A family emergency has called me away. I don’t know for how long, but the nature of the emergency has me not daring to hope that it will be a short stay. I’ll be posting again as soon as possible.
DR

The Grammy win last night by Brian Lynch and Eddie Palmieri for Best Latin Jazz Album is also a victory for the proposition that independence can bring rewards. Lynch said goodbye to the oversight of record companies, produced Simpático on his own and released it with ArtistShare, the cooperative venture that allows musicians greater control over their recorded work and a greater share of the profit from it. Even better, it’s a splendid CD. To read last fall’s Rifftides review of Simpático, go here.
The focus of much attention lately on Rifftides, Michael Brecker posthumously won his twelfth Grammy for his tenor saxophone solo on “Some Skunk Funk”.
Congratulations to friend Dan Morgenstern. He won for best liner notes for Fats Waller: If You Got To Ask, You Ain’t Got It, discussed under the current Doug’s Picks in the right-hand column.

Rifftides Washington, DC correspondent John Birchard heard Dave Holland’s new band the other night and filed this report.

Terrace Theater, John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, Washington, D.C.

February 9, 2007.

Dave Holland, bass; Robin Eubanks, trombone; Antonio Hart, alto saxophone; Alex Sipiagin, trumpet & fluegelhorn; Mulgrew Miller, piano; Eric Harland, drums.

Dave Holland made his third visit to the Kennedy Center, leading a band he described as “a relatively new project.” The British-born bassist is coming off a banner year, having been named Bassist of the Year for 2006 by readers of Down Beat, his quintet named Best Jazz Group and his big band voted Best Big Band. On the evidence of last night’s first set, Holland is not resting on those laurels.
The new band can justifiably be called an all-star group. There are no weak links. The audience that filled the Terrace Theater heard a set of originals by the leader that showcased each musician in arrangements that demonstrated freshness and originality. Holland kicked off the evening with a snappy Latin piece that featured Mulgrew Miller and Robin Eubanks.
A tribute to the late Ray Brown, “Mister B”, followed. A loose-limbed, medium swinger, the tune reminded one of Brown and featured Miller again and altoist Antonio Hart, who is not afraid to allow space as he builds a solo and will mine a phrase, repeating it as if examining it first from one side then another, not just stuffing notes in as a substitute for thought.
An up-tempo “Interception” was next, offering an intense Alex Sipiagin whose chops are impressive and tone on trumpet is bright. His fiery playing put me in mind of my youth when Europeans were considered second-rate jazz players. Those days are long gone, thank God. If any proof were needed, the work by Sipiagin and his leader last night were fine examples. The fast, staccato piece came to a close with Eric Harland’s drum solo, which at times sounded like a machine gun with hiccups.
Holland then introduced another of his originals, one inspired he said by a scene from the old movie Cleopatra, in which Elizabeth Taylor made her stately way down the Nile on a barge. He calls it “Processional” and its exotic minor sound and leisurely pace offered a chance to hear Sipiagin’s mellow fluegelhorn state the melody and gave Antonio Hart another pleasing showcase.
The set concluded all too soon with a tribute to the late drummer Ed Blackwell and his New Orleans background, titled “Pass It On”. Holland, who played a 3/4-sized bass throughout, began the tune with an unaccompanied pizzicato solo that featured soulful double- and triple-stops and gradually morphed into a rhythmic beat that had the audience fairly tasting the gumbo of the Crescent City. Harland slid in underneath Holland and showed the Blackwell beat did not die with its inventor. Robin Eubanks offered a fine, raucous solo full of smears and a burry sound appropriate to the tune and Antonio Hart turned up the temperature even more, leading to Eric Harland’s infectious solo and then out.
Dave Holland’s new band is a worthy successor to his previous quintet. At times, the front line reminded this listener of Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers and at others of the Art Farmer-Benny Golson Jazztet. But mostly, the sextet bears the stamp of its leader. It is an uncompromising jazz band with a sound that is anchored in the past and looks ahead with intelligence, taste and imagination.
John Birchard

There have been several interesting comments about the Rifftides Pay To Play posting. Jim Brown’s comment constitutes an essay and gets a posting of its own. He wrote it in response to messages about the Pay To Play piece that appeared on a listserve devoted to west coast jazz. The emphases and the colorful language are all Mr. Brown’s.

I come at this with the perspective of engineer (formal training), jazz fan for 55 years, actively working in and with jazz clubs for the last 30 years, and a background in accounting — both mom and dad were accountants.
In this modern world, our educations are “Balkanized” — that is, we specialize in whatever we’ve chosen to study seriously (usually, but not always what makes us a living), and rarely learn much about anything else — ESPECIALLY anything so venal as the economics (or the politics) of how the world works.
BUT:
You would have to be living under a very large rock to miss the facts 1) that rents for spaces that are suitable for jazz clubs are sky high; 2) sound and lighting to support jazz isn’t cheap; 3) people who make decent waitresses and bartenders for jazz clubs need to be “a cut above” in terms of intelligence and sensitivity, and they deserve a living wage too; 4) it costs money to buy the advertising that fills the club; 5) there are taxes and licenses that a club owner must pay; 6) there are lots of nights in any jazz club I’ve ever been in with lots of empty seats, even with top musical talent and quality management.
The Jazz Showcase in Chicago has tried a bunch of locations over its 60+ years of existence, but not one of them that wasn’t in a high rent location has been successful! What do I mean by successful — fannies in the seats!
While I believe to the core of my existence that Jazz is the greatest artistic contribution of the 20th century, and on a par with the combined output of what we commonly call “classical music,” both classical music and jazz are minority interests to the population at large. The reasons for this reality are a sad comentary on the modern world, but they are a reality, and WE are fools if we ignore it.
We as jazz fans, and those of us who are musicians, all need to do our part as a TEAM to create, nurture, and support the jazz clubs that do exist, the people who make major investments in their time, talent, and dollars to make them run, the technical folk who work in those clubs when they could make lots more dollars elsewhere, and those who make the music. Without ANY of them, the jazz scene is far less rich (and damned well could disappear).
The “pay to play” syndrome that Marvin Stamm talks about is really about the musician sharing some of the cost of a financially unsuccessful gig. It costs the club owner a lot of money to open the club for a night. If it doesn’t come from folks who walk in the door, where does it come from? Especially because running a real jazz club is such a fragile business, you can’t have a lot of those nights and stay afloat.
When I was living in Chicago, I had a long standing offer of $2K to Joe Segal of The Jazz Showcase to book a very well known and very inventive pianist, if only for one night. He never took me up on it — it wasn’t enough, because he didn’t trust the pianist’s drawing power!
On the other hand, someone must promote the gig, and put the fannies in the seats. Usually that responsibility falls to the club owner. If it can be shared with a record company (or the artist), all the better. Veteran singer/pianist Judy Roberts, a stalwart of the Chicago club scene who ALWAYS seems to be working, does her part, in the form of a mailing list, circulating to greet her fans, and doing the things a real entertainer does to keep the audience satisfied.
ALL of us must be continually aware of the economic realities with every element of our contributions to the scene. I’m like Jack Benny in a gas station when I design sound systems or assist a jazz club owner in setting up his or her system. Musicians and jazz fans need to do the same. That includes everyone — musicians, bartenders, clubowners, and promoters working hard to make the audience feel appreciated and “in the scene.” It includes an audience that fills those clubs regularly, buys some drinks, and doesn’t bitch about the cover charge that pays the freight.
I’ll ask a rhetorical question here — “How many nights have readers of Rifftides spent in a jazz club over the past year?” As for the musicians among us, how many nights of a cover have YOU paid to support a jazz club in your community? Let those who answer, “more than once a week” cast the first stone. And the rest of you are full of s—.
Jim Brown

A reminder: Don’t miss the comments from fellow Rifftidesers. We get some interesting ones. There is a comments link at the end of every posting. While you’re there, please submit comments of your own. Your fellow readers and the staff like to hear from you.

The tireless Bret Primack has made the leap from mere blogging into video blogging. His first posting has a sixteen-minute mini-documentary about the late Michael Brecker. It includes Brecker discussing his playing, and an organized jam session with Michael, David Liebman, Joe Lovano and the incendiary rhythm section of Phil Markowitz, Rufus Reid and Billy Hart.
At the bottom of Primack’s page are links to several of his favorite YouTube videos, so I have him to thank for chewing up a substantial chunk of a morning I should have spent writing. No hard feelings, though, because I saw and heard Fred Astaire singing with Oscar Levant (I’m not making that up) and Lord Buckley as a guest on Groucho Marx’s You Bet Your Life. Younger Rifftides readers may think I’m suggesting a trip to fogeyville, but they are likely to discover that true hipness has no age. To find out for yourself, go here.
Be aware that YouTube has a second part of Astaire’s guest spot on the Levant show in which he does a brilliantly underplayed impression of Samuel Goldwyn.

Do not attempt to go to the Hotel Pianist blog recommended two items down. Hotel Pianist reports that an unscrupulous blogger ignored her request for anonymity and outed her, naming her hotel and posting a picture. She feels that she must decommission her blog in order to preserve her job. That is a shame because Hotel Pianist was a delight.

Doug McClennan, commander-in-chief of artsjournal.com and blog construction wizard, has shown the Rifftides staff how to keep older Doug’s Picks accessible. Following the current picks (right column), you will see the phrase more picks. Click on it. Then you will be able to scroll through all of the recommendations since the middle of last year. We are working on further refinements.

Thanks to fellow artsjournal.com traveler Terry Teachout for mentioning a blog of which I was unaware until ten minutes ago. It is witty, quiet and touching, and I can’t help wondering if that’s how the anonymous blogger known as The Hotel Pianist plays. Here are samples of her writing:

As I’ve written, I don’t often smile while sitting at the hotel piano. I used to smile automatically at guests who walked by, but on too many occasions, my smile was met with a scowl or a stone-cold expression. This hurt my feelings (hey, hotel pianists have feelings, too!), so my default expression is now a preemptive scowl. But if you happen to approach me with a shy smile, I’ll gladly return the pleasantry. (As long as you don’t request certain tunes.)

Comment Of The Night

“Before you were born,” said a wizened man who claimed to have attended high school with Bobby Timmons, “they used to have places like the Blue Note.” (The last time I checked, the Blue Note was alive and well, if a tourist trap!)

I am still racing multiple deadlines. It is late at night. I just finished one piece and am about to start another. There will be no further posting here tonight. So you may as well check in with The Hotel Pianist. Please come back tomorrow.

An accomplished pianist in New York, not famous but not obscure, told me about her attempts to find work. They were discouraging. There seemed to be no work. Then, the owner of an Italian restaurant made her an offer. She could play in the restaurant, but only Italian songs or those associated with Frank Sinatra. Oh, and one other thing: there would be no pay. It was an offer she refused. But look on the bright side. The owner didn’t tell her that she would have to pay him. Many musicians these days aren’t that lucky.
In the last century–not so long ago, really–the best bands in jazz became the best by working together in jazz clubs night after night, week after week. In the 1950s and ’60s, it was not unusual for a group to have two, three and even six-week engagements in New York clubs like The Half Note, The Five Spot, Slug’s, The Village Vanguard and The Jazz Gallery. There were counterparts elsewhere; the Jazz Showcase in Chicago, the Black Hawk in San Francisco, Sardi’s and Shelly’s Manne Hole in Los Angeles, The Lighthouse in Hermosa Beach. In the clubs during long runs, Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers, the Lighthouse All-Stars, the Miles Davis Quintet, Shelly Manne and His Men, Cannonball Adderley’s Quintet, the Bill Evans Trio, the Modern Jazz Quartet, the Dave Brubeck Quartet, Cal Tjader’s quartet and many other groups perfected their music. None of them got rich playing clubs, but they grew together musically. Their exposure and popularity in the clubs led to record contracts and fame.

For Example
Club owners were not philanthropists. They were in business to make money, but they knew that in the long run if a band brought in enough customers, the economics would make sense for all concerned. Well, the long run is back there in the twentieth century, with recording contracts. Like nearly everything else in the most affluent economy the world has ever known, we want results now, the money now, return on investment now. Why should club owners be different? They are not, so many of them devise formulas whereby the musicians who play their clubs guarantee the club owner a profit. If you would like to know more about that, let Marvin Stamm explain it from the musician’s standpoint. He does so in the most recent edition of his excellent electronic newsletter, Cadenzas. Yes, musicians now sometimes have to pay to play in clubs. If that comes as news to you, if it shocks you, wait until you read the details in Stamm’s piece.

Marvin Stamm
Here is an excerpt:

Many club owners refuse to take any chances with musicians and their groups, and are rarely willing to expend an effort to develop any kind of working relationship with them. The artist is expected to assume total responsibility; rarely do you find a club willing to share any of the risk. This is a very sad situation, particularly for some of the newer groups or lesser-known artists, because it places many clubs more or less off limits except for an off-night or those times when or if the musician shows a willingness to “pay to play,” a practice with which I strongly disagree. The “pay to play” syndrome is something I don’t remember occurring when I came to New York in 1966. It now seems to have been going on for a good while and exemplifies what I have been writing about.

If an artist or group is new or unknown, some clubs – even the larger clubs – will ask that the artist or group’s record company guarantee that the club will break even. If there is no record company to back the artist, then he will probably have to guarantee this himself. An example of this is something I was told recently by someone close to me about a young saxophonist approaching the booker or owner of a club about bringing his quintet into the club on an off-night. The club agreed to pay the quintet five hundred dollars, but the musician had to guarantee the club attendance by thirty people for their performance – at twenty-five dollars a head, or a total of seven hundred and fifty dollars. If the artist didn’t draw those initial thirty people, the difference had to come out of his pocket. So, in essence, the leader of the quintet had to “pay to play.” Sad! Disgusting!

That is a small portion of a long, troubling article. To read the whole thing, go to Cadenzas and scroll down to “New York Jazz Clubs.” Fortunately for Marvin Stamm, talent and forty years of hard work have elevated him to a place where he doesn’t have to depend on night clubs to make a living. But he is worried about the next generation. It has never been easy for young musicians to find places to polish their art and be heard. Now, it’s even tougher, and they may be forced to pay for the opportunity.