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Speaking of Poodie James (see the previous post), if you have read the novel you might like to see a bit of the town and valley that bear a not entirely coincidental resemblance to the book’s locale. I just watched a short promotional video made by Charley Voorhis and his colleagues at an outfit called Voortex Productions. I had never heard of Voortex until a friend sent me a link to this little film. I am impressed with the shooting, editing, post-production and story-telling skill that went into it. I plan to see more of their work. The fact that the film made me nostalgic for the town where I grew up has nothing to do with my assessment of the video. See what you think. If you can, watch it full screen, then press esc and see the special Poodie offer at the end of the post.

If you have not read Poodie James, we can arrange that. For Rifftides readers, we have a special price and free shipping. For details, go here. Hey, if a guy can’t use his blog for shameless self-promotion, what’s it good for?

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The Bill Holman documentary that I helped with late last year is moving closer to reality. Its producer, Kathryn King, has launched a fund-raising drive to help her and her crew complete the film on schedule. That is how many projects are accomplished these days when they don’t have the backing of big Hollywood investors. Few of them have that kind of support, especially when the ventures have to do with the arts. In November, I spent a few days in Los Angeles interviewing Mr. Holman for the film, observing him rehearse his band and attending a remarkable performance of his arrangements of Thelonious Monk compositions.

As one who in his television days wrote and produced a number of documentaries, I was impressed with the skill and savvy of Ms. King, her director Gil Gilbert and their helpers. She has put herself on a tight schedule to complete the funding. I wish her well. It should be self-evident that Bill Holman’s accomplishments and his enrichment of America’s—and the world’s—culture need documentation.

For Rifftides posts about the week of filming in L.A., enter “Bill Holman” in the search box at the top right of the page.

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Jan Allan with the Visby Big Band, Berwaldhallen Stockholm, Sweden, 1985. Arranged, conducted and introduced by Rob McConnell.

Later this month, Allan, now 79, will join pianist Jan Lundgren, bassist Georg Riedel, saxophonist-composer Erik Norström and the Bohuslän Big Band for an eight-city tour of Sweden in honor of the late pianist Bengt Hallberg.

For a previous Rifftides post about Jan Allan, go here.

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Rifftides reader Ted O’Reilly writes from Toronto:

I wasn’t much inclined to shop much at Crocojazz personally – I’m not into vinyl as some are – but it was not as inviting as I’d hoped. Unorganized, dusty, boxes and crates on the floor…a treasure hunt, perhaps, but as I was without my spade, not much more than ‘a cultural’ experience.

Here’s the late John Norris in a picture I took (it sez here) on May 28/08. Note that it was taken before we went in. He might not have been as excited on the way out…

Later that night, we went to hear a good-fun-revivalist gang (with a great bilingual pun-name) the Hot Antic Jazz Band. (authentique = hot antic of course…)

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Rifftides reader Greg Curtis is on a study sabbatical in Paris. Wishing to stimulate envy—and succeeding—he sent an illustrated message about two used record stores in the 5th arrondissement, near his apartment. One, La Dame Blanche, specializes in classical recordings. The name of the other, Crocojazz, is self-explanatory. They are across from one another on the rue de la Montagne-Ste-Geneviève.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mr. Curtis writes about Crocojazz:

This store featured a complete run of 33 1/3 anthologies of rare blues and jazz tunes from 78s, with R. Crumb art on the cover. VERY tempting but I didn’t buy. Maybe I’ll go back and see if the owner can ship to the states and what that would cost.

All dedicated collectors agonize over such decisions, as did Harvey Pekar. The drawing taped on Crocojazz’s window is a panel from American Splendor: The Life and Times of Harvey Pekar by the late jazz critic, philosopher and ironic humorist. Pekar was portrayed by Paul Giamatti in an award-winning film, also titled American Splendor. See this series of Rifftides posts about Pekar at the time of his death in 2010.

Greg Curtis’s most recent book, worth collecting, is The Cave Painters: Probing the Mysteries of the World’s First Artists. His previous one, Disarmed, was about the Venus de Milo.

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From her opening blues, “Filosophical Flying Fish,” to the concluding “Summertime” done as a sort of neo-boogaloo, Grace Kelly’s Thursday concert at The Seasons in Yakima, Washington, left no doubt that she is in the top flight of today’s alto saxophonists. She has been there for some time. Here is what I wrote after I first heard her at a festival jam session in 2007 (pictured then, above).

I know of no explanation other than genius for this slender fourteen-year-old girl’s attainment of maturity in her art. She has mastery of the instrument, passion, profound swing, and judgment that one would expect in a player with twenty years of professional experience.

Now that Ms. Kelly is 21, I’ll revise that to the equivalent of forty years of experience and musical wisdom, with her teen enthusiasm intact.

Fresh from the Portland Jazz Festival with a rhythm section of Los Angeles pros, she played a program of nine original compositions and a sprinkling of standards. Introducing “Don’t Box Me In,” she explained that the title refers to her insistence on exploring many genres of music, but her solo had the bebop purity and passion that characterize her playing. The motion in her improvised lines on “Autumn Song” paralleled her physical movement, which might have been choreographed by Twyla Tharp at her most uninhibited. In Billy Strayhorn’s “Isfahan,” Ms. Kelly met the challenge of not sounding like Johnny Hodges, who all but owned the piece, or anyone else, except for one little trill suggesting Phil Woods.

A new Kelly song, “Touched By an Angel,” with a riff-like section and lyrics delivered in her high, clear voice, has pop potential. Electric bassist Jerry Watts and drummer Steve Hass added to the contemporary feel as Ms. Kelly played boppish lines that no one would mistake for Kenny G. For the extended coda, she recruited the audience as the band’s backup choir. She did McCoy Tyner’s “Blues on the Corner” in the spirit of Tyner’s 1967 original recording. Full of originality, Quinn Johnson played a solo that avoided the universal temptation of jazz pianists to approximate Tyner’s style.

Johnson was also impressive in “Amazing Grace,” a piece from Mr. Kelly’s 2011 album of gospel music. She played an extended ending that suggested she is as familiar with Hank Crawford as with Phil Woods, Lee Konitz and Charlie Parker. Hass, a veteran of associations as varied as Nicholas Payton, Tierney Sutton and Art Garfunkel, was a source of rhythmic power and good cheer throughout the concert.

From Yakima, Ms. Kelly was headed to a couple of one-nighters in California, then a European tour that will include Germany, Sweden, Austria, Turkey and Switzerland. She will be back to play at the March 22 Marian McPartland memorial service in Port Washington, New York.

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Listen to Kurt Vonnegut.