Sorry to learn of the passing this week of trombonist Roswell Rudd (1935-2017). From his days in the 1950s as a Yale University student, Rudd showed flexibility, a penchant for harmonic subtlety, a big sound and an endearing rough humor. Through the years, he comfortably collaborated with musicians as stylistically varied as the traditionalists Wild Bill Davison, Bud Freeman and Eddie Condon, and modern adventurers like Archie Shepp, Lee Konitz, Albert Ayler and Charlie Haden’s Liberation Music Orchestra. Rudd and the singer Sheila Jordan had a particularly fruitful musical relationship. For a comprehensive obituary, see Giovanni Russonello’s article in The New York Times.
Go here for a brief Rifftides notice of one of Rudd’s last albums
It is neither Al Cohn’s birthday (November 24, 1925) nor the anniversary of his death in 1988. As on any day, it is simply a good time to listen to the great tenor saxophonist. We hear and see him in two festival performances filmed the year before he died. First, he was at Italy’s Sanremo Jazz Festival with pianist Rein De Graaf, bassist Harry Emmery and drummer Erik Ineke. They played a good old B-flat Blues, beginning and ending it with a chorus of King Oliver’s “Chimes Blues” from 1923.
When we posted this visit with Jack Brownlow a couple of years ago, response was enthusiastic and dozens of readers asked if we planned to make it an annual feature. I’m not sure that we’ll carry the commitment that far, but we are delighted to bring it to you again this year. Please enjoy the music and let the Rifftides staff know your response.
At Christmas time he brightened the season for our family with music he taped at the grand piano in the living room of his house in Seattle. Just once, when we were living in New Orleans, he made his Christmas recording using the Fender-Rhodes electric piano. Something about that instrument invested his Christmas songs with unusual sprightliness at 
up-tempos and a contemplative quality at slow ones; all with his special harmonic gift.
Nashville arrangers wrap the penetrating power of Ms. Watkins’ voice in orchestral settings that include breaks suggesting, but never fully disclosing, the studio musicians’ jazz abilities. The feeling, however, is definitely there, notably in the skilled rhythm section. Ms. Watkins is superb in “I’ve Got My Love To Keep Me Warm,†and two unusual songs new to me, “Mary Did You Know†and “Christmas In Heaven.†The verse to Martin and Blaine’s “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas†has been too seldom performed since Judy Garland first sang it in the film Meet Me In St. Louis in 1944. Ms. Watkins does it beautifully.
Curtis wrote ten new songs for this album and recorded them with a big band of musicians from the Washington, DC, area. The emphasis is on straight-ahead swing. He delivers his vocals in a confident baritone that is cheerful and consistently in tune. Except for a miasma of corniness in some of the lyrics, it’s a rewarding and entertaining collection. I confess to trepidation when I read in the notes that Curtis’s young daughter Isabella would sing with him on two pieces. Not to worry; her intonation is good, too, and her vocal personality is as pleasing as her dad’s. Satisfying instrumental solos in the band come from pianist Jeremy Ragsdale, flugelhornist Ray Caddell, clarinetist Dave Schiff and guitarist Jon Albertson.
Saxophonist Gary Foster recently asked if I remembered the liner notes that Bill Evans wrote for the 1963 Ben Webster-Joe Zawinul album Soulmates. Gary’s question led to the discovery that my LP of that treasure had somehow migrated off the shelves. I immediately ordered a CD replacement. Evans wrote infrequently, but when he did—unsurprisingly—his way with words had much in common with the evocativeness and intellectual rigor of his piano inventions. The most famous of Evans’s regrettably few ventures into written language was for the Miles Davis Sextet’s 
Twin undercurrents run through this immensely satisfying album: Palmieri’s mastery of Afro-Cuban rhythms and the deep harmonic inspiration with which he motivates himself and his musicians. The players include the veteran saxophonists Donald Harrison and Ronnie Cuber, bassist Marcus Miller and vibraphonist Joe Locke, and the rhythm section at the core of Palmieri’s bands for years—percussionists Little Johnny Rivero, Anthony Carillo, Obed Calvaire, Lusito Quintero, and bassist Luques Curtis. Drummer Bernard Purdie is a guest on the title track.
When Ornette Coleman (1930-2015) became prominent in the late 1950s, critics almost invariably described him as “iconoclastic.†In his invaluable history and appreciation of the alto saxophonist, Michael Stephans reminds us that Jelly Roll Morton, Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie made departures as dramatic as Coleman’s and each was charged by the establishment of his time with violating tradition. It may be too early to judge whether Coleman’s evolutionary role will ultimately prove as important as those examples but sixty years on, his free jazz pioneering continues to propel innovation. Stephans approaches the Coleman story with the appreciation of a working drummer, the analytical skill of a university professor and clear writing about complex musical matters. Whatever deep academic analysis of Coleman may emerge in years to come, with this eminently readable volume Stephans lays the groundwork.
In a piece that lasts less than two minutes, the purity of Jane Ira Bloom’s unaccompanied soprano saxophone in a piece titled, “Nearly (For Kenny Wheeler)†all but steals Early Americans. That is quite a feat, since in most of the album her colleagues are also master musicians—bassist Marc Helias and drummer Bobby Previte. The three call upon familiarity bred in a long history of collaboration and rhythmic like-mindedness. “Hips & Sticks,†“Rhyme Or Rhythm,†“Coronets Of Paradise” and “Big Bill†are prime examples of the trio’s ability to generate grooves and manipulate them in terms of tempo, density and coloration without sacrificing consistency of swing. In that regard. “Gateway To Progress†is notable. Helias, Previte, Ms. Bloom and engineer Jim Anderson manage to lighten the atmosphere as Ms. Bloom’s saxophone swings around the sonic spectrum. Then, amid the relative hush, they deepen the time-feel. All of the compositions in the album are Ms. Bloom’s except for Bernstein’s and Sondheim’s “Somewhere†from West Side Story. Like the piece dedicated to the late Wheeler, it presents her without accompaniment. It is—no other word for it—gorgeous in its presentation of the melody.
What would the Rifftides staff do without readers who keep us informed and on track? The always-alert Svetlana Ilicheva sent a note from Moscow about 
Mostly Other People Do The Killing has been a septet, a quintet and a quartet. For Paint , now that saxophonist Jon Irabagon, has left, the band is a trio. Whatever its size, whatever its project, MOPDTK’s bassist and leader Moppa Elliott, sees that all of its original tunes are named after towns in Pennsylvania. In this case, the towns’ names also contain the names of colors, hence the album title. Yes, there is a place in Pennsylvania called Black Horse and a farm called Blue Goose, which —coincidentally—is the name of a piece that Duke Ellington recorded twice in 1940. In his book 
Tenor saxophonist and composer Preminger timed the release of this album for the day of Donald Trump’s inauguration as president of The United States. In the months since, it has attracted considerable attention as a protest statement. Preminger’s covers of classic songs from the Civil Rights era by Bob Dylan, Sam Cooke and others achieve his goal, as do new Preminger pieces with titles llike “We Have A Dream†and “The 99 Percent.†The album is a dramatic political and cultural document. Of equal importance: Preminger, trumpeter Jason Palmer, bassist Kim Cass and drummer Ian Froman make it a musical success. Preminger and Palmer solo over the spare accompaniment with passion that intensifies in moments of mutual improvisation. The instrumentation may raise thoughts of Mulligan, Giuffre and a simple past, but the music’s thoroughly 21st Century zeitgeist is rooted in our edgy times.
Guitarist Mundell Lowe died today. He was 95. Lowe’s career began at 13 when he frequently went from his home in Laurel, Mississippi, to work at clubs in New Orleans’ French Quarter. After service in World War Two, he honed his bebop skills and became one of New York’s busiest guitarists. He worked with a cross-section of major musicians including the Sauter-Finegan Orchestra, pianist Billy Taylor, and his own quintet at The Embers and other clubs. He was in demand not only as a player, but after he moved to Los Angeles in the 1960s also as a composer for films and television series. For five years in the 1980s, he was music director of the Monterey Jazz Festival. Lowe remained active as a player well into his nineties.
The New York bassist Mary Ann McSweeney may not be the first American musician to combine these sympathetic forms, but her album of chamber music effectively covers their common ground and emphasizes the poignancy of both genres. Her group, varied in size and personnel from track to track, includes veteran classical and jazz musicians. Among them are guitarist John Hart, drummers Tim Horner and Willard Dyson and the expressive violinist Sara Caswell. In their solos, saxophonists Marc Mommas and Sam Marlieri capture various aspects of the idiosyncratic Fado warmth of feeling. Ms. McSweeney’s bass, muscular and incisive, is at the beating heart of the project. Her bowing is laden with emotional power, notably so on the title track. A highlight is Nana Simopoulos’s vocal on “Esquina Do Pecado,†composed by the late singer Amália Rodrigues, a Portuguese cultural icon. Another is Margret Grebowicz vocalizing in duet with Ms. McSweeney’s arco bass on the leader’s “Portrait of Fado.†A listener spending time with this collection is likely to come away inspired to learn more about Fado and the growing inclination of musicians to explore its spiritual connection to jazz.
several years in Los Angeles gigging and recording with large and small groups including those of Billy May, Lionel Hampton, Maynard Ferguson, Bill Holman Frank Strazzeri, Andy Simpkins and Jack Sheldon. He has been back in New York for several years. In the Encyclopedia of Jazz, critic Leonard Feather called Fahn “one of the few genuine virtuosos†on his instrument. Ms. McSweeney is the bassist on  
Jack Reilly’s music is singular, almost private, and yet it reaches beyond his personal vision. This is music that speaks to the colllective spirit of all mankind – Bill Charlap
It occurred to me around mid-afternoon that it would have been a good idea to use the band’s music as a supplement to the Thad Jones-Mel Lewis-Vanguard Orchestra Monday Recommendation (previous post). But, from the treasury of Thad & Mel performances on record and video, what to choose? The staff agreed unanimously; the band’s 1969 performance of Thad’s “Central Park North†at a 1969 concert in Denmark. As the featured soloists play, their names on the screen identify them. Everyone in the band is listed below the video.
Dave Lisik and Eric Allen tell the story of The Vanguard Orchestra and its predecessors. In a huge book illustrated with hundreds of images, they trace the orchestra from its creation by Thad Jones and Mel Lewis through decades of music that has set standards to which big jazz bands everywhere aspire. Laced with commentary and comments by current and former band members and written with admirable continuity, the book illuminates how, years after their deaths, the personalities and convictions of Jones and Lewis continue to guide the orchestra’s collective musical philosophy—even while jazz at large often seems to be shooting off in all directions. Experienced composers and performers, Lisik and Allen have put their academic talents to use in creating a well-organized and eminently readable book. It is a must for anyone interested in the Jones-Lewis mystique.
John Bolger, proprietor of the 
Desmond captured by an uncredited photographer. It shows what Mr. Bolger describes as, “typical Paul—cigarette and cheeky grin.†The charm suggested by that shot  captivated virtually everyone who knew him. It was also a major component of his playing, recognizable at once to Desmond listeners around the world. When he died in New York on May 30, 1977, he was 52 years old.
