as musical director.

"Though the

United States

is a nation rich in symphony orchestras,chamber groups and opera companies," Giddins stated, "it has neverproduced an enduring ensemble that could present the masterworks of itsindigenous classical music." "Enduring" meaning six nights for aone week gig. We are satisfied with so little.

Lewis and Giddins both sounded weary some summers ago, discussing the matter.Maybe it was a two-month heat wave. Somebody forgot to turn the oven off thatsummer, and the sense of purpose and humor has been hard to nourish. "It'sa lot of work, all unpaid. At least as far as I'm concerned," said Lewis.Giddins picked up the motif: "This is the hardest thing I've ever done inmy life. I'm not getting paid for it and I hate it."

My goodness! In context, however, both complained on the reverse side of thecoin of love. "An incredibly rich and varied repertoire has beencreated," Giddins also said: "Big band jazz is uniquely American. Weare trying to preserve it like a symphony orchestras tried to preserve 19thcentury European music. Of course there is one big difference - the big bandsare already preserved on record. But in order to appreciate the real spirit ofthis music, it has to be heard live. This is jazz music, the sound of now. Andif we want to preserve the tradition among the musicians, they must be giventhe opportunity to perform it for an audience." (Every day after breakfastat least.)

Lewis added:"There is no replacement for live performance. The effect on the emotionsof the public is entirely different. No Matter how well it is re-mastered,recorded music remains, in a sense, dead. It doesn't move. The purpose of thisorchestra is to preserve the golden age of large ensemble jazz and have youngergenerations of musicians and listeners make it their own."

Clearly improvisation is dead when it is preserved on record. A contradictionof terms. "Recorded jazz" is an oxymoron. Something that should be ofthe moment is frozen in time.

The American Jazz Orchestra presented concerts of the music of Lunceford, WoodyHerman and Ellington. The concerts included some of the best instrumentalistsin New York:the trombonists Jimmy Knepper and Eddie Bert, the trumpeters Jon Faddis andMarvin Stamm, the saxophonists Norris Turney and John Purcell and the drummerMel Lewis.

Each concert was preceded by a week of paid rehearsals - one of the conditionsunder which Lewis agreed to be musical director. Each involved scrapingtogether numerous donations from $5 to $5,000 and, although Cooper Uniondonated their "Great Hall" as the orchestra's home, it was never aneasy scrape.

After the American Jazz Orchestra became an established name with good reviews,a press kit and a board of directors that includes Bill Cosby and the former New York governor, Hugh Carey, who is chairman,Giddins tried to raise an annual budget from corporate sources to turn theorchestra into an ongoing repertory group like subsidized symphony orchestras.He said "I'm going after a Lee Iaccoca who loves jazz.

"I spent my entire life avoiding these kind of people," he admitted.A quite reasonable duck: "Money people are so patronizing about jazz. Ifthey support classical music, they get what they consider status for theirmoney. Their wives have a chance to wear their expensive jewelry at CarnegieHall. If they give money to rock, at least their kids can wear AerosmithT-shirts. But jazz is a bastard art. They don't see it as improving eithertheir social standing or their business, and the t-shirts suck. So the basictask is to upgrade people's perception of jazz."

Which recalls a Lenny Bruce routine. Informed that he had been booked into abar called "Ann's 440," he objected because it was a well-knownhomosexual hangout. He wanted no part of it.

"No no," the owner replied: "We want you to change allthat."

"Gee!" exclaimed Bruce: "That's a big gig."

A big gig indeed. John Lewis has been working to improve the image of jazz for50 years, since he played the piano with the Miles Davis "Birth of theCool" band in 1949. There are those who chuckle at the members of hisModern Jazz Quartet for their three-piece pinstripe suits and solemn stagedemeanor. They have been called "pretentious." But perhaps betterthan any other group, the Modern Jazz Quartet has managed to maintain thespirit, drive and risk-taking that is essential to jazz in an atmosphere ofgrand standing and status.

"I want to bring big band jazz to the concert hall, where itbelongs," Lewis said, while sipping Champagne between two grand pianos and a harpsichordin his spacious East End Avenue living room: "But not just anyconcert hall. The use of the hall is not the same as for other repertoire. Theaudience is different too. You have more young people, a greater generationalmix. The size, the atmosphere, the acoustics must be suitable."

He considers Cooper Union's 900-seat Great Hall to be perfect: "We startedby putting a microphone in front of every instrument in the 'normal' way. Wethought we had to 'adjust' for the hall's acoustics. But it didn't work. Wedidn't know how to fix it. Then I remembered once hearing every note DukeEllington's basist Jimmy Blanton played when he stood in front of the bandwithout any amplification.

"Another thing - the most famous use of the Great Hall was when AbrahamLincoln opened his presidential campaign with a speech in it. He had nomicrophone. Anyway, we could no longer afford all of that sound equipment withthe mixing table and the engineer. So we moved the bass out in front of theorchestra and forgot all the microphones. And everything cleared up. Themusicians began to make their own balance instead of relying on technicians.

"Musicians today are becoming more flexible. We have no trouble findingpeople who are capable of adapting to the different styles of the traditioneven though many of the younger generation have never been exposed to theoriginal. And, too, some of the scores and parts have been lost, we have triedto transcribe inner voicings from recordings."

"The time is right for a reawakening to the excitement of our vernacularclassics," Giddins concluded. "The American Jazz Orchestra canspearhead that revival and guarantee the survival of our musical heritage intothe next century."

This was all some years ago. Anyone hear about the American Jazz Orchestrarecently?”

Due to copyrightrestrictions from WMG, I was unable to use a track from the American JazzOrchestra’s Ellington Masterpieces for the audio portion of the followingvideo tribute to the AJO. Instead, I’vesubstituted the Ellington Orchestra’s 1943 rendition of Conga Brava.

My thanks to GaryGiddins, John Lewis, Roberta Swann and Cooper Union, Nesuhi Ertegun, the wonderful musicians who performed with the orchestra and all those associated with it for the gift of theAmerican Jazz Orchestra. Talk about alabor of love!

Herb Geller: A Return Visit

2012-01-15T07:00:00.000-08:00

When the editorialstaff at JazzProfiles first published its profile of alto saxophonistHerb Geller on November 9, 2008 featuring excerpts from Gordon Jack’s highly readable interview from FiftiesJazz Talk: An Oral Retrospective [Oxford: The Scarecrow Press, 2004], the following video tribute to Herb had not been created.

More informationabout Herb including a discography of the recordings that he has appeared oncan be located on Noal Cohen’s excellent site which you can access here.

The audio track isHerb’s tune S’Pacific View from his Firein the West LP which has been reissued as a Fresh Sound CD as ThatGeller Feller [FSR CD 91].

Joining Herb areKenny Dorham on trumpet, Harold Land on tenor saxophone, Lou Levy on piano, RayBrown on bass and Lawrence Marable on drums.

Don Fagerquist: A Skillful, Sparkling and Sophisticated Jazz Trumpeter

2012-01-12T07:20:00.000-08:00

© - Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; allrights reserved.

One of themusicians on the Left Coast who always knocked me out was trumpeterDon Fagerquist.

He had one of themost beautiful sounds that I ever heard on trumpet; plus, he was one heckuvaswinger, which always caught me by surprise. Here’s this lyrical, pretty tone,and the next thing you know the guy is poppin’ one terrific Jazz phrase afteranother.

The trumpet seemedto find him. His was one of the purest tones you will ever hear on the horn. InDon Fagerquist, the instrument found one of its clearest forms of expression.

Don never seemedto get outside of himself. He found big bands and combos to work in that bothcomplimented and complemented the way he approached playing the trumpet.

His tone was whatmusicians referred to as “legit” [short for legitimate = the sound of aninstrument often associated with its form in Classical music].

No squeezing notesthrough the horn, no half-valve fingering and no tricks or shortcuts. Even hiserect posture in playing the instrument was textbook.

If you had a childwho wished to play trumpet, Don would have been the perfect teacher for allfacets of playing the instrument.

He was clear, hewas clean and he was cool.

His sound had apresence to it that just snapped your head around when you heard it; it madeyou pay attention to it.

No shuckin’ orjiving’, just the majesty of the trumpeter’s clarion call . When the AngelGabriel picked trumpet as his axe[Jazz talk for instrument], he must have had Don’s tone in mind.

A few years ago,Jordi Pujol, owner and operator of Fresh Sound Records which is based in

Spain

, put out a very nice compilation of the Don’srecordings entitled Don Fagerquist: Portrait of a Jazz Artist [FSR 2212].

He included thisbrief annotation of Don and his career on the CD’s tray plate:

“Don Fagerquist[1927-1974] might have been one of the most underrated Jazz trumpets in historydespite countless recordings with Gene Krupa, Artie Shaw, Woody Herman, LesBrown and Dave Pell.

Although he was a Hollywood studio musician since 1956, over the yearsDon maintained his contact with the Jazz scene, as the tracks on this CD willshow.

He had a uniquesound and a way of phrasing that immediately identified him, allowing us atonce to appreciate his playing. This CD is more than a collection of mood musicand Jazz tunes; it is a delightful warm and descriptive musical portrait of agreat Jazz artist.”

We have selected The Girl Next Door track from the FreshSound anthology for the following video tribute to Don.

Russ Garcia didthe arrangement which has Don stating the melody as a ballad [0:00 – 1:07 minutes], then doubling the time [1:08 – 2:30 minutes] to allow Don to show off his Jazzchops before restating the theme as a ballad [2:31 minutes]. You might want to especiallylisten for the very clever ending in which Don plays a remarkably hip cadenza [3:16 minutes].

Jazz has had manygreat trumpet stylists over its almost 100 year history, but I don’t think thatanyone has even played the horn prettier than Don Fagerquist.

OSIE JOHNSON: An Undistinguished Distinctive Drummer

2012-01-09T07:00:00.000-08:00

© - Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; allrights reserved.

“In studio work, you’realways under the gun. You’re expected to play the parts right no matter howdifficult they are …. It’s a matter of being precise and right, all the time. It’s brain surgery,that’s what it is. And every operation has to be a success. There are nofailures – a failure and you’re gone.”

- Alvin Stoller, drummer

Burt Korall, awriter who, among his other significant writings about Jazz, authored two bookson Drummin’Men: The Heartbeat of Jazz, only makes one reference to him when hecites him as “… the gifted drummer, Osie Johnson,” on page 200 of the secondvolume, The Bebop Years.

There is also areference to Osie in Gary Giddins’ Vision of Jazz: The First Century wherein the context of talking about Bud Powell and the drummers he performed withhe notes: “He worked only with the best: Max Roach, Kenny Clarke, Roy Haynes,Art Blakey, Art Taylor, Osie Johnson – percussionists who complemented hisdynamics, speed, and shifting rhythms.” [p. 321]

Outside ofincidental references such as these, you’d be hard-pressed to find anyinformation about Osie other than in the ever-reliable Encyclopedia of Jazz.

The lack of mentionof Osie is made even more striking by the fact that this was a drummer who waseverywhere, and I mean everywhereapparent, on the New York studio and Jazz scene especially in the 1950s and mid-1960s.

Osie worked withall of the top arrangers –Manny Albam [with whom, he was close friends], QuincyJones, Oliver Nelson, Bob Brookmeyer, Hal McKusick, Al Cohn, Gerry Mulligan,George Russell – the list is endless. The Lord Discography cites Osie’s name ashaving appeared on 670 recording sessions!

He toured withpianists Earl “Fatha” Hines, Erroll Garner and Dorothy Donegan as well as tenorsaxophone legend Coleman Hawkins and clarinetist Tony Scott. Osie, who made hisown album as a singer – A Bit of the Blues [RCA CD74321609832] - was a favorite ofvocalists Carmen McRae and Dinah Washington, both of whom he wrote arrangementsfor in the 1950s.

Osie had studiedtheory and harmony in high school in Washington, D.C. and privately, so he knew music and was anexcellent reader, both of which may help explain why he was so heavily indemand at recording sessions.

He was the staffdrummer for extended periods of time on both the NBC and CBS studio orchestrasin New York City and he appeared as a freelance percussionist on a slew ofindependent TV commercials and radio jingles.

Perhaps, part ofthe reason for his obscurity was due to the fact that he died in 1966 at therelatively young age of 43 from renal system infections that led to kidneyfailure.

Fortunately, GeorgesPaczynski in the second volume of his prize-winning Une Histoire de la Batterie deJazz has three entire pages devoted to Osie and his style of drumming.Fortunately, that is, for those who read French as the work has not [to myknowledge] been translated into English.

Paczynski includesOsie along with Harold “Doc” West, Rossiere “Shadow” Wilson, Gus Johnson,Gordon “Specs” Powell and Alvin Stoller in his chapter entitled – La fin de l’ère swing - les batteurscharnières. With charnières translated to mean “hinge” or “pivotal,” the authoris grouping Osie among those drummers whom he considers to be among those whomade the successful transition from the Swing Era to Bebop.

Many better knownSwing Era drummers never did make this transition, among them Davy Tough andGene Krupa.

To be able to doso was a considerable accomplishment as it required getting out of playing downinto the drum kit [think hands on snare and an incessant bass drum beat] andplaying up, onto the cymbals using the snare and the bass drum for accents.

Keeping time inthis manner involved a total reorientation in the way in which a drummerthought about time.

Drummers like Osieand the other transition drummers in Paczynski’s grouping who accommodated thechange in style did so by keeping things simple.

They became,first-and-foremost, timekeepers with a steady ride cymbal beat and an accenthere and there. Nothing complicatedrequiring the independence and heightened coordination of a Max Roach or aPhilly Joe Jones or a Joe Morello.

More drumming toestablish a pulse and to keep things moving along. Clean, simple, and stayingout of the way; Osie just blended in with the musical environment instead oftrying to dominate it – it was a style of drumming that was more felt thanheard.

In fact, Osie’sdrumming bordered on the indistinct and yet, everyone loved playing with himprecisely because as Paczynski explains:

« En fait, il est absolument impossibled'identifier Osie Johnson. A l'inverse d'un musicien qui ne peut investir sonjeu trop personnel et « engage » dans tous les contextes musicaux, il estcapable de s'adapter avec plus ou moins de bonheur a toute propositionmusicale, et est constamment sollicite en tant que tel. »

A very loosetranslation of which would read:

“In fact, it isabsolutely impossible to identify [in the sense of classifying] Osie Johnson.He was the opposite of those who try and interject their personality into themusic. Instead, he tried to contentedly fit himself into all musical contexts, andhe was sought out by other musicians precisely because of his willingness to doso.”

A number of timesin his essay, Paczynski stresses the fact that Osie emphasized drumming“fundamentals” in his playing: a rock solid beat, precision in the placement ofaccents, a perfect placement of kicks and fills and a clear and uncomplicatedsound from both the drums and the cymbals.

Oh, and he was anexcellent reader for as Alvin Stoller, Osie’s counterpart as an in demandstudio drummer on the West Coast stated: “In studio work, you’re always underthe gun. You’re expected to play the parts right no matter how difficult theyare …. It’s a matter of being precise and right, all the time. It’s brain surgery, that’s what it is. And everyoperation has to be a success. There are no failures – a failure and you’regone.”

More indications of whatmakes Osie’s style so distinctive can be found in the following question thatwas put to the online drummer chat group:

“What do you all recommend for tuning a 5x14brass snare to capture a tight, crisp sound with minimal after ring? The snaresound I'm after is similar to the following:

1. Osie Johnson's playing on "Please Don't Talk About Me When I'mGone" from Sonny Stitt's Now! (mp3 attached). The first 20seconds of the track provide a good snapshot of Johnson's crisp snare sound.

In order to achieve that kind of sound, do I need to have

a) both top and bottom heads tuned the same
b) the top head tuned higher/tighter than the bottom head
c) the bottom head tuned higher/tighter than the top head
d) ??

At the moment, I have my Tama 5x14 brass snare tuned with top head close to 90and bottom head a little over 80, I believe (according to my Drum Dial). I havea standard Remo Coated Ambassador on the batter side.

Thanks in advance for any help anyone can offer!”

An answer to thisquestion might also serve to explain the title of our piece on Osie – “An Undistinguished Distinctive Drummer.”

The title is not aZen koan [an insoluble intellectualproblem: think – “What was your true nature before you mother and fatherconceived you?”]

Osie Johnson wasunfortunately undistinguished as a drumming stylist, and yet, his drumming wasimmediately discernible. He was distinctive without trying to be so.

Most of Osie’sdistinctiveness did begin with the sound of his snare drum, which he tightenedto within an inch of its "life." How he kept it from tearing in two is beyond me.

So the choice fromthe chat group options would be – “a)both top and bottom heads tuned the same” - although a much more complete answer mightaddress everything from the quality and composition of the maple shell thatformed Osie’s snare drum to the type of drum heads he used, ad infinitum.

The mostinstructive portion of the chat group question is the example that was sentalong with the annotation - The first 20seconds of the track provide a good snapshot of Johnson's crisp snare sound.

We have used thevery same track - "Please Don't TalkAbout Me When I'm Gone" from Sonny Stitt's Now! - in our videotribute to Osie, but we would rephrase the chat group statement to read: The first 20 seconds of the track provide agood snapshot of Osie Johnson's approach to drumming.

For in addition tohis distinctively crisp snare sound, this short segment reveals Osie playingtime on the hi-hat before switching to the ride cymbal, his gentle butinsistent sense of swing and the lightness of his touch which allowed him tofit into the music almost seamlessly.

This is a perfectillustration of the drummer as an accompanist and also the reason why melodyand harmony guys loved working with Osie: his drums are not resonating andbooming, his accents are not distracting and he isn’t calling attention tohimself with complicated drumming figures.

On this track,Osie is a musician among a group of musicians intent on making music andtherein lies the key to his success and to his distinctiveness.

Whatever themusical context – piano trio Jazz, small group Jazz or big band Jazz – Osiealways sounds just right; he fits in.

And he alwaysnails it, characteristically.

For all of hisblending in, I would venture to say that anyone – musician or not – that isfamiliar with Osie Johnson’s playing would recognize it … “after [listening to]the first 20 seconds” of a recorded track.

Very few drummershave ever been as distinctively undistinguished as Osie Johnson.

Manne on Gunn

2012-01-06T07:00:00.000-08:00

© - Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; allrights reserved.

“Manne’s men do the Peter Gunn music with a kind oftough-guy cartoon expression, but this was a great combo anyway and Candoli andGeller seldom knew how to be boring.”

- Richard Cook & Brian Morton, ThePenguin Guide to Jazz on CD, 6^th Ed.

Traditionally,Monday nights were a “dark night” for gigging musicians.

There wereexceptions, of course. One example thatcomes to mind is the Terry Gibbs Dream Band which was made up of studiomusicians who played local gigs around Hollywood with Terry’s band on Monday nights.

Probably the mostfamous, let alone most enduring, Monday off-night gig was the one involving NewYork City studio musicians and the Thad Jones-Mel Lewis Orchestra at theVillage Vanguard, a tradition which continues to this very day.

But for me andmany other musicians, one benefit of being off on Mondays was that for a fewyears, we all got to catch Peter Gunn when it premiered from 9:00 to 9:30 on Monday nights, on NBC-TV.

It starred CraigStevens as Peter Gunn and also starred Lola Albright as his girl, Edie Hart;Herschel Bernardi as Lt. Jacoby; Hope Emerson as Mother, at whose nightclubEdie sings. The program was created and directed by Blake Edwards who, in astroke of genius, tapped Henry Mancini as its Musical Director. The ExecutiveProducer was Gordon Oliver, the sponsor was Bristol-Myers and filming was doneat Universal-International Studios in Hollywood [when it was still had a “back lot” and beforeit developed a theme park on it].

The bonanza of Jazz-on-Television the program launched is described in the following excerpt from Lester Koenig’s insert notes to ShellyManne & His Men Play Peter Gunn [Contemporary S 75-60/OJCCD 946-2]:

Peter Gunn is anadult mystery with a different kind of hero: a private eye who is literate,suave, well-groomed, and—digs jazz. The weekly show hit the NBC-TV network September 22,1958, andzoomed to a success which is, in part, the result of its jazz score, composedand arranged by Henry Mancini, known as Hank to the leading jazz stars in the Los Angeles area who have played for his soundtracks.Since November 1958, Shelly Manne and Victor Feldman have been regular membersof the band which records the show's score. When Shelly became enthused aboutthe idea of recording an album of Mancini originals from Peter Gunn, he invitedFeldman to appear with him as a guest star.

Aside from its ownconsiderable merits, the fact that a jazz score has created so much attentionis a reflection of the staying power of the new marriage of jazz and TV, anuptial which seems to have eclipsed the short-lived, annulled wedding of jazzand poetry. Jazz has taken an increasing part in the everyday living of thenation, and a summation of jazz in 1958 reveals, as leading critic LeonardFeather points out in the February 1959 issue of Playboy:

‘... Jazz — both modern and traditional—filled video screens... CBS'hour-long show, The Sound of Jazz... the first Timex all-star jazz show, emceedby Steve Allen, was seen on NBC... a unique effort to offer it on aneducational level was undertaken when NBC launched a 13-week series, TheSubject Is Jazz... Bobby Troup's Stars of Jazz was projected to the full ABCnetwork,.. Disc jockey Art Ford kicked off his own weekly show on New York's Channel 13. In Chicago,WBBM-TV presented Jazz in the Round... CBS launched a-five-nights-a-week-series, Jazz is My Beat.’

Other examplescome to mind. In September a Westinghouse spectacular featured Benny Goodman,Andre Previn, Shelly Manne, and Red Mitchell. Previn also made a guestappearance on the Steve Allen show. And jazz as part of the score for dramaticpictures and TV shows made a tremendous impact when Walter Wanger engagedJohnny Mandel to write a jazz score for I Want to Live (which featuredShelly Manne); when Revue Productions' Stan Wilson used a jazz group for thescore of the weekly M Squad; and when Spartan Productions engaged Hank Mancinias Musical Director for Peter Gunn.”

Pete Rugolo’s Jazzscores for Thriller and Richard Diamond, Elmer Bernstein’sfor JohnnyStaccato and Lalo Schifrin’s for Mannix would also come into focus,but as Jazz fans everywhere know, this abundance of TV Jazz scores would waneand be pretty much gone by the close of the decade of the 1960’s.

Les Koenig, whoowned Contemporary Records, took great care to create a studio atmosphere whichtook into consideration these factors:

“For jazz musicians to be free to expressthemselves, and to make personal statements, they need the kind of relaxedatmosphere not commonly found in recording studios. The average record datetakes only three hours. But, like a barbecue fire which always seems to beglowing at its best after you've removed the steaks, jazz record dates usuallybegin to develop a 'feeling' just as the three-hour time limit is up.

At Contemporary we've tried to break thistime barrier by scheduling sessions of at least six or nine hours. In the caseof Peter Gunn we took four three-hour sessions and as a result an exceptionallyclose rapport was achieved; each musician felt free to contribute his ideas andsuggestions came so thick and fast Shelly was often in the position of amoderator at a heated Town Hall session.

That The Men were able to approach each ofMancini's pieces with a fresh, spontaneous, and valid conception is a tributeto their outstanding talents, as well as to the vitality of Mancini'sprovocative new jazz themes.”

—LESTER KOENIGJanuary 1959

These notesappeared on the original album liner.

Orrin Keepnewsmade these comments about Shelly Manne & His Men Play Peter Gunn [ContemporaryS 75-60/OJCCD 946-2] when it was released as a CD:

“For the most part, television music was avast jazz wasteland before the Peter Gunn series debuted in the fall of 1958.The show's score both made a name for composer Henry Mancini and changed thesound of televised drama. It was inevitable that Shelly Manne, Hollywood studiomainstay and a proven champion at jazz interpretations of Broadway shows,would give Mancini's music a more expansive blowing treatment, and theresulting album reminds us that there was more to Peter Gunn than its dramatictheme and the classic ballad "Dreamsville." Fans of Manne's Men shouldnote that the album was taped during the brief tenure of alto saxophonist HerbGeller, and that it makes winning use of the vibes and marimba of added starterVictor Feldman, whose piano would shortly be heard to superb advantage on theband's Blackhawk recordings (OJCs 656-660).”

We’ve selected Soft Sounds by Shelly and The Men as theaudio track to the following video tribute to the Peter Gunn TV series.

Paul Desmond - The Complete RCA Victor Recordings featuring Jim Hall

2012-01-03T07:00:00.000-08:00

© - Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; allrights reserved.

When Doug Ramsey’swork is featured on the site, I try to keep my introduction to a minimum.

Why spoilanything, right?

Paul Desmond andDoug Ramsey were pals.

All of us shouldbe so lucky to have a friend like, Doug.

In honor of hislate, buddy’s accomplishments, Doug has written Take Five: The Public and PrivateLives of Paul Desmond, a work that has to rank as one of the bestbiographies of a Jazz artist ever written. Parkside published it in a lovelyfolio edition and should you wish to order a copy, you can do so by going here.

Doug has kindlygiven the editorial staff at JazzProfiles permission to offer hisinformative and insightful insert notes to the booklet that accompanies PaulDesmond - The Complete RCA Victor Recordings featuring Jim Hall.

You will findthese reproduced below along with some of Desmond’s always mirthful writings,the cover art from the albums that make up the RCA set and a selection of ChuckStewart’s exquisite photographs of Paul.

Perhaps whenyou’ve finished reading Doug and Paul’s writings, you might enjoy watching ourvideo tribute to Paul which was developed with the help of the crackerjack graphics teamat CerraJazz LTD.

The audio track is Paul’s performance of I’ve GotYou Under My Skin from the Desmond Blue RCA recording. Jim Hallis featured on guitar and the arrangement is by Bob Prince. [Just click the “X”when the ads appear on the screen to close out of them.]

Happy New Year.

© - Doug Ramsey, copyright protected; all rightsreserved.

We were in anelevator in the Portland Hilton, waiting for the doors to close when the carjerked and dropped slightly, and a bell sounded.

"What wasthat?" a startled woman asked.

"E-flat,"Paul Desmond and I said simultaneously.

I think that'swhen he decided we could become friends.

We had beenacquaintances since a decade earlier when the Brubeck Quartet was playing aconcert at the University of Washington in 1955, and I was writing about music forthe UW Daily. During intermission, Desmond and I discussed cameras and books.We picked up the conversation later that night at a party for the band, and itcontinued until toward the end of May 1977. He told me then that the doctorshad decided to discontinue radiology and chemotherapy, that the treatments hadbecome worse than the disease, and the disease was pretty bad. His liver,however, was still perfect.

The liver thinghad become a running gag. Desmond and good Scotch were, shall we say, notstrangers. It amused him that after a physical examination in early 1976 turnedup a spot on his lung, his liver was given a clean bill of health. He enjoyedthe irony.

"Pristine,"he said, "perfect." One of the great livers of our time. Awash inDewars and full of health."

I think he waseven amused by the circumstances of the discovery of his nemesis. He had goneto the doctor about foot trouble, and they found the cancer. The swelling ofthe feet turned out to be temporary and unimportant.

His mother wasIrish and literate, his father German and musical, so it was probablyinevitable that Paul Breitenfeld's verbal and musical selves would be witty,warm and ironic. Until near the end of his life, according to Gene Lees, Desmond thought his father was Jewish,but a relative said he wasn't. The name Desmond came from a phone book.

"Breitenfeldsounded too Irish," he told me.

Among those whoknew him, his wordplay was as celebrated as his solos. He was quiet, quick andsubtle, and some of his remarks have become widely published, like the oneabout his wanting to sound like a dry martini. One night at closing time atBradley's, Jimmy Rowles was packing his fake books, and Bradley Cunninghamremarked that if Peter Duchin could haveaccess to all of those chords, his prayers would be answered.

"Unfortunatelyfor Peter Duchin," Desmond said, "all of his prayers have alreadybeen answered.”

Hanging on ourdining room wall was Barbara Jones' large oil painting of four cats stalking amouse. Seeing it for the first time, Paul said, "Ah, the perfect albumcover for when I record with the Modern Jazz Quartet."

"You'llnotice that the mouse is mechanical," I pointed out.

"In thatcase," he said, "Cannonball will have to make the record."

Like all truelovers of language and humor, Desmond knew that the only good pun was a badpun. He and Jim Hall conspired to conceive a sort of Jazz Goes to

Ireland

album with outrageous song titles like"Fitzhugh or No One," "The Tralee Song," "Mahoney aBird in a Gilded Cage" and "Lovely Hoolihan."

Paul loved tovisit our house in Bronxville, a half-hour north of Manhattan. The place was on a hill with huge rocks,a pond, pine trees and a stone verandah that looked down on the street and awooded lot where children played. "The real estate deal of thecentury," he called it, never failing to marvel that such rural-seemingterritory existed so close to "ground zero," his neighborhood at 55th Street and 6th Avenue.

After dinner, wesat on the verandah and talked, often for hours but never non-stop. There werelong, comfortable silences.

In the yearsfollowing the dissolution of the Brubeck Quartet, Desmond was semi-retired,playing only when he was presented the opportunity to work with musicians headmired or, in at least one case, to help someone. He was one of the first toplay the Half Note when it moved from among the warehouses and garages of lowerManhattan to the expensive mid-town real estate thatwas to prove the club's undoing. Desmond maintained he was accepting the gigonly because it was around the corner from his apartment and he could pop outof bed and into the club. He never admitted that he wanted to help theCanterino family launch the new joint successfully; to do so would have been toadmit that he had the drawing power of a star. (Never has there been a starless eager for the role.)

He appeared fairlyoften with the Two Generations of Brubeck troupe, hit the road with the oldquartet in the 25th anniversary reunion tour in the winter of 1976, andtraveled to Toronto now and then to work at Bourbon Street with Ed Bickert, DonThompson, Jerry Fuller and, sometimes, Terry Clarke. In 1969, Paul was in theall-star band assembled by Willis Conover for Duke Ellington's 70th birthdaypart at the White House, the only domestic affairs high point of the Nixonadministration. That night, as I have recounted elsewhere, Paul did animpression of Johnny Hodges that was so accurate that it caused Ellington tosit bolt upright in astonishment, an effect that gave Desmond great pleasurewhen I described it to him.

At the New OrleansJazz Festival the same year, there was a memorable recreation of the GerryMulligan Quartet with Desmond as the other horn, Milt Hinton on bass and Alan Dawson the drummer. In New Orleans, Paul and I hung out virtually non-stopfor four days, closing the French Quarter every morning shortly before sunrise.We avoided the strip joints and pseudo-jazz clubs and concentrated on littlebars known to tourists only if they stumbled in. And we listened to all themusic we could absorb at that remarkable festival, still remembered bymusicians and audiences alike as the finest jazz festival ever, and describedby Desmond one night on a television program I was conducting as "the mostcivilized I have ever attended."

Taking in oneincredible jam session in the ballroom of the Royal Orleans Hotel, we witnessedRoland Kirk surpassing himself in one of the most inspired soprano sax solos eitherof us had ever heard. In a fast blues, Kirk used Alphonse Picou's traditionalchorus from High Society for the basis of a fantastic series of variations thatwent on for chorus after chorus. We were spellbound by the intensity and humorof it, and Paul announced that henceforth he would be an unreserved Roland Kirkfan, even unto gongs and whistles. In the same session, Jaki Byard rose fromthe piano bench, picked up someone's alto saxophone and began playingbeautifully.

"I wish he'dmind his own business," Desmond said.

About his ownplaying, he was modest, even deprecatory. "The world's slowest altoplayer," he called himself, "the John P. Marquand of the altosax," and he claimed to

have won a specialaward for quietness. He was reluctant to listen to his recordings, althoughonce after dinner when we'd had enough Dewars he agreed to hear a Brubeck concertI had on a tape never issued commercially. I intrigued him into listening byinsisting that his solo on Pennies from Heaven was among his best work. In myopinion, Paul's solos tend* ed to be too short, but on this piece he stretchedout for ten choruses of some of his most architectonic playing, full ofinventive figures, sly rhythmic twists and ingenious quotes.

He nodded alongwith himself, laughed a couple of times (in the right places, obviously) andwhen it was over said, "I agree." That's the closest I ever heard

Desmond come toapproval of his own playing.

During those finalnine years, he was allegedly working on a book about his life and times inmusic. It was to called, How Many of You Are There in the Quartet, after aquestion asked by airline stewardesses around the world. There were periodicnegotiations with agents and publishers, even an advance, but little of thebook actually made it onto paper. The only chapter in print was in Punch, theBritish humor magazine. In an account of the Brubeck group's engagement at acounty fair in New Jersey, Desmond melded a horse show, volunteer firemen's'demonstrations, Brubeck's only known appearance on electric organ, and amarathon Joe Morello drum solo into a montage worthy of S.J. Perelman. Thebook, he now and then claimed, was mainly an excuse that allowed him to hangout with the writers at Elaine's. That two-page cadenza, his liner notes, and afew letters remind us of Paul's literary ability. He was a creative writingmajor at San Francisco State College in the '40s, but he got sidetracked.

We talked by phonefairly often in the last years of his life, when I was living in San Antonio. When the calls came, they invariablybegan with his cheerful greeting, "Hi, it's me, Desmond." The lasttime, we found the conversation tapering off into an uncomfortable successionof commonplaces, a sort of shadow boxing that grew out of what he knew and Iguessed. We should both get mildly bombed the following Friday night, hesuggested, and he would call me from Elaine's.

His housekeeperfound him dead on Monday.

Paul Desmond'soriginal liner notes for TAKE TEN (RCA LSP 2569):

TAKETEN: furtherreflections on "Black Orpheus" and other timely topics...

This space isusually occupied, as most hardened collectors know, by the prose stylings ofGeorge Avakian. I'm taking his place this time partly because he's up to hisjaded ears in Newport tapes and partly because this way we'll have room on the back forpictures. This brings us instantly to the first problem, which is that Georgefrequently starts out by saying all manner of nice things about me which Ican't say about myself without blushing, and it's ridiculous to walk aroundblushing when you are twenty-two years old. Nevertheless I should explain who Iam and all, especially for those among you who may have picked up the albumbecause of the cover under the impression that you were getting the score froma Vincent Price movie.

Briefly, then, I'mthis saxophone player from the Dave Brubeck Quartet, with which I've been associated since shortlyafter the Crimean War. You can tell which one is me because when I'm notplaying, which is surprisingly often, I'm leaning against the piano. I alsohave less of a smile than the other fellows. (This is because of theembouchure, or the shape of your mouth, while playing, and is very deceptive.You didn't really think Benny Goodman was all that happy, did you? Nobody'sthat happy.) I have won several prizes as the world's slowest alto player, aswell as a special award in 1961 for quietness.

My compatriot inthis venture is Jim Hall, about whom it's difficult to say anythingcomplimentary enough. He's a beautiful musician-the favorite guitar-picker ofmany people who agree on little else in music, and he goes to his left verywell. Some years ago he was the leading character, by proxy, in a moviestarring Tony Curtis (SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS), a mark of distinction achievedonly recently by such other notables as Hugh Hefner and Genghis Khan. He's asort of combination Pablo Casals and W.C. Fields and hilariously easy to workwith except he complains once in a while when I lean on the guitar.

Gene Cherico,who's becoming a thoroughly fantastic bass player, has only been playing bassfor the last eight years. (Before that he was a drummer, but a tree fell onhim. No kidding, that's the kind of life he leads.) On TAKE TEN he was replaced by my sturdy buoy andhard-driving friend Eugene Wright.

Connie Kay is, ofcourse, the superb drummer from the Modern Jazz Quartet, and if a tree everfalls on him I may just shoot myself. He's like unique.

About the tunes:TAKE TEN is another excursion into 5/4 or 10/8,whichever you prefer. Since writing TAKE FIVE a few years back, a number of otherpossibilities in the 5 & 10 bag have come to mind from time to time. TAKE TEN is one of them. THEME FROM 'BLACK ORPHEUS'and SAMBA DE ORFEU, along with EMBARCADERO and EL PRINCE; are in a rhythm whichby now I suppose should be called bossaantigua. (It's too bad the bossa nova became such a hula-hoop promotion.The original feeling was really a wild, subtle, delicate thing but it got lostthere for a while in the avalanche. It's much too musical to be just a fad; itshould be a permanent part of the scene. One more color for the long winternight, and all.)

ALONE TOGETHER,NANCY and THE ONE I LOVE are old standards I've alwaysliked. They were arranged, more or less, while we were milling about drinkingcoffee and all. This approach, while making for a comfortable looseness,usually leads to general apprehension towards the end of the take and frequentdisasters, but occasionally you get a fringe benefit. At the end of ALONETOGETHER, Connie hit the big cymbal a good whang there and it sailed off thedrum set and crashed on the floor. After the hysterical laughter subsided wewere getting set to tear through it one more time but we listened to it anyway,out of curiosity, and it sounded kind of nice so we left it in. That's one ofthe few advantages this group has over the MJQ-if Connie's cymbal hits thefloor on an MJQ record date, you by God know it, but with this group you can'treally be sure.

George Avakian wasbenevolently present at all stages of getting this record together, and BobPrince, doubtless overwhelmed at having a song named after him, appeared frequentlywith advice and counsel which was totally disregarded.

I would also liketo thank my father who discouraged me from playing the violin at an early age.

PAUL DESMOND

Paul Desmond'soriginal liner notes for BOSSA ANTIGUA (LSP 3320):

DELINEATIONS BYDESMOND

It's me, PaulDesmond, rapidly aging sax player with the Brubeck Quartet, sometimes calledthe John P. Marquand of the alto, and again playing hookey from the mother lodewith the same group of sturdy compatriots that made TAKE TEN such a Joy to record. On bass is theJovial presence of Eugene Wright, without whom the entire Brubeck operationwould grind to a halt in a matter of hours. On drums, the master time-keeper ofthe Modem Jazz Quartet, Connie Kay -who, if he didn't exist, would be much tooperfect ever to be imagined by anyone. And on guitar, the redoubtable (thatmeans the first time you hear it you don't believe it, and when you hear itagain later you still don't believe it) Jim Hall.

The term bossa antigua (it means, or at least itshould, "old thing," as opposed to "new thing") began as aslightly rueful play on words, because by the time I got around to doing a fewbossa nova tunes on TAKE TEN it was several years after the first flash from Brazil andcouldn't property be called a new thing any more. This album carries the term astep further, in that the rhythm on several tracks is a sort of skeletal bossanova with various old-timey flavors added. ALIANCA, for instance, has Jim Hallfunctioning as the only accredited Brazilian delegate, accompanied by routinelyimpeccable Connie Kay shtick and a nice comfortable New York 2 from Eugene Wright. A SHIP WITHOUT ASAIL and THE NIGHT HAS A THOUSAND EYES contain other variations, ranging from Early Calumet City Strip toa subliminal fraelich. (If any of you feel creative out there, you could gettogether some rainy night and figure out an Old Thing dance to go along.)

The tunes, exceptfor SHIP and NIGHT, are mostly originals. O GATO was written by Jim Hall'sfriend Jane Herbert, and it's as charming as she is, which is saying a lot. Theothers are tunes I wrote. One is based on a minor adaptation of a melodyindigenous to early American coffee houses, a few are extensions of themes thathave been wandering through my head recently, and the one called CURASAODOLOROSO is a sort of three-stage operation.

Originally I'dwanted to do HEARTACHES, because it seemed so incongruous and because theoriginal record of it had something of the same Neolithic connection to bossanova as early marching bands had to Gerry Mulligan. I wrote a different set ofchanges for it and we tried it, and it was so horrible that George Avakianemerged from the control room in the middle of the first take, waving his armsand shuddering. (This is a musical milestone of sorts, since George usuallysmiles serenely thru the most disastrous takes imaginable, hoping thatsomething good will somehow happen and he'll be able to splice it in later. I thinkthe only other time he walked out in the middle of a take, the studio was onfire.)

So, on a laterdate we used the chords and avoided the melody, which is what you're supposedto do in jazz anyhow, come to think of it, and it worked out nicely. (Sinceit's a different melody and a different set of chords, the writers ofHEARTACHES won't be around looking for royalties - but if they ever feel likedropping by for a drink, I'm usually home between 4 and 6.)

As always, GeorgeAvakian masterminded the entire operation effortlessly, even with a telephonemore or less permanently installed in one ear. (There was one point, I mustadmit, when the only way I could get his attention was to go out to the phonebooth and call him.) I don't know how the phone calls worked out, but I lovethe album.

PAUL DESMOND

© - Doug Ramsey, copyright protected; all rightsreserved.

PAUL DESMOND WITHJIM HALL

Until his seriesof RCA Victor dates in the 1960s, Paul Desmond did little recording as aleader, most unusual for a star soloist. In 1954 he had two Fantasy sessions,one with trumpeter Dick Collins and tenor saxophonist Dave Van Kriedt, colleagues from the BrubeckOctet; the other with guitarist Barney Kessel and the Bill Bates singers. Theentire output of those encounters fit on a 10-inch LP made of green vinyl(everything done by Max and Sol Weiss, Fantasy's founders, was colorful). Inthe notes for it, Paul wrote, "My name is Paul Desmond and here I am 30years old and this my first album in which I am not breathing down somebodyelse's neck...." In 1956, Desmond put together a quartet for anotherFantasy album (red vinyl) with Don Elliott on mellophone and trumpet and elephantsrampant on the cover. Desmond and Gerry Mulligan shared leadership of a 1957session for Verve. He and guitarist Jim Hall linked up for a quartet date forWarner Bros, in 1959.

CD1

DESMOND BLUE

For four yearsbeginning in mid-1961, Desmond was in Webster Hall or RCA's famous Studio A 19times for sessions that produced five albums with Hall. The first to bereleased was Desmond Blue (later re-released on CD as Late Lament, with theaddition of the previously unissued Adviseand Consent, Autumn Leaves and Imagination). The arrangements forstrings and horns were by Bob Prince, who had established his reputation as thecomposer of a staple of the modern ballet repertoire, New York Export: Op.Jazz. "I'd always wanted to hear Desmond with strings," Prince toldWill Thornbury. "It was a dream come true."

Prince'srecollection of Paul's modus operandi at the strings dates reminds us ofDesmond's dedication to spontaneity.

"He was awonderful musician," Prince told Thornbury, "one of the few to transformthe saxophone and shape it into a new sound. I've never known anyone with sucha

pure tone - onethat I'd never heard before and won't again. When it came to playing withstrings and woodwinds, he wanted the experience of going into the studio andhaving a new toy to play with. It really came down to that, because in manycases I was going to show him what I'd done and he'd say, 'No, no, that's allright—just go ahead and do it.' He didn't really want me to come over and showit to him on the piano or even look at it on the score, because he liked that,just like he liked going in with Jim and the rhythm section and beingsurprised by them. I was amazed by what he did. In all of the album there's onechord—one point—where I stuck in an augmented eleventh, and had I known he wasnot going to augment the eleventh, I'd have thought twice about putting in theupper functions. That's the only exception, and it only happened for about aquarter of a bar. I'm not telling where that is."

The empathybetween Paul and Jim Hall is introduced in MyFunny Valentine following the neo-baroque introduction written by Prince.It is more fully disclosed in I've GotYou Under My Skin when the strings lay out. Desmond plays a chorus withonly Milt Hinton's bass and Robert Thomas's drums behind him, then Hall beginsa pattern of gently prodding chords and moves the intensity up so that by thetime the strings re-enter on a key change, the swing has reached its highestlevel of the piece.

CD2

TAKE TEN

Take Ten wasDesmond's follow-up composition to Take Five, for the Brubeck Quartet a hitrecord and for Paul a dependable annuity that is still producing considerableincome for his estate. The bassist for the title tune of Desmond's second RCAalbum is Eugene Wright, fellow Brubeckian and shaman of 5/4 time who, in theearly sixties when 5/4 was Sanskrit to most jazz musicians, would hold littlecounting seminars backstage: "1,2,3/1,2," he would instruct thelocals, "that's the only way you can keep track of it until it becomesnatural.” In Take Ten, it is obviously natural to Gene. Desmond is misterioso, Near-Easternand bluesy.

Hall was one ofthe first American musicians to return from

Brazil

with news of bossa nova, that felicitousmelding of samba and harmonies from the French impressionists and jazz. Desmondsaw deeply into its beautiful possibilities. His El Prince is heard in two versions, with drummer Connie Kay in acomplex samba pattern. The second take, which languished in a tape box for twodecades until it was issued on a Mosaic LP collection, is a tad slower and hasforceful Desmond, a buoyant solo by Hall and intriguing bass lines by GeneCherico.

At least onehearing of Alone Together canprofitably be spent concentrating on Connie's snare accents and cymbal work,little kicks of encouragement. Paul, at a fairly good clip, marries relaxationand irresistible swing, especially in his second solo. Jim quotes DizzyGillespie's Anthropology and in the bridge of his second solo chorus has thekind of chord fiesta that makes grown men weep, if they are guitarists.

The structure ofthis song is a normal AABA, but the first two A sections are 14 bars insteadof the usual eight. The composition hangs together so well, the eccentricityis not obvious.

The originallyissued take of Embarcadero has niftycounterpoint in the first 16 bars following the guitar solo. One of severaloriginal Desmond bossa novas, the tune could be named after the Embarcadero inhis native San Francisco or the one in Rio, or both. Antonio Carlos Jobim's gorgeoustheme from the film Black Orpheus brings us to Kay laying down the basic bossa novapattern, Hall and Cherico in rhythmic cahoots and Paul soaring. The tag isplayed as written, then the piece is taken out on a vamp ending.

Nancy sounds as if Paul, like Lester Young,thought of a ballad's lyrics as he played it. Hall's introduction is among hisfinest. Samba de Orfeu is one of themost famous pieces by Antonio Carlos Jobim. Desmond regretted the hype andhoopla surrounding the bossa nova phenomenon, but this marvelous musicinsinuated itself quickly into American jazz. As he hoped, it has become apermanent element.

The One I Love gets a fluid performance with no quotesand no clichés. In his solo, Hall alternates legato and punchy passages togreat effect. Out of Nowhere hasinteresting Desmond modulations in the opening chorus. Hall's comping isexemplary, and Kay negotiates a classic bop ride cymbal pattern throughout.Following Jim's two-chorus solo, he and Desmond trade twos, then Paul and therhythm section do a chorus of stop-time.

CD3

GLAD TO BE UNHAPPY

Desmond's singingquality predominates Glad to be Unhappy,one of the best Rodgers and Hart ballads and one of their most unusual, withits ABA form. Paul's solo is improvisation reducedto essence; there's not a superfluous note. He conjures up a minor felling inthe final bars of his first solo. We get a vamp ending. With echo, yet.

Strolling is whatRoy Eldridge was the first to call the practice of a horn soloist playing withonly bass and drums. Desmond strolls nicely in the second chorus of Poor Butterfly. Hall's solo hasfascinating chords and great intensity. Counterpoint raises its lovely head,and we have the closest thing to a Dixieland ending that you're likely to hearfrom this band.

Mel Torme's Stranger in Town offers a good exampleof why Desmond kept describing Eugene Wright with such adjectives as sturdy,dependable and buoyant. It is also, for alto saxophonists, a case study intonal quality. In A Taste of Honey,Paul offers a small portion of the melody as written, then the piece becomesabstraction, employing that high, pure alto sound so many think of as Desmond.He loved waltz time and he loved minor keys, and this is the best of bothworlds.

For Any Other Time, a Desmond original, Kay's drumming issmooth, the kind of rolling timekeeping a soloist loves to have behind him.Paul's hurdy gurdy lines reflect the joy expressed by Hi-Lili, Hi-Lo in the motion picture Lili. There is no way ofknowing, but, given his admiration of elegant women (fortunately, for him, italso worked the other way), it may be that he was picturing Leslie Caron. It iswell known that his Audrey from themid-'50s was Hepburn. Speaking of women, which Desmond did with respect andsome frequency, he made it a point to—ahem—know the beautiful models RCA hiredto decorate most of his album covers. He once told me that using his picture onthe Take Ten album not only probably frightened away record customers but lefta gap in his social life.

Desmond is pipingand plaintive in Angel Eyes; what anear for subtle harmonic possibilities. Jim goes into one of his billowingchords routines, then Paul floats back in, melodic and, yes, lyrical. By the River Sainte Marie, written in1931, may seem an unlikely jazz vehicle, but it works for Desmond, Hall andcompany in this amiable performance.

Jim Hall's All Across the City was first recordedin a classic session for Mainstream Records which featured him and fellowguitarist Jimmy Raney with tenor saxophonist Zoot Sims. The initial melody isreminiscent of Gershwin's Prelude in F. It might have been made to order forDesmond. Jim spreads composerly chords for Paul when the alto re-entersfollowing the guitar solo, a splendid moment. Connie creates another with hiscymbals suspension before the final statement.

All Through the Night must have been on Paul's mind because itwas included in Brubeck's Cole Porter album, Anything Goes (for Columbia), which was recorded around the same time.Desmond sparkles and soars through Cole Porter's interesting harmonies. Jimindulges himself in one of those billows of chords that are the despair oflesser guitarists. There is a minor stumble at the beginning of Paul's finalappearance on the track, but that was no reason for the performance to stayunder wraps. (It was in hiding in the RCA vaults for more than 20 years.) Onthe tag ending, Jim comps to a fare-thee-well.

CD4

BOSSA ANTIGUA

The BossaAntigua album is another celebration of Desmond's favorite import, nottaking Dewars into account. The title tune and Samba Cepeda (Orlando, the great first bassman?) are the samemelody. Cepeda is issued here for thefirst time on CD. Of the two takes of TheNight Has a Thousand Eyes, the one originally issued is given a less overtbossa nova treatment than the alternate (track 9). The original issued take of O Gato, recorded on August 20,1964, isrelaxed over Kay's sizzling bossa nova rhythm. The alternate take was the solesuccessful effort in a session on July 30,1964. SambaCantina could be the "minor adaptation of a melody indigenous to earlyAmerican coffee houses" slyly referred to by Desmond in his notes for the BossaAntigua LP. Curacao Dolorosa may commemorate a painful experience on an islandin the Netherlands Antilles or ahangover from a liqueur. Its genealogy, as Paul explained it in his notes,involves, more or less, the songHeartaches.

The fetchingmelody of A Ship Without a Sail islovingly played by Desmond. Hall, making the difficult sound easy, turns in oneof his best solos. Kay successfully uses the unconventional device of accentingthe second beat of each bar. Aliancais another of Paul's attractive originals. His The Girl from East 9th Street is highlighted by lovely descendingthirds that begin in the ninth bar.

CD5

EASYLIVING

The EasyLiving album begins with WhenJoanna Loves Me, a little-known love song that is seldom recorded. Thetempo is medium, with Wright playing in two for the first chorus, then blossominginto a gently walking 4/4 for Desmond Hall's beautifully played, slight sad andregretful improvisations. Kay's drumming here is typical of his uniquecombination of lightness and firmness.

Desmond liltsalong through the melody of That OldFeeling, then shifts up for a cruise through three increasingly momentouschoruses. Hall's invitation to dance is concealed in an oblique reference toBenny Goodman. Polka Dots and Moonbeamsis given a faster tempo than is usually applied to this famous ballad,providing sprightly impetus to the solos but draining none of the interest fromJimmy Van Heusen's intriguing chord changes.

Another of VanHeusen's treasured harmonic patterns is contained in Here's That Rainy Day, in which Desmond makes allusions to Man With a Horn, Tadd Dameron's Hot House, I've Got a Right to Sing the Blues and Time After Time. Hall leaves the hiding of clues for tunedetectives to his partner and settles into his work with a section of low-registerreflections that blooms into one of the guitarist's celebrated gardens ofchords.

There wereproblems with takes of two pieces recorded by Desmond, Hall, Wright and Kay on September 9, 1964. They wererejected and had to be redone later in the month. But on Easy Living, everything worked. Desmond follows Hall's quietintroduction with a piping reading of the seductive Ralph Rainger melody, thenprovides a classic example of his legato ballad style—seamless lyricism andthe creation of pure melody.

Percy Heath'sauthority and mastery of the beat married to the assurance and easy ride ofKay's cymbals buoy Paul's delighted exposition of Lerner and Loewe's centerpiecefrom MyFair Lady, I've Grown Accustomedto Her Face. At the risk of pointing out the obvious, please don't missDesmond's modulations in the second chorus or Jim's logic in the development ofideas in his wonderfully linear solo. The same team, virtually the same tempo,and the same relaxation, passion and inventiveness in the art of improvisationare hallmarks (so to speak) of Bewitched. The song is one of the finest worksof Rodgers and Hart, who could be considered the Lerner and Loewe of theirtime. Or is it the other way

In Blues for Fun, the fun begins with achorus of walking bass by Gene Cherico, an unsung hero of the instrument. Amongother things, on this piece Desmond proves that the world's slowest alto playerhad no problem with fast tempos, that he and the blues understood each otherand, in his unaccompanied chorus, that he knew Lester Young inside out. Hall'ssolo and his riff behind Desmond's out-chorus are the work of a masterarchitect of the blues.

Keeping companywith All Through the Night in tapepurgatory was Gene Wright's Rude Old Man,an invaluable addition to the accumulated evidence of the blues prowess ofDesmond and Hall. The first chorus lays down Gene's urgent little riff. Thesecond features Paul and Jim in contrapuntal call-and-response. The balance ofthe piece is devoted to expressing the profundities that the best players canelicit in a thoroughgoing exploration of the limitless possibilities of thegood old basic, unadorned blues in B-flat. Toward the end of his solo, Jimgets, as they have been known to say in parts of Mississippi, "real country." He winds up thefestivities and the album with an altered chord that is real city.

Paul, who alwayshad a sense of occasion, died on Memorial Day, 1977. He was 52 years old.Perhaps not coincidentally, the Brubeck clan gathers each Memorial Day at thebig Connecticut house Desmond called the Wilton Hilton. Dave and Iola are surrounded by their manymusician sons, their daughter, other family members and friends. Always, muchof the conversation will be about Paul, and there will be considerable laughterand head-shaking as puns, witticisms and plays on words are passed around. Eyeswill moisten. Someone will say that Desmond manages to be a part of every day'sthoughts. That someone is likely to be Dave.

"I thinkabout Paul all the time," Brubeck told me. "We were together for somany years that I find myself remembering how Paul would have reacted to musicand seeing our friends through his eyes. And around here we're always saying,"Paul would have loved that," or "I wonder what Paul would havesaid about that." Mort Saul and I got together the other night after aconcert. We swapped Desmond stories for an hour and could have gone on allnight. Paul's always with us. He's a presence."

Once, when we weretalking about something else, Brubeck stopped, looked into the distance for amoment and said, "Boy, I sure miss Paul Desmond."

I couldn't say itbetter.

Boy, I sure missPaul Desmond.

-DOUG RAMSEY

Robert Farnon: An Arranger’s Arranger

2011-12-31T07:00:00.000-08:00

© - Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; allrights reserved.

“[Although a Canadian who spentmost of his professional career in

England

following a posting there during WW II,] Robert Farnon’s influence as an arrangerhas been strongly felt in the

USA

.Quincy Jones, Johnny Mandel, Henry Mancini, Marian Evans, Marty Paich and NealHefti are some of the top writers who aren’t ashamed to admit occasionallyhaving ‘borrowed’ some of his ideas.”

- David Aides, English writer and musiccritic

“… I had never heard anythinglike this. The harmony was exquisite, fresh and adventurous; and if I could notanalyze the voice leading I could certainly hear it. It was startling stuff,and I got my hands on as much of it as I could. Forty and more years later, Istill have the LondonLPs I acquired at that time.”

- Gene Lees, Jazz author and critic

“I wanted to enhance thepopular song. When I do an arrangement of a popular song, I like to put somethought into it, not just dish it up in two choruses. Make it into a piece ofmusic, a composition, tell a story.”

- Robert Farnon

"I look at Bob as acomposer who is an arranger, His mastery of music is almost total. The linesthat he writes! His music is extraordinarily linear. Gil Evans wrote that way.The individual parts are wonderful to play. They make incredible sense.

What really attracted meinitially were the arrangements. All the arrangers love his harmony. But hisharmony is derived from linear writing. The way he would realize these thingsfor orchestra was just extraordinary. And of course we all know about thestring writing. Everybody has commented on it.”

- Jeffrey Sultanof, Jazz composer-arranger,educator

As a young boy, I was a big fan of pirate movies.

My Dad was alwaystaking me to see them at The Strand, The Majestic, The RKO Albee, The Loew’sState and other less, palatial theaters in Providence RI, where I grew up.

My all-timefavorite buccaneer flick was The Crimson Pirate which starred theincredibly acrobatic, Burt Lancaster.

On more than oneoccasion, I almost killed myself trying to duplicate some of the CrimsonPirate’s stunts using the roof tops of three-storied, tenement buildings inplace of the rigging on the three masts of a barkentine.

Another seafaringadventure film that made a indelible impression on me was Captain Horatio Hornblower, R.N. whichstarred Gregory Peck. The movie was set during the Napoleonic Wars of the early19^th century and Peck’s character was loosely based on Lord Nelson,who commanded the British fleet during a number of its epic battles against thenavies of Napoleon and his allies.

But, what struckme most about this film was not the gymnastic gyrations of its hero [Peck wasno Lancaster], but rather, the beauty and grandeur ofthe film’s music.

The film’s scorecontained music that was the aural counterpart of the many breathtakinglybeautiful Technicolor images that made up the film.

The Technicolor Company’smovie film was so densely rich and bright in color that I always wished that Icould put a spoon into it to see what would come out. It was the first time Iever felt that way about a film score, too.

I had no idea whocomposed the music to Captain Horatio Hornblower, R.N. untilmany years later.

Once I learned thefilm’s score was written by Robert Farnon, it seemed that whenever Iencountered his name after that, it was always followed by expressions of deepand abiding admiration.

Gene Lees onceobserved about Farnon:

“The reverence inwhich Farnon is held by arrangers and other musicians, not to mention singers,is unlimited. They have long referred to him as the Governor, or just the Guv,and I heard one arranger say in a radio interview, "He is God."

When someoneunfamiliar with Farnon's music asked Rob McConnell who he was, Rob said, ‘He isthe greatest arranger in the world.’

Andre Previn longago called Bob ‘the world's greatest string writer.’ Andre told me once thatwhen John (then Johnny) Williams was a young studio pianist in Los Angeles, he asked a question about string writing.Andre gave him a Farnon album, telling him to take it home and listen to it.Late that night, Johnny called him back to ask what the hell Farnon was doingat such-and-such point in one of the tunes. Andre said, ‘I don't know, but if youfigure it out, call me back.’”

Johnny Mandel, oneof the most brilliant composers and arrangers jazz has produced, said:

"Most of whatI know is based on having stolen everything I could from Farnon. I'll say thatright off. I've listened to him and tried to approximate what I thought he wasdoing. He made strings sound like they always should have and never did.Everybody wrote them skinny. He knew how to write them so that it could wrenchat you. I'd never heard anybody like him before and I've never heard anybodylike him since. We're all pale imitations of him, those of us who areinfluenced by him."

Another greatadmirer of Robert Farnon’s work was Marion Evans, a highly regarded studioarranger who was particularly admired for his use of strings in albums byvocalists Steve Lawrence, Edie Gorme and Tony Bennett.

Marion wasunapologetic in his admiration [and replication] of Farnon’s approach whoseinfluence he further disseminated as explained in the following excerpt from byGene Lees in his chapter on Farnon from his bookentitled Arranging the Score: Portraits of the Great Arrangers:

“Furtherdisseminating the Farnon influence, Marion founded an informal school for arrangersin his cluttered apartment on West 49th Street between Sixth and Seventh Avenues.

Marion denies that it was ever a school, and in any case he refusedpayment from his students. ‘I'd get drunk and we'd talk about music,’ he said.He imposed two strict disciplines on his students: they had to study thoroughlythe composition and harmony books of Percy Goetschius and the records of BobFarnon. Through that ‘school’ passed Patrick Williams, J.J. Johnson, TorrieZito, Jack Cortner, and Nick Perito, and you can hear the Farnon influence inthe writing of all of them.

Nor was Marion the only arranger to use the Farnon albumsas teaching material. "We all used them for that purpose," [notedcomposer-arranger] Ralph Burns said.”

…

Marion's evaluation of Farnon: "He just simply is the best," hesaid.

‘He's a rarecombination. Every once in a while, by some biological meeting, somecross-fertilization, we produce an Albert Einstein. We produce somebody who hasthe talent, the dedication, the training. Farnon had it all. And it was all inone place.

‘Plus, through nofault of his own, he found himself in an incredible position in London, where he was standing in front of a largeorchestra every day and writing. You do that for a while and you learn. Andthat's doing it the hard way.

‘He had that rarecombination of everything. He is exceptional by every standard.

I think it's notreally kosher to analyze Bob in a highly technical manner. It doesn't begin totouch the depth of his talent. Bob has enormous technique, but his talent farexceeds his technique, and so did Mozart's. And that is precisely what youwant. Anyone can learn as much technique as Bob Farnon has by going to musicschool. But they don't have that extra edge.

‘Mozart didn'twrite masterpieces all the time. He sat down and kept writing and let it flow.Bob has a lot of that in him. He's fast. He is one of the fastest writers I'veever known. He just does it, and that's it. He doesn't labor over it. When it'sgood, it's fantastic.’” [excerpts from pp. 63-64]

I guess there wasa reason why I was so impressed with Robert Farnon’s music the first time Iever heard it.

And it looks likeI was in good company.

To give you asampling of what’s on offer with Robert Farnon, here is an audio track of hisbeautifully orchestra theme from the movie Laura followed by an audio track ofthe music that first introduced me to his music: Lady Barbara’s Theme from Horatio Hornblower, R.N.

07 Lauraby dadocerra

LadyBarbara Theme by dadocerra

Manny Albam: A Jazz Composer-Arranger Who Is “Everybody’s Business”

2011-12-29T07:00:00.000-08:00

© - Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; allrights reserved.

Manny Albam hasbeen “flying under the radar screen” for far too long.

Lack of publicawareness is not an unusual situation for a talented Jazz artist, but it does seem a shame that Manny's work isn't more fully appreciated.

Fortunately for those yet to discover the sterling quality of Manny's music, an Internet searchdid turn up the fact that much of it is available in a digitalformat.

A few years ago, Gambit Records, a European-based reissuer ofmany classic Jazz recordings, put out one of his classic compositions on a CD entitled Manny Albam: The Blues isEverybody’s Business.”

The title refersto Manny’s four-part suite which was issued as a Coral LP in 1957.

We came across theCD recently and it contained the following overview of the early years ofManny’s career and some background on the suite.

You may want toplan on spending a bit of time on the JazzProfiles blog today as we have atreat in store for you in the form of audio tracks of all four movements from MannyAlbam: The Blues is Everybody’s Business” which you locate at the endof this piece.

“During a careerthat spanned seven decades, composer and arranger Manny Albam collaborated witha who's who of jazz greats including Count Basie, Dizzy Gillespie, and StanGetz. He also developed successive generations of new talent as co-founder andmusical director of the BMI Jazz Composers Workshop.

Albam was born June 24, 1922. Hisparents were en route from their native

Russia

to their new home in New York City, and his mother went into labor whiletheir ship was outside of the

Dominican Republic

port of Samana.

At the age ofseven Albam discovered jazz after hearing a Bix Beiderbecke record, and soonafter began playing the alto saxophone; at 16 he dropped out of schoolfollowing an invitation to join Muggsy Spanier's Dixieland combo, and laterplayed with Georgie Auld, an experience that also afforded Albam his first shotat arranging under the tutelage of band mate Budd Johnson. Albam next giggedbehind Charlie Barnet, from there signing on with Charlie Spivak. During histwo years with Spivak, his arranging skills flourished, and he generated anaverage of two arrangements per week.

After serving inthe U.S. Army during World War II, Albam returned to the Barnet stable, and ashis interest in writing and arranging grew, he effectively retired fromperforming in 1950, a decision that coincided with the last gasps of the bigband era.

Albam quicklyemerged as a sought-after freelancer, composing and arranging material for manyof the bop era's brightest talents. His tight, brisk arrangements favoredsubtlety over flash, while his writing exhibited a wry sense of humor. Albameventually signed to headline his own LPs for labels including Mercury, RCAVictor, and Dot, bringing together musicians including Phil Woods, Al Cohn, andBob Brookmeyer for acclaimed easy listening efforts including TheBlues Is Everybody's Business and The Drum Suite.

His 1957 jazzarrangement of Leonard Bernstein's score to West Side Story soimpressed Bernstein that the maestro invited Albam to write for the New YorkPhilharmonic. The offer prompted Albam to study classical composition underTibor Serly, later yielding such works as the luminous "Concerto forTrombone and Strings." Albam also wrote for feature films, television, andeven advertising jingles, and in 1964 signed on as musical director for SonnyLester's fledgling Solid State label, which two years later issued his jazzsuite The Soul of the City.

By that time Albamwas increasingly channeling his energies into teaching, however. After stintswith the Eastman School of Music, Glassboro State College, and the ManhattanSchool of Music, in 1988 he co-founded the BMI Jazz Composers Workshop, assuming thetitle of musical director from Brookmeyer three years later. Albam died ofcancer on October 2, 2001.

Written during thesummer of 1957, Manny Albam's ambitious jazz suite The Blues Is Everybody's Businessattempts to tell a story in instrumental form. It represents a visit to thefictional Bluestown, with first trumpeter Nick Travis and later Ernie Royalserving as the musical guides. Art Farmer's Harmon-muted trumpet serves as thealter ego to Travis (heard with a cup mute), while Phil Woods' exuberant altosax and Bob Brookmeyer's sassy valve trombone stand out as the most impressivesoloists on the album. The list of all-stars assembled for this project isconsiderable, also including Al Cohn, Gene Quill, Milt Hinton, and Eddie Costa,to name just a few. In the two middle movements strings are added to augmentthe orchestra, though Albam's intelligent score keep them from bogging down themusic. Nat Hentoff s detailed liner notes are an added bonus. Though this type ofcomposition may have fallen out of fashion, fans of progressive big bandsshould look for this long out of print Coral LP, as the music is still worthhearing.”

01The Blues Is Everybody's Buisness, Pt.1 by dadocerra

02The Blues Is Everybody's Buisness, Pt.2 by dadocerra

03The Blues Is Everybody's Buisness, Pt.3 by dadocerra

04The Blues Is Everybody's Buisness, Pt.4 by dadocerra

Manny Albam 1922-2001: A Tribute

2011-12-27T14:08:00.000-08:00

There's more about Manny coming your way in about a day or two. In the meantime, I thought you might enjoy listening to some of his work on the following video which features an excerpt from his Jazz Greats of Our Time, Vol. 2.

Composer-arranger Manny Albam's "Interwoven" as performed by Conte Candoli, Harry "Sweets" Edison [tp], Stu Williamson [vtb], Herb Geller and Charlie Mariano [as], Bill Holman and Richie Kamuca [ts], Lou Levy [p], Red Mitchell [b], Shelly Manne [d].

Two for Bill Evans

2011-12-26T07:00:00.000-08:00

© - Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; allrights reserved.

“… I wasn’t striving to be anidentifiable stylist – I was really only striving to make music and to put ittogether in some way of my own.”

Bill Evans, Jazz pianist

The Jazz writer, Stephanie Stein, who included this quotation by Billin her insert notes to composer-arranger Don Sebesky’s I Remember Bill: A Tribute toBill Evans [RCA Victor 09026 68929-2; recorded in June, July, August,1997], goes on to write:

“Nonetheless, theBill Evans sound has been a persistent force in modern jazz since word aboutEvans — quiet and introspective, never aself-promoter — started humming through the New York jazz scene during the mid-1950s. Evansfollowed in the wake of Bud Powell, the pianist who'd forged a dazzling hornlikeapproach to bebop piano. The young Evans had an awesome grasp of the intricatelanguage of bop and its harmonic possibilities. He had the ability to express,with dazzling clarity, a musical whole along with a range of subtleties.

And he developed asound on the piano — each note rounded from within, his playing fiery at times,uniquely understated at others — that was as full of warmth and individualityas that of Erroll Garner or Arthur Rubinstein. The cumulative effect? An upturningof every musical idea or chord voicing or standard song into something neverquite heard before. Evans' music flowed from his profound and analyticintelligence. His playing was often tinged with a deep melancholy, and was alwaysilluminated with a rare beauty.” [paragraphing modified]

Highly acclaimedarranger Don Sebesky was at work on the arrangements for his tribute album toBill for almost five years during which he developed orchestrations thattransformed Bill’s “subtle deliberations and piano voicings” for a Jazzorchestra made up of fourteen brass and woodwinds and seventeen strings.

In his introductorynotes to the recording, Don wrote:

“Rarely does a daygo by without my feeling the influence of Bill Evans. Bill didn't just strivefor perfection. He, like all true geniuses, was incapable of putting forth lessthan his very best: the best note, the truest chord, the richest voicing,creating a balance between head and heart which characterizes his music andmakes it so fresh and interesting every time we listen. He set a standard ofexcellence to which we all aspire, and by which we all measure ourselves, andour work. In this album, I pay tribute to him in gratitude for his havingenriched us all with his remarkable gift. …

We were fortunateto have been able to reach out all over the world to musicians who played andrecorded with Bill over the years. Two of his rhythm sections, Eddie Gomez withMarty Morell and Marc Johnson with Joe LaBarbera provide the support for thebrass and string ensembles which surround them. Alumni Lee Konitz, BobBrookmeyer, Toots Thielemans, and Tom Harrell (who was on Evans' lastrecording) all demonstrate their own remarkable musicianship here, as do LarryCoryell, Joe Lovano, Eddie Daniels, Hubert Laws, Dave Samuels, John Pizzarelli, Jeanie Brysonand New York Voices. My heartfelt thanks to them all for contributing theirartistry to this project.”

Here is an audiotrack from the I Remember Bill: A Tribute to Bill Evans that features Don orchestration ofBill’s solo piano composition PeacePiece. Flutist Hubert Laws and vibraphonist Dave Samuels are the soloists.

06 PeacePiece by dadocerra

Bill’s influenceon other musicians knew no bounds as a few years earlier in 1993, guitaristJohn McLaughlin, recorded his own tribute to Bill Evans and his music with hisCD – TimeRemembered: John McLaughlin Plays Bill Evans [Verve 314 519 861-2].

If you everwondered what Bill’s music would sound like as transcribed for guitar, you needlook no farther than this recording as John transcribed it for himself as thelead, acoustic guitarist accompanied by a quartet of acoustic guitarists and anacoustic bass guitar!

John explains howand why the project came about in these background notes to the CD[paragraphing modified] after which you will find a video tribute to Johnfeaturing his arrangement of Bill’s WeWill Meet Again as recorded on Time Remembered: John McLaughlin Plays BillEvans.

© - John McLaughlin, copyright protected; allrights reserved.

“I can recallquite vividly the very first time I heard Bill Evans play. I was aboutseventeen years old and had already been subjugated by Miles Davis with hisrecord "Milestones." His following record was the now"classic" record, "Kind of Blue." Naturally I bought thisrecord for Miles, but, was astonished to hear the pianist Bill Evans, whoseemed to me to have a kind of empathic communication with Miles and his way ofplaying. Among the many qualities Miles had, poignancy was one of his mosteloquent; Bill understood this exceptionally well, and had the capability ofencouraging this while accompanying Miles. Bill played many different kinds ofharmonies that, though I couldn't understand them at all, were so"right." I spent many hours listening to that recording and, I canadd, listen regularly to now.

A couple of yearslater I heard his first trio record with Scott LaFaro and Paul Motian. This wasa turning point in my life. The next six months were spent listening almostexclusively to this record, and trying to analyze it while marveling at theinteraction between the three players. It was on this record that I heardBill's compositions for the first time and, although incapable of playing them,I did my best to try to understand his harmonic and rhythmic conceptions whichwere so new to me. It was only much later, on having discovered the music ofRavel, Debussy, and Satie, that I began to understand the origins o/ Bill'sharmonic viewpoint.

Time passed and Iremained as I remain to this day one of his most ardent fans. By the time Itook up residence in the

USA

in the late sixties, I had already had theopportunity to see Bill play in person several times at the Ronnie Scott's clubin London, which was for me just marvelous. In the

USA

, I lived not too far from the VillageVanguard, a club in Greenwich Village that hashosted the greatest jazz musicians of our epoch. I would go regularly to seeBill play there and I recall one particular night when Bill's trio came onstage to play the second set, Bill began an introduction to Nardis and he went into what I can onlycall a state of grace. He played some of the most beautiful music I have everhad the privilege to witness. I was there with saxophonist Dave Liebman, and we were both in a state oftotal astonishment.

The idea ofrecording Bill's music exclusively with guitars dates back at least eleven ortwelve years. The reason behind the exclusivity of guitars is probably due tothe fact that to me, Bill was a thorough romantic. The acoustic guitar is,without doubt, one of the most romantic instruments, and I felt that I could dojustice to his music in this way. At the beginning of 1992, I decided that thetime had come and began work on the selection of Bill's compositions and theconception of how to realize this already long dream of recording his music inthis way. I decided to employ six guitars, five acoustic and one acoustic bassguitar. This proved to be an arduous task of even greater proportions that Ihad imagined.

To help me in thiswork I asked for the help of my own student, Van Maresz, himself a compositiongraduate of the Julliard school in New York, who also plays bass guitar on thisrecording. Bill himself was a composition major at the Manhattan School ofMusic, and in the analysis of his works we discovered that it was essential tokeep the integrity of his very subtle counterpoint, both rhythmically andmelodically.

In a sense thiswork was almost "classical," and to solve this problem, I had thegood fortune to meet a classical guitar quartet The Aighetta Quartet in my partof the world. Prior to my meeting them, they were not familiar with Bill'smusic, but subsequently became enamoured with the compositions and devotedhundreds of hours to mastering the parts and particularly the task of adaptingtheir style of music.

There remained,however, the thorny problem of improvisation. For all his classical training,Bill was a jazz musician and a supreme improviser, and in the majority of hisrecorded works, improvisation has equal importance with his compositions.

Naturally I neededto include this element in my work and whereas in a normal jazz situation, thegroup plays the head and then improvise around the changes, this could notapply to this project. To solve this problem, I took the artistic liberty ofwriting new music for the five other musicians upon which I would improvise.This also proved to be quite demanding.

If you listencarefully to Bill's records, after the composition and the improvisationbegins, there is always a forward movement, a kind of further development inthe piece. This is what I have done in this recording. What was quite trickywas to have Bill's music lead into mine in the most natural way possible whileat the same time giving this forward movement and allowing me to improvise,while keeping the essential characteristics of his piece. And of course, thereverse was necessary, to leave my music and improvisation and flow naturallyback into Bill's tune for the ending.

Altogether thisrecord was a real labor of love and one that I am very happy to have made.Firstly for Bill and his music which has enriched my life, secondly for theguitar, and the combination of these two elements.

I give myheartfelt thanks to Francois Szonyi, Pascal Rabatti, Alexandre Del Fa andPhilippe Loli of the Aighetta Quartet, to Van Maresz for his great work in thepreparation of the scores, to Abraham Wechter for my wonderful instrument, JimD'Addario for his strings, and most profoundly of all, to Bill Evans.”

John McLaughlin

June 10, 1993

Bernie Senensky – Jazz Pianist

2011-12-24T07:00:00.000-08:00

© - Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; allrights reserved.

“I could just sitand listen to Bernie Senensky play all day.”

Like the late BillEvans, so could I.

Bernie was also afavorite of the late alto saxophonist, Art Pepper.

According to HalHill, a Canadian broadcaster who booked Art into Bourbon Street in Toronto, CA and paired him when Bernie on piano for aweek-long gig:

“I have many happy memories of being askedto pick a rhythm section for Art Pepper for an engagement at the now defunctnight club 'Bourbon Street'in Toronto.You can imagine Art's delight at having such an accomplished pianist to workwith, someone who molded his ideas so well with Art's music. That was a week ofsheer enjoyment, night after night, set after set.

When Art went on to New York at the end of the gig he phoned me to seeif I could get Bernie to join him. Bernie, unfortunately, was not availabledue in part to his loyalty to a group he had started to work with on a regularbasis in Toronto.Those sessions on Contemporary Records, LiveAt The Village Vanguard (1972) could have been with Bernie as pianist insteadof George Cables.”

Bernie’s stylejust sparkles with a lightness and playfulness that makes his solos so easy andfun to listen to. You don’t have to reach for anything; it’s there.

He composes manyof the tunes he records, but here again, as is the case with Lolito’s Theme which forms the audiotrack for the video feature to Bernie which you can locate at the end of thispiece, his music is easily accessible.

Nothing tortuouslyintroverted, but rather, music that becomes the basis for straightforward andmelodious solo interpretation and a certain gentleness of expression in thetunes he writes as ballads. To paraphraseHal Hill, each tune he writes “… has a richness of detail that allows for thefact that we hear things differently.”

Many of Bernie’srecordings are available in digital formats as CO’s and Mp3 downloads.

Here are somebackground notes about Bernie’s considerable career in the World of Jazz.

“BERNARD (BERNIE)SENENSKY (pianist, composer) was born December 31, 1944 in Winnipeg, Manitoba,

Canada

. Recognized as one of Canada’s premierjazz artists and one of the foremost jazz accompanists in the world, Senensky’splaying and his music have been featured in jazz festivals internationally.Since 1975, he has released eight albums, two of which were nominated for JunoAwards.

Senensky beganplaying piano at the age of eight, settling into his interest in jazz when hewas 14, studying with Winnipeg jazz eminence Bob Erlendson. He began sitting in with localWinnipeg groups which included guitarist LennyBreau and bassist Dave Young, eventually taking his considerable talent to Edmonton.

His work leading ahouse band with the Holiday Inn Hotel chain eventually took him to Torontowhere he took up residence in 1968, quickly establishing himself as anaccompanist playing for and with a wide variety of visiting musicians includingPepper Adams, Chet Baker, Ed Bickert, Terence Blanchard, Ruby Braff, RandyBrecker, Al Cohn, George Coleman, Buddy DeFranco, Herb Ellis, Art Farmer, SonnyGreenwich, Slide Hampton, Herbie Mann, Frank Morgan, Joe Pass, Art Pepper,Bucky Pizzarelli, Dizzy Reese, Red Rodney, Jack Sheldon, Zoot Sims, SonnyStitt, Lew Tabackin, Clark Terry, Kenny Wheeler, Joe Williams, and Phil Woods.

He has recordedwith dozens of the biggest names in the business, played in piano duets withOscar Peterson and Marian McPartland, and performed with major name bands andensembles including Art Blakey and The Jazz Messengers, Rob McConnell’s BossBrass, the Maynard Ferguson Orchestra, the Elvin Jones Quartet, and the HerbieMann/Al Grey All-Star Septet.

He formed his owntrio in the early ‘70s, and began occupying the piano chair in The Moe KoffmanQuintet in 1979 when the band was the number one small jazz combo in

Canada

. He had played with Moe on occasion priorto that and “was always impressed with his utter musicality and his completemastery of the flute, alto, and soprano saxophones”. As part of The Moe KoffmanQuintet, Senensky ultimately had the opportunity to contribute many of his owncompositions to the band’s repertoire for more than 20 years, and continues tokeep the memory and the music of Moe Koffman alive today as leader of hisTribute to Moe Koffman Band."

Carmen McRae – A Grande Dame of Jazz

2011-12-22T07:00:00.000-08:00

© - Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; allrights reserved.

“There's always a tigerishfeel to her best vocals - no woman has ever sung in the Jazz idiom with quitesuch beguiling surliness as McRae.”

- Richard Cook & Brian Morton, ThePenguin Guide to Jazz on CD, 6^th Ed.

“Carmen McRae is the truegrande dame of jazz. Like so many of the best women Jazz singers, including herfriends Shirley Horn and the late Sarah Vaughan, Carmen is an accomplishedpianist. This means she not only has a feeling for harmony, she has trueknowledge of it. Carmen always knows exactly what she is doing.

The term ‘Jazz singer’ is adubious one, and Sarah Vaughan objected to it. It means many things to manypeople, including merely a style that entails a certain indefinable jazzfeeling. If it means anything specific, it surely denotes someone who canimprovise with the voice. In a well-made song, the intervals of the music beara significant relationship to the natural inflections of the words, and toalter the melody compromises the meaning and diminishes the dramatic effect ofthe song as a whole. Unfortunately, that is exactly what all too many ‘Jazzsingers’ do. Carmen is a spectacular exception. When she changes the melodic intervals,she somehow, mysteriously, deepens the song, increasing the impact of thewords.”

- Gene Lees, Jazz writer and critic

“No singer since [Billie] Holidayhad been more adept at singing behind the beat than McRae, or more skilled atshifting from an intimate conversational delivery to hard-edgedreconfigurations of melody and lyric.”

- Ted Gioia, A History of Jazz

“No singer was morestubbornly verbal than Carmen McRae, who inflected words as though she weregiving them a tongue-lashing. McRae was famously outspoken and her songs had asimilarly tart appeal. You didn't necessarily turn to her for profane insightinto the songwriter's art, but you occasionally got it anyway. This isespecially true of the numerous [Billie] Holidaytunes she covered.

If Holidaymade the word ‘love’ shimmer with unrequited longing, McRae cast it in causticlanguor. Consider her 1965 live recording of "No More": Holidaysang the line, ‘you ain't gonna bother me no more no how,’ as if trying to keyup her resolve; McRae phrased those words as if she had a gun in her purse.

- Gary Giddins, Visions of Jazz [paragraphingmodified]

There was notingquite like hearing Carmen McRae sing, especially in-person.

To my ears, shewas the epitome of a song stylist, but watching her style a song was acaptivating and beguiling experience. I told her once that she was my “witchywoman,” to which she laughingly replied: “Be careful, or I’ll put a spell onyou.”

Of course, sheknew. She already had.

And it wasn’t onlyme. Carmen had a way of enchanting anyone who ever caught her in performance.

The reason wassimple. She loved singing Jazz and she was good at it. She knew it, themusicians who backed her knew it and we knew it. And if you were in her presence while shedoing her thing, you knew that you were in for the thrill of your life.

What Carmen servedup during her performances was akin to a musical feast: phrasing lyrics withmeaning and understanding; picking tempos that were always just right;scatting – just enough – while employing the cleverest of harmonies; and justwhen you thought that you didn’t have room for dessert, she’d offered up astomping version of “I Cried for You” or “Three Little Words” and leave youscreaming for more.

I always sensed agreat sadness in Carmen, too. The weightiness and gravity with which shehandled certain ballads bespoke of a life with its share of disappointments.

She was nobody’sfool, but few of us go through life without some emotional bumps and bruisesand it appeared to me that Carmen had had her share of these, including somepersonal relationships that didn’t work out.

It was easy tocatch the sense of this if you listened closely to her banter between tunes orobserved her knowing facial or lyrical expressions when she sang romanticballads.

Carmen brought theJazz musician’s life to her music, alife which was never an easy one, even during the best of times.

I loved seeing herwork at a club whether it was at Sugar Hill in San Francisco, or P.J.’s on the Sunset Strip in Hollywood or at Donte’s Jazz Club in North Hollywood, CA.

Can you imagine a rhythmsection made up of Joe Pass on guitar, Jimmy Rowles on piano, ChuckDomanico on bass and Chuck Flores on drums backing Carmen at an intimate Jazzclub located only a 10-minute drive from my home?

Welcome to myworld in 1972 when Carmen worked a week at Donte’s.

The room wasloaded with musicians during her appearance and Carmen was always graciousabout visiting with as many of them as possible during the breaks between sets.

With her signature– “Hey baby, what’s happening?” – she come up to your table and there would behugs and giggles all around.

She was a queenwho deserved to be an empress. Those of us who understood this treated herroyally and gave her the respect that she merited.

In return, shebestowed upon us a treasure chest filled with rendition after rendition ofgreat vocal Jazz.

Thankfully, muchof her gift has been saved on recordings.

While I’m gratefulfor the recorded legacy of her music, there was nothing quite like watching herweave her special charms into a song while sitting three feet away from her ina Jazz club.

When you werearound Carmen, "baby," it was always “happening.”

We put togetherthe following video tribute to her with the help of the ace graphics team atCerraJazz LTD. Itfeatures Carmen singing Let There Be Loveaccompanied by Norman Simmons on piano, Victor Sproles on bass and StuMartin on drums.

Future Features on Jazz Profiles

2011-12-21T07:00:00.000-08:00

The editorial staff at JazzProfiles is moving as quickly as it can to bring you more about the future features described in the sidebar and asks you to bear with us in this regard as the holidays are upon us.

Thank you for your patience.

Happy Holidays.

Jazz On A Summer's Day - Jimmy Giuffre Three feat. Bob Brookmeyer

2011-12-20T09:10:00.000-08:00

Bob Brookmeyer: A Musician of Humor, Honesty and Humility

2011-12-19T07:00:00.000-08:00

“Almost the first sounds tobe heard on the classic Jazz on a Summer'sDay soundtrack are the mellow tones of Bob Brookmeyer's valve tromboneinterweaving with Jimmy Giuffre's clarinet on The Train And The River. It's a curiously formal sound, almostacademic, and initially difficult to place. Valve trombone has a more clipped,drier sound than the slide variety, and Brookmeyer is probably its leadingexponent, though Maynard Ferguson, Stu Williamson and Bob Enevoldsen have allmade effective use of it.”

- Richard Cook & Brian Morton, ThePenguin Guide to Jazz on CD, 6^th Ed.

“Getting to the core couldwell be the Brookmeyer credo. As a jazz soloist and writer, Bob wastes littleenergy on unnecessary curlicues and affected sounds for the sake of anartificial eloquence... This is a signpost of basic musical honesty. At thesame time, Bob is dedicated to emotion and the investigation of every nuancebeneath the surface of a selection. The result of this approach is a forcefulpersonalized transmission of the emotional content of the musical material tothe listening audience...”

- Burt Korall, Jazz writer and critic

“I've loved Bob'scompositions and arrangements and his playing since the moment I first heardhis music in the '70s. It turned my life around. Bob became awonderful teacher, mentor and dear friend. And he was enormously generousto those lucky enough to be his friend.”

- Maria Schneider, Jazz composer-arranger

“Bob has added an amazingamount to Jazz. He was in the thick of the New York scene in the 50s and 60s and even hung outat "The Loft." To the average listener he probably is not that we'llknown. But to me he'll remain one of those fundamental sounds [of Jazz].”

- Dr. Ken Koenig, Jazz musician

“Wherever he goes Bob's boundto make further contributions and stir up emotions with his "thinkingdifferently.’”

- Brian Hope, Jazz Fan

“Bob studied at the KansasCity Conservatory and originally played piano; he took up the valve trombonewhen he was twenty-three, and almost immediately became a major figure in jazz.

Most of Bob's career has beenin New York,working with almost every major jazzman there, but most significantly ClarkTerry, with whom he co-led a quintet. His association with Mulligan continued,and when Mulligan formed his concert band, Brookmeyer played in it along withZoot Sims, Bill Crow,Mel Lewis, and Clark Terry, and did a great deal of its writing. The band'shaunting arrangement of Django Reinhardt's "Manoir de mes reves" isBob's.

Bob is a classic illustrationof the dictum that jazzmen tend to play pretty much as they speak, which isperhaps inevitable in music that is so extensively improvisatory. He is low-keyand quietly ironic in speech, and he plays that way.”

- Gene Lees

Bob Brookmeyer wasborn on December 19, 1929. He died on December 16, 2011, three daysbefore what would have been his 82^nd birthday.

I will miss hismagnificent musicianship, both as an instrumentalist, he played both valvetrombone and piano, and as a composer-arranger.

It seems that Bobhas been a part of my Jazz scene ever since I can remember. Although hereplaced trumpeter Chet Baker with Gerry Mulligan’s quartet in 1953, I firstheard him a few years later on the Emarcy recordings made by Gerry’s sextet.

What a group:Gerry on baritone sax, Bob on valve trombone, joined on the “front line” bytrumpeter Jon Eardley and tenor saxophonist Zoot Sims, with bassist Bill Crow and drummer Dave Bailey cooking along in the rhythmsection.

What struck memost about Bob’s playing was its humor. Lighthearted and unexpected phrasesjust flowed in and out of his solos and he always seemed to swing, effortlessly.

Bob had fun withthe music while not taking himself too seriously. I mean, anyone who names anoriginal composition “Jive Hoot” must certainly smile a lot.

Bob knew what hewas doing musically, but he never put on any airs about it.

He had greatreverence and respect for those who came before him in the Jazz tradition andhe even made it a point to “revisit” some of what he referred to as Jazz“traditionalism” in a few of the earliest recordings that he made as a leader.

Another of Bob’svirtues was his honesty and his directness. You never had to guess what he wasthinking on subjects that were near-and-dear to his heart. In interview afterinterview, reading Bob’s stated opinions was akin to being “hit” by bothbarrels of a shotgun loaded with the truth-according-to-Brookmeyer.

If as LouisArmstrong once said, “Jazz is Who You Are,” then you always knew where Bobstood. Musically, his playing and his compositions radiated with candor andclarity; his big band arrangements, in particular, just sparkled with lucidityand precision. I would imagine that no one performing Bob’s music was ever indoubt as to what he wanted you to play.

Nothing wasimplied or suggested in his writing; he told you what he wanted you to play.For better or for worse, Bob just put it out there. No wonder he remained suchclose friends with Gerry Mulligan throughout his life.

As described abovein the introductory quotation by Gene Lees, Bob was to work with many of the Jazz greats on the WestCoast Jazz scene of the 1950’s and both the New York Jazz and studio worlds ofthe 1960’s. He returned to California in the 1970’s primarily to work in movieand television composing and did some small group gigging at Jazz festivals andconcerts in the

USA

and abroad throughout the 1980’s.

Upon his return toNew York in the 1980’s, Bob would also become “thede facto musical director for the orchestra that Mel Lewis led following thedeath of Thad Jones.”

In an interview hegave to Scott Yanow, Bob said: “Before my stay in California [1968-1978], I considered myself a playerfirst and a writer second. … In addition to Gerry Mulligan’s writing, my bigband arranging was inspired by Bill Finegan, Ralph Burns, Al Cohn, EddieSauter, Gil Evans, Bill Holman and George Russell.”

From 1991 up untilhis death, Bob spent much of his time in Northern Europe exploring new approaches to composing,arranging and orchestrating for some of the resident, larger orchestras in Holland and

Germany

, including his own New Art Orchestra whichwas based primarily in Cologne,

Germany

You can hear someof Bob’s exquisite arranging skills on the audio track to the following videotribute to him which was developed with the assistance of the crackerjackgraphics team at CerraJazz LTD.

The audio track isentitled Jig. It is the firstmovement from Bob’s 3-part Celebration Suite which waspremiered by the New Art Orchestra in 1994 in Lubeck,

Germany

. Baritone saxophonist Gerry Mulligan wasthe featured soloist then; Scott Robinson does the honors on baritone sax on thisversion.

We hope this all-too-briefremembrance will serve in some small measure as our Celebration of the musical life of Bob Brookmeyer.

Jeremy Steig – Flute Fever

2011-12-17T07:00:00.000-08:00

“It is extremely difficult toattempt a description of Jeremy's abilities. Just a bit of listening to himplay will show you, I think, his virtuosity as well as the remarkableinnovations he has made in the expressive capabilities of the flute.

These breakthroughs comeabout as a result of a player's compulsion to express something which washeretofore not considered part of the technical and emotional spectrum of hisinstrument. Thus, especially through the medium of jazz, instrumentalexpressive potential has been continually expanded.

Jeremy's playing also has aside of intensity that occasionally might defy belief. I played flute andpiccolo for fourteen years and therefore feel a justification for my highestimation of Jeremy's exceptional scope as a flutist.

Certainly one can be surethat he plays his true instrument and perhaps his example exemplifies thedifference between playing one's primary instrument as opposed to doubling fromone's primary instrument.”

- Bill Evans, Jazz pianist

A friend of thesepages who lives in New Zealand recently commented on the number of excellentJazz recordings from the halcyon days of the music that have never made it toCD.

The context forthis observation was the repair of some equipment which allowed him to onceagain play LP’s … aka … “vinyl.”

I knew exactlywhat he meant as at the time of his message, I was working on this review of onesuch album – Jeremy Steig’s Flute Fever featuring Denny Zeitlin onPiano” [Columbia CS 8936].

Actually, I got toJeremy through the pianist Denny Zeitlin who, under the auspices of thelegendary producer John Hammond, had recorded both his Carnival and Cathexistrio albums for Columbia Records around the same time as his date withJeremy in the mid-1960s. [As an aside, neither of these early Columbia LPs byDenny had made it to the digital world until they were recently reissued by Michael Cuscuna’s team at Mosaic Records as part of its 3-CD Mosaic Select series.]

I doubt that therewas any coincidence involved as producer Hammond always had a knack forpairing-up musicians who performed well together dating back to hisintroduction of vibraphonist Lionel Hampton to clarinetist Benny Goodman in themid-1930’s which created the classic Benny Goodman Quartet with pianist TeddyWilson and drummer Gene Krupa.

Another factorthat brought Jeremy and Denny’s Flute Fever to mind was my desire todevelop a video tribute to Jazz flute players.

I’ve made previousvideos for my dadocerra YouTube channel celebrating “the art of …” playingother instruments in a Jazz format, but I hadn’t gotten around to developingone celebrating Jazz Flute players, as yet.

While searching foran audio track to accompany my usual slideshow approach to such videos, Iremembered how much I had enjoyed Flute Fever when it was first issuedand went searching for it in a digital format.

Sadly, noneexisted.

In addition to thegreat music on the album, upon rediscovering my LP version of it, I waspleasantly surprised to find that the liner notes for the album were written byWillis Conover.

I think thatWillis did more for the advancement and understanding of Jazz than any, otherindividual through his worldwide Voice of America radio broadcast. Willis wasalso the Master of Ceremonies for the Newport Jazz Festival during the earlyyears of its existence. He died in 1996.

I thought it wouldbe great to remember Willis on the JazzProfiles blog with a reprintingof his writings about Flute Fever featuring Denny Zeitlin onPiano” [Columbia CS 8936].

Following Willis’annotations, you’ll find a video tribute to Jazz flutists with Jeremy Steig’srendition of What Is This Thing CalledLove, on which he and pianist Denny Zeitlin are joined by Ben Tucker onbass and Ben Riley on drums.

“Kookiness is inthe eye of the beholder.

You can fit yourown flaws into a kind of harmony, so they don't bug you anymore but seem properparts of the pattern. Toward your own kookiness you can direct a kindly blindspot, as the arsenic-taker gradually doses himself to immunity.

Charity, then,toward kookiness in others. It's a side-effect of the fierce determination tobe one's self; and. while flute players often seem to have a corner on it. allartists are kooks, seen against the norm. The norm you can see in anytelevision situation-"comedy" series, also in the commercials, outthere by the lake in the woods with the girl smoking menthol. God forbid youshould look Mediterranean. The kooks wind up in jails and rest homesand history books, on soap boxes and gallery walls and guillotines andphonograph records.

Ladies andgentlemen: Jeremy Steig. Little young man with no tie, no job. a broken head, asubtone voice and a furious flute. He's been playing flute 8 or 9 years, sincehe was 12. and playing jazz since 15. Nothing steady; one-nighters from time totime. He had a Sunday group for a while with Paul Bley and Gary Peacock, hasbeen invited to sit in by Jim Hall, Teddy Kotick. Tal Farlow and Joe Roland,and dis-invited by Herbie Mann. As Jeremy says. "Usually in liner notesthey write all about a guy's history. I don't have a history."

A year ago, Jeremycracked up a motor bike and paralyzed his face. Unable to play, he started todraw, even planned to become a muralist. (All the Steigs are artists of onesort or another. The picture on the front cover is by Jeremy.) An operationleft one side of his face still partly paralyzed. He wasn't supposed to playagain.

"I took aweek to decide whether to be a musician again or not. It was a tortured week.After all, I could make a living and a satisfaction at art."

He decided forflute. To permit the paralyzed side of his mouth to blow air into the flute, hecut himself a special blinder-like mouthpiece to insert in his cheek when heplays. He can't play without it.

Not playing, he iswary, almost lost. Playing (or drawing), he is bold, wildly humorous, franticas a bird and apparently awful mad at someone. Musicians playing "angry"often suggest they're playing this way because anger is "in" andMalcolm may be watching; they'll be nice folks when they stop. With Jeremy, Idon't know.

His anger soundsreal, here. Maybe he was mad at John Hammond. That's possible; I know the feeling.Actually, Jeremy has what always interests John: emotion! His fluting matchesLionel Hampton's vibesing in its mix of near hysteria and high musicianship. Heknows it, too.

"I have adifferent way of blowing. The way I attack the notes, the way I join one noteto another, is much more clean than anyone I've ever heard. Not choppy."All right, he's bragging you think, so you're prepared to dislike him. Wait aminute. He's simply speaking as honestly as he plays. Besides, he's answeringblunt questions.

There's more.

"I'm notDizzy Gillespie and I know it. But I have a contribution. If you want to hearthat kind of music you've got to come to me."

The contribution?

"I play Jazzon the flute. The easy thing to do is put vibes and guitar with it and playpretty. This is wrong. The flute is a strong instrument. It has more guts thanalmost any other instrument. It shouldn't be played with a thin sound, and italmost always is, because it's always the second horn for somesax-player."

All this, almostinaudibly. Then:

"There arelots of guys I respect so much I can't even talk to them. Thelonious Monk.Miles Davis, once, I couldn't even come up to talk to."

In most of hisperformances here. Jeremy sings a haranguing vocal unison with his flute-playing,a kind of glossolalia, not real words. The trick isn't original - Roland Kirkand Sam Most do it. Slam Stewart used to hum with his bass-bowings, and Jeremypicked it up from hearing Yusef Lateef singing with a flute on a record.

Jeremy's"speaking in tongues" is neither blarney, however, nor bluster.

"One of thereasons I sing with flute is to show people I know what I'm playing—those arethe notes I meant, not just accidents from fooling around experimentally."

Why is there somuch door-slamming strength in Jeremy's playing, when he's so quiet the rest ofthe time?

"I save itup. Since I was a kid I've had a kind of impotent anger. I've never been ableto get angry— except in music. Actually, it's an expression of frustration,but not of hate."

His record debutis pretty rich fare, a lot of calories for one setting. The material seemscannily chosen for its appeal to contemporary jazz cliques: Monk (Well, You Needn't), Miles (So What) and Sonny Rollins (0leo and Blue Seven). One suspects itwasn't Steig's decision to odd the two tasty ballads; but a record is to besold as well as to be heard, and pacing is important.

"Monk'stunes," he says, "are like children's songs. I play Monk for mylittle sister. They're very free tunes. I never think about the changes, withMonk; I relate to the melody." He praises Horace Silver and Sonny Rollins,too, as writers. Rollins's Blue Seven, hesays, "is so far above the usual B-flat blues. Playing it was like beingin

the clouds; I wasso carried away, I almost hated to come back to the tune." The piecebegins with the rhythmic flavor of George Russell's "Stratosphunk."Ben Tucker's bass walking as if avoiding cracks in the sidewalk. All (ourmusicians solo in this number, sometimes simultaneously (it could only happenin

America

). Finally, at the terminal, Jeremy pullsthe train whistle.

So What is taken at the faster tempo Miles Davis likes now insteadof the original medium-slow pace. Jeremy used to be put down for playing itthis way because it was "not the way Miles plays it."

0leo, a last-minute insert in one take, is Jeremy's choice forbest track. "Everything I did was original with myself. I wasn't leaningback on anything I'd ever done with Oleo before."

As this isJeremy's record, and as pianist Denny Zeitlin will star soon in his own album,copy is properly short on Zeitlin, here. And for a first entrance Stage Leftmay be better than Center Stage: while the star has the spotlight, peoplewhisper "Yeah, but who's that over there?" That's Dennis Zeitlin, ahalf year from a medical degree at John Hopkins Medical School in Baltimore, then internship toward professionalpsychiatry.

Medicalschool." Zeitlin says, "is the most rigid pledge-ship I've everundergone. I've been on a tougher schedule the past 3 ½ years than I'll ever beon, and still played piano. I love medicine as much as music." He'll stayactive in both—a neat trick, with dividends; like Somerset Maugham, he won'thave to scuffle at his art. "I can play more of what I feel is in myself insteadof playing what I have to for hamburgers."

In a fieldblooming with piano-players, the path to Denny Zeitlin leads past Bill Evans("I've probably admired Evans more than any other pianist") by wayof Oscar Peterson's articulation and George Russell's searching-with-fire. After thatyou're on your own, as Zeitlin's playing is. There's remarkable music from theside of the stage. Bassist Ben Tucker, too. was a new face before at a party inHammond's home. As I said, Jeremy Steig doesn'thave a regular group, or a regular job. And "I can do a thousand things Ididn't show on this record, but I didn't feel them at the time. And you've gotto feel it."

A real kook. Anartist, trying to create something, to do his things his way, and then, if possible, to make a living. You may find himsitting in at Page Three or some other joint in Greenwich Village. You'll recognize Jeremy easily. He looks16, he's beardless even though he carries a sketchbook, and when he playsflute he sounds like this.

(At this point,play record.)

WILLIS CONOVER”

Stanley and Oliver

2011-12-16T07:00:00.000-08:00

I wanted to spenda bit more time with tenor saxophonist Stanley Turrentine especially afterlistening to his work with arranger-composer Oliver Nelson on their 1965 Blue Notealbum entitled Joyride [CDP 7 46100 2]

"Oliver was awonderful choice to work on this album with me." says Stanley. "I've known him personally for justa couple of years, but I knew of him by reputation, and from his records, forquite a while before that.

"What makeshim valuable, among other things, is his consistency. He does a lot ofrecording, but whoever he happens to be dealing with, you can tell that he hasfigured out each individual's personal groove, and has written accordingly.

"That's whathe did for me. and I couldn't have been happier with the arrangements. He dida superb job." [Stanley's quotation is excerpted from Leonard Feather's insert notes].

The tune isOliver’s original A Kettle of Fish onwhich Herbie Hancock takes the piano solo and Grady Tate keeps things crackling on drums.

This thing swingsso much you might want to be careful about too many sudden moves so as not tohurt yourself while grooving to it.

Just click on the "X" in the upper right-hand corner while viewing the video to close out of the ads, should they appear.

Blue Hour – Stanley Turrentine with The 3 Sounds

2011-12-14T07:00:00.000-08:00

The editorialstaff at JazzProfiles has plans to include more about tenor saxophonistStanley Turrentine in a future feature about “the Texas Tenor style.”

“The Texas Tenorstyle” is defined by Ted Gioia in The History of Jazz as:

“A blues-drenched tenor saxstyle … characterized by honking’, shoutin’, riffin’, riding high on a singlenote or barking out a guttural howl.” [p. 341]

In fairness to Stanley, his allegiance to this style of playingtenor saxophone is a much more subtle one and has more to do with tone andphrasing than with the specific characteristics of the style as contained inTed’s description of it.

No bar walkin’ orjumpin’ in the air and coming down doing the splits for Stanley.

Orrin Keepnews inhis insert notes to James Clay’s Double Dose of Soul [RiversideRLP-9349/OJCCD-1790-2] states it this way:

“For Clay becomes the mostrecent addition to a long tradition of outstanding tenormen from the big state(among them: Arnett Cobb, Illinois Jacquet, Budd Johnson, most of whom seem toshare the same compelling Texas ‘moan’ in their tone).”

[For the record,although Stanley was born in Pittsburgh, PA, I still think of him as a “Texas” Tenorman and include him in this style ofplaying. His first influence on the horn was Illinois Jacquet].

Jerry Atkins inhis magnificent treatment on the subject for The International Association ofJazz Record Collector’s IAJRC Journal [Vol. 33, No.2, Spring2000] puts it more succinctly when he states:

“What is a TexasTenor? In the world of Jazz, it’s a saxophonist born in or near the Lone Star Stateand playing with uniqueness in sound and ideas that many have tried todescribe.”

Jerry includes inhis essay on Texas Tenormen, Herschel Evans, Buddy Tate, Budd Johnson, Illinois Jacquet, Arnett Cobb, Don Wilkerson,Booker Ervin, John Hardee, James Clay, David ‘Fathead” Newman and MichaelIvery.

I first encounteredStanley Turrentine’s work on Blue Hour [Blue Note 24586/7243 524586 2 2] on which he is paired with The 3 Sounds [Gene Harris, piano, AndySimpkins, bass and Bill Dowdy, drums].

We requestedcopyright permission from Ira Gitler, who prepared the original liner notes for the album when it wasreleased in 1960 and from Michael Cuscuna who prepared its release on CD in 1999.

Following theirannotations, you will find a number of videos which contain a variety of audiotracks from this classic album.

If the one of theideals of Jazz artists is the creation of an instantly identifiable sound, thanone need to look no farther than Stanley Turrentine as the embodiment of thissignature quality.

One note and youknow it’s him.

“DO you rememberLongfellow's Children's Hour? Well,this is the blue hour and it's not for children. The blue hour is that earlymorning time when you "reach across the pillow where your baby used tolay" (part of an accurate blues lyric once sung by Rubberlegs Williams)and fail to find her (or him) there. It is when the lonely automobile soundsfrom the street below, the reflection of the neons and the elongated shadows onthe wall, all serve as reminders of the solitary state.

If there is one thingthat simultaneously reiterates the painful facts and serves as balm for yourbruised soul, it is music. Specifically, the blues are about the most powerfulcombination of purgative and emollient that there is.

Blues are like thepeople who create them, products of their environment. The blues in Blue Hourare not the raw, urgent, rural blues. Nevertheless, they are genuinely bluesyeven if not cast in the usual 12-bar mold. They are representative of what iscommonly known as the "blues ballad," blues or blues-inflected songswith a bridge.

This genre grewpopular in the '40s, especially around the large cities. You heard it both inthe repertoires of the big bands and the small combos.

Although the bluesballad has mainly been the property of vocalists, many of the melodies are soattractive that our modern jazzmen began to play them during the '50s. The bestof this type of song has always contained the warmth of the blues coupled withromantic elements from the "popular" tune. Buddy Johnson's "SinceI Fell For You" (sister Ella Johnson made this one especially convincing)is an excellent example.

"Gee Baby,Ain't I Good to You" goes back to the 40s when some memorable versions ofthis Don Redman tune were done by Lips Page and Nat Cole. Old Count Basic fanswill remember Jimmy Rushing's original vocal plea of "I Want A LittleGirl."

While neverthought of as a blues ballad, "Willow Weep For Me," qualifies by itsstrong blues feeling, even though it approaches the category from anotherdirection than, say, the "Don't Cry Baby" that Jimmy Mitchelle did inthe '40s with Erskine Hawkins.

The only 12-barblues of the set is "Blue Riff" by Gene Harris. The tempo is a bitfaster than any of the other slow-grooved selections but it is in the samerelaxed mood.

No detailedexplanation is needed to tell you about the treatment of these songs here. Thesimple act of listening will be self-explanatory.

The horn thatfills Blue Hour with minutes of azure, cobalt, cerulean, navy, skyand Baby; Baby, is the tenor saxophone of Stanley Turrentine. Although only inhis late 20s, Turrentine has a warmth of style associated with the players ofan earlier period. His first inspirations were Coleman Hawkins and Don Byas andit is obvious that he learned some valuable lessons from them.

Stan's full-bodiedtenor is ideally suited to the material here. Presently with organist ShirleyScott's group, he is perhaps best-known for his work with the Max Roach Quintetduring 1959-60. It should be known, however, that he played with Ray Charles in1952 and Earl Bostic in 1953. Jobs like these were actually long-rangepreparation for a date such as Blue Hour.

Since Turrentine'sfirst Blue Note LP as a leader (Look Out! BN 4039) and his numerousappearances as a sideman on this label with Horace Parian, Arthur Taylor, etc.,he has drawn nothing but high praise from a variety of critics. His direct,honestly emotional playing, embodying elements of the old and the new, pleasesa wide scope of listening taste.

The fly, funkythreesome known as The Three Sounds is very familiar to Blue Note listeners. Inessence, this trio is an export of Benton Harbor, Michigan and a product of Indiana. Pianist Gene Harris and drummer BillDowdy were born in the Michigan city. Bassist Andy Simpkins was born in Richmond, Indiana, the state where the group was formed in South Bend in 1956. In addition to their own albumson Blue Note, the Sounds also did a set backing Lou Donaldson.

The wedding ofTurrentine and The Three Sounds is the work of an astute matchmaker. Theirinsinuating, down stylings are a perfect complement to Stan's tenor. If he isthe hands of the clock which tells us the blue hour, the Sounds are the innerworks with Harris the sweep second hand.

This album has tomake you feel good even when you are really brought down. You don't have toshake well before using. Use it freely; its healing powers won't diminish. Andif your baby happens to come back and you're feeling all right again, it won'thurt to enjoy Blue Hour together, even at twelve noon.

— IRA GITLERoriginal liner notes”

“STANLEYTURRENTINE was a member of Max Roach's quintet and had just made an album ofhis own for Time Records when he made his first Blue Note appearance on a DizzyReece session in April 1960.

Although thatsession was not issued until 1999 (Dizzy Reece's Comin' On), he clearly made anincredible impression on Blue Note's Alfred Lion, Francis Wolff and Ike Quebec.Three weeks later, he was in the studio with Jimmy Smith making the amazing MidnightSpecial and Back At The Chicken Shack albums. Two months later, he made thefirst of many albums of his own for the label (Look Out! with the HoraceParian trio), followed by his first session with The Three Sounds (tracks 4-8on this CD). That summer, he returned for Blue Note sessions with HoraceParian, Dizzy Reece, Duke Jordan and Art Taylor. The year 1960 closed with asecond session with The Three Sounds, which produced the original BlueHour (Blue Note 84057).

ClearlyTurrentine's juicy, soulful tone, rhythmically hip phrasing and wonderfulmelodic ideas were what Blue Note was all about. And for the next nine years,he

recorded asuccession of wonderful dates for the label as a leader and as a sideman. (Hewould also return when the label was reactivated in 1985.)

Gene Harris,Andrew Simpkins and Bill Dowdy first came together as The Four Sounds (with asuccession of tenor saxophonists) in South Bend, Indiana in 1956. Paring down to a trio, theyworked around Ohio playing as a trio and supporting traveling artists, toured withSonny Stitt and then settled in Washington, D.C. where they began to make a name forthemselves as a trio.

Horace Silver wasamong the first to sing their praises and bring them to Blue Note's attention.In September 1958, they came to New York to open for the volcanic Stuff Smith atthe Offbeat Club. Impressed by their ability to find and lock in on a groove,Alfred Lion immediately signed them to Blue Note and brought them into thestudio to make their first album Introducing The Three Sounds. NatAdderley also used them that month as the rhythm section on his BranchingOut album with Johnny Griffin.

When they returnedto town in the next February to make their second album Bottoms Up, Alfred Lionalso paired them up with Lou Donaldson for the superb LD + 3 album. WhenStanley Turrentine came into the fold in 1960, he became an ideal candidate forthe same concept. He had the same range and soul that made The Three Sounds oneof the most popular trios of its day.

So on June 29, 1960 the dayafter the trio cut "Moods" and "Feelin' Good," theyreturned to the studio to record with Turrentine. According to his sessionnotes, Alfred Lion was worried that Stanley Turrentine sounded better than thetrio that day. The date ended after five tunes with a notation that they woulduse the then-untitled blues, "Where Or When" and "There Is NoGreater Love" and finish the album later.

Two days after thetrio recorded "Here We Go" and "It Just Got To Be," on December 16, 1960 theyreconvened with Stanley. This time, once they hit a groove, the session sailed byeffortlessly and yielded more than enough material for an album.

Oscar Pettiford's"Blues In The Closet,' "Just In Time" and a strong alternatetake of

"Gee Baby,Ain't I Good To You" were left in the can.

The album BlueHour was released and became an instant classic in the canon of bothTurrentine and The Three Sounds. The extra material from that session and thefirst session are what make up the previously unissued second CD on this set.

Although theprolific Three Sounds stayed with Blue Note until June 1962, they had no moreencounters with special guests except for a single track with Ike Quebec onwhich Gene Harris switches to organ (recently issued for the first time on TheLost Sessions). In October of that year, they made two albums forVerve, one of which, oddly enough, was a collaboration with Anita O'Day. InDecember, the trio began a series of albums for Mercury/Limelight, some ofwhich included orchestral accompaniment.

When they returnedto Blue Note in 1966, the drum chair was occupied by Kalil Madi (followed byDonald Bailey, then Carl Burnett). Andy Simpkins left in 1968 and his chair wasfilled by Henry Franklin. While they continued to add orchestral backing forstudio albums, that funky, hard-driving trio sound remained at the core of thegroup's identity and appeal. Some of their most rewarding sessions in thoseyears were live recordings at the London House (Limelight), the Lighthouse andthe It Club (Blue Note).

It would have beengreat to hear The Three Sounds with Stitt or Gene Ammons or any number oflike-minded saxophonists. But at least we have their collaborations with LouDonaldson and Stanley Turrentine to enjoy and now we have twice as much musicfrom their meetings with Stanley.

— MICHAEL CUSCUNA1999”

Bobby Troup – Stars of Jazz

2011-12-09T07:00:00.000-08:00

“About Bobby Troup...

He sang as though he had justhalf a voice. No volume, it was all about confiding. Sometimes he croaked outa line, next minute he'd released a word as though he was doubtful aboutdelivering it to the world at large. Bobby Troup never played to the gallery,never went for the big one. Yet, despite - or rather because of - suchreluctance, allied to a lemon-twist quality that fell oddly on unaccustomedears, the man from Harrisburg, PA.still qualified as Mr. Cool, the vocal equivalent of a Paul Desmond alto solomaybe. He sounded like no one else. And no one else has ever sounded like him.”

- Fred Dellar, Mojo Magazine

We wrote about composer,pianist and vocalist Bobby Troup in an earlier feature about him and JulieLondon which you can locate in the blog archives by going here.

Many of us first“met” Bobby in the 1950s when he hosted the Emmy award wining ABC televisionseries, Stars of Jazz.

Can you imagine -a regular, weekly series on a major television network devoted to Jazz?

It was cool and sowas Bobby.

Since it was basedin Los Angeles, most of the groups that appeared on the show were associated withwas then labeled the “West Coast” school of Jazz.

There are twowonderful books on this subject: Ted Gioia, West Coast Jazz: Modern Jazz in California, 1945-1960 and Robert Gordon, Jazz West Coast, The Los Angeles Jazz Scene of the 1950s.

A number of yearsago, The California Institute of Jazz made available to those in attendance atits Spring 1999 4-day festival celebrating West Coast Jazz , a wonderful CD ofthe music from the Stars of Jazz series.

Ken Poston, thedirector of the institute, wrote the following in the insert booklet whichaccompanied the compendium:

“This anthology has beenassembled exclusively for JAZZWEST COAST II, presented by the California Institute for the Preservation ofJazz. All of the material comes from various Bobby Troup Stars of Jazz televisionbroadcasts. Stars of Jazz debuted in the summer of 1956 on KABC, Los Angeles. It was unheard of in the mid 1950s totelevise jazz on a regular basis, but because of the dedication of producerJimmie Baker, program director Pete Robinson and host Bobby Troup the programaired for over two years. It was sponsored by Budweiser and eventually wentfrom a local to network broadcast. The selections on this disc represent theincredible range of artists that were beamed into your living room every night.”

—Ken Poston

Incidentally,Ken’s organization, which now carries the name – The Los Angeles Jazz Institute[LAJI] – continues to sponsor semi-annual, four day festivals, as well as,one-day commemorative events. You can find out more about these programs by visitingKen’s website.

In addition to theLAJI’s repository of goodies, Ray Avery, the late photographer and Jazzrecordings maven, was allowed to photograph the Stars of Jazz.

A compilation ofRay photographs from these shows was published in 1998.

Cynthia T. Sesso,who in her own right is a major authority on Jazz photography, licenses Ray’swork along with the images of a number of other photographers who specializedin Jazz.

Cynthia has been agreat friend to JazzProfiles over the years in allowing us to use photographsby her clients on these pages.

You can find outmore about Cynthia and her work at her website.She may also have copies of Ray’s book about Stars of Jazz stillavailable for sale.

Her are someexcerpts from the book’s introduction regarding how Ray came to be involvedwith the show and Bobby Troup’s role as contained in an interview thatRay gave to Will Thornbury.

“…, my photographyflowed naturally out of my involvement in my record store. At that time Iwasn't well known as a photographer. I just happened to be there and I had anentrée because I was in the record business. Most of the small record companiesknew about me because I was carrying their product in my store, they wouldinvite me to record sessions. I was very seldom paid for a session, except ifthey bought some photos. …

One day a friendof mine asked if I'd seen "Stars Of Jazz" and I said I hadn't, so Ichecked the newspaper and found out when it was going to be on. I just wentdown, I think it was the second or third show, and I asked them if I couldphotograph it. They were very friendly and said yes, of course, just be carefuland don't fall over any cords or walk in front of any cameras."

The host for allbut two Stars of Jazz episodes was Bobby Troup. He embodied the essence of theshow - straightforward, genuine and creative. Perhaps some of the show'sviewers from outside the jazz world were pulled in through Troup'saccessibility. He wore a crew cut. He was a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania with a degree in business and had writtenmany of the nation's favorite songs "Route 66", "Daddy","Lemon Twist", songs that crossed over from the jazz to the popularcharts. In addition to writing songs, he was also an active musician and wouldperform often on the show.

"Bobby wasthe perfect man", notes Jimmie Baker. 'There were some people who wantedto have a bigger name, but nobody else could do it. Nobody else had the appealthat Bobby had." Avery adds, "Bobby was a good musician, had writtengreat songs and he could be a great master of ceremonies. That's a combinationthey couldn't find in anyone else. He spoke really well - he didn't want any ofthose corny jazz lines in the script, which was good. He was a really goodinterviewer. He made people feel so comfortable when they were there. And of coursethey respected him as a musician, many of the sets featured Bobby at thepiano."

"All themusicians had so much faith in the presentation of "Stars ofJazz"," Troup says. "They thought it was the best jazz showthey'd ever seen. Did you know the story of how "Stars of Jazz" gotstarted? Pete Robinson, Jimmie Baker, and Bob Arbogast were all jazz buffs. Imean they really loved jazz, and there was this executive, Seligman, graduatedfrom Harvard, Phi Beta Kappa, and they were on him constantly to let them dothis jazz show. Finally just to get them out of his hair, he said 'OK, I'llgive you a studio, a camera, you have to write it, you have to arrange everymusician, no more than scale, and I'll give you three weeks to run the show.' Thefirst show was Stan Getz. And they screened quite a few people and for somereason or another they picked me to be the host. I'm sure glad they did. Everynight was a highlight, every night. I did the show for scale, it amounted to$60 maybe $70 a night. When we went network I got scale for network, which wasmore."

Avery adds, "inthose days there weren't the camera men that there are today. Now you go to aconcert and there's fifty people with cameras, but before, maybe half a dozenof us would show up. Consequently, the photos taken in my early period are theones that are in demand now because not many people have them."”

Ironically, Seligman,who authorized Stars of Jazz and was very boastful of the program when it wonan Emmy Award, never supported the show for a regular timeslot when it wentnational on ABC.

Despite thecritical acclaim it received, the show was cancelled of January, 1959 due to“low ratings.” Seligman was also responsible for ordering that the tapes of the130 episodes of Stars of Jazz be erased so that they could be reused. Afterall, each tape cost $400. Of course, what was recorded on them was priceless!

I guess “Thosewhom the gods would destroy, they first make mad?”

Mercifully, JimmyBaker of the show’s production team was able to save 35mm’s and 81 of the earlykinescopes, all of which now reside for posterity in the UCLA Film Library.

More of the musicfrom the series is available on a commercial RCA CD - Bobby Troup Stars of Jazz[74321433962] - from which we’ve drawn the music for the following tribute.

In his insertnotes to the recording, Pete Robinson, one of the show’s producers, wrote thefollowing:

“It has beenobserved that People Who Live in Glass Houses Shouldn't Throw Stones, and sinceBobby Troup's particular glass house is a collective one, consisting of 17- and24-inch television screens the country over, it is most important that hisparticipation in the realm of jazz be exemplary. It is.

As one playing ofthe enclosed collection will attest, Mister Troup's qualities of tempo,intonation, taste and interpretation place him in good stead as a jazz singerof considerable merit. Nominations in the DownBeat and Playboy polls addfurther to his vocal status.

These fans,however, will come as no surprise to the initiated. Bobby's work has had morethan a little exposure on records. What IS new is the extraordinary group ofjazz musicians who herewith are represented in tandem with Troup. Bobby'spresence as narrator of ABC-TV's "Stars of Jazz" for the past threeyears has found him rubbing elbows with players from every corner of jazz. (Atotal of 714 of them at this writing, for those who find security instatistics.)

It was, then, onlya matter of time until an elite group of these jazzmen should come togetherwith Troup for the purpose of recording. When Shorty Rogers and Jimmy Rowles became available toprovide arrangements, the time was ripe.”

The audio track onthe video is Bobby singing Free and Easy whichhe co-wrote with Henry Mancini. The trumpet solos are by Pete and Conte Candoliand Jimmy Rowles wrote the arrangement.