Johnny Griffin, a tenor saxophonist whose technical command set standards for his instrument and who refused to compromise his art, died today at his home in the village of Mauprevoir in France. From Ben Ratliff’s obituary of Griffin in today’s New York Times:
His height — around five feet five — earned him the nickname “The Little Giant”; his speed in bebop improvising marked him as “The Fastest Gun in the West”; a group he led with Eddie Lockjaw Davis was informally called the “tough tenor” band, a designation that was eventually applied to a whole school of hard bop tenor players.
And in general, Mr. Griffin suffered from categorization. In the early 1960s, he became embittered by the acceptance of free jazz; he stayed true to his identity as a bebopper. When he felt the American jazz marketplace had no use for him (at a time he was also having marital and tax troubles), he left for Holland.
At that point America lost one of its best musicians, even if his style fell out of sync with the times.
When the man admired as the Little Giant celebrated his eightieth birthday in May, Rifftides posted this retrospective. It includes a CD recommendation and a link to video of Griffin in action.
The nonagenarian pianist presented de Barros with every biographer’s hope, unrestricted access to his subject’s personal papers and nearly unrestricted access to her private thoughts. He made the most of it, turning exhaustive research and hundreds of hours of interviews into a true story with the sweep of a novel. From the early discovery of McPartland’s musical gift through her wartime service, her ecstatic and stormy marriage to Jimmy McPartland, her growth as a pianist, her deep affair with Joe Morello, and the radio show that made her a national figure, she has had a fascinating life. It makes a splendid read.
Mulligan’s Concert Jazz Band had three fewer musicians than most big jazz outfits. Its size permitted precision, flexibility and subtlety, yet the band had the power of sprung steel. In this concert from a half century ago, the CJB is as fresh as yesterday. Arrangements by Mulligan, Bob Brookmeyer, Al Cohn and Johnny Mandel set standards to which big band writers still aspire. Bassist Buddy Clark and drummer Mel Lewis inspired Mulligan, Brookmeyer, Conte Candoli, Gene Quill and Zoot Sims to some of the best soloing of their careers. This beautifully produced issue of the complete concert is a basic repertoire item.
A very sad notice. Johnny was a stupendous player full of joy and power.
I love specially “A blowin´session” with Coltrane and Mobley, the live recordings in the Monk´s big band, “The return of the Griffin”, a duo with Martial Solal “In and Out”, and of course a lot more.
I hope that he would play up there a couple of blues with John and Hank again.
Such a gentle kind soul, as well. I worked on some
of his record covers for Riverside Records
and Jazzland, meeting him on set at NYC’s
210 Fifth Avenue, aka The Donald Silverstein
Studio, where so many covers were shot that
won design awards for Riverside.
I had the pleasure of making the prints that
the original Birdland used for the 1961
Eddie Lockjaw/Johhny Griffin tough tenor
battles (what an awful name, “battles,” for two
great musicians performing). Wow. Griffin’s
music will be missed in person but will live on
in his recordings.
I just had a flash of another memory on the shooting of the cover of “Tough Tenor Favorites” in 1961. I was told to get a pint of milk for Eddie Lockjaw Davis. I thought he was going to drink the milk. However, he mixed the milk in a glass at the studio with an equal dose of scotch to soak his saxophone reeds before playing for our record cover photography requirements with Maestro Griffin.
Two Monk tunes, “Coming on the Hudson” and “Light Blue” were recorded on “Thelonious in Action” for the Five Spot sessions in 1958, with Johnny Griffin playing tenor. These may be the only recordings of these two great pieces, and it is clear from the restrained and moving solos that Griffin takes on them, which are quite a contrast with the tour de force solos he takes on tunes like “Blue Monk” and “Evidence,” that he had a profound understanding of the subtleties in Monk’s music.