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Doug Ramsey on Jazz and other matters...

Other Matters: If It’s Not One Thing…

Tech-Gremlin-2…it’s another; in this case that pesky gremlin. Rifftides finally banished him after two weeks of intermittent computer attacks, so he moved on to disrupt power to the western data center that provides the energy artsjournal.com blogs need to get on the internet. Rifftides was out of business for several hours today and inaccessible to thousands of readers. The hosts have it fixed. (Fingers crossed.)

Most of my thinking about gremlins lately has been confined to cursing them, but it occurred to me that there might be gremlin music. Sure enough, there is. It’s by the prolific film composer Jerry Goldsmith for a movie called—what else?—Gremlins. Here, a suite from the score is played by the Tenerife (Spain) Film Orchestra, conducted by Mark Snow.

It turns out that since 2007 Tenerife, in the Canary Islands, has hosted an important film festival.

Twitter And Rod Levitt

Twitter and I are not strangers, but I recognize the addictive potential of tweeting and try not to get hooked. Still, occasional Rifftides announcements via Twitter turn up followers whom I, in turn, Twitter iconfollow. A new one is Ken Pickering, the artistic director of the Vancouver, Canada, Jazz Festival. He liked an item he found in the archive and tweeted about it. It was from this blog’s Neolithic era, about the late composer, arranger and bandleader Rod Levitt.

Mr. Pickering’s tweet reminded me how much I miss Levitt and how jazz now could use his rare combination of solid musicianship, adventurousness and wit. Levitt’s recorded work is increasingly hard to find. Here is that piece, revised slightly and illustrated.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

From January 15, 2007

ROD LEVITT

Rifftides reader Russell Chase writes:

Last night, my wife and I watched the 1933 movie 42nd Street on TV. I promised myself that I would listen to Rod Levitt’s LP with the same title today. I wound up playing all of the four Levitt LPs that I have. They have always rated very highly among my favorite things. Such consistently interesting writing and fine playing over a span of four LPs is hard to match.
When your name popped out of the notes of the Insight album, you were immediately nominated as the person with whom I would share my elation at having a non-CD day, and the reason why.

Well, Mr. Chase, now you have shared your elation with all of us, and that’s good; Levitt’s music deserves recognition. Rod Levitt played trombone in the Dizzy Gillespie big band that that toured Latin America Rod Levittand the Middle East in 1956, and in Gil Evans’ orchestra. For a time, he made a dependable living in the orchestra of the Radio City Music Hall. But he had a compulsion to write music, and in the early 1960s, he began turning out ingenious arrangements for an eight-piece rehearsal band. Levitt made use of audacious harmonies and spacious voicings, and many of his horn players doubled instruments, so that the octet often sounded twice its size. He adored Duke Ellington, and reflected Ellington’s influence. Yet, without embracing free jazz, he also managed to impart a rambunctious feeling of abandon, and Down Beat included him in a survey article about nonconformist composers. All of the other subjects of the piece were card-carrying members of the avant garde. I remember Levitt’s being amused, if surprised, by the company in which the magazine put him.

Over three or four years in the mid-sixties, he turned out the four albums Russ Chase mentions. They comprise a body of recordings that are fresh, evocative and enormously entertaining forty years later. The writing was daring, finely crafted and marinated in wit. Most of his players were top studio professionals who were superb improvisers. Among them were the trumpeters Rolf Ericson and Bill Berry, the pianist Sy Johnson and the saxophonists Buzz Renn and Gene Allen. Levitt’s gutsy, often raucous trombone was at the center of many arrangements, but he also fashioned delicate woodwind ensembles. None of Levitt’s three RCAThe Arrangers Cover Victor albums has been reissued on CD. Five tracks made it onto a 1988 RCA compilation CD with other works by Hal McKusick and John Carisi. The disc is difficult to track down. Amazon continues to list it, but as “currently unavailable.” Trolling the web may now and then turn up vinyl copies of Insight and Solid Ground, but 42nd Street seems to have evaporated.

For the most part, the demand by a modest-sized core of listeners for reissue of Levitt’s albums has fallen on deaf ears (also known as recording company accounting departments), but there is a happy exception. Before his company sold itself to Concord Records, Ralph Kaffel, the president of Fantasy, Inc., succumbed to years of entreaties from pesky critics and reissued Levitt’s first album on Riverside as a CD in the OJC series. That was 1963’s Dynamic Sound Patterns. In his 2003 National Public Dynamic Sound PatternsRadio review of the CD, Kevin Whitehead said, “He liked blaring harmonies and primary colors,” and that’s true, but Levitt also fashioned delicate woodwind ensembles. He knew how to use space. He was a master of balance among the sections and a creator of droll surprises. The enthusiastic cadre of admirers he accumulated with those LPs wasn’t big enough to earn him a renewal with RCA. Now that the Victor catalogue has been absorbed into the massive Sony empire, chances of the Levitts being reissued seem small. By the early seventies, possibly discouraged but a cheerful realist, Levitt began making a living writing music for advertising and turned out some of the hippest background music ever to grace TV commercials in New York. He kept the octet going as a rehearsal group, playing occasional concerts and, sometimes, simply hiring musicians to play his charts for fun. He also played for a time in the 1970s in Chuck Israels’ National Jazz Ensemble, a pioneer jazz repertory orchestra. For the NJE, he expanded the arrangement of “His Masters Voice,” Levitt’s evocative tribute to Duke Ellington. Happily, it is available in a splendid reissue CD on the Chiaroscuro label. For the past several years, Rod Levitt has been living in Vermont, largely inactive in music.

A sidebar to the story: When I was anchoring and reporting television news in Portland, Oregon, in the mid-sixties, I was addicted to Dynamic Sound Patterns. Levitt came to his hometown to visit his parents, I invited him to be a guest on a series I put together, a hybrid documentary and discussionRod Levitt Insight Cover program. It was called Insight. I told Levitt the broadcast needed theme music and asked, with trepidation, what it would cost to commission him to write it. He named what I thought was a reasonable figure. The program manager approved the deal. When Levitt got back to New York, he wrote the music, recorded it with his octet, notified me that it was ready and sent an invoice. The management reneged. They wouldn’t pay the bill. I was angry and embarrassed. When I told Levitt, he said not to worry, he would make use of the music. It became the title tune of his next album. In the liner notes, he mentioned me and the station, kindly. That’s class.

The piece stands alone, but it was also perfect for its intended use. In the unlikely event that I ever go back into television, I’ll do a documentary series, call it Insight, use that music and see that Rod gets paid for it.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Rod Levitt died less than six months following this post, on May 8, 2007.

New Recommendations

Hand pointingThe new batch of suggested listening and viewing—a long time coming—will be posted in the main column for a day or so before the recommendations move down for new exhibits. They will be in the right column under Doug’s Picks until the staff can be persuaded to post new ones. This time around, we have two trumpeters named Miles; one guitarist twice; an enchanting CD by a young singer with an (ahem) experienced pianist; and a music book held over because rereading Dostoevsky’s The Possessed has kept me occupied quite enough lately, thank you.

Roy Haynes, 88

I’ve been busy in my continuing battle with the tech monster you see on the right. He won’t leave myTech-Gremlin 2 computer system alone. I was so occupied with his depredations that I didn’t realize until the day was all but gone that this is Roy Haynes 3Roy Haynes’ 88th birthday. It would be wrong to let it go by without celebrating. I’ll do that by toasting Roy with a glass of Layer Cake Shiraz and by sharing with you one of his solos from Jack Kleinsinger’s Highlights in Jazz concerts. This was New York, 1973. Mr. Haynes’ colleagues were Howard McGhee and Jimmy Owens, trumpets; Cecil Payne, baritone saxophone; Lee Konitz, alto saxophone; Ted Dunbar, guitar; and Richard Davis, bass. There is video disturbance partway through, but the sound is fine. Roy introduces the tune.

Around the same time in the ‘70s, I dropped by the old Half Note one night after the newscast to hear Al Cohn and Zoot Sims. Roy was playing drums. He had a solo the equal of the one we just heard, and longer. He came off the stand soaking wet, grinning. “Feel better?” I said. His smile broadened and he said, “I felt good to START with.”

He usually does.

Weekend Extra: Michael Brecker

Michael Brecker 1990Just because:

Michael Brecker, tenor saxophone
Joey Calderazzo, piano
Jay Anderson, bass
Adam Nussbaum, drums
“Peep”

Juan Le Pins Jazz Festival, 1990

Artt Frank’s Double Celebration

artt frank-chet baker175tThe drummer Artt Frank is observing his 80th birthday and the impending publication of his memoir about work and friendship with Chet Baker (they are pictured together). On Frank’s website, Baker is quoted as saying, “Artt Frank is my all-time favorite drummer. He always seems to know where I’m going.” This performance from one of their 1981 gigs features impressive latterday blues playing by the trumpeter and highlights Frank’s propulsive brush work behind Baker.

For an appreciation of Frank that spun off a post about the pioneering drummer Tiny Kahn, see this piece from the early days of Rifftides.

Weekend Listening Tip: SRJO’s Music Of Thad Jones

Leo's Thad & Mel Cover

The attention-getting device above is one of the late Leo Meiersdorff’s album covers for the Thad Jones Mel Lewis Jazz Orchestra. If we have your attention, here’s an announcement from Jim Wilke’s Jazz Northwest about next Sunday’s broadcast:

SRJO PLAYS THAD JONES: FROM BASIE TO THE VILLAGE VANGUARD

Thad Jones played trumpet with the Basie Band and he brought the jazz orchestra into the modern age with his unique compositions and arrangements for the Thad Jones-Mel Lewis Jazz Orchestra at The Village Vanguard. The current incarnation of that orchestra plays every Monday night at the hallowed New York club as The Vanguard Jazz Orchestra, 47 years after it began. The music of Thad Jones still feels current and is played by jazz orchestras around the world, including The Seattle Repertory Jazz Orchestra which featured Thad Jones’ music in two sold out concerts last weekend.

Highlights from one of those concerts will air on Jazz Northwest Sunday, March 10 on 88.5, KPLU. Air time is 2pm PST. For web streaming, click on http://kplu.org, then on “Listen Live.” The concert was recorded at The Kirkland Performance Center. Included are several selections that have become jazz standards, “Three in One,” “A Child is Born,” “To You” and “Low Down.” Among the many soloists in this concert are two who performed with Thad Jones or the Vanguard Jazz Orchestra, Bill Ramsay and Mark Taylor.

In case you have forgotten how the Jones-Lewis band sounded and looked, click on the little arrow on the screen below. From the costumery, you might think that this was the 1970s.

Soprano saxophone solo: Jerry Dodgion. Baritone saxophone solo: Pepper Adams. Composer, conductor:Thad Jones.

Paul Paolicelli Reviews A Tony Bennett Biography

All The Things You Are: The Life of Tony Bennett
by David Evanier
Reviewed by Paul Paolicelli

Tony Bennett is the longest-running act from the “greatest generation” of American popular singers. His career has spanned seven decades and his popularity is as strong today as it was when he was breaking into the public’s psyche with overly-emotive tunes like “Rags to Riches.” Not only a civil rights supporter, like Sinatra, but also an activist. A man who walked across the bridge in Selma and marched to Bennett BookBirmingham to demand social change. A true mensch in many ways, but also a complete enigma to many who could never really get very close to this man. A man who, like Benny Goodman and Buddy Rich, seemed to take great delight in eviscerating his musicians after concerts, but would turn around and publically praise or financially help the least among them. A man filled with either humility or an incredible lack of self-confidence. A man quite possibly haunted by ghosts.

In his highly researched book, David Evanier tackles the Bennett complexities. It is no easy job. With Bennett, Evanier has to do double-duty since his early experiences were both intense and wide-ranging and, as he matured, he became more and more drawn into himself.

Perhaps the most formative event in Bennett’s life was World War Two. Unlike several other musicians of his generation, he didn’t serve as a performer; he was a dogface on the front lines. He served with theTony Bennett Army U.S. Seventh Army in southern Germany, mopping up pockets of German resistance in closing days of the war. This action through Bavaria meant the liberation of concentration camps. Tony Bennett, Italian kid from Astoria Heights, saw firsthand at Dachau the ultimate degradation of human beings. Saw firsthand indescribable suffering, the images of which would stay with him for the rest of his life. And like most of his generation, he didn’t talk about it much when he came home.

Bennett tells several interviewers over the years that he started his musical career as a singing waiter and he would have been happy spending his entire life doing just that. Can the man really be that simple? The question infuses Evanier’s work. While there are times when he appears to have none of the ego associated with even lesser talents, one wonders if the humble approach isn’t the equivalent of Dean Martin’s drunk act. But time and again Evanier finds those fellow musicians and professional associates who talk about Bennett’s love of the music and joy of singing. Still, the reader is left wondering…

While not an Italian American, Evanier, a native New Yorker, has a clear and touching appreciation and understanding of the Italian American experience. He goes to great lengths to describe Bennett’s youth and the role of his family in his formation as a man and musician.

Tony Bennett was not exactly an overnight success, but this book makes it clear that his talent was evident early on and that, after a modicum of schooling (he dropped out of technical school to help support the family) and his war experiences, it didn’t take him very long to get down to the business of singing. From that point on he seems to have a miraculous way of bumping into the right people who take to him immediately and help him along. And, as Evanier makes quite clear, Bennett had and maintains an Tony Bennett SF Jacketunerring sense of the types of songs he could and should sing. Perhaps alone among the popular singers of his day, Bennett had an innate sense of quality and taste and, while the listener might dispute the interpretation of the song (especially in some of the early dramatic renditions), there’s no “Come On-a My House” tragedy in the entire discography. He remained true throughout his career to his musical and artistic compass. A man who insisted on returning to Jazz after each popular success. A man who has spent his life praising his own personal heroes—Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Count Basie, Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald—and who speaks eloquently and often of their artistry and legacy. It’s clearly the music that drives him.

That is perhaps, Evanier’s greatest accomplishment with this book; he never leaves the music far behind. He describes in great detail the selections at the various times and over the course of countless recording sessions, the personnel (both musical and managerial), the highlights of the recordings and performances. He talks with hundreds of people who performed with Bennett, recorded with him, traveled with him, managed him; even with former lovers. It’s a valuable body of interviews and sourcing material.

Yet, despite all of that testimony, Tony Bennett remains a little unclear. Like his art, Bennet is colorful, dramatic, dissonant, bright, but there’s no photograph here; it’s strictly representational. This is not a deficiency of the biographer, but rather the completely illusive and evasive character that Evanier is dealing with. Evanier amasses an impressive array of first-person testimony that is often contradictory. Even the people who worked the closest with Bennett often say they don’t really know the man.

“All the Things You Are” is the perfect title for this book. Because, in the final analysis, Bennett is an awful lot of things. While no clear photograph emerges of this man and his art, a clear appreciation is the net result. Throughout, Evanier never loses his clearly articulated sense of wonder and love for Tony Bennett’s work.

Paul Paolicelli

Paul Paolicelli is the author of two acclaimed books about the Italian American experience: Dances With Luigi—a Barnes&Noble “Discover Great New Writers” selection and Los Angeles Times best seller—and Under the Southern Sun, a Sons of Italy recommended reading selection. Paolicelli is a veteran broadcast journalist who has managed television news departments and the Washington, D.C., bureau of the NBC television stations. The Rifftides staff is pleased to have him as a contributor.

Used Alto Saxophone For Sale

Speaking of John Coltrane (see the post two items down), if you’re looking for a starter saxophone for your child, here’s a great opportunity.

Coltrane ebay

Yes, that says $115,000. But, hey, shipping is free.

Before he became famous for his tenor and soprano saxophone playing, Coltrane was an alto saxophonist in the Navy and in the early part of his professional career with King Kolax, Dizzy Gillespie and Earl Bostic, among others. Of the few recorded instances of his alto work, this may be the most famous. It’s from a 1958 Gene Ammons all-star session. Ammons hosted Coltrane, fellow tenor saxophonist Paul Quinichette, baritone saxophonist Pepper Adams, flutist Jerome Richardson, pianist Mal Waldron, bassist George Joyner and drummer Arthur Taylor. If you’re in a hurry, you can move the slider to Coltrane’s solo at 6:40. My advice is, don’t be in a hurry. Everyone sounds good.

About that Coltrane alto on ebay: if you’re interested in bidding, follow this link.

The Gremlin And Infinity

Tech GremlinBlogging will be suspended while we try to subdue an invading tech gremlin. Damage so far is slight, the only casualty a printer. The Rifftides staff is doing everything possible to make sure that the incursion is terminated—with prejudice—and we send the troublemaker back to infinity, or wherever he came from.

In the meantime (sneaky transition), enjoy the classic Shorty Rogers recording of “Infinity Promenade.” Shelly Manne is the magician with cymbals. Soloists: Art Pepper, alto saxophone; Rogers, trumpet; Marty Paich, piano. What makes this recording, however, is not the soloists and not that repeated riff. It’s the mind-blowing double trumpet lead near the end by Conrad Gozzo and Maynard Ferguson, still a sort of gold standard for lead trumpeters.

Jimmy Garrison After Coltrane

Lester Perkins of Jazz On The Tube pointed out that today is Jimmy Garrison’s birthday. Garrison,Jimmy Garrison who died in 1976, would have been 79. Perkins alerted his subscribers to a 1968 video from Danish television of the bassist featured with Elvin Jones’s trio on Garrison’s composition “Sweet Little Maia.” Joe Farrell was the soprano saxophonist. Jones and Garrison had been members of John Coltrane’s quartet. When this was televised, Coltrane had been dead less than a year. Farrell was attracting increasing attention as one of his most accomplished successors.

Garrison’s 42-year-old son Matthew is also a respected bassist. He was a member of Jack DeJohnette’s band at the recent Portland Jazz Festival. For the Rifftides review of the concert, click here.

To learn about Jazz On The Tube, go here.

Weekend Extra: Michele Rosewoman & Julian Priester

Rosewoman, PriesterAt last year’s Healdsburg Jazz Festival in California, pianist Michele Rosewoman’s trio welcomed trombonist Julian Priester as their guest. They played Priester’s “End Dance” from his album In Deep End Dance (say it aloud, fast). Andy McKee is the bassist, Billy Hart the drummer. The sound quality of this video is acceptable. That—and closing your eyes while you listen—helps compensate for the fuzzy picture.

Ms. Rosewoman’s three-decade career in music that combines jazz and Afro-Cuban elements includes her leadership of the New Yor-Uba ensemble, which this spring celebrates its 30th anniversary. Over the years, Priester, Hart, Howard Johnson, Oliver Lake, Orlando “Puntilla” Rios, Pedro Martinez, Adam Cruz and an assortment of other leading American, Cuban and Puerto Rican musicians have played in New Yor-Uba. For more About Michele Rosewoman, see her website.

Portland Wrap: DeJohnette, Sex Mob, King And ACS

portland-at-nightThere’s a lot happening at night in the City Of Roses during the Portland Jazz Festival, but overlapping scheduling makes it impossible to hear many of the excellent Pacific Northwest musicians featured in clubs and hotels. During my five days in town, concerts at the big theaters precluded catching Gretta Matassa, Kerry Polizer, Mel Brown, Randy Porter, David Friesen, Rob Davis and at least a dozen other accomplished regional artists. From Montreal to New Orleans to Montreux and Tokyo, that is the 21st century style of big jazz festivals, and it is unlikely to change.

Jack DeJohnette

The first evening concert of the final weekend at PDX was by drummer Jack DeJohnette’s quartet with Portland keyboardist George Colligan, bassist Matthew Garrison, and Don Byron playing clarinet and tenor saxophone. Byron flew in from New York as a last-minute replacement for Ravi Coltrane. An array of keyboards supplemented Colligan’s concert grand. Garrison attached his electric bass to a hefty amplifier and big speakers. DeJohnette announced that the first piece would be unplanned and free. As the musicians prepared, it was natural to wonder if we were in for an onslaught. In the event, there was plenty of volume, but from the first moments of the free piece, the balance among the instruments was good.

pdx-dejohnette by sheldon -0253

Photo ©2013 Mark Sheldon

The untitled opener was pure invention, the musicians paying close attention to one another as they developed the shape of the piece. From the drums, DeJohnette set the rhythmic direction. Garrison’s distinct notes avoided the muddiness that often reduces electric bass lines to mush. There were no solos in the traditional sense, but the diatonic melodies that Colligan and Byron created offered the listeners guidelines through the stream of improvisation. DeJohnette is a melodic drummer, often playing phrases that inspired Byron to expand on them. In the course of the piece, and through the concert, Byron alternated between clarinet and tenor sax, Colligan played three electronic keyboards and the 9-foot Yamaha, often two of them at once. He moved to the grand piano for John Coltrane’s “Crescent,” playing in a way that conjured McCoy Tyner, Coltrane’s longtime pianist. DeJohnette may have been inspired in his early days by Coltrane drummer Elvin Jones, but his playing on this piece was exemplary of the individualism that long ago made him one of the music’s most identifiable drummers. Byron’s clarinet solo was notable for its intensity.

Polyrhythmic, popping and snapping, DeJohnette introduced “Ramblin’.” The performance was pianoless because Colligan produced a pocket trumpet to play the melody and an extensive solo on the Ornette Coleman piece. Byron’s tenor solo caught the Coleman spirit of freedom based in the blues. The opening notes of DeJohnette’s ballad “Lydia,” named for his wife, got a round of applause as many in the audience recognized the melody. The band also performed “Seventh D,” the energy-laden first movement of a piece from his 2009 album Music We Are. Garrison’s solo was a highlight .

DeJohnette closed with “Witchi Tai To,” Jim Pepper’s best-known composition. The tenor saxophonist (1941-1992) was based in Portland. His spirit is deeply felt in the Oregon jazz community, as it is by Native Americans and folk musicians and in roots music circles around the world. Some in the hall sang along as DeJohnette chanted the famous opening lyric. The band followed with a round of brief solos. Cheers and a standing ovation began before the tune ended. DeJohnette’s recognition was a moving way to close a concert in a city where, 21 years after his death, many people venerate Pepper.

Sex Mob
their new album, was mainly devoted to the music of Nino Rota, the composer of scores for Federico Fellini films.

Getting underway, Bernstein did not announce the tune. Rather, he shouted, “Kenny Wollesen,” triggering an opening solo by the drummer, who concentrated on cymbals and soon moved into collaboration with bassist Tony Scherr. Bernstein and saxophonist Briggan Krauss stood watching on opposite sides of the stage. Krauss now and then moved toward the wings, then forward in a creeping crouch vaguely reminiscent of Gollum in Lord of the Rings. His sax playing combines impressive technical execution and a conception bordering on chaos. Scherr’s bass, like Matt Garrison’s in the DeJohnette band, is electric, heavily amplified and resonant. More often than not, he plays it leaning forward, taking long strides toward and back from whoever is soloing at the moment. A concert by this band is more than a listening experience.

sex mob 1-mark sheldon IMG_0212

Photo ©2013 Mark Sheldon

The opener, it turned out, was the theme from Amacord. Bernstein’s slide trumpet solo featured circular breathing that allowed him to play a continuous melodic line and generate a hypnotic atmosphere. Introducing Rota’s theme from Juliet of the Spirits, Bernstein admitted that he’s never seen the movie. It’s hard to know whether having seen it would have made a difference in the wild solo he played, but it was notable for more than wildness; it made melodic sense. The band segued into Hoagy Carmichael’s “New Orleans,” then the Rota melody from La Strada. “You might call that a Hoagy sandwich,” Bernstein said when the medley ended. In the next tune, whose title went unannounced, Bernstein employed his trumpet and Krauss his alto sax to exchange phrases simulating the twittering of birds or chattering of mice.

Bernstein introduced a piece whose name he didn’t know that came from a film he said he hadn’t seen. He told the audience that the movie starred Terence Stamp as a man with an LSD problem in the Fellini section of a motion picture by three directors.* The Sex Mob version of the music featured odd little pastiches of unison horn licks, rehearsed to great precision, with Wollesen in the background driving and coloring the proceedings. Wollesen is continually busy with sticks or mallets on drums, cymbals and gongs, giving the music pulsating drive, often in an atmosphere of misty ambience. He nearly always has a deadpan expression that belies the grittiness and emotion of the music. Sex Mob enjoys assuming an air of punk rock randomness. Beneath the surface of its frequent pandemonium beats a jazz heart.

*(It was the Toby Dammit segment in the 1968 Histoires Extraordinaires, aka Spirits of the Dead.)

Nancy King

Nancy King is indelibly associated with Oregon the state and Oregon the band. At the Willingstad Theater Sunday afternoon, King and Oregon’s bassist Glen Moore had one of their rare reunions. They were the first half of her concert of duos. The second was with pianist Steve Christofferson, for 35 years one of King’s main partners in music.
pdx-King by sheldon -0052

Photo ©2013 Mark Sheldon

King and Moore opened with Rodgers and Hart’s “Mountain Greenery,” which in her expansive welcoming speech she referred to as “our theme song.” It’s on their 1995 CD Impending Bloom. Moore initiated it with rhythmic slaps of his bow on the bass strings, setting the time and the whimsy. King is a master of scat, that misunderstood and abused form. After her initial chorus she improvised a solo that any trumpet player would be proud of, if he had the range and the chops to bring it off. Moore’s plucked solo followed. He reapplied the bow for their final chorus. The set included several songs by Moore with idiosyncratic lyrics by his wife Samantha; “Alligator Dancing,” “Man in the Oven” and “Little Bronco” from their Potato Radio album and “Chihuahua Dreams” from the 1990 Oregon album 45th Parallel with King as guest vocalist.

Following intermission, King introduced Christofferson. The two opened with Frank Loesser’s “Joey Joey Joey.” Blowing into a melodica, playing its keyboard with his right hand and the piano with his left, Christofferson added poignancy, enhancing a song that King’s phrasing and low notes had already rendered an unexpectedly emotional experience. She decorated the Beatles’ “Can’t Buy Me Love” with more of her scatting, which in its musicality is like no one else’s alive.

King’s reading of “Morning of the Carnival” showed respect for the simple beauty of Luiz Bonfá’s melody and Tori Amos’s English lyric. Wordlessly using Thelonious Monk’s “In Walked Bud” as an intro, she and Christofferson transformed it into “Just Friends” and performed both melody lines simultaneously. What she called a “threefer” of “The Apple Trees,” “Young and Foolish” and “Again” was built on the happenstance that the first word of each of the last two songs was the last word of the previous one. That contrivance aside, the medley provided an interlude of reflection and beauty.

Now, the duo became a trio as Moore returned for “Poinciana.” Moore soloed for 16 bars, then Christofferson for 16 bars, and King was off on a scatting excursion that melded into a duet with Moore, then the trio, with Christofferson adding melodica to the mix. They took it out on a King high note of tonal precision and delicacy. The hometown crowd gave them—what else?—a standing ovation, standard operating procedure at this festival.

ACS

ACS is pianist Gerri Allen, drummer Teri Lynne Carrington and bassist Esperanza Spalding. Portland jazz hero Thara Memory Introduced them Sunday night. Memory is the winner of a 2013 Grammy for his arrangement of Spalding’s “City of Roses” in her Radio Music Society album. Long a champion of women in jazz and their tough taskmaster as a teacher, the trumpeter and educator recalled the time not long ago when as a child Spalding, a Portland native now 28, was at lessons “running around in her little dresses. “But,” he said, slipping into the vernacular, “She all woman now.”

pdx-acs by sheldon -0145

Photo ©2013 Mark Sheldon

That puts Spalding in good company with Allen and Carrington, at the highest level of jazz. They began their set with Wayne Shorter’s “Masqualero.” The piece was full of time-play and dependent on sympathetic reaction that requires sensing more than knowing what is happening and about to happen. Eye contact between Allen and Spalding as the piece settled was typical of the communication among the three throughout the set. Spalding set the time for “Beautiful” as smiles abounded and all three delivered splendid solos, Carrington clickety-clacking on her drum rims in support of Spalding’s choruses. Smiling broadly, Spalding took the melody lead on bass for Bob Dorough’s pungent “Nothing Like You,” then slipped into support of Allen’s lyrical solo before equaling it with her own.

With flawless intonation, Spalding bowed the opening of “Fall,” their second Shorter tune of the evening. It developed as a shared experience with Allen, a mix of romanticism and urgency. Carrington introduced Allen’s composition “Unconditional Love” as “one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever heard.” She set the tempo, the bass and piano played the melody in unison, Spalding sang a wordless vocal, and Allen soloedpdx-Spalding by sheldon -5326 impressively on her creation. Spalding took a second solo, a unison improvisation with her voice and her bass two octaves apart. She introduced the next piece as “a song you’ll probably recognize in there somewhere.” It was “If I Were a Bell,” highlighting the power, tight control and rhythmic inventiveness of Carrington’s soloing.

Introducing Eric Dolphy’s “Miss Ann,” Spalding noted that he named it for Charlie Parker’s mother. “I didn’t know that,” Allen said. What she did know was how to solo on the piece with the power of melody in octaves. Impressive all evening for her individuality, Allen’s chord voicings in Leonard Bernstein’s “Lucky To Be Me” set her apart from Bill Evans, who is so strongly identified with the tune that most jazz pianists who play it emulate his approach. Spalding played the melody of “All of You,” Carrington backing her in the beginning with patterns resembling a march that moved into 4/4 swing with drum interjections. Things freed up for a bass solo floating on Carrington’s touch with wire brushes on her snare drum and cymbals. As considerate soloists often do, Spalding revisited the melody briefly as a reminder, traded eight-bar phrases with Carrington, then took the piece home.

The encore was Charlie Parker’s “Ah-Leu-Cha.” There was delightful play between Allen and Spalding, a final Carrington solo shot through with bebop spirit, rampant smiling, and extended reaction from an audience that was reluctant to let the musicians leave the stage. But the festival was over.

The Portland Jazz Festival has grown over its ten years. It has done so with careful professional management overseen by founding managing director Bill Royston, his successor Don Lucoff and a supportive board of directors. The festival went through a rough patch during the economic unpleasantness of the past few years, but resourceful management and wide community support from sponsors and officials kept it alive. That is a credit to the city.

(The Rifftides staff gives profound thanks to Mark Sheldon for letting us use his pictures for several of these reports. To see more of Mark’s jazz photographs and other work, please visit his website).

Steve Kuhn Trio At PDX Jazz

Steve Kuhn’s Portland festival edition of his trio teamed the pianist with his longtime collaborator Joey Baron on drums and Buster Williams playing bass. The flow of Kuhn’s melodic lines, the density of his harmonies and his assured swing established him long since as one of the major trio pianists in modern jazz. The humor in his playing is not always immediately obvious, but it was evident in his first chorus of improvisation on “There is No Greater Love” that he enjoyed quoting “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” That may have been a whim of the moment or a way to draw in the audience. In any case, the set was off to a comfortable start. Baron used a butterfly touch with brushes on cymbals to create delicate patterns behind a powerful Williams solo. The bassist showed no sign of weariness despite having played the demanding previous concert by the Blakey Jazz Message group. After creative repetition in a tag ending, Kuhn closed the piece with hand vibrato on the keyboard. Sensed and seen more than heard, the vibrato had the effect of keeping the audience’s attention—and silence—until the final chord had faded.

pdx-kuhn by sheldon -4852

Photo ©2013 Mark Sheldon

Kuhn followed with “Two By 2,” a blues with altered harmonies, the title tune from his 2007 duo album with bassist Steve Swallow. Then came “Blue Bossa” by trumpeter Kenny Dorham, the first name musician to hire the young pianist in the early ‘60s. Kuhn’s unaccompanied out-of-tempo introduction was a high point of the set. He told the audience about the importance to his development of the eight weeks heDevin Phillips spent in John Coltrane’s quartet in 1960, then introduced a musician heavily influenced by Coltrane. Tenor saxophonist Devin Phillips is a New Orleanian who moved to Portland following Hurricane Katrina. He has made his mark in Oregon’s jazz community.

His dreadlocks contrasting with his impeccable business suit and sensible shoes, Phillips played Billy Eckstine’s “I Want to Talk About You” and Coltrane’s “Mr. P.C.” The choice of tunes was intended as a tribute to Coltrane. It was effective on that basis, but the guest shot with Kuhn also served to provide a major showcase for a young player of considerable potential. A favorite in his new hometown, Phillips stimulated substantial applause and cheering. Perhaps even more rewarding, he earned a smile from theBuster Williams veteran Williams for his up-tempo playing on “Mr. P.C.” Kuhn sat out Phillips’ first choruses of the famous blues, then entered with stealth and began increasing his power through several choruses. That set up Williams for a complex bass solo ending with his simply walking the 4/4 time. That, in turn, introduced a round of four-bar exchanges between Phillips and Baron, leading into the final statement of the theme. It was a stimulating performance, crafted on the fly by four canny musicians.

Phillips departed to long applause and the trio played Henry Mancini’s “Slow Hot Wind, which Kuhn laced with the flurries of 16th note triplets that have become one of his signatures. He played the piece out with a slow cool ending that subsided into a natural fade. “Stella By Starlight” was an exercise inJoeyBaron foto web reflection, rich with deep harmonies. Kuhn closed with two of his best-known compositions. For “Trance,” Baron produced red and green rods, using them to etch shimmers, splashes and whispers of sound behind Kuhn’s solo and a mesmerizing Williams bass improvisation. In the fast waltz “Oceans in the Sky,” Kuhn achieved the unique intensity that gifted players can generate in ¾ time. He built the feeling into a platform upon which Williams and Baron constructed what became not so much a duet as a mutual solo, two minds joining as one. Then Baron executed a long, melodic statement full of suspensions, silences and pauses. It was wizardry at the end of a magical set.

Next time: wrapping up the festival.

A Jazz Festival Moment: Steve Kuhn On Bill Evans

Steve Kuhn ca 1957In a Portland festival conversation at the Art Bar, interviewer Tim DuRoche questioned pianist Steve Kuhn (pictured ca 1960) about first hearing Bill Evans. “Did it rattle you a little bit?” DuRoche asked.

It did, because we were sort of on parallel paths. I heard him for the first time in 1957 up at Brandeis University, where he was doing a concert with George Russell. When I heard him play and after I listened to a couple of his recordings, I said, “My goodness, this is what I’m trying to do, but he’s already doing it, so I’ve got to somehow absorb that and then continue to find my own voice,” which I think I have over the years. But initially, it was an epiphany. Bill was like a big brother to me and, uh…

Kuhn breathed deeply, swallowed hard and held up a hand signaling a pause that lasted half a minute or so.

…Excuse me; it’s fatigue and emotion…when I came to New York he was very helpful, introducing me to different people and recommending me for jobs. So, we hung out quite a bit. He was a very special person. We stayed pretty close all of his life. Bill was helpful to me, very helpful.

You can listen to audio of the Kuhn interview and nine other PDX festival jazz conversations at the Oregon Music News podcast page.

The Bill Evans-George Russell performance of “All About Rosie” that impressed Kuhn at Brandeis is incuded on this CD.

Portland Gets The Blakey Message

Friday night, members of several graduating classes of Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers celebrated their boss. Tenor saxophonist Javon Jackson assembled the intergenerational all-star band only for their concert at the Portland Jazz Festival.

Jackson, alto saxophonist Bobby Watson, trombonist Curtis Fuller, trumpeter Eddie Henderson, pianist George Cables and bassist Buster Williams all spent time in various editions of Blakey’s combo. Drummer Lewis Nash subbed for Blakey (1919-1990), whose small bands nurtured so many future stars that it is frequently referred to as the university of Art Blakey. From the first phrases of “Are You Real?” through “Along Came Betty,” “One By One,” “Moanin’” and other pieces from the Blakey book, it was evident that the idea was a good one. The combination clicked.

Blakey Jazz Message Group

Photo ©2013 Mark Sheldon

Watson’s phrasing, dynamics, tonal variety and joyful demeanor stood out in a group populated by some of the music’s most interesting players. In a ballad medley, his “These Foolish Things” was marinated in blues character and in humor that included a deftly placed allusion to Johnny Hodges. Forty-three years following his death, Hodges’ spirit hovers over this festival and jazz at large. His tunes are in the repertoires of several artists. Soloists frequently refer to him in their improvisations. Cables’ medley choice was “Body and Soul.” He couldn’t resist inserting eight bars of “Prisoner of Love,” as pianists have since Nat Cole did it on a famous recording in the 1940s. Cables, Williams and Nash constituted a powerhouse rhythm section. Henderson followed Cables with an abstract creation he did not disclose as “You Don’t Know What Love Is” until near the end of his solo. He long ago fashioned his Freddie Hubbard and Lee Morgan influences into a personal approach. He occasionally makes judicious use of half-valve effects, as he did during “One by One.” Henderson opened his “Moanin’” solo with a direct quote of Morgan’s opening phrase on a famous 1957 recording.

Six-and-a-half feet tall, Jackson is reminiscent of Dexter Gordon in more than height. The roominess of his sound and the gliding assurance of his conception recall Gordon and, often, laconic elements in the style of Wayne Shorter during his Blakey period. The senior member of the tribute group, in his 79th year Fuller’s trombone tone has a slightly muffled quality that contrasts with his quickness of execution and the wit of his ideas. Following impressive solos by Watson and Henderson, Fuller quoted “Everything Happens to Me.” A master of conciseness who speaks his piece and gets out, his solos were short stories, not novels, as in Benny Golson’s classic “Blues March.”

A striking aspect of the band was the close attention each member paid to what the others played. There were nods, grins and sometimes “Yeah,” the jazz musician’s seal of approval. The audience’s own endorsement was a standing ovation. Their reward was an encore, “A Night in Tunisia.” Each of the Blakey all-stars played one solo chorus. When the concert ended, they strolled offstage into the wings chatting and laughing. The concert was a one-shot get-together, but the Blakeyites and the audience had such a good time, it would be surprising if the band didn’t do it again.

A Jazz Festival Moment: Four Drummers

PDX Drummer PanelConversations with musicians are valuable sidebars to performances at the Portland Jazz Festival. They allow audiences to hear artists talk about what they do. At the Art Bar, drummer and radio host Carlton Jackson rounded up four prominent drummers and asked them:

“When every element is in perfect alignment—compatible musicians, the right room, good sound—how do you approach the music?”

Here’s some of what they said.

Jack DeJohnette: “I go into an alternate space, and once I touch a cymbal or other component of the instrument, I’m off.”

Lewis Nash: “I feel a wave of gratitude to be a part of it.”

Chris Brown: “It allows me to get back to being like a baby—that sense of wonderment, discovery.”

Joey Baron: “Clock time stops. I’m right there, right then. I never know if it’s clicking until the music starts. I enjoy surprise. I want to be a part of the surprise.”

(Above, l to r, Baron, DeJohnette, Nash, Brown)

Patricia Barber And Kenny Garrett At PDX Jazz

Patricia Barber

Ms. Barber’s fans seem to admire whatever she does. The Thursday night audience at Portland’s Winningstad Theater indulged the pianist and singer’s every eccentricity. They chuckled as she spent the first two or three minutes of her set adjusting or removing her shoes. She pointed upward with a demand that someone, presumably the sound engineer, “Fix this thing.” Unhappy with something about the beginning of her first piece, she yelled a four-letter oath that materialized twice more in the course of the concert. Several people in the crowd laughed in amusement.

Patricia BarberFollowing extended keyboard noodling, the bassist and drummer came aboard and the piece developed into Thelonious Monk’s “Rhythm-a-Ning.” Sipping occasionally from a cup, frequently removing and replacing her glasses, Ms. Barber soloed with sketchy melodies undergirded by rich chords that continued in support of Patrick Mulcahy’s powerful bass solo. Mulcahy was also impressive in variations on Kenny Dorham’s, “Blue Bossa.” Barber decorated the piece with a wordless vocal whose volume became alarming every time she leaned into the microphone.

Guitarist John Kregor joined Mulcahy and drummer John Deitemyer in the rhythm section for “The Storyteller” from the recent Barber album Smash. Kregor’s solos during the evening varied from conventional swing to spacey. On some, he used electronic loop effects. He was never less than interesting. Deitemyer opened “Bashful” with a tightly articulated drum statement that Barber followed with a solo composed of intricate phrases and no apparent continuity in the melodic line. She again loudly uttered the obscenity, fully amplified. The interweaving of guitar and piano was a highlight of the piece. As she did occasionally throughout the concert, Barber added wordless vocal interjections as percussion effects.

Aside from the Monk opener, the sole standard in the set was “I Thought About You,” taken slowly. She sang the seldom-used verse and then the chorus with only Mulcahy’s bass as accompaniment. It was affecting, marred a bit only by Ms. Barber’s alteration of the Johnny Mercer lyric. He wrote,

I peaked through the crack and looked at the track,
The one going back to you and what did I do?

I thought about you.

She sang, “cracks,” “tracks” and “ones.” I quibble, but messing with Johnny Mercer is not allowed.

More than one reviewer has written that Ms. Barber’s lyrics qualify as poetry. You be the judge. Here’s part of her lyric for “Scream,” also from the new CD:

“Scream / when Sunday / finally comes / and God / isn’t there . . . . the soldier / has his gun / and the war / isn’t where / we thought it would be.”

“Scream” had further intriguing guitar by Kregor, with lots of echo. The piece ended with Ms. Barber singing a long, loud note, holding it for more than a minute in a prodigy of breath control.

Following a standing ovation, the band returned for an encore whose title was not announced. It opened with a bass solo, then went into a quirky piano-guitar unison line and a fleet piano solo. Ms. Barber leaped to her feet and reached inside the piano to pull on the strings, creating several explosions of sound. Kregor employed distortion that enhanced the rhythmic qualities of his solo. The sidemen went silent and Ms. Barber closed unaccompanied on piano, with a bluesy passage among the abstractions, and faded to a quiet ending.

She got another standing ovation. Someone in the crowd shouted, “Portland loves you.”

Kenny Garrett

Later at the Winningstad, alto and soprano saxophonist Kenny Garrett launched his quintet into a blitz of energy and volume that rarely subsided in a two-hour concert. With pianist Vernell Brown, bassist Corcoran Holt, drummer McClenty Hunter and the remarkable percussionist Rudy Bird, Garrett segued from one piece to theKenny Garrett next without announcing titles. From the opening number, which seemed to have brief intimations of “Flamingo,” the set approached pure rhythm and pure sound. For enjoyment, it may have required that the listener accept it as a mystical or spiritual experience rather than one based in conventional jazz values. Garrett’s adoration of John Coltrane is unquestionable, but he has moved well beyond the Coltrane apprenticeship of his early career into a realm of his own making. Twenty-three years ago, Garrett made an album called African Exchange Student. His attachment to the roots music of Africa has grown ever more powerful.

In several instances, the efforts of the five musicians melded together; they might have been one percussion instrument, so powerful—or overpowering—was the mass of rhythmic sound they produced. At times, surges of rhythm moved the crowd to frenzied cheering. When Garrett and Hunter or Holt faced one another in simultaneous improvisation their duets were passages of relative calm, eyes in the storm of sound.

In the opening sequence Bird (pictured) played conga drums. Later, he moved through his corner of the stage from one percussion instrument to another; wind chimes, tambourine, a variety of hand-held bells, rattles and shakers. Sometimes, he Rudy Birdstrapped a wireless microphone to his head and continued drumming or playing a shaker as he sang melodies in unison with Garrett’s saxophone. Brown soloed on piano with chords so pungent that they stood out even in the swirl and urgency of percussive sound. After a solo in which Garrett made the horn sound as if it were crying, Holt applied his bow to the bass and the two faced off in a mournful duet. Then Garrett went to the edge of the stage, seemed for the first time to notice the audience and appeared to be speaking into a stand mike. His lips were moving, but no words could be heard. That bit of stagecraft may have had a point known only to Garrett.

The final piece, or the final segment of the one piece, was comparatively slow, even elegiac. Again Bird sang or hummed in unison with Garrett’s saxophone. Using gliding slurs, Garrett briefly evoked the lyricism of Johnny Hodges. It was an unexpected turn in a concert otherwise mainly devoted to intensity.

Matt Wilson’s Arts And Crafts

Full of his customary pzazz behind the drum set and on the microphone, Wilson led two sets last night at Jimmy Mak’s, one of the prime small venues at the Portland Jazz Festival. He and his fellow Arts And Crafters hewed more or less to the repertoire of their most recent CD, An Atitude for Gratitude. For Wilson, trumpeter Terell Stafford, bassist Martin Wind and pianist-organist-accordianist Gary Versace, “more or less” is the operative term. They thrive on flexibility and the unexpected. The band is likely to surprise an audience expecting to experience a piece as they heard it on a Wilson album, and the players thrive on catching one another unawares.

Matt Wilson 4

On an older Wilson piece called “Free Range Chickens,” he pressed a flexible stick onto the rim of his snare drum, vibrating it to set up a series of doppler effects, then produced a wooden flute and played a series of minor tones that melded with the twanging. That inspired Versace to add a layer of Middle Eastern organ sounds as Wilson expanded on a boogaloo thought that had run through his doppler episode a few minutes earlier. Stafford joined Versace’s caravan, soloing with a plunger mute as Bubber Miley might have used it if Miley had been from Abu Dhabi or Dohi. When it was Versace’s turn to solo, he cranked up the exoticism. Head back, eyes closed, lip synching or singing along with the hypnotic modal lines he was playing. Stafford soloed again, this time using a Harmon mute as a plunger.Stafford Plunger “I’ve never seen him do that before,” Wind said later. Stafford switched back to the rubber plunger and ended the solo with whinnies that harkened back to the vaudevillian animal sounds that Buddy Bolden is said to have made with his horn in the early days of New Orleans jazz. Wilson wasn’t through. He played another solo in which he used a towel in place of one of his sticks. “How can he keep the time straight doing that?” a woman next to me said. They took the piece out with Stafford plungering and slowly fading the volume to a conclusion that was more felt than heard.

“What a hip audience,” Wilson said, giving the crowd credit for inspiring the band. “Crazy s___ happens.”

A few other highlights:

Wind’s masterly solo on “The Cruise Blues,” a composition of his with an extra bar that gives the piece an air of expectance.

Thelonious Monk’s “We See,” with Stafford, and then Versace, using note patterns slightly off-center from the usual chords for an effect jazz players of earlier generations called “running out of key.” The practice long since became part of the jazz tool box. It can be annoying when overdone. Stafford and Versace didn’t overdo it.

Matt Wilson StareVersace on accordion, Stafford on trumpet establishing what sounded like a MiddleEuropean folk tune, then free jazz, then Wilson and Versace in a very funny duet in which Wilson broke up the time without losing the swing. Wind soloed with his bow, using repeated notes with a variety of pitches. The piece turned out to be Wlson’s composition “Bubbles,” which he closed by reciting the poem of that name by his hero Carl Sandburg.

With Stafford sitting out, the rhythm section played “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” so moving, thanks to the pungency of Versace’s chord voicings and the delicacy of Wilson’s brush work, that the woman who earlier wondered about keeping the time straight had tears in her eyes.

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Doug Ramsey

Doug is a recipient of the lifetime achievement award of the Jazz Journalists Association. He lives in the Pacific Northwest, where he settled following a career in print and broadcast journalism in cities including New York, New Orleans, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Seattle, Portland, San Antonio, … [MORE]

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