Fair weather continues.

So, too, does recuperation, if that’s what it can be called. For such details as exist, see yesterday’s Rifftides installment. For “Fair Weather” from 1958, click on the arrow below. Benny Golson is the composer.

Rudy Van Gelder, who recorded thousands of albums by musicians including some of the most important in jazz, died today at 91. As a young man, Van Gelder began recording in a room in his parents’ house in Hackensack, New Jersey. Among his recordings were early albums by Miles Davis and Thelonious Monk. He was a practicing optometrist, but he said in recent years that when he first found himself in a recording studio, he had a feeling that “this is what I should be doing.” He went on to acquire the most sophisticated equipment and learned to use it to create what was sometimes labeled the Van Gelder sound. There was widespread speculation about how he achieved that sound, but he never disclosed his recording secrets. He ultimately left optometry and established his own studio in nearby Englewood Cliffs. Over the years he engineered classic sessions by Gil Mellé, John Coltrane, Cannonball Adderley, Art Blakey, Sonny Rollins, Horace Silver and dozens of others. Van Gelder’s work made up substantial portions of the output of the record companies Savoy, Prestige and—especially—Blue Note.

As an example of the Van Gelder sound, from pianist, composer and arranger Duke Pearson’s 1966 album Sweet Honeybee here is a nifty blues in F. The soloists are Freddie Hubbard, trumpet; Joe Henderson, tenor sax; James Spaulding, alto sax; Duke Pearson, piano; and Ron Carter, bass. The drummer is Mickey Roker. Pearson named the piece, “Ready Rudy?”

Steven Lugerner, Jacknife: The Music Of Jackie McLean (Primary Records)

After his studies at The New School in New York ended a couple of years ago, alto saxophonist Steven Lugerner returned home to the San Francisco Bay area and took Jackie McLean with him. Not in person, of course; McLean died in 2006, and Lugerner never met him, but the young man became immersed in McLean’s music. The audacity of McLean’s attack is apparent in everything that Lugerner plays. The aggressiveness, rough edges and incisiveness of McLean’s conception are apparent from his successor’s first solo, in “On the Nile.” If Lugerner’s pugnacity goes a bit over the top in the piece, trumpeter JJ Kirkpatrick brings the emotional heat down in the transition to his solo, and there is an interlude of relative calm before Kirkpatrick cranks the energy back up. McLean composed three of the six tunes on Jacknife. His frequent trumpet companion Charles Tolliver wrote two. Another is by drummer Jack DeJohnette.

McLean had affinity for the innovations of Ornette Coleman, and while there is no free-jazz abandonment of conventional rules in the album, Lugerner applies Coleman phrasing and harmonic leaps in “Cancellation.” The dramatic “Melody for Melonae,” introduced by McLean on his 1962 Blue Note album Let Freedom Ring, incorporates simultaneous improvisation by Lugerner and Kirkpatrick. Pianist Richard Sears, bassist Garret Lang and drummer Michael Mitchell, already making an impression on the California jazz scene, are likely to receive further attention through their work with Lugerner and Kirkpatrick in this stimulating collection.

Toots Thielemans, the man who made the harmonica a well-known jazz instrument died today in Brussels, Belgium, his hometown. He was 94. Thielemans was recently hospitalized after a fall that resulted in a broken arm, but neither his family nor management representatives specified the cause of his death.

On an instrument often dismissed as a novelty, Thielemans’ advanced musicianship and individuality made him a respected colleague of Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Benny Goodman and George Shearing, with all of whom he played. In Shearing’s quintet, he played both harmonica and guitar. Thielemans inspired a number of younger musicians to concentrate on the harmonica. In the 1950s, saxophonist Eddie Shu added the harmonica to his performances, as did Howard Levy later. Contemporary players include Grégoire Maret, William Galison, the young Swedish musician Filip Jers and the German virtuoso Hendrik Muerkens. None of them has achieved Thielemans’ popularity or the level of familiarity he attained through exposure on movie soundtracks, guest shots on albums by Billy Eckstine, Billy Joel and Julian Lennon, and appearances on television’s Sesame Street. For a thorough review of Thielemans’ career, see the obituary by Peter Keepnews in today’s New York Times.

The following piece from the Rifftides archive reports on a Thielemans club appearance that had all of the elements that made his performances endearing and musically rewarding

Toots And Friends
November 14, 2005

My heavily-traveled weekend with an assemblage of couples out for a good time included an evening at Jazz Alley in Seattle eating well and hearing Toots Thielemans, Kenny Werner and Oscar Castro-Neves. Thielemans is a member of that astonishing corps of world-class jazz octogenarians (Hank Jones, Marian McPartland, James Moody, Dave Brubeck, ClarkTerry, Buddy DeFranco) who seem uninterested in slowing their pace, let alone retiring. At eighty-three, his polish, harmonic daring and swing on the harmonica keep him the undisputed champion not only of that unlikely jazz instrument but of all instruments that show up in the jazz magazines’ “miscellaneous” poll categories.

When it comes to Thielemans’ level of musicianship, categories don’t matter. He would likely be as creative if he played comb and tissue paper.  Thielemans and Werner, long established as a formidable duo, became a virtual chamber orchestra with the addition of Castro-Neves’ guitar. There were moments at Jazz Alley when the piano, guitar and harmonica melded into chords so expansive and deep, it seemed impossible that they came from only three instruments. The authenticity of Castro-Neves’ Brazilian rhythms and bossa nova spirit were an essential part of the set’s air of happiness. An inveterate quoter, Thielemans now and then broke himself up with some of his allusions. He threw sly glances at Werner as he worked snatches of several other Frank Sinatra hits into his solo on “All The Way.”

On some pieces, Werner supplemented his piano with an electronic keyboard. His goal may have been to create atmospherics, but rather than enhance the sublime quality of the ensemble, his synthesizer “sweetening” diluted it. A pianist of his protean capabilities needs no digital reinforcement, as he demonstrated in brilliant solos on “The Dolphin,” “Chega de Saudade,” and an unlikely neo-samba treatment of “God Bless America.”

The trio’s treatment of the Irving Berlin classic inspired a standing ovation, then a short speech by Thielemans about how jazz and the American people drew him to move to the United States from Belgium in 1957 and to become a US citizen. He talked about his love of Louis Armstrong. Then, as an encore, Thielemans, Werner and Castro-Neves played “What a Wonderful World.” For the ninety minutes of their set, the world, the band, the audience, the club, were wonderful. Everything was wonderful.

Here are Thielemans and Werner seven years later, without Castro-Neves, at Théâtre Maisonneuve in Montreal, playing “The Days of Wine and Roses,” a song associated with Thielemans nearly from its birth.

The Rifftides wrapup report on the Ystad Sweden Jazz Festival included a brief, enthusiastic comment about a performance by the Kathrine Windfeld Big Band of her piece “Aircraft.” This young Danish composer, arranger and pianist writes for 15 young musicians from Denmark, Sweden, Norway and Poland. They negotiate her demanding charts with aplomb, intensity and obvious appreciation for one another’s talents. Following the video, I’m including their names for you to remember because we are undoubtedly going to be hearing further important work from Ms. Windfeld’s band. There is no video from the Ystad concert, but here is “Aircraft” from an earlier appearance in Copenhagen.

Bobby Hutcherson, whose vibraphone playing developed deep and complex harmonies, died on Monday at home in Montara, California. He was 75. When Hutcherson came to prominence in the early 1960s, he was in the forefront of young musicians already adept at bebop but seeking greater freedom. He expanded his instrument’s range of tonal colors, with particular attention to dramatic use of resonance, and he was open to ideas pioneered by free jazz saxophonist Ornette Coleman. Along with saxophonists Eric Dolphy and Joe Henderson, pianist McCoy Tyner, trumpeter Freddie Hubbard and other musicians in their twenties, Hutchinson flourished rhythmic and harmonic adventuring beyond bop conventions. In the title tune from his 1965 album Components, we hear a headlong sense of excitement and a bit of the time-play in which Hutcherson loved to indulge. Soloists are Hubbard; alto saxophonist James Spaulding; Hutcherson; and pianist Herbie Hancock. Ron Carter, the bassist, does not solo on this track.

In fifty years the New Orleans JazzFest has evolved from a three-day pure jazz event into a musical spectacular that also encompasses rock, folk, zydeco, gospel, and genres that may not yet have names. As a weeklong citywide gala, it is second only to Mardi Gras. Ellis Marsalis was there from the festival’s birth in 1968 and has matured into one of the city’s celebrated patriarchs—in more than one sense. He is the father of Branford, Wynton, Delfeayo and Jason, themselves celebrated musicians. Over the years Ellis has been featured on the festival, playing at the beginning for hundreds of listeners in the old Civic Auditorium and in recent years for thousands at the Fair Grounds.

During the 2014 JazzFest Marsalis pere had fun with “Sweet Georgia Brown.” He, son Jason on drums and Jason Stewart on bass played in the Faubourg Marigny neighborhood at the record store called the Louisiana Music Factory. At an electric piano rather than his customary nine-foot concert grand, Mr. Marsalis worked his pointillist way into the piece to the amusement of his sidemen.

It was impossible to hear all of the music at the Ystad Sweden Jazz Festival. I came as close as allowed by festival scheduling and the need for a minimal amount of sleep. Here are brief notes wrapping up this series of Rifftides reports on Ystad 2016.

Swiss harmonica player Grégoire Maret reached peaks of excitement when he
and drummer John Davis faced off in rhythmic flurries that amounted to mutual solos. They were particularly gripping in Maret’s “The Angel Gabriel.” The British singer Zara McFarlane vocalized a clever unison line with Maret in one piece, but in another the banal lyric of a song called “Diary of a Fool” took the edge off her effectiveness.

 

The courtyard of the Hos Morten Café was crowded for The Other Woman, a new group headed by Swedish pianist Mathias Landaeus. Landaeus’s solos streamed along highly personal harmonic lines. He is a pianist to take note of. Landaeus had solid rapport with bassist Johnny Åman and the impressive young drummer Cornelia Nilsson. In “I’ll Be Around,” the idiosyncratic vocalist Ellekari Sander interpreted the song with fragility that suited it.

 

In the Ystad Theatre, Avishai Cohen unleashed his bass, his trio and his athleticism. His concert was an experience in unremitting energy. Nearly everything Cohen, pianist Omri Mor and drummer Daniel Dor played either directly reflected their Israeli heritage or had a broad Middle Eastern inclination. An exception was Thad Jones’s blues ballad “A Child Is Born.” In it, Cohen explored and expanded the harmonies to create a moving statement.

 

A concert by vocalist, composer and arranger Iris Bergcrantz drew on her recent album. As in the recording, her band included her trumpeter father, Anders Bergkrantz; her mother, pianist Anna Lena Laurin; and her sister Rebecca singing backup vocals. The music was experimental, imaginative and successful. A haunting approach to “Eleanor Rigby” found levels of meaning beyond The Beatles. Anders Bergcrantz’s trumpet solos matched the audacity of his daughter’s concept.

 

A young Dane, Kathrine Windfeld, has assembled a big band for which she writes and arranges with brilliance, humor and originality. In her piece called “Aircraft,” repetition of a six-note figure helped establish a Scandinavian ambience that was apparent throughout the band’s set. Her arrangement set up trombonist Göran Abelli for a riotous solo that brought him huge applause. Ms. Windfeld is bound to have an important future.

 

(Thanks to Markus Fägersten and his superb Ystand festival photo staff for supplying pictures.)

As the Rifftides staff flies home, digital magic allows us to continue reporting on highlights of the 2016 Ystad Sweden Jazz Festival.

In the first of two Ystad appearances accompanying soloists, Sweden’s formidable Bohuslän Big Band backed singer LaGaylia Frazier. The Bohusläns opened the concert with “St. Louis Blues” in an arrangement that had touches reminiscent of Thad Jones and incorporated a reference to Fletcher Henderson’s “King Porter Stomp.” It had a peak moment in a Joakim Rolandsson alto saxophone solo that emulated Charlie Parker and Phil Woods without imitating or directly quoting them. Every time I hear him, Rolandsson (pictured) is increasingly impressive.

Ms. Frazier, an American who has lived in Sweden for 15 years, is a woman of a certain age who has the energy and demeanor of a hyperactive teenager. Singing all-out all of the time, she poured her dynamism into a variety of songs that ranged from the Beatles’ “With A Little Help From My Friends” through Lerner and Loewe’s (sp) “On The Street Where You Live,” Dizzy Gillespie’s “A Night In Tunisia” and Antonio Carlos Jobim’s “One Note Samba.” Rapping between songs, she described herself as a soul singer, but in “The Shadow Of Your Smile,” she included the verse and interpreted the lyric with sensitivity that had little to typecast her in any genre; it was simply good singing. Her hand jive and her dancing to Stefan Wingefors’ piano interlude could have been distractions, but she integrated them into the performance. Her jumping around and yelling during Fats Waller’s “Honeysuckle Rose” were distractions, ‘way over the top. Following the Waller and a piece by Stevie Wonder, Ms. Frazier chose the Swedish song “Cecilia Lind” as an encore, comfortably wrapping herself around its minor harmonies.

Later in the week, the Bohuslän Big Band collaborated with tenor saxophonist Joe Lovano, as he explored pieces from his quarter of a century recording for the Blue Note label. During the set, Lovano received frequent endorsement by the Bohuslän reed section as their heads shook and jaws dropped when he negotiated feats of virtuosity transcending the most advanced saxophone method books. The arrangement of his composition “Bird’s Eye View” contained a saxophone soli passage that established the Bohuslän saxophonists’ own collective virtuosity.

A few other high points of the concert:

• Pianist Wingefors’ switch to accordion for a romp with Lovano through “Streets Of Naples.”
• A gorgeous reading of Charles Mingus’s ballad “Duke Ellington’s Sound Of Love.”
• Lovano roaring through the demanding harmonic changes of fellow tenor saxophonist Joe Henderson’s “Inner Urge.”
• A great (term used advisedly) solo on “A Portrait Of Jenny.”
• Lovano indulging his Italian operatic passion in “Viva Caruso.”

The Ystad festival’s printed program describes the German pianist Joachim Kühn as “a world class musician whose playing style defies catergorization.” He lived up to that evaluation in his solo concert at the Klosterkyrkan. The stone walls and high ceiling of the 13th century church give it acoustic properties that produce a sound delay of as much as six seconds. That may be a challenge for the Klosterkyrkan’s choir. It is certainly one for the player of a nine-foot Steinway concert grand, but Kühn was unfazed. Indeed, he thrived in the resonant atmosphere. A piece that Kühn said originated with the rock band The Doors had a dissonant left-hand pattern that seemed to come from all parts of the room. A theme from Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby swelled with the peculiar mystery and beauty of that film. Kühn did not identify some of the music he played—or when he did, his heavily accented English obscured his words—but Gil Evans’s “Blues For Pablo” needed only a perfunctory introduction. Kühn played the piece with a stormy, nearly Lisztian aspect that gave way to sunshine. For his encore, he chose Ellington’s “Sophisticated Lady.” He embraced the melody and answered it with runs redolent of complex layers of chromatic harmonies that Kühn may have learned in listening to Art Tatum.

The Klosterkyrkan also hosted a pair of duet recitals involving pianists. The 83-year-old German tenor saxophonist Heinz Sauer teamed with Michael Wollny, a countryman less than half his age. The empathy they have developed in ten years of collaboration made their concert spellbinding.

Not tethered to standard form, harmonies or concepts of swing, the two played through a succession of pieces that riveted the audience’s attention. Playing or at rest, Sauer stood gazing above the heads of his listeners as if searching for something in the back of the church—or beyond. Wollny was a study in motion. He bobbed and weaved on the bench, his right foot fluttering the piano’s sustain pedal, his left jabbing the soft pedal. He reached into the instrument with his left had to pluck or swipe across strings as his right ranged through the upper octaves. Sauer often seemed to be meditating, hands to his forehead. They did not announce the names of tunes. Audience reaction indicated that no announcement was needed for Thelonious Monk’s “Evidence.” They flawlessly played the melody of Monk’s famous study in hesitancy and blew freely on the changes—and often also without regard to them. They played abstractions on “Everything Happens To Me,” working in a phrase from Billie Holiday’s “Don’t Explain” as the piece ended, and concluded with a hymn-like song appropriate to the surroundings. Listening to Sauer and Wollny is like overhearing an intimate conversation.

Next time: Another Klosterkyrkan duo, and more, from Ystad 2016.