During the years in which Art Farmer (1928-1999) played trumpet as his main horn, his muted work was a pleasure to hear. After he switched to flugelhorn in the early 1960s, his playing took on greater lyricism and depth, but because there were no flugelhorn mutes, a satisfying aspect of his sound went by the wayside. Then, in the late ‘70s he found a technician who was able to convert a trombone mute so that the flugel could accommodate it. Here’s Farmer on muted flugelhorn in 1982 with a superb rhythm section: Fred Hersch, piano; Dennis Irwin, bass; Billy Hart, drums.

I have posted this video before—but not for a couple of years—and no doubt will again. We play favorite records often. Why not favorite videos? Art’s ending cadenza alone would be worth the return visit.

For the previous “Blue Monk” appearance, other Art Farmer videos and reflections on his importance, go here.

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.