Archives for November 2011

From Washington, DC, comes news that pianist Jason Moran will be the late Billy Taylor’s successor as the Kennedy Center’s artistic adviser for jazz. From the center’s release announcing the appointment:

Moran hopes to expand the accessibility that was so important to Taylor, in part by emphasizing that music, and especially jazz, can be fun.

“ ‘Fun’ is not a very intellectual term,” he says, “but I think people like good music, people enjoy good drinks and good food, people like to move, I think people like to laugh. So, I’m really looking for ways in which, through intellectual and investigative music, we can get these feelings to occur.”

Speaking of the nation’s capitol and fun (it does exist there, away from Pennsylvania Avenue and Capitol Hill), trombonist, singer, recording artist and Wall Street Journal columnist Eric Felten and his big band have been popular for years in Washington, DC. They summon up living memories of the time when big bands were woven into the nation’s social fabric, and going to dances was entertainment for millions. Felten and company wrapped up the Kennedy Center’s “Swing, Swing, Swing” festival last Friday night with the piquant singer Nellie McKay as featured guest. The center has posted a generous video sampling of the proceedings—more than an hour. Felten, one of the best trombonists in jazz, played too few solos, but he sings well, the band is good and the customers were eager to use the dance floor laid down for the occasion. To see and hear the fun, go here (don’t click on the arrow in that little picture to your right; it’s not the video).

And listen to that bass player. His name is Michael Bowie.

In proportion to his talent, there is too little Bill Kirchner on record. The saxophonist, composer and arranger has taken digital steps to make more of his music available as MP3 downloads. Two albums present him in contrasting settings. The first, One Starry Night, finds him in concert in Chicago in 1987 with his nonet—one of the finest mid-sized bands in jazz. His guest vocalist is Sheila Jordan, whose daring and musicality are at a peak here, notably on “You’d Be So Nice to Come Home to.” Such prominent players as trumpeter Brian Lynch, tenor saxophonist Ralph LaLama and bassist Mike Richmond negotiate Kirchner’s demanding and satisfying ensemble writing and are stimulated to first-rate improvisation. The title of Old Friends (2008) describes Kirchner’s relationship with pianist Marc Copland, whose harmonic resourcefulness and reactive listening make him an inspirational accompanist. As a soloist, Copland’s ease of execution in this collection of duets is deceptive. He and Kirchner, playing soprano saxophone, interact with spontaneity and freshness that belie the challenges they set themselves. They explore at length standard songs, and originals by Johnny Mandel, Wayne Shorter and Miles Davis. Kirchner is particularly evocative in Shorter’s “Footprints.”

The internet has made it easier for film makers to go public in an effort to get funding for their efforts. Independent producers are raising money for projects about two jazz musicians, one long gone and still influential, the other very much alive, intrepid and controversial.

Kevin Mingus, a grandson of Charles Mingus, proposes a film about the bassist, bandleader and composer, whom he never met. The fund-raising website for the film describes it:

Surrounded by controversy for his polemic actions and his unpredictability, the enigmatic figure of his grandfather became a jazz icon. The documentary opens doors to unknown facets of a composer who left one of the largest musical legacies of 20th Century American music. It is the path of his grandson, looking at the life of his grandfather through the eyes of those he touched and inspired, and through the locations where he lived and composed his art. The film rediscovers both, the man and the artist: Charles Mingus.

For more about the film and the fund-raising, and to see a trailer, go here.

Co-producers Matthew Shipp and Barb Januskiewicz are working to fund The Composer, a film about Shipp, the energetic avant garde pianist. Its website describes the film as an “innovative art/music fusion project about hope, creative vision and its extraordinary spiritual power of music. No words, no conversations only sounds and music… with a surprise ending!” The film’s co-star, we are told, will be Shipp’s Fazioli piano.

The Fazioli and Shipp make an iconic pair: one of the most renowned jazz pianists playing on the most exquisitively crafted piano; contemporary jazz music pouring out of an elegant, unique vessel with a clear, pristine sound. The spotlight is shared between the two equally. Shipp’s spellbinding skill emanates from the piano, which serves as both his inspiration and his mode of expression.

Learn more and see a promotional video at the website.

Here is one of the octogenarians listed in the comments section of the Rifftides Going Like 80 (+) item that has attracted so much attention: Drummer Kenny Dennis (81) with pianist Llew Matthews and bassist Mike Gurrola in concert in Los Angeles in 2010.

“When Will the Blues Leave?” Ornette Coleman asked the question in 1958 by way of the title of a piece in his first album. In Chicago, of all places—the blues stronghold of the Midwest for nearly a century—the question is implied in concerns of musicians and club owners who are trying to keep the form alive economically. In a long weekend piece in The Chicago Tribune, music critic Howard Reich surveys the blues club scene in the Windy City.

How long can a music that long flourished on the South and West sides — where the blues originators lived their lives and performed their songs — stay viable when most of the neighborhood clubs have expired? How long can a black musical art form remain dynamic when presented to a largely white audience in settings designed to replicate and merchandise the real thing?

Reich’s story has several photo and video sidebars that make it a sort of mini-documentary. To read (and view) the whole thing, go here.

Why didn’t I think of this when I posted the Going Like 80 (+) item a few days ago? [See November 23, below.]

I just added Jim Hall and Bill Smith to the original list. It is accumulating a near-record number of comments.

Just when I thought the cycling season had succumbed to the weather, came a perfect day; temperature in the low forties, hardly any wind chill factor—nothing that couldn’t be overcome with five layers on top, two layers below, ear muffs, gloves and a foam grommet for the sunglasses. Here is some of what I saw that made the ride worthwhile despite all of that stuff.

Referring to the “Going Like 80 (+)” post of November 23, Rifftides reader Ned Corman writes:

And, of course, Paul would have been 87, if I have it right.

Yes, he was born on Thanksgiving, November 25, 1924. It has become a Rifftides tradition to observe the occasion. Lamenting Paul’s absence, one of Desmond’s favorite playing and socializing partners, Jim Hall, once said that he would have been a great old man. That makes sense; he was a great young man. Dave Brubeck said, “Boy, I sure miss Paul Desmond.”
I found this photograph among Desmond’s belongings and included it in his biography. Undated, probably from the late 1950s, it shows Paul and Duke Ellington chatting at the railing of a ship. Where they were bound, I have been unable to discover. Remembering both, let’s watch and listen to Desmond as he solos with the classic Brubeck Quartet on Ellington’s “Take the ‘A’ Train.” This was at the University of Rome in 1959.

Now, here’s Desmond with his own quartet from the Pure Desmond album (1974), with Ellington’s “Warm Valley.” Ed Bickert, guitar; Ron Carter, bass; Connie Kay, drums.

Brubeck’s not alone; boy, I sure miss Paul Desmond.

The past few days, Rifftides has been unavoidably concerned with deaths and with musicians aged 80 or older. Am I the only one ready for an infusion of youth? Grace Kelly, born in 1992, may not be an elected representative of the talented teenagers in jazz, but she gets the nod here because for several years she has been playing well and developing steadily, and I just saw her new video, and it made me feel good. See if it has the same effect on you.

To see and hear Ms. Kelly in action with an ageless man, consult this Rifftides item from earlier this year.

This is an important national holiday in the United States. To Americans observing it, the Rifftides staff sends wishes for a happy Thanksgiving. To readers around the world: we are thankful for your interest, attendance and comments.

Rifftides reader Harris Meyer called my attention to a National Public Radio story about major musical achievements of two men on this date in 1936. In their genres, they could hardly have been more different. What they had in common was greatness.

Here is the lead paragraph of the NPR item:

Nov. 23, 1936, was a good day for recorded music. Two men, an ocean apart, each stepped up to a microphone and began to play. One was a cello prodigy who had performed for the queen of Spain; the other was a guitar player in the juke joints of the Mississippi Delta. But on that day, Pablo Casals and Robert Johnson each made recordings that would change music history.

The story incorporates audio of Johnson’s blues and Casals playing Bach. You will find it here.

Rifftides reader Mark Mohr writes:

Sad about Motian, he was definitely one of a kind. Who else is still playing at 80?

Off the top of my head (more or less):

Phil Woods (80)

Ira Sullivan (80)

Ornette Coleman (81)

Richard Davis (81)

Jim Hall (81)

Bill Henderson (81)

Annie Ross (81)

Frank Strazzeri (81

Barry Harris (82)

Ernestine Anderson (83)

Junior Mance (83)

Bill Crow (84)

Dick Hyman (84)

Lee Konitz (84)

Martial Solal (84)

Jimmy Heath (85)

Med Flory (85)

Bill (William O.) Smith (85)

Eddie Duran (86)

Dave Pell (86)

Chico Hamilton (90)

Jon Hendricks (90)

Dave Brubeck (91)

Marian McPartland (93)

There must be others.

This just in:

WKCR, the radio station of Columbia University in New York City, will broadcast 24 hours of Paul Motian’s music beginning at midnight tonight (EST). The station is at 89.9 on the FM dial and streams at this site on the internet. To hear it, click under “Live Broadcast” in the upper right corner of the page.

It was never my intention that Rifftides be a vehicle for so much bad news, but the losses keep mounting. When a musician of Paul Motian’s importance dies, we must take notice. The great drummer succumbed to a bone marrow ailment early this morning in a New York hospital. He was 80.

Motian and pianist Bill Evans were colleagues from their days together in the Jerry Wald band in the mid-1950 and later in clarinetist Tony Scott’s quartet. When Evans formed a trio that would turn out to influence the course of jazz, he chose Motian as his drummer. With bassist Scot LaFaro, they made some of the most influential recordings of the second half of the 20th century. Motian went on to play in another significant group led by a pianist, Keith Jarrett. He collaborated with a wide cross-section of the most accomplished musicians of his time and became a leader of his own band that featured, among others, guitarist Bill Frisell and saxophonist Joe Lovano.

In a Wall Street Journal appreciation of Motian last July, Larry Blumenfeld wrote:

Mr. Motian is both a peaceful presence and a locus of swirling power. A few cymbal strikes are all he needs to indicate velocity and flow. He employs moments of silence with equal emphasis as bass-drum kicks. He distills jazz’s pulses into pithy implication through rhythmic phrases that sound personal. By now, he is both eminence and enigma: Everyone wants to play with him; no one can play like him.

To read the entire article, go here. In an e-mail message this morning, Larry wrote:

Motian was a real person. The kind you need to meet and sit with a while to understand. And then you get up and leave, feeling better and wiser in ways you can’t yet process. Motian didn’t want to meet with me for the July Cultural Conversation piece I wrote about him for The Wall Street Journal back in July. His stalwart and wonderful publicist, Tina Pelikan, finessed my way in. Motian told me up front how unhappy he was with his decision to do another interview. (“What haven’t I said yet?”) Then, two hours later, I could scarcely get him to stop his soft-spoken, stop-start, painterly flow of words, which were not entirely unlike his drumming.

Motian’s mastery of time and his nexus of subtlety and power gave him the flexibility to be equally effective in free jazz and structured music. Here, he leads his 5-Tet at the North Sea Jazz Festival in Holland in 1995 with Frisell, Lovano, alto saxophonist Lee Konitz and bassist Marc Johnson.

JazzTimes.com has a comprehensive obituary.

Funeral or memorial service arrangements for Motian have not been announced.

Here’s a YouTube clip that is no doubt going to show up on every jazz blog and website in the world. I certainly don’t want Rifftides to be left out. Thanks to record producer extraordinaire (retired) Dick LaPalm for calling it to our attention.

The fund-raising effort to aid composer, arranger, trumpeter and bandleader Jim Knapp is progressing slowly. Knapp recently lost his right foot and part of his lower leg in an operation to combat diabetes. In a message, he writes, “My recovery is going well. I have a prosthesis now, so I am bipedal again.” His financial recuperation is less stable. Friends and fellow musicians headed by saxophonist Steve Griggs have set a goal of $30,000 to defray Knapp’s medical expenses, which far exceed his insurance coverage. A performance of Knapp’s music earlier this month helped, but Griggs reports that the total is $4,485, more than $25,000 short of the target. He and his group have set up a donation website here.

The benefit concert November 2 at Seattle’s Triple Door included this performance of “Secular Breathing,” the title piece of a 2003 Knapp album. The soloists are Mark Taylor, Steve Treseler and Stuart MacDonald, tenor saxophones; John Hansen, piano; and Jon Hamar, bass.

The other members of the Knapp Orchestra were Jim Dejoie, baritone saxophone; Jay Thomas, Brad Allison and Vern Sielert, trumpets; Tom Varner, French horn; Jeff Hay and Chris Stover, trombones; and Matt Jorgensen, drums.

In his Jazz Profiles blog, Steve Cerra’s stock in trade is—logically enough— profiles of musicians. He copiously illustrates them with photographs, album covers and sound clips and often adds personal reflections or anecdotes to enrich the mix. The lead story that Steve put up today is about the late tenor and soprano saxophonist Lucky Thompson.

Thompson worked in the 1940s and ‘50s in Dizzy Gillespie’s sextet and with the big bands of Billy Eckstine, Tom Talbert and Count Basie. Hank Jones, Oscar Pettiford and Milt Jackson were among the colleagues who cherished their relationship with Thompson. He made a notable impact on Benny Golson in the early 1950s as Golson formed his style. Half a century later, the young saxophonist Chris Byars adopted Thompson as his model. Go here for the Jazz Profiles post, which includes Steve’s album cover photo essay to the tune of a gorgeous Thompson ballad. It also has Bob Porter’s informative notes about Thompson.

While you’re visiting Cerraville, if you scroll down the left-hand column you will eventually come to Steve’s recent posting of an essay I wrote some time ago to accompany the Time Signatures box of CDs tracing Dave Brubeck’s career from his college days to the 1990s. It has a lot of reading and a lot of pictures.

For video of Lucky Thompson in action in Paris in the late 1950s, see this Rifftides archive piece.

Reacting to the Norman Granz item in the following exhibit, Alan Broadbent writes:

I’m sure you and your readers must be aware of this precious film, but for the record here it is. Is it from the legendary Granz vault?

Yes. Granz produced, wrote and narrated the film In 1950. He titled it Improvisation. The photographer was Gjon Mili, who had collaborated with Granz six years earlier on the short subject Jammin’ The Blues. The players recorded the music in advance. For the filming, they synchronized fingering and breathing to match the recorded track—some with greater success than others. The synching efforts seem to account for the amusement among the musicians. This cast of players is typical of those Granz assembled for his Jazz At The Philharmonic concerts.

Collective personnel: Charlie Parker, 
Coleman Hawkins, Hank Jones, Ray Brown, Buddy Rich, Bill Harris, Lester Young, Harry Edison, Flip Phillips, Ella Fitzgerald.

That clip, outtakes and a good deal of subsidiary material, exist on this DVD.

Tadd Hershorn’s biography of Norman Granz (see Doug’s Picks in the right-hand column) is full of instances of the mental acuity and toughness that helped see the promoter and record executive through countless challenging situations as he presented jazz and fought discrimination. He had a memory that was legendary among the musicians he worked with. Here is a story not in Hershorn’s book.

When I was a college student in Seattle in the 1950s, I became acquainted with Percy Heath, the bassist of the Modern Jazz Quartet. Following a Jazz At The Philharmonic Concert, Heath asked me to accompany him to a party at the home of a buddy from his days as a World War Two pilot in the Tuskegee Airmen. I met Heath and Ray Brown in the lobby of their hotel. As we were preparing to leave for the party, Granz walked by. Percy introduced me to him. We all chatted for perhaps 30 seconds, the impresario, two famous musicians and an anonymous student.

Flash forward. In the 1980s when I was living in San Francisco, I went to hear Dizzy Gillespie in the Venetian Room at the Fairmont Hotel. After his last set, I went backstage to greet Dizzy. As we talked, I noticed a figure seated at a table in the shadow of one of the ballroom curtains. Dizzy said, “Come over here and say hello to a friend of mine.” The friend, I saw, was Norman Granz, whom I had met just that once, in passing, in 1956. As Dizzy spoke my name, Granz said, “Oh, yes, we met in Seattle.”

For more on Granz, here’s a video that popped up on YouTube a few months ago. Described as a “taster,” it is apparently a promo for a documentary, but I have been able to learn no details about the full program.

Not that I’d dream of turning Rifftides into an educational institution, but here’s a chance to learn from a great pianist as he plays and talks about his music. Over the years, Dick Cavett has hosted his show on six networks. These two clips come from his period with the Public Broadcasting Service, 1977-1982, long before PBS began dumbing down its prime time programming with vapid fund-raising specials. But I digress.

Here, Cavett’s guest was Oscar Peterson (1925-2007). The first video recently showed up on the web and has been seen by few viewers. It is of marginal video quality but acceptable in the audio department. It has the standard promotional sildes with which Pedro Mendes starts and ends all of the videos he puts up. But who’s complaining; he puts them up. The second clip—crisp and clear—is a YouTube hit seen by more than 140,000 surfers. It continues the conversation. This is OP with Cavett in 1979.

Have a good weekend.

Kenny Burrell has joined the parade of major jazz artists entering octogenarianism and performing at a high level. The guitarist is of a generation of Detroit musicians including Tommy Flanagan, Pepper Adams, Elvin Jones, Roland Hanna and Louis Hayes that made a significant impact on jazz. Burrell’s 80th birthday was a week ago. He is preparing for a concert next weekend. Here’s more from a Scott Zimberg profile of the guitarist in The Los Angeles Times:

Part of what’s kept Burrell afloat over the years is musical focus. Music, he says, “has to be a balance between heart and mind. The thing is to not let your technique or your analytical side overshadow your feelings. There’s one more thing you’ve gotta do — you’ve got to be consistent. That takes work, it takes concentration, it takes focus, it takes dedication.”

He’s often praised for qualities like taste, discipline and aversion to musical cliché. “I sometimes think that phrasing is a lost art in jazz, and perhaps especially among guitarists,” Gioia says. “But Burrell knows how to shape a phrase, where to place the proper emphasis, how to construct a solo. He has unerring instincts — like a great boxer, who has a feel for the right move at the right moment.”

Burrell sees jazz soloing as a conversation between musician and listener. “If I was talking too fast, or not taking breaths, not giving you time to take it in — it would not get across very well.”

To him, the blues — which can lead lesser players to volubility — is about understatement. Music begins and ends with silence, he says. “In between, it’s up to you. You should make a statement. And when you’ve made your statement — which should be important to you, you should mean it — you should stop.”

To read all of Timberg’s article, which traces Burrell’s career, go here.

Burrell appeared on Japanese Television in 1990, with bassist Bob Magnusson and drummer Sherman Ferguson, playing Duke Pearson’s “Jeannine.”