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.

To my surprise, on the rare occasions when I divert from the main topic and post illustrated accounts of cycling excursions, Rifftides readers ask for more. Okay. This morning my Italian friend Vigorelli Bianchi took me 35 miles through farmland, orchard country and high desert. It is difficult with a camera to emphasize the hilliness of the hills. Take my word for it—they are hilly and they are long.

End of report. I need a nap. Have a good weekend.