Archives for 2006

There is less than a month until a concert in New York to benefit Dick Sudhalter, the multi-talented musician and writer who needs all the help his friends (I am one) and admirers can give. Here is what I wrote in June about Dick’s dilemma.

Richard M. Sudhalter, the gifted cornetist, biographer of Bix Beiderbecke and invaluable jazz historian, needs help. Following a massive stroke nearly three years ago and a recent diagnosis that he has MSA (multiple system atrophy), Dick’s medical bills have mounted to proportions that he cannot begin to manage.
Sudhalter wrote Lost Chords: White Musicians and Their Contributions to Jazz 1915-1945. Following racist attacks by ignoramuses when it was published in 1999, it is now beginning to get the credit due it as one of the most valuable historical and analytical studies about jazz. He also wrote superb biographies of Beiderbecke and Hoagy Carmichael. Three books of their quality would be accomplishment aplenty for anyone. But Sudhalter is also a superb cornetist in the Beiderbecke tradition and beyond it. His contributions to the music and to the general culture are profound.
Friends are organizing a benefit concert to be held at St. Peter’s Lutheran Church in New York on September 10, but Dick’s financial situation is crushing now. He is due to go to the Mayo Clinic for treatment. It’s going to be expensive. I am sending a check. I hope that you will also help, to whatever extent you can.

The concert will start at 7 pm at the church at Lexington Avenue and 54th Street. Tickets at the door or in advance are forty dollars. Please consider donations above that amount.
Dan Levinson and Randy Sandke are organizing the concert. If you go, you will hear Harry Allen, Dan Barrett, Eddie Bert, Bill Crow, Jim Ferguson, Dave Frishberg, Wycliffe Gordon, Marty Grosz, Becky Kilgore, Bill Kirchner, Steve Kuhn, Dan Levinson, Marian McPartland, Joe Muranyi, David Ostwald, Nicki Parrott, Bucky Pizzarelli, Scott Robinson, Randy Sandke, Daryl Sherman, and the Loren Schoenberg Big Band. There will no doubt be additions to that list. Tickets are available in advance–and donations can be sent by using this address:
Dorothy Kellogg
P.O. Box 757
Southold, NY 11971
You can also order tickets online with a credit card by visiting PayPal and using this account:
danlevinson@aol.com
Because of the MSA, Dick is unable to speak understandably. His ability to read and write are not affected. He would be delighted to hear by e-mail from friends who may have fallen out of touch. If you are in a position to offer him work–articles, reviews, essays, liner notes–hire him. He is a brilliant writer and he needs the money.

This is a vacation week. Blogging will be intermittent at best, but I will, of course, be thinking of all of you, wherever I may be.
I hope that you, too, are enjoying the summer. Unless, of course, you are in the southern hemisphere, in which case I hope that you are enjoying the winter.

Thanks to Ty Newcomb for alerting me to a remarkable performance of John Coltrane’s “Giant Steps.” The tenor player is an ugly cat, but he has Trane’s solo down cold (term used advisedly). To hear and witness it, go here. Do not ask where you can hear this player in live performance. You can’t.
Have a good weekend.

Duke Jordan died on Tuesday in Copenhagen. The news summons thoughts of the beauty of his piano playing and the gentleness of his personality. Jordan’s touch, harmonic sensitivity and gift for the creation of melodic lines made him a favorite colleague of Charlie Parker, Stan Getz, Gene Ammons and Chet Baker, to name a few who benefited from his artistry. He had worked earlier with Roy Eldridge, Coleman Hawkins and the Savoy Sultans, but his playing on Parker’s 1947 recordings on the Dial label, when he was twenty-five, brought him his first wide recognition. His introductions to ballads were often little masterpieces. The four bars leading into Parker’s “Embraceable You” constitute one of the most exquisite moments in all of recorded jazz, and one of the most imitated.
In the days of three-minute records, Jordan rarely had more than sixteen bars of solo time in Parker’s quintet or sextet sessions, but he invariably constructed short stories with beginnings, middles and endings, never filling the time with random improvisation. An example of his cogency is in the middle of “Quasimodo,” which happens to also be “Embraceable You” under the guise of an original Parker melody line. Both of those pieces are on this CD.
A prodigious composer, Jordan’s most famous piece is “Jordu,” a staple of the modern jazz repertoire. “No Problem” may be a close second. He wrote it for the sound track of Roger Vadim’s Les Liaisons Dangereuses. He was also the co-composer, as Jacques Marray, of the soundtrack for that 1959 film, with contributions by Thelonious Monk. After he moved to Copenhagen in 1978, Jordan recorded copiously as a leader and with Chet Baker, Doug Raney, Clifford Jordan and others.
The times I was privileged to be around him, Jordan was quiet, easy in his skin and earnest. He was the pianist for Sam Most’s 1976 album Mostly Flute, which had Tal Farlow on guitar, bassist Sam Jones and drummer Billy Higgins. In the liner notes, I recounted a recording session incident that typified Duke’s attitude.

“The More I See You” is taken at a bright medium-up tempo. Duke’s introduction recalls some of the gems he recorded with Parker, and he has one of the best solos of the date. In the control room, heads were shaking in admiration during this one, and afterward when Jordan walked in asking, “Was that all right?” everyone broke up.

Duke Jordan, dead at eighty-four.

Rifftides reader Mel Narunsky writes:

Now that I’ve had a chance to see the Monica Zetterlund & Bill Evans videos, I think that “Lucky To Be Me” was outstanding – and far superior to the “Waltz For Debby” effort which I’m sure they subsequently improved upon.
I have always thought that the Tony Bennett recording with Evans of “Waltz For Debby” is unbeatable if only (but not only) for the fact that they stick to 3/4 throughout (this is after all what a waltz really is). I’ve never found a recording by Evans himself that doesn’t go into 4/4.
The Zetterlund/Evans video of “Once Upon A Summertime” was also very good.

If you watch the YouTube video of “Lucky To Be Me” linked above, you will hear the music but see amateur shots of scenery. Here’s the explanation filed by the YouTube contributor, who identifies himself or herself as 60otaku.

Music and an image do not have a direct relation. Please understand the situation…(^^;) A chief aim is music to the last ! Personnel; Monica Zetterlund (vocal) Bill Evans (piano) Chuck Israels (bass) Larry Bunker (drums)

Steven Bernstein writes from New York regarding my piece in the July 27 Wall Street Journal about trumpeter Randy Sandke (You can read it here if you’re an online WSJ subscriber). He is concerned about my speculative aside that in Sandke’s Subway Ballet, Bernstein plays…”what may be this century’s first recorded solo on slide trumpet.”
“Thanks for a great article on Randy Sandke,” he says. “I wish more journalists would support this incredible musician.” Then he takes me to task.

Since you are a journalist/historian, I’d like to clarify a statement you made about the slide trumpet in the 21st century. I am a professional trumpeter /bandleader in NY for the last 25 years–started a band called Sex Mob 11 years ago in which I ONLY play the slide trumpet…..have played it on numerous cds, tv shows, movie soundtracks, dance pieces etc. There are two slide trumpet players in Europe (that I know of), Luca Bonvini and Axel Dorner….and a bunch of young kids out there inspired by me who are starting to play it. You might be interested in hearing Sex Mob. We play compositions ranging from “Blue and Sentimental” to “Nirvana” and lots in between. My 9-piece band the Millennial Territory Orchestra started off playing pieces by Tiny Parham and Cecil Scott and expanded out. Our debut CD was just released on Sunnyside.
So anyway, about 100 slide trumpet solos recorded this century, and it’s just starting…
Keep yer ears oiled
Sb

I just ordered a new bottle of oil.
This famous photograph of King Oliver’s Creole Jazz Band in 1923 shows Louis Armstrong playing a slide trumpet. His cornet, the instrument he most often used with the band, is in front of him.
The photographer arranged the group with wonderful symmetry, but it is unlikely that Johnny Dodds often performed seated on the piano in that excruciating posture. From left to right, Honoré Dutrey, Baby Dodds, King Oliver, Armstrong, Lil Hardin, Bill Johnson, Johnny Dodds. To hear Armstrong and Oliver in a complete performance of “Chimes Blues”, click here. The cornet solo is Armstrong’s, his first on record. The date was April 6, 1923.

Our Girl In Chicago, Terry Teachout’s partner in blog, reminds us that that yesterday was Philip Larkin’s birthday. I admire Larkin’s poetry more than his reactionary jazz criticism, so I celebrate him half enthusiastically. Nonetheless, it is a reason to call your attention to a Larkin poem we recently posted, along with one by Miller Williams, during the discussion of Tom Sancton’s book Song For My Fathers about growing up in New Orleans and in traditional jazz. If you missed it or would like to read it again, go here.

Jan Stevens, the proprietor of the Bill Evans Web Pages, wrote:

I enjoyed Marc Myers’s observations regarding the rare video of the late Danish vocalist Monica Zetterlund with Bill Evans, performing “Waltz for Debby”. Some clarifications: about two weeks after the October 1966 recording sessions for his Verve album, A Simple Matter of Conviction (the first one with Eddie Gomez on bass), Bill and Eddie departed for Scandanavia for several dates. Arnie Wise was on drums for Bill at the time, but he did not make the trip, so Alex Riel, a well-known Danish drummer, played. Riel had worked a few gigs with Bill before, and was then working in a most notable trio with pianist Kenny Drew and bassist Neils-Henning Orsted Pedrson. (There is another Evans trio video with Riel from this same tour, circulating on the Web.)
This rehearsal we see on the video was done on October 25, 1966, while preparing for the televised concert, a charity event at the Royal Theater in Copenhagen. As far as the late Ms. Zetterlund (who died in a fire on May 12, 2005 — see my page), Bill enjoyed her work very much, and was first impressed when he heard her own “Debby” version in 1964, entitled “Monica’s Vals”. When he subsequently did his first European in late summer of that year, his manager Helen Keane arranged for them to meet and they recorded the Waltz for Debby” album for the Phillips record label.
Bill always smoked Camels, but this is the only time I have ever seen him shown smoking a cigar!
Jan Stevens

Please note that a Bill Evans Web Pages link is now in the Other Places section of the right-hand column.

While I am meeting deadlines for writing that pays even more than Rifftides, why not have reader Marc Myers guide us to a fascinating video. He writes:

Talk about one of those video clips that just stops you cold: Go here and dig Monica Zetterlund and Bill Evans on “Waltz for Debby.”

This must have been a run-through for the record date. For my money, this is the definitive “Debby.” It’s brighter and more lyrical than the Vanguard sessions. And as you will see, Monica and Bill are both instantly absorbed by the moment–but in very different ways. Monica seems overwhelmed and somewhat stunned by the sheer beauty of Bill’s playing. Bill appears to be both distracted and in love with the sound of Monica’s interpretation–so much so that he turns away to fully absorb it. Watch Monica’s facial expressions and twitches as she milks the beauty of this song. And who knew Bill dug cigars?

Two interesting moments: About halfway through, Monica either forgets the words or is fooled by Bill’s comping–but still manages to work her way out of it smoothly. Also, the midsection where Bill transitions from straight 3/4 time to a swinging waltz, it’s hard to tell if this was Monica’s idea, signaling Bill that she was comfortable enough to handle the improv, or Bill’s “chart.” I always thought from the recording that this transition was Bill’s doing. Now I’m not so sure. Fascinating.

At the end, it’s hard to tell if Bill was displeased by Monica’s quasi-casual treatment or blown away by it. And when it’s over, both seem to want each other’s praise but neither gives it up. But Bill’s definitely moved. At any rate, there’s a whole lot going on here. What was Bill’s impression of Monica? Did he take her seriously?

Marc Myers
NYC

Unfortunately, we won’t have the answers to those questions from them. They’re both gone. It seems unlikely that this was a rehearsal for the album. Eddie Gomez is the bassist in the video clip. Chuck Israels, who preceded Gomez in the trio, played bass on the album, which was recorded in 1964. Larry Bunker was the drummer. Gomez joined Evans in 1966. We don’t see the drummer in the YouTube video. Nor is he identified.

The record date to which Mr. Myers refers resulted in this album, which seems to be available singly only as an import. It is also part of the eighteen-CD box set The Complete Bill Evans on Verve. That is the wonderful collection infamous for its packaging–a rusty steel box containing another rusty steel box with swing-out sleeves holding the CDs. Verve should have offered a tetanus shot with each one. The Vanguard sessions are the famous Sunday at the Village Vanguard, a sublime live recording of the 1961 Evans trio with bassist Scott LaFaro and drummer Paul Motian .

It was a weekend of contrasts. I reread All Quiet on the Western Front, recovered from it on a long road bike trek that began with a one-mile climb up a steep grade (I refuse to submit to a testosterone exam), picked a few quarts of blackberries and played in a jam session in which, at one point, the rhythm section consisted of three guitars. That was a new and uplifting experience.
Now, it’s time to get serious. I’m on deadline for an essay to accompany a Thelonious Monk collection in the Riverside Profiles series. Blogging will be in the back of my mind, but that’s where it will have to stay for today and, possibly, tomorrow. Have a good Monday.

Too many pieces of music finish too long after the end.

– Igor Stravinsky

You might try taking the horn out of your mouth.

– Miles Davis, after John Coltrane said he found it difficult to play short solos

The new book and DVD recommendations are finally in place under Doug’s Picks in the right-hand column. I stretched the DVD category to make you aware of a discovery. I doubt that you’ll be sorry.

Readers have asked why Rifftides does not allow comments to be posted directly. I want the opportunity to review comments and, when it feels right, to respond to them in context and with editorial discretion. It has developed, as I thought it would, that Rifftides readers are not inclined to inititiate the kinds of shouting matches that infect too many web sites, so that has never been a worry. But there is another reason: spam. About half of the alleged comments that I receive are spam. If I allowed them to pop up unsupervised, you would be seeing random insults from web trawlers, pitches for ringtones and viagra and opportunities for a wide variety of personal services from members of all of the sexes. Not on this weblog, folks.
The Rifftides staff encourages you to send comments, whether or not they are about something you’ve seen here . They may end up in the comments section at the end of an item, as part of a posting in the main section or, rarely, on the cutting room floor. You may send a message to the e-mail address in the upper right-hand column or click on the “Comments” link at the end of an item. Please do.

Rifftides reader Marc Myers writes from New York City about the Louis Armstrong video mentioned yesterday:

Fabulous clip of Pops in the 1930s! Pure joy. Two observations: The band appears to be integrated, which is strange if this is indeed the early 1930s. In addition, none of the musicians is reading music. Was this for the sake of filming or simply for added novelty? Clearly, Louis must have rehearsed this group to death to execute
perfectly without charts.

The film was shot during a 1933-34 Armstrong European tour in which he augmented his band with local musicians. I’m fairly certain that “Dinah” and “I Cover the Waterfront” were filmed in Sweden. As for reading music, the arrangements, which were simple background riffs, hardly required it once the musicians had played them a couple of times. Here’s a second installment.
And, since the maestro is on our minds, we may as well take a look at a segment from the 1956 film Satchmo the Great. The narrator is Edward R. Murrow.

Louis Armstrong liked to tell people, and may have believed, that he was born on the Fourth of July, 1900. Given the circumstances of his family and of the rough part of New Orleans he came from, it is not unlikely that civic records were haphazard. Twelve years after Armstrong died in 1971, research turned up a baptismal certicate proving–or at least strongly indicating–that he was actually born on August 4, 1901, 106 years ago today. This film, made when he was riding high on success with his first big band, is a good way to celebrate and remember a great man.
Artsjournal.com colleague Terry Teachout is working on a biography of Armstrong. In an interview for one of the international programs websites of the US State Department, Terry does a fine job of summarizing Armstrong’s importance. You may read it here.

Speaking of colleagues, in case you haven’t heard the news about guitarist Jim Hall’s latest honor, there is no one better to tell you than his proud daughter Devra, aka the blogger DevraDowrite.
Congratulations to both.

August 3, 2006

Deborah Hendrick read the comment about Bix Beiderbecke having been a cornetist, not a trumpeter, and asks:

As part of my continuing education, why would a musician choose a trumpet over a cornet, or the other way around?

Experts on brass instruments have written volumes on that question. Following my non-voluminous answer, I’ll give you links to further information.

The trumpet’s tubing is elongated and relatively straight until it reaches the flare of the bell. That gives the instrument volume and brilliance. The cornet’s tubing is tightly wound compared to that of the trumpet, resulting in more air resistance when the player blows into the horn. Its tubing is conical, growing bigger around as it approaches the bell. Taken together, those two factors give the cornet a mellower, softer sound than the trumpet’s. Trumpets predominate these days in orchestras and bands, but through the last half of the nineteenth century and well into the twentieth, the cornet was king. It was developed by the Frenchman J.B. Arban, who literally wrote the book on how to play it. Arban’s Complete Conservatory Method is still the cornetist’s, and trumpeter’s, bible.

John Philip Sousa and Herbert L. Clarke, disciples of Arban, were virtuoso cornetists who led famous brass bands and further influenced the popularity of the instrument. When jazz came along, cornet was the default lead brass instrument in the early New Orleans bands, as it was in Chicago and New York in the 1920s and into the thirties. Louis Armstrong and Bix Beiderbecke were cornetists. My guess is that Armstrong switched to trumpet because when he organized his big band around 1930, he wanted to project more, but his great early recordings were on cornet. Beiderbecke, to my knowledge, played cornet exclusively. Many great jazz players thought of as trumpeters were, in fact, cornetists, among them Bobby Hackett, Rex Stewart, Ruby Braff, Jimmy McPartland, Wild Bill Davison, Nat Adderley and, often, Thad Jones. They preferred the cornet’s fluency and intimacy. Few modern trumpet players also play the cornet, but many double on flugelhorn, which can achieve similar, but not identical, mellowness. Committed cornetists are passionate in their love for the instrument, witness this quote from a player named Mike Trager.

I equate my cornet with a good-natured golden retriever and my trumpet with a vicious Doberman pinscher.

Left to right, you see flugelhorn, trumpet, cornet and piccolo trumpet and, in front, assorted mutes. The flugelhorn and the piccolo trumpet here are the four-valve variety. You know what I say about that? It’s hard enough to play three valves. I’ll leave well enough alone. But I wish I had my old cornet back. Maybe I’ll prowl the pawn shops.

If you want to go deeper into the arcania of brass instruments in the soprano range, see this essay, and this discussion with Michael Fitzgerald on the Organissimo website.

An alert reader of my Wall Street Journal piece about trumpeter Randy Sandke sent the following message:

I read your article mentioning the Beiderbecke Festival in The Wall Street Journal. I enjoyed the reading, but I felt compelled to clear up a point. Seems like you referred to “Davenport, Iowa, the classic trumpeter’s hometown.” I don’t believe that Bix Beiderbecke ever played a trumpet. He was a cornetist, not a trumpeter. Not a biggee, but what the heck. It’s interesting the impact the Midwest has had on music. Glenn Miller’s hometown was Clarinda, Iowa. And there have been others as well.
Craig Peterson
Santa Monica, CA
Born in McGregor, Iowa, and raised in Mason City, Iowa (AKA River City, Iowa)

Mr. Peterson is correct. I regret the error.

I had just sat down to write a tribute to Hank Jones on his 88th birthday when I was alerted to a column about Hank by Mark Stryker in the Detroit Free Press. I may flatter myself that I know and understand a great deal about the elegant Mr. Jones, but on my best day I could not improve on what Stryker wrote. I wish Hank a happy birthday and enthusiastically recommend that you read Stryker’s article. Here’s a sample:

Jones’ marriage of grace and guts created the template for a school of modern jazz pianists from Detroit — he was later followed by Tommy Flanagan, Barry Harris and Roland Hanna — and his often overlooked influence has seeped into the bloodstream of jazz.
“His style is as profound and defined as any of the major masters,” says (Bill) Charlap. “It’s equal to Teddy Wilson, equal to Bill Evans, equal to Thelonious Monk, equal to Tommy Flanagan. It’s as much a unique musical utterance and just as balanced in terms of intellectualism and feeling.
“With Hank Jones you hear the past, present and the future of jazz piano.”

To read the whole thing, go here.
All I will add to Mark’s list of recommended Jones albums is a suggestion that you also listen to Second Nature if you can find it on, say, eBay. It is a double-LP Savoy package that contains the 1956 quintet session vibraharpist Milt Jackson made with Jones, tenor saxophonist Lucky Thompson, bassist Wendell Marshall and drummer Kenny Clarke. Jackson and Jones created magic together, and this was a glorious example of it. Short of Second Nature, a fair sampling of the session’s tracks are on the Jackson CD called Jackson’s Ville.