Archives for May 2013

Miller’s solo performance of Duke Ellington’s “I Got It Bad and That Ain’t Good” at last summer’s Jazz a Vienne festival in France gives an indication why he was respected as one of the most expressive musicians of his generation.

Lehigh Valley Hospital in Allentown, Pennsylvania confirms that pianist Mulgrew Miller is in intensive care. On the internet there have been erroneous tweeted reports of his death. Miller suffered a massive stroke on May 24. At this writing, further details are not available. Miller began his career in 1977 with Mercer Ellington. He worked early on with Betty Carter, Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers and Benny Golson. He has recorded extensively with his trio and toured with his band, Wingspan.

Sorry to hear that Ed Shaughnessy died last Friday. The drummer is best known for his 29-year-stint in the Tonight Show band, but he had a long, distinguished career before that. He played with Jack Teagarden, Benny Goodman, Charles Mingus, Horace Silver and Johnny Richards, subbed with Duke Ellington and made five albums with Count Basie. He was on other recordings by a range of artists that included Charlie Ventura, Clark Terry, Billie Holiday, Chris Connor, Gene Ammons, Bob Brookmeyer, Johnny Hodges, Doc Severinsen and Quincy Jones. Shaughnessy was 84. To read The New York Times obituary, go here.

Bill Crow’s The Band Room column in the May issue of Allegro, the newspaper of New York’s AFM local 802, has this anecdote, used with Bill’s permission:

I was jamming with Zoot Sims and some French jazz players one night in the sub-basement of a Paris bistro. Zoot really tore into one tune, playing chorus after chorus of his own special whoopee, and then, as he turned it over to the piano player, he grinned at me and said, “You know, you can have a lot of fun with these musical instruments!”

To read Bill’s full column, go here. To hear him on bass with Zoot and Al Cohn having a lot of fun, “Morning Fun,” click on the arrow in the picture below. Mose Allison is the pianist, Gus Johnson the drummer, ca. 1959. Sims has the first tenor sax solo.

I am now the proud owner of 9 of the 11 recordings of “Yesterdays,” the Bill Holman arrangement, by Stan Kenton featuring Bill Perkins (1924-2003) on tenor saxophone (I am missing one that was issued on a Penn State Jazz Club LP, and a recent Wolfgang’s Vault download of a French Lick Jazz Festival performance from 1958).

Perkins is simply remarkable, taking a different and interesting solo even on performances from consecutive nights (three completely different solos on April 23rd, 25th and 26th, 1956 concerts. I have heard many live recordings of famous studio cuts by big bands, and frequently they are mere paraphrases of what happened in the studio (some of Ellington’s from the 40-41 band have solos that are note for note from the studio recordings). But Perkins takes big chances every time out. My favorite was recorded on Stan’s European tour of ‘56 at Mannheim, Germany. He completely resists the temptation to repeat his earlier success, sometimes daringly so, and even manages to quote I’m Getting Sentimental Over You in the coda. What an extraordinary musician he was, and so terribly unsung.

(Photo of Perkins from the 1980s)

Of all the performances Mr. Frese has accumulated, the only Kenton recording of “Yesterdays” to be found on the web is the best known, from Kenton’s 1955 Contemporary Concepts album. Here it is, as illustrated and posted by Steve Cerra on his Jazz Profiles blog. The high-note lead trumpet toward the end is by Al Porcino.

Go here for a Rifftides appreciation of Bill Perkins.

The album was Brubeck Time. The film is Stompin’ For Mili, made by the photographer Gjon Mili at the October 12 and 13, 1954, recording sessions in the storied CBS 30th Street Studio in New York. In a letter to producer George Avakian, used in the album’s liner notes, Brubeck described the making of the recording’s most famous piece:

‘I would like,’ said Gjon, closing his eyes and raising his hand expressively, ‘I would like to see Audrey Hepburn come walking through the woods.’ ‘Gee,’ said Paul wistfully, ‘So would I.’ ‘One,’ I said, noticing the glazed expression about Paul’s eyes ‘two, three, four.’ And we played it.

“Stompin’ For Mili,” is the second take of an improvisation on the chords of George Gershwin’s “Oh, Lady Be Good.” When Mili spoke derisively of the first take, it aroused Brubeck’s cowboy temper and he angrily stomped off the time for take two. In the letter, he described his reaction as an “expression of rage and frustration” that accounted for his directing at Mili a quote from “Thank You for a Lovely Evening.”

The sound track of the film is simultaneous with the recording of “Audrey” and “Stompin’ For Mili” on the album.

The film was posted on Vimeo by the filmmaker Brandon Bloch, whose grandfather, Joe Dodge, was the drummer in the Brubeck quartet from 1951 to 1956. The bassist in the film and on Brubeck Time was Bob Bates.

Here is an addendum to the “Audrey” story from Take Five: The Public and Private Lives of Paul Desmond.

Paul never met Audrey Hepburn, though he came close many times that summer of 1954. In the Jean Giraudeaux play Ondine, she was an underwater nymph who fell in love with a knight. She won a Tony award for her work in the title role. Ondine played at the 46th Street Theatre, not far from Basin Street.

“Paul would look at his watch the whole time we were playing at Basin Street,” Brubeck told me. “He knew when she would walk out the stage door and get in her limousine, and he wanted to be standing there. So, when I’d see him watching the time, I knew I’d better take a quick intermission or I was going to have problems with Paul. He’d put his horn down, and out the door he’d go, and he’d run down just to stand and watch her leave.”

“Paul told me that,” I said to Brubeck, “and I asked him, ‘What did you say to her? And he looked surprised and said, ‘Nothing. Are you kidding?’”

Brubeck Time became a big seller and “Audrey” one of Desmond’s most beloved works. The recording associated his name with Hepburn’s, but he died twenty-three years later never having imagined that she knew who he was or that she had heard the piece. After Hepburn died in 1993, the United Nations honored her for her international work with children. Her husband, Andrea Dotti, asked Brubeck and his Quartet to play “Audrey” at the memorial service at UN headquarters in New York.

“I told him,” Brubeck said, “that I had no idea he’d be aware of ‘Audrey.’ He said, ‘My wife listened to it every night before she went to bed, and if she was walking through the garden, she’d listen to it on earphones.’”

“Paul never knew,” Iola Brubeck said. “And he was so in love with Audrey.”

A year or so earlier, Hepburn herself acknowledged what “Audrey” meant to her. The publicist and author Peter Levinson sent the actress a copy of Brubeck Time when the album was first reissued as a compact disc. She responded with a hand-written note.

19 March ’92

Dear Peter,
Thank you for such a lovely gift—I am thrilled to have the Brubeck C.D. with ‘My Song,’ the ultimate compliment. You letter is so lovely, and I am most grateful for all your kindness.

Warmest Wishes,
Audrey Hepburn

At the United Nations ceremony, Brubeck’s new alto saxophonist, Bobby Militello, played Desmond’s solo note for note, inflection for inflection. He had memorized it when he was a boy.

In the video, there are glimpses of well known French musicians and entertainers, a few Americans including Eddie Condon, Shorty Sherock, Joe Bushkin, George Wettling, Chubby Jackson and—in a couple of frames that give “cameo appearance” new meaning—Charlie Parker. We see Parker and bassist Jackson in a short clip in the studio of WPIX-TV in New York. We don’t hear him. All of the music is Bechet dubbed into the film sequence.

Any newly discovered film of Parker is valuable. The problem is, the scene is dark and goes by so fast that unless you were told it was Parker, you would need Superman vision to catch him. So, the Rifftides technical staff sprang into action, snagged a still frame and worked a bit of digital magic to brighten it and give it better focus. The result, seen on the left, is Parker pictured as a pointillist like Seurat might have painted him.

Now that you know what to watch for at 1:51, here’s the Bechet tribute.

Sidney Bechet died in Paris in 1959 at the age of 62. The Sidney Bechet Society helps to keep his legacy alive.

Poodie James is a very good book. Not only is it handsomely and lyrically written, but Ramsey’s snapshots of small-town life circa 1948 are altogether convincing, and he has even brought off the immensely difficult trick of worming his way into the consciousness of a deaf person without betraying the slightest sense of strain…A quarter-century ago, Poodie James would have had no trouble finding an East Coast publisher, and it might even have made its way into the hands of a Hollywood producer, since it could easily be turned into a very nice little movie along the lines of The Spitfire Grill.

—Terry Teachout, Commentary

Fascinating characters vividly brought to life in a setting of the Columbia River country in a time now vanished. The writing is unfailingly exquisite, the story irresistible.

—Gene Lees

Journalists who covered Watergate, as I did for UPI Television News, will never forget the weeks of alternating boredom, excitement and shock as the scandal unfolded. All of that came rushing back last evening as my wife said, “There you are.” Indeed, there was my 40-years-younger self, out of focus but recognizable, getting up to stretch after Senator Sam Ervin called the proceeding to a close on the final day. Nixon would not give up the presidency for more than another year of investigation, the release of the “smoking gun” tape, revelation upon revelation of wrongdoing in the White House, great reporting by The Washington Post’s Woodward and Bernstein, and impeachment. But the hearings by the Senate Watergate Committee set the stage for his departure from office.

Here are McNeil and Lehrer with Jeffrey Brown in the PBS News Hour Watergate segment from last evening. It’s a good refresher course.

The concert included, among other pieces, Raye and DePaul’s “Star Eyes,” Michel LeGrand’s “You Must Believe in Spring,” Cole Porter’s “I Love You,” Antonio Carlos Jobim’s “Caminhos Cruzados” and a piquant Stamm original based on “In a Mellotone,” which Duke Ellington wrote on the harmonies of “Rose Room”—a triple play. Great fun. The internet stream has the entire concert, including listeners milling around and chatting during the intermission, the sponsor’s announcement and people schmoozing when it’s over. It’s almost like being there. You may see someone you recognize. Production values are minimal; one camera on a static shot. Audio quality is excellent. What more do you need? To tap into the archived stream of the Stamm-Holober concert, click here. For information about the artists, see the websites of Holober and Stamm.

To learn about the Nyack Library’s Carnegie room and its schedule of jazz and classical concerts, go here.

Have a good weekend.

At the very moment that last evening’s memorial service for Dave Brubeck got underway, the rumble of thunder penetrated the massive Gothic walls of New York City’s Cathedral of St. John The Divine. A murmur ran through the throng filling the 120-year-old church.

With dignity and a commanding presence, Iola Brubeck read Langston Hughes’ poem “I Dream a World.” She said that it echoes the core of her husband’s belief in the equality of all peoples. An excerpt:

Recalling one of the last times her husband played in the cathedral, Mrs. Brubeck said, “The 5/4 is still echoing somewhere in here.”

5/4, 9/8 and assorted other time signatures sounded through the cathedral as combinations of musicians remembering Brubeck played a dozen of his compositions. Catherine Brubeck, pictured here with her dad, told of the time in the 1950s that her father came off the road to their home in the Oakland hills above San Francisco Bay and initiated a jam session with his very young sons. She was two years old. Inspired by the family musicale, she slipped into her tiny tutu and danced around the room. That, in turn, inspired Brubeck to write “Cathy’s Waltz.” After she told the story, Catherine introduced her brothers Darius, piano; Chris,bass; Danny, drums (pictured); and Matthew, cello; who played her song. That initiated a succession of performances by musicians young and old, from the Brubeck Institute Alumni Quintet in their early twenties to bassist Eugene Wright (pictured), the surviving member of the classic Brubeck quartet of the 1950s and ‘60s. Two weeks short of his 90th birthday, Wright joined Darius to play “King For a Day,” his feature from Brubeck’s musical The Real Ambassadors.

A full rundown of the memorial program, including names of speakers, players and compositions, is posted here.

Among the highlights of the evening were husband and wife pianists Bill Charlap and Renee Rosnes in a four-handed duet on “The Duke” and Roberta Gambarini singing an impassioned “Travelin’ Blues” accompanied by pianist Andy Laverne, bassist Chris Smith and drummer Cory Cox, with clarinetist Paquito D’Rivera, and Roy Hargrove playing flugelhorn.

The Brubeck Brothers backed alto saxophonist Paul Winter and flutist Deepak Ram in “Koto Song.

Laverne, Dan Brubeck and Chris Brubeck were the rhythm section for Branford Marsalis in his stunning exploration of “For Iola.”

Chick Corea followed with “Strange Meadowlark.” He played it unaccompanied, investing the piece with harmonic and metric riches that all but illuminated the huge cathedral space.

Those were a few of the memorable moments in an occasion dedicated to a man who had an enduring impact on the music, culture and social conscience of his and our time.

My brother-in-law was entertainment chairman of the Lion’s club in the early 1970s. They put on a benefit for the blind every year. He asked me if I could get some people to appear.

George Shearing was in San Francisco, so I asked him. His reply, as expected, was a direct yes. He played a few numbers with his trio and then announced to the audience that he had taken the liberty to bring a friend. At that point they played an intro and from the wings came, “Did you say you have a lot to learn?” followed by you know who.

The audience reaction was wonderful.

No doubt, especially if You Know Who sang as he did in the album they made together for Shearing’s Sheba label in 1971, and if Shearing dug into his store of harmonic knowledge as he does in this medley. It was assembled from the recording by YouTube contributor David Speed.

Let’s hope that the weather holds for the Dave Brubeck memorial tomorrow. The service is late in the day. The Rifftides plan is to post a report on Sunday.

Tommy Flanagan, Jaki Byard, The Magic of 2 (Resonance)

In this previously unissued 1982 collaboration from San Francisco’s Keystone Korner, Todd Barkan introduces the pianists as two of the instrument’s “greatest virtuosos.” They then set about proving it at two grand pianos in six brilliant duets and three solo pieces each. Not identified by right channel-left channel separation, in the duets they meld and contrast in performances that sound like products of four hands directed by one mind. This is a treasure.

When Antonio Carlos Jobim, Joao Gilberto, Johnny Alf and other Brazilians were developing bossa nova in the 1950s, their influences included musicians on the west coast of the United States, among them Chet Baker. In turn, Baker’s music affected the development of many young Brazilian musicians. Two of them have acknowledged Baker in new albums devoted to music that he sang and played.

Luciana Souza, The Book of Chet (Sunnyside)

At tempos putting her in contention for the world championship of slow singing, Souza caresses 10 ballads. The sections of vocalise in her heartbreaking treatment of “I Get Along Without You Very Well” and other songs show thorough understanding of Baker’s musicality. Larry Koonse’s guitar work at the head of the accompanying trio makes him a co-star of the album. In a CD released at the same time, Souza continues her series of duets with outstanding Brazilian guitarists in Duos III, including a breathtaking “Doralice” with Romero Lubambo.

Eliane Elias, I Thought About You (Concord)

Elias’s 14-song tribute to Baker duplicates only one piece in Souza’s Baker collection. Her fundamentally sunny approach highlights her singing and piano playing, with bassist Marc Johnson, drummer Victor Lewis, trumpeter Randy Brecker and guitarist Oscar Castro-Neves among the other musicians. Elias and Brecker shine in solo on “That Old Feeling” and “Just Friends.” She gives “Let’s Get Lost” a bright bossa treatment. Her way with “You Don’t Know What Love Is” recalls the wistfulness in Baker’s own recordings of a song that became a permanent part of his repertoire.

Ivo Perelman, Matthew Shipp, Michael Bisio, The Gift (Leo Records)

A Brazilian tenor saxophonist of Elias’s and Souza’s generation, Perelman operates largely free of restrictions, including those of the normal range of his instrument. He sometimes takes it from the low register up into sopranino territory. He and his frequent pianist partner Matthew Shipp have recorded together profusely in a series of albums that can be startling one moment and all but becalmed in serenity the next. The Gift, with the remarkable Michael Bisio joining them on bass, is one their most satisfying joint ventures, not least because of the wryness of their humor. “A Ride On A Camel,” a descriptive title if there ever was one, is a case in point.

Kenny Wheeler Big Band, The Long Waiting (CamJazz)

Wheeler’s playing and arranging will be immediately identifiable to anyone even slightly familiar with his work. The composer and flugelhornist’s first big band album in more than two decades displays his customary virtuosity in all areas. Now 83, he plays with melodic inventiveness, harmonic daring and technical virtuosity that can raise eyebrows. Wheeler’s writing for the 19-piece band achieves excitement and passion while at the same time triggering feelings of nostalgia and melancholy. The band is filled with some of London’s most accomplished jazz soloists and studio musicians. With her vocalese, Diana Torto plays a role as valuable as that of any of the instrumentalists. I have been known rail against albums made up only of original compositions. I’m not railing against Wheeler’s. They are dazzling.

Sandy Stewart & Bill Charlap, Something To Remember (Ghostlight)

The pianist’s and his mom’s second album—following their 2005 Love Is Here to Stay—finds them as compatible as they have been since he was a baby. Headed for a big career after her 1963 hit “My Coloring Book,” Ms. Stewart set it aside to raise Bill and her other children with her husband, the composer Moose Charlap. Following Charlap, Sr.’s death, she reestablished herself in music, reminding listeners of her way with phrasing and the meaning of lyrics. This intimate collection of ballads has a superb version of Johnny Mandel’s and the Bergmans’ “Where Do You Start?” and a touching interpretation of Moose Charlap’s “I Was Telling Him About You. ” Throughout, there is son Bill’s signature keyboard touch and way with chords.

Larry Willis, This Time The Dream’s On Me (High Note)

Willis’s decades as one of the great journeyman pianists in jazz and the high regard for him in the profession have nonetheless left him strangely obscure in relation to the size of his talent. Anyone wondering why, won’t find the answer in this solo piano album. His playing on seven classic songs and three of his compositions has fullness of imagination and command of the instrument that throughout his career have had him in demand by groups as diverse as those of Cannonball Adderley, Blood, Sweat and Tears, The Fort Apache Band and Roy Hargrove. Willis’s loving care of Duke Ellington’s “Single Petal of a Rose,” his “Silly Blues,”—which is anything but silly—and an expansive “It Could Happen to You” indicate the breadth of his talent.

Eddie Daniels & Roger Kellaway, Duke At The Roadhouse (IPO)

You might think that Daniels and Kellaway were going off on a free jazz tangent in “I’m Beginning to See the Light,” if it wasn’t apparent that they were working from an arrangement. Whether the arrangement was on paper is beside the point. It may have been a product of the intuition that the clarinetist and saxophonist and the pianist have shared for years. “Arrangements while you wait,” musicians sometimes say in such spontaneous situations. Oh yes: the point. The point is that Daniels and Kellaway play just short of an hour of music by or associated with Duke Ellington, plus one original apiece, and they have their usual rollicking good time. There’s an added element here, harking back to Kellaway’s celebrated cello quartets. On some pieces, classical cellist James Holland sits in and executes perfect jazz solos. Kellaway wrote the solos for Holland, whose feeling for jazz phrasing allowed him to play them as if he’d concocted them on the spot. This music was recorded before an audience at a theater in Santa Fe, New Mexico, but it has the road house spirit.

Preservation Hall Jazz Band, 50th Anniversary Collection (Columbia Legacy)

This collection revives memories of signing off the 10 o’clock news and wandering through the French Quarter from Royal Street to St. Peter to spend a few minutes, or an hour, with the tourists enjoying the Preservation Hall band. One of the earliest tracks of the four discs happened a few days before I arrived in 1966 for the first of my two stints in New Orleans. The Preservationists had George Lewis, clarinet; De De Pierce, cornet; Billie Pierce, piano; Big Eye Louis Nelson, trombone; Narvin Kimball, banjo; Chester Zardis, bass; and Cie Frazier, drums. That’s a tough band to beat for Crescent City authenticity. For the most part, later editions capture the spirit if not always the individuality of what I tend to think of as the George Lewis band, even though under the hall’s banner it was essentially leaderless. I was lucky to be there during Preservation Hall’s golden age. Hearing this set, which covers 1962 to 2009, I feel lucky again. Maybe the golden age continues.

A little known video of a Brubeck quartet performance recently surfaced. The other musicians are Jerry Bergonzi, tenor saxophone; Chris Brubeck, electric bass; and Randy Jones, drums. The piece is “All My Hope” from Brubeck’s mass To Hope: A Celebration, which premiered in 1980. This section of a Montreal television broadcast is almost certainly from 1980 rather than 1981, as YouTube indicates. It recalls the pleasure the pianist took in Bergonzi’s harmonic compatibility and daring during the saxophonist’s year or two with the quartet.

For information about the memorial service, including the list of performers paying tribute, click here.

 In addition, there are 26 jazz heroes, described as “activists, advocates, altruists, aiders and abettors of jazz who have had significant impact in their local communities.” For the names and photographs of winners in all 29 music categories, plus the heroes, go to this page at the JJA Website.

As a part of the Evans Centennial project, here is Chris Hunter featured on alto saxophone in a concert a year ago. We hear the Evans arrangement of Charles Mingus’s “Goodbye Porkpie Hat.” The baritone saxophone soloist is Howard Johnson, the guitar soloist Oz Noy.

The members of this edition of the Gil Evans Orchestra:

Drums, Kenwood Dennard
Bass, Mark Egan
Guitar, Ryo Kawasaki
Guitar, Oz Noy
Keyboards, Gil Goldstein
Keyboards, Delmar Brown
Baritone Sax, Howard Johnson
Tenor Sax, Alex Foster
Alto Sax, Chris Hunter
Tenor Sax, Billy Harper
French Horn, John Clark
Tuba, Bob Stewart
Trumpet, Miles Evans
Trumpet, Lew Soloff
Trumpet, Jon Faddis
Trombone, Conrad Herwig
Trombone, David Bargeron
Trombone, Tom”Bones”Malone
Bass Trombone, Dave Taylor