Geri Allen & Timeline, Live (Motéma). Allen’s considerable strengths are on display in the pianist’s recording with her trio and a percussive guest. She integrates dancer Maurice Chestnut’s steely tapping with the time-keeping and soloing of her gifted young sidemen, drummer Kassa Overall and bassist Kenny Davis. Chestnut expands on the tradition established by Savion Glover and—long before—dancers like Baby Laurence who accommodated themselves to bebop. The crowds at the Oberlin Conservatory and Reed College concerts go wild at the exhilaration worked up by Chestnut and Overall. There is no denying the excitement of what they witnessed. It comes across even when one merely hears Chestnut in action. Near the end of Allen’s “Philly Joe,” the drummer and the dancer neatly encapsulate some of the licks the great drummer Philly Joe Jones inherited from his hero Sidney Catlett. It is impressive and somehow amusing to hear Chestnut dance the melody of Charlie Parker’s “Ah-Leu-Cha.”
It can be argued that the tapping, for all its bracing novelty, eventually becomes too much of a good thing. Allen’s playing more than compensates. It is a reminder of her high rank among the pianists of her generation who succeeded Bill Evans, McCoy Tyner and Herbie Hancock. Aside from her inspirational role in the rhythmic energy of the album, with Chestnut sitting out she has supremely lyrical moments in Mal Waldron’s “Soul Eyes” and an unaccompanied impressionistic treatment of Gershwin’s “Embraceable You.” She is firm in her own style but nonetheless manages to suggest Tyner’s power in his signature composition “Four by Five.”
At the summit of recorded collaborations between a tap dancer and a jazz band, this album may not supplant the 1952 sessions of Fred Astaire with Oscar Peterson, but it rewards repeated hearings. I recommend it for the substance of Allen’s playing and the quality of her trio. Chestnut’s tap dancing is a bonus.

The man who may well be the world’s oldest performing jazz musician is approaching his 99th birthday. Befitting a man nearly the age of the music itself, he’s from New Orleans. Lionel Ferbos was born July 17, 1911. He played trumpet in the 1920s with bands led by Walter “Fats” Pichon and Sidney Desvigne and in the 1930s with Harold Dejan and the quintessential New Orleans alto saxophonist Captain John Handy. In demand for his reading ability and lead playing, Ferbos is the trumpeter in the New Orleans Ragtime Orchestra, a band founded by guitarist and clarinetist Lars Edegran in 1967. He plays regularly at the Palm Court Café on Decatur Street. The Palm Court is planning a bash for him on his birthday.

This video produced last year by the New Orleans Times-Picayune‘s John McCusker traces Ferbos’s career. I am going to make every effort to adapt Ferbos’s concluding advice about how to insure a long life and a long marriage.

Benny Powell, the veteran trombonist, died last Saturday in New York. Born in New Orleans, Powell was treasured by his colleagues as a superb musician and teacher and as a gentleman who observed old-South standards of courtesy and consideration.
Among the bands that Powell graced were those of Count Basie, Thad Jones and Mel Lewis, Bill Holman, Benny Goodman, Duke Pearson and Terry Gibbs. Here he is playing the blues in the company of a few of his admiring colleagues: Dizzy Gillespie and Harry “Sweets” Edison (tp), Clark Terry (flh), James Moody and Buddy Tate (ts), Gene Harris (p), Freddie Green (g), Ray Brown (b), Grady Tate (d). Powell has the first solo in this excerpt from a festival in Switzerland in 1985.

Go here for a video montage that captures Benny Powell in several of his roles. DevraDoWrite has news of plans for his services.

As always, the Rifftides staff is trying to keep up with new releases. It can’t be done; the inflow never ceases and listening time is at a premium, but in the next few days we’ll alert you to a few.
Linda Ciofalo, Dancing With Johnny (Lucky Jazz Music). The dancing partner of the title is Johnny Mercer. Ciofalo applies her smooth, rangy voice and flexible phrasing to some of his best-known lyrics. She interprets Mercer beautifully, capturing the joy and irony he intended in “Tangerine,” the ache in “Early Autumn” the tenderness of “I Remember You” and—throughout—the essences of 13 Mercer songs. Pianist John DiMartino heads the excellent rhythm section, which applies occasional Latin or rockish touches. On some tracks, trumpeter Bryan Lynch and saxophonist Joel Frahm provide ensemble support and superb solos. Melisma slightly overburdens some of Ciofalo’s vowels. The drummer is heavy on the backbeat in spots. Those are minor distractions. This is a theme album worthy of its inspiration.

Rifftides reader Dave Bernard sent this inquiry:

What did muenster-dummel mean on the Norgran record jackets?

For those born after the LP era, the terms may draw a blank. Norgran was one of two labels founded by Norman Granz (1918-2001), who created Jazz At The Philharmonic in the 1940s. His other early label was Clef. Norgran and Clef eventually morphed ino Verve. Granz was a pioneer of the jazz concert and a tough, resourceful businessman. He guided the careers of Ella Fitzgerald and Oscar Peterson. He was an unyielding champion of racial equality. On JATP tours he fought back against bigoted bookers, promoters and police—and won. His mien was often dour. Whitney Balliett once wrote that he had “bullying eybrows.”
Still, as Dan Morgenstern observed when we were discussing Granz yesterday, “Norman was not without a sense of humor.” Granz found pretentiousness in the hifalutin’ hype that record companies ground out about high fidelity, so he concocted a phrase that ended up on the covers of his Norgran and Clef albums.

Jack Dummel was Granz’s favorite recording engineer. Muenster was his favorite cheese.
Looking around the internet for related information, I came across this audiophile chat list entry from a record collector excited about finding an old Billie Holiday album:

I found this gem at goodwill today. It needs some more cleaning but sounds pretty good. It says at the top-right Muenster-Dummel hi fi recording so I’m thinking it is a German recording.

Norman might have managed a smile.

James Moody, 4B (IPO). According to the evidence on this CD due for release in early August, Moody at 85 is undiminished in energy, endurance, chops and harmonic imagination. In the companion to last year’s 4A, the winner of the JJA’s 2010 lifetime achievement award moves at deliberate speed— swinging—through jazz and standard classics including “Take The ‘A’ Train,” “Hot House,” “But Not For Me,” “Bye Bye Blackbird” as a waltz, and compositions by Kenny Barron and Todd Coolman. Barron, on piano, and bassist Coolman reconstitute two thirds of Moody’s superb 1980s rhythm section. The impeccable Lewis Nash is the drummer. Nash’s solo on “Take the ‘A’ Train” is a highlight. All hands get plenty of solo time. Throughout, Moody plays the tenor saxophone, his preferred horn. The proceeding has the air of a high-level jam session. That is a compliment. As usual with Moody, joy predominates.

Fred Anderson, who exemplified the Chicago avant garde as a tenor saxophonist and as a club owner gave it work, has died at 81. The Chicago Tribune‘s Howard Reich followed Anderson’s career. He writes in the newspaper:

His was a rigorous, demanding brand of jazz improvisation that bridged the bebop idiom of Charlie Parker (an Anderson hero) with the “free jazz” experiments of the 1960s and thereafter. The fast-flying phrases and blues-driven energy of bebop converged with the non-chordal, anything-goes song structures of “free jazz” in Anderson’s best work.
Whenever Anderson held the stage, he famously leaned forward a bit, unleashing torrents of notes, one phrase cascading atop another, solos often unfolding over a Herculean 20 minutes or more. Even at his 81st birthday show, last March at his beloved Velvet Lounge, the man packed an avalanche of ideas into every soliloquy.

Reich’s obituary of Anderson includes a video interview. To read it, go here.
This brief, rather disjointed, promotional video for his Timeless DVD gives you Anderson playing at his beloved Velvet Lounge and talking about his early career.

Tom Varner, Heaven and Hell (Omnitone). When Varner moved from New York to Seattle in 2005, he left behind none of his French horn virtuosity, compositional skill or avant-garde daring. Heaven and Hell is his meditation on changes in the world and in his life since the 9/11 attack, and on the evolution of his approach to music. The 15-part suite reflects a sensibility that is at home with the influences of, among others, Gil Evans and his fellow arrangers for the Miles Davis nonet, Stravinsky, Ligeti, Mingus and—in a startling segment titled “Birds and Thirds”—the power of triadic ensemble chord voicings that might have come straight from Brahms.
Varner’s lapidary skill in the written sections is complemented by interludes of collective free improvisation connecting the principle movements. Throughout, in addition to the strength of Varner’s audacious French horn, there are superior interpretation and improvisation from trumpeter Russ Johnson; trombonist Chris Stover; clarinetist Jesse Canterbury; saxophonists Saul Cline, Hans Teuber, Mark Taylor, Eric Barber and Jim DeJoie; bassist Phil Sparks; and drummer Byron Vannoy. Johnson is a New Yorker. All of the others are from Seattle. Their excellence emphasizes one of the underground secrets in jazz; the rainy city is one of today’s strongholds of adventuresome creativity.
Among the many highlights is Sparks’ and Vannoy’s bass/drum conversation in “The Trilling Clouds,” with the typically reserved Sparks going farther out than I have ever before heard him. Another is the saxophone pas de trois among Teuber, Taylor and Barber in “Waltz for the Proud Tired Worriers.” Strategically placed in solo and ensemble is Varner’s astonishing horn, featuring one of the most capacious low registers ever heard on the instrument. The ache and agony expressed in Varner’s composing and the soloists’ statements in “Structure Down” are at the heart of the work. This music, in all of its starkness and loveliness, should be heard as a continuum. Taken piecemeal, it would lose its cumulative impact.

The following news release arrived late yesterday:
The National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) today announced the recipients of the 2011 NEA Jazz Masters Award–the nation’s highest honor in this distinctly American music. For the first time in the program’s 29-year history, in addition to four individual awards, the NEA will present a group award to the Marsalis family, New Orleans’ venerable first family of jazz. All of the 2011 recipients will be publicly honored at the annual awards ceremony and concert on January 11, 2011 at Frederick P. Rose Hall, home of Jazz at Lincoln Center, and receive a $25,000 fellowship award.
The 2011 NEA Jazz Masters are:
Hubert Laws Flutist
David Liebman Saxophonist, Flutist, Composer
Johnny Mandel Composer, Arranger, Trumpeter, Trombonist
Marsalis Family:
Ellis Marsalis, Jr. Pianist, Educator
Branford Marsalis Saxophonist, Composer, Bandleader
Wynton Marsalis Trumpeter, Composer, Educator, Bandleader
Delfeayo Marsalis Trombonist, Producer
Jason Marsalis Percussionist, Vibraphonist
Orrin Keepnews, a jazz producer and author from El Cerrito, California, will receive the 2011 A.B. Spellman NEA Jazz Masters Award for Jazz Advocacy.

Rifftides reader Deborah Hendrick e-mailed the following question:

I have noticed that when talking about Louis Armstrong, musician Wynton Marsalis carefully, almost deliberately, pronounces “Louis” as Lou-iss, not Lou-ee, which is how I usually hear the name.
How did Armstong pronounce his name?

He invariably pronounced it Louis, not Louie, as he demonstrates here, with help from a friend.

Fellow artsjournal.com blogger Larry Blumenfeld is in The Wall Street Journal with a piece about Herbie Hancock. His article addresses the pianist and composer’s latest excursion into the arena of popular music in which he won a Grammy a couple of years ago. In fame and societal impact, Hancock has come a long way from Miles Davis, Maiden Voyage and other accomplishments of the 1960s that made him one of the most respected musicians of his generation. Blumenfeld concentrates on what Hancock sees on the wide horizon.

With “The Imagine Project,” Mr. Hancock leverages both his talent and his pop-culture equity in the service of a larger idea. He mentions how a growing economic crisis and recent concerns about climate change have fostered an awareness of globalization. “These things force people to think about how connected we all are,” he says over the phone from his Los Angeles studio, “but in a negative way. So I wanted to find a way to use music as a vehicle for that idea, in a positive light.”
If Mr. Hancock sounds like a cultural ambassador, that’s because he is one: When we spoke, he’d just returned from Beijing, in his role as chairman of the Monk Institute, under the auspices of the State Department; soon he’d be in the East Room of the White House, among the celebrities singing “Hey Jude” as President Barack Obama presented Paul McCartney with the Library of Congress Gershwin Prize for Popular Song.

To read the article, go here.
I admire and encourage Hancock’s aspirations to cultural diplomacy through world music. But as I listened to “Don’t Give Up,” a song from his new album that is embedded in the WSJ article, I read a quote that he gave Blumenfeld:

“The first thing that came to mind when I thought of making another record,” he says, “was simply ‘Why? What can it accomplish?'”

The implication in that question is that he accomplished what he could in—for lack of a more precise term—mainstream jazz. It brought to mind the great alto saxophonist Phil Woods a few years ago as he contemplated the pervasive commercial success of his former boss and old pal Quincy Jones. “…but,” Woods said plaintively, “couldn’t he make a jazz record once in a while?”
If Herbie Hancock made a latterday counterpart of Maiden Voyage, Fat Albert Rotunda or 1+1, I—and perhaps others— would eagerly accept it along with his ambassadorship.

As long as the YouTube benefactor in Holland keeps posting new segments from that 1972 Dave Brubeck concert in Rotterdam, Rifftides will keep bringing them to you. The piece that just popped up, “Someday My Prince Will Come,” was a staple in the classic Brubeck quartet’s repertoire before it disbanded in 1969. Paul Desmond reaches into what he would no doubt refer to as his bag of tricks for a brilliant use of repetition (which amuses Alan Dawson), one of his celebrated duets with himself, blues references, and the all-but-inevitable quote from “Give a Little Whistle.” Brubeck lyrically builds his solo with single-note lines, then generates a head of steam that barely subsides before the tune ends. Along the way, he draws Dawson and Jack Six into a concentrated bit of the metric play that had a good deal to do with making him famous. Watching this band have a good time, it’s hard not to have a good time.

Previous installments of the Brubeck Rotterdam concert are here, here and here.

The Rifftides staff could think of no more appropriate way to observe the holiday than with Earl “Fathah” Hines (1903-1983). Here he is at the Berlin Piano Jazz Workshop in 1965 with Niels Henning Ørsted-Pedersen on bass and an unidentified drummer who looks like Alan Dawson. The piece is Eubie Blake’s “Memories of You,” one of Hines’ favorites for decades.

At the Berlin workshop, Hines was the leadoff man in a blues-in-C relay, followed by Teddy Wilson, John Lewis, Lennie Tristano, Bill Evans and Jaki Byard—a stylistic progression of pianists who owed him plenty.

The Rifftides blogroll, known as Other Places, has been a hodge-podge. The staff finally slumped into action and arranged it into categories. We added a few entries and deleted some that died or became inactive. It’s a work in progress, but at least it’s easier to navigate now.
Oh, you want to know where it is. It’s at the end of the middle column.

Bill Charlap & Renee Rosnes, Double Portrait (Blue Note). When Charlap and Rosnes married in 2007, it was logical to expect that an album of duets would follow. Now, it’s here, the collaboration of two of the most complete pianists in any genre of music. Considerations of domestic compatibility aside, piano duos that involve improvisation demand aspects of musicianship that go beyond technical ability. Among them is the capacity to anticipate and accommodate the partner’s harmonic thinking and rhythmic proclivities. Without that crucial essential of artistry, train wrecks or—at the least—non-injury derailings are inevitable.
This happy couple has nary a mishap. Their intuitive control of the interlocking dynamics of two Steinways results in delicacy of tonal shadings in Wayne Shorter’s “Ana Maria,” Gerry Mulligan’s “Little Glory” and Gershwin’s “My Man’s Gone Now,” the longest and most achingly beautiful track in the album. It allows smooth and powerful locomotion in Joe Henderson’s muscular “Inner Urge” and a joyful exchange of ideas in Antonio Carlos Jobim’s “Double Rainbow.” Rosnes and Charlap evoke an urge to samba (fast) in Lyle Mays’s “Chorinho.” “Dancing in the Dark” is evidence that a brisk tempo need not be the enemy of lyricism. Their twin cascade of sixteenth notes in the coda of that piece is a wonder of metric coordination. The title of Rosnes’s “The Saros Cycle” alludes to the frequency pattern of lunar and solar eclipses, which may account for not only the piece’s cyclical structure but also its air of celestial mystery. They conclude with sparks of whimsy in Frank Loesser’s “Never Will I Marry.” Throughout, the pianism and the creativity are at the highest level.
There has been a number of superb two-piano teams in jazz. To mention a few: Albert Ammons and Meade Lux Lewis; Hank Jones and Tommy Flanagan; Earl Hines and Jaki Byard; Don Ewell and Armand Hug; Chick Corea and Herbie Hancock; Dick Wellstood and Dick Hyman; and, of course, Bill Evans and Bill Evans. Charlap and Rosnes are in that company.

Over on JazzWax, Marc Myers has performed a public service by posting a fascinating account of the life of the gifted alto saxophonist Joe Maini (1930-1964). The piece addresses not only Maini’s musicianship but also the inaccuracy of lingering reports about how he died. Marc enlists Maini’s daughter in the telling. To read the article, go here.
But first, you may want to see and hear Maini play. The clip is from 1963, when it was still possible in some cities to regularly find live jazz on local television. Here is Joe Maini with Shorty Rogers’ quintet, playing tenor rather than alto saxophone. Following a brief musical intro, the host, Frank Evans, speaks, then the band plays one of Shorty’s tunes from his Martian period. The rhythm section is Pete Jolly, piano; Max Bennett, bass; and Mel Lewis, drums.

At the end of the JazzWax article, you’ll find another video clip of the Rogers-Maini band.
In this clip, you’ll hear Maini on alto sax with Jimmy Knepper, trombone; Bill Triglia, piano; Charles Mingus, bass; and Dannie Richmond, drums. It’s from Knepper’s 1957 album New Faces on the Debut label.

Two more pieces have emerged from the Dutch YouTube contributor who is posting segments of a remarkable Dave Brubeck concert in Rotterdam in 1972. The core unit was the Brubeck trio with bassist Jack Six and drummer Alan Dawson. Paul Desmond and Gerry Mulligan were the guest saxophonists on the Newport Jazz Festival tour.
Unlike many YouTube videos, these are of high visual quality and hold up in the full-screen mode. Don’t miss Six and Dawson enjoying the metric play at 5:15 of the second clip. Despite the superimposed titles, these new entries are minus Desmond. They feature Mulligan. Brubeck introduces them.

Rifftides began life on June 15, 2005 with this item:

Launching Rifftides
Today is the first day of this new web log about jazz and, as its subtitle proclaims, other matters. At the top of the center column you will find a sort of manifesto, below that information about the proprietor. Farther down the center column under “Doug’s Picks” are things I like that I hope you will like. I want this to be not merely a blog, but a diablog, so please respond with reactions. Your participation will be at least half the fun. There is an e-mail address under “Contact” in the center column. My intention is to post every weekday, and weekends when the spirit or events move me.
Launching this venture, I would like to thank Terry Teachout, who suggested blogging as an alternative or supplement to the print straitjacket, and ArtsJournal commander Doug McLennan, who agreed to give Rifftides a home and helped me build it. Doug’s a wizard.

Five years on, I have the privilege of also thanking the thousands of readers who have made possible the pleasures and rewards of this venture, not the least of which is Rifftides‘ recognition this week as the Jazz Journalist Association’s blog of the year.
Please see the part above about the importance of the diablog and join in often with your comments and observations.
Onward.

At the Jazz Journalists Association awards ceremony in New York today, James Moody was honored for his lifetime achievement in jazz. Vijay Iyer was named musician of the year. Joe Lovano won in three categories; record of the year, small ensemble of the year and tenor saxophonist of the year. Maria Schneider was named composer of the year, Darcy James Argue up-and-coming musician of the year. Don Heckman won the award for lifetime achievement in jazz journalism.

To see the complete list of 41 winners, go here. Scroll way down and you’ll see that Rifftides was honored in the blog category. The Rifftides staff is flattered to be in such company, We thank the members of the JJA and our loyal readers.