Sharkey Bonano was born on this day 98 years ago. He died in 1972. During my first residency in New Orleans, I was fortunate that Sharkey was still around and working. Late in his career, when Bonano was able to resist his cornball urges, he was capable of superb trumpet playing of the kind he did in the 1920s and ’30s with Gene Goldkette, Ben Pollack and his own Sharks of Rhythm. In this photograph from 1968 or so, he is in his customary derby standing next to Pete Fountain at an impromptu jam session. It was the first time in a quarter of a century that Fountain had set down his clarinet and played tenor saxophone, something he has rarely done since. The trombonist in the picture is Eddy Edwards, a survivor of the Original Dixieland Jazz Band. The clarinetist is Harry Shields, brother of Larry Shields, the original clarinetist of the ODJB. The drummer’s name escapes me, but one of you alert Rifftides readers will let me know.
Bonano is usually described as under the influence of Louis Armstrong. That is true, but he rubbed up against Bix Beiderbecke in Goldkette’s band and, ever after, ripples of Bix surfaced in his work. In the soundtrack of the shaky amateur photo montage below, you will hear traces of both Armstrong and Beiderbecke as Bonano leads a superb version of his band through “High Society.” The front line includes two young New Orleans stars, clarinetist Irving Fazola and trombonist Santo Pecora. Sharkey’s former leader, Pollack, is on drums, Thurman Teague bass and Frank Frederico, guitar. The pianist is the 19-year-old Clyde Hart, later to make the transition to bebop and play with Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. Listen to the ease with which Fazola nails the traditional Alphonse Picou clarinet solo. From Sharkey, Faz went on to Glenn Miller, Bob Crosby and Claude Thornhill, among others.
This is a fine memory of Sharkey Bonano.

The 2010 Brubeck Festival opens today at the University of the Pacific in Stockton, California. Occasional Rifftides contributor Paul Conley of Capitol Public Radio in Sacramento spoke with Dave and Iola Brubeck about the history of the institute. Among the stories is Brubeck’s recollection of the early connection between one of his brothers and an emerging young band leader and arranger named Gil Evans. To hear Paul’s report, go here and click on “Listen.”

Kirk Knuffke, Amnesia Brown (Clean Feed). Knuffke’s trumpet tone is notable for softness, fullness and evenness. The audacity of risk in his improvisational concept would be the envy of the Flying Wallendas. The contrast between his sound and the content of his work is a source of fascination throughout this collection of miniatures. Even though his collaborators number only two, Knuffke has plenty of company in 16 little art songs without words, all his compositions. Drummer Kenny Wollesen is a three-decades veteran of adventures with musicians as various as John Zorn, Bill Frisell, Jessica Williams, Tom Waits, Sean Lennon and the Crash Test Dummies. Doug Wieselman’s track record includes work with Zorn, Jenny Scheinman, Wayne Horvitz and other prominent artists who typically populate the edge of New York’s downtown jazz community. From track to track, he alternates between clarinet (generally calm) and guitar (tending toward mania).
The three develop their solos and interactions from themes built on folk simplicity in “Leadbelly” and “Totem,” instrumental chanting in “Practical Sampling” and serene trumpet layered over guitar distortions and raucous drum and cymbal patterns in “Please Help, Please Give.” The album’s opening “How it Goes” begins with trumpet/clarinet counterpoint that could be Knuffke reflecting on Shorty Rogers and Jimmy Giuffre circa 1954, however unlikely that may seem. It ends with lyricism, Knuffke and Wieselman giving sotto voce unison farewell to the delicate melody of “Anne.” The unusual name of the album’s title tune? It memorializes one of Knuffke’s great-grandfathers, who claimed that he forgot he had a wife and family after he established a second set in another town and changed his name. The piece has a nostalgic, even old-timey, quality and a certain goofiness in the solos that is underlain with a Wollesen percussive effect like rapid water over loose stones.
In a development that may be an indication of growing maturity in free jazz, the longest track runs less than five minutes. Perhaps, after all, full expression doesn’t require extraordinary length. One thinks of Miles Davis’s celebrated advice to John Coltrane when Coltrane explained that he had trouble stopping his solos; “You might try taking the horn out of your mouth.” These guys do, and it works.
For the past six months or so, Knuffke has been a member of Matt Wilson’s quintet. For a Rifftides review of one that band’s performances shortly after he joined, go here.

Yesterday was Gerry Mulligan’s birthday (1927-1996). Today is Billie Holiday’s (1915-1959). If only there were video of them together.
There is, of course; one of the most famous pieces of film ever made of a jazz performance. It is from the kinescope recording of the 1957 CBS-TV program The Sound of Jazz. “Fine and Mellow” featured Holiday with a group of horn soloists for which the designation All-Stars seems barely adequate. Holiday’s choruses of her classic blues alternate with solos by Ben Webster, Lester Young in an inexpressibly moving reunion with Holiday, Vic Dickenson, Mulligan, Coleman Hawkins and Roy Eldridge. The muted trumpet obbligato is by Doc Cheatham. Seeing this every so often is like revisiting a great painting. Its depth grows with each viewing.

It took all night, but the intrepid Rifftides technical crew found the key. The right-hand columns, with their troves of invaluable information and links, are restored and we can get back to the business at hand. Thanks for your patience.

As you may note by the disappearance of the two right-hand columns, Rifftides is undergoing technical problems. The staff is hard at work to locate the cause and hopes that the difficulty will be resolved soon. We appreciate your forbearance.

Jazz this week lost John Bunch, a pianist whose imagination and adaptability kept him in demand for more than 60 years. Establishing his career in New York following his World War Two military service, Bunch slid smoothly from swing into bop and remained a reliable sideman and soloist who incorporated aspects of both eras in a personal approach of great flexibility. He was as comfortable and effective with Benny Goodman as he was with Wes Montgomery, or alone. This celebrated album is a superb Bunch solo recital. To read Nate Chinen’s obituary of Bunch in The New York Times, go here.
Bunch leads off a round of solos on “Sweet Georgia Brown” in this video of Scott Hamilton’s quartet. Chris Flory is on guitar, Phil Flanigan, bass and Chuck Riggs, drums.

That’s quite enough passings for a while, don’t you agree?

Last summer, I had the privilege of presenting the 2009 Lifetime Achievement Award of the Jazz Journalists Association to Mike Zwerin, my successor in the chain of winners of that honor. Mike was unable to make the trip from his home in France and accepted in absentia. That missed opportunity meant that I will never have the pleasure of a personal meeting with a cherished colleague. Mike died early this morning in a Paris hospital at the age of 79, following a long illness. Our correspondence over the years provided me insights and great satisfactions. His end of it was witty and acerbic, in keeping with his columns in the International Herald Tribune and, in later years, Bloomberg News.
Zwerin’s books Swing Under The Nazis: Jazz As A Metaphor For Freedom and The Parisian Chronicles are essential items in any serious collection of writing about jazz. His first fame was as a fine valve trombonist and bass trumpeter, a member of the original Birth of the Cool band led by Miles Davis in collaboration with Gerry Mulligan, Gil Evans and John Lewis. In his journalism career, in addition to his award-winning work for the International Herald-Tribune, he wrote for The Village Voice, Rolling Stone and Down Beat, among other publications. Mike’s writing style inspired Bill Kirchner to describe him as “Mezz Mezzrow meets Jack Kerouac meets Hunter Thompson.” Zwerin provided a rare combination of wisdom and spice. His readers, this one most emphatically included, will miss him.

Dániel Szabó Trio Meets Chris Potter, Contribution (BMC). Szabó is a 34-year-old pianist and composer with impressive academic and performance credentials and awards in Hungary and the US. One of his professors at the New England Conservatory was Bob Brookmeyer, who sent a copy of Szabó’s CD with a note strongly suggesting that his former student deserves close attention.
This album commands close attention.
Szabó’s compositions have lines with binding energy that urges forward motion, and chord structures of challenging densities, prompting Brookmeyer to refer to it as “highly evolved music.” Throughout, currents and undercurrents of Eastern European rhythms and minor harmonies inform both writing and improvisation. Szabó, bassist Mátyás Szandai and drummer Ferenc Németh previously recorded with guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel in an album I have yet to hear. It seems clear that it takes musicians of Rosenwinkel’s and Potter’s virtuosity and openness to ideas to navigate in Szabó’s deep, sometimes stormy waters. Conversely, it requires musicians of these three Hungarians’ advanced techniques and jazz sensibilties to hold their own with Potter, a soloist of daunting power, swing and imagination. His work is riveting on tenor and soprano saxophones, and bass clarinet in the nostalgic piece called “Melodic.” Szabós piano playing, founded in post-Bill Evans harmony and dynamics, is of a piece with the advanced concepts of his writing. His exchanges and counterpoint with Potter are natural, unforced.
This album was recorded in Budapest. Potter’s domestic ties to Hungary seem to take him there frequently. If that means we may expect further collaboration between him and the Szabó trio, so much the better. This is, indeed, highly evolved–and highly satisfying–music. Here are Szabó, Szandai, Németh and Potter at their CD release party in an extended version of “Attack of the Intervals,” the first piece on the album.

Herb Ellis died last night at home in Los Angeles. He was 88 years old and had Alzheimer’s disease. Ellis was most celebrated for his guitar playing with the Oscar Peterson Trio that also included bassist Ray Brown. For more than half a century, he was one of a handful of guitarists recognized as masters of the instrument. Musicians of several generations cherished him as a colleague. A few of them were fellow guitarists Barney Kessel, Joe Pass, Charlie Byrd and Laurindo Almeida; trumpeters Louis Armstrong, Roy Eldridge and Harry “Sweets” Edison; saxophonists Ben Webster, Plas Johnson and Stan Getz; and Ella Fitzgerald.
In the notes for one of Ellis’s last recordings as a leader, I wrote:

In the 24 bars of his unaccompanied introduction to “Things Ain’t What They Used to Be,” Herb Ellis sketches the elements of his musicality.

• Harmonic sophistication

• Fleet execution

• Expression of abstract ideas in earthy language

• Bred-in-the-bone familiarity with the blues

• Distinctive Southwest twang

• Humor

• Perfect time

When Peterson modeled his trio on Nat Cole’s in 1950, he at first had Brown on bass and Cole’s former guitarist irving Ashby. Then Barney Kessel signed on for a year. Ellis replaced Kessel and spent five years with Peterson. The trio became one of the most celebrated groups in jazz. Their concert recordings contain some of the most exciting music ever captured on record. Peterson, Ellis and Brown agreed that the album from the Stratford, Ontario, Shakespeare Festival in 1956 caught them at their peak. They may not have again quite reached that apogee during their time together, but they came close in this 1958 performance at the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam. Ellis simulates bongos, solos with all of the facets listed above, and demonstrates his skill as a rhythm guitarist.

As far as Peterson was concerned, Ellis was irreplaceable. When Herb left the trio in 1958, Peterson did not consider hiring another guitatist. He brought in drummer Ed Thigpen. That was a great trio, too, but the electricity and empathy of Peterson, Ellis and Brown was unique.
You will find a trove of Ellis albums here.
Herb Ellis, RIP.