This is what we awoke to this morning. It’s not snow. It’s frozen fog. Had to share the sight.

The news of Clark Terry’s latest setback has raced through the jazz community and much of the wider world. The trumpet and flugelhorn hero, whose 91st birthday will be next Wednesday, has been suffering from diabetes. The disease has seriously affected his eyesight. Last week it led to the amputation of a leg. Reports are that he is recuperating well and is in good spirits. On his recently established blog, a message from CT’s wife Gwen includes this:

When Clark talked with me about the decision that he was facing, he said, “Don’t worry. Just because you lose your leg, it doesn’t mean you’ll lose your life.”

The blog has a guestbook page on which well-wishers are encouraged to send him notes that Gwen will read to him. The blog’s audio background begins with Clark’s original “Mumbles” recording with the Oscar Peterson Trio and continues with samples from his discography.

My friendship with CT goes back to 1969, when we became acquainted over plates of jambalaya on a park bench in Jackson Square in New Orleans. Shortly after, he volunteered to get me the factory price on a Clark Terry model Olds flugelhorn like the one he plays in the video below. Unfortunately, the horn did not come equipped with a CT sound-alike button. Here he is with his quartet in 1985 at the Club Montmarte in Copenhagen, sounding like no one else. Duke Jordan is the pianist, Jimmy Woode the bassist, Svend Norregaard the drummer. The tune is one of CT’s favorites by his former boss, Duke Ellington.

I admire Clark’s unquenchable spirit. I wish him a happy birthday and a speedy recovery.

Years ago, I saw film of a riotous Japanese jazz opera based on the traditional tale of Momotaro. The video disappeared for a while, but frequent Rifftides correspondent and prodigious blogger Bruno Leicht rediscovered it and sent an alert. To make sense of it, before you watch the video below it will help to know the story. It might also help to have a couple of shots of Ginjo sake.

ONCE upon a time there were an old man and his old wife living in the country in Japan. The old man was a woodcutter. He and his wife were very sad and lonely because they had no children. One day the old man went into the mountains to cut firewood and the old woman went to the river to wash some clothes.

No sooner had the old woman begun her washing than she was very surprised to see a big peach come floating down the river. It was the biggest peach she’d ever seen in all her life. She pulled the peach out of the river and decided to take it home and give it to the old man for his supper that night.

Late in the afternoon the old man came home, and the old woman said to him: “Look what a wonderful peach I found for your supper.” The old man said it was truly a beautiful peach. He was so hungry that he said: “Let’s divide it and eat it right away.”

So the old woman brought a big knife from the kitchen and was getting ready to cut the peach in half. But just then there was the sound of a human voice from inside the peach. “Wait! Don’t cut me!” said the voice. Suddenly the peach split open, and a beautiful baby boy jumped out.

Here’s the little I have learned about the opera. It’s from a 1980s TV variety show called What a Fantastic Night!—the brainchild of the comedian known as Tomori. He plays the old woman, the big bird and, on “Blues March,” the trumpet.

Thanks to YouTube commenter Evan Murphy, here are the times at which each tune appears on the screen: “Now’s the Time” (0:00) | “Lotus Blossom” (0:17) | “Milestones” (0:44) | “Misterioso” (1:39) | “Blue Monk” (1:52) | “Sister Sadie” (2:02) | “Waltz For Debby” (2:16) | “(No Problem)” (3:37) | “Blues March” (4:27) | “Doxy” (4:57) | “Five Spot After Dark” (5:13) | “Cleopatra’s Dream” (5:51) | “Comin’ Home Baby” (6:27) | “Maiden Voyage” (6:50) | “Donna Lee” (7:31) | “Cherokee” (8:15) | “Fables of Faubus” (8:41) | “‘Round Midnight” (9:04) | “Moment’s Notice” (9:14) | “St. Thomas” (9:45)

To read the entire Momotaro legend, go here.

Kanpai!

If you haven’t discovered the website called The Jazz Knob, tomorrow at 12:30 pm (PST) would be a good time to give it a try. In an unusual bit of web radio programming, the veteran Los Angeles jazz broadcaster Ken Borgers has announced that he will play the new Jan Lundgren trio album in its entirety. Together Again at the Jazz Bakery reunites the Swedish pianist with bassist Chuck Berghofer and drummer Joe La Barbera. Their 2008 concert came eleven years after their initial encounter, Cooking! At the Jazz Bakery, and as they were preparing their Ralph Rainger album. I’ll be writing about the new CD, but for now suffice it to say that it is quite likely the best Lundgren on record and that the trio’s empathy is not merely intact, it is intense. To listen to The Jazz Knob, go to www.jazzknob.org (that’s a link).

On the other side of North America, Bill Kirchner’s Jazz From the Archives will explore the music of Andy Gravish, a respected, little-known, trumpeter. From Kirchner’s program alert:

Gravish has been on the scene for almost three decades, but he has gotten almost no attention from the jazz press. However, some of the most discriminating jazz trumpeters I know hold him in the highest esteem. In the last decade, Gravish has divided his attention between New York and Rome, so we’ll hear selections from several CDs that feature him with his collaborator, the Italian pianist Luca Mannutza, and other Italian and American musicians.

Jazz From The Archives airs Sunday at 11 p.m. (EST) in the Newark-New York area on 88.3 FM and on the internet, here (that’s a link).

Rifftides reader and Detroit Free Press music critic Mark Stryker alerts us to an improbable happening in Chicago—a debate on an ESPN sports radio program over the authorship of “Take Five.” The story on drummer Ted Sirota’s website includes audio of the argument. From Sirota’s preamble:

I told him I was a jazz drummer and he put me right through! That’s the first time I’ve ever been treated better by saying I’m a jazz drummer! Usually they tell me to go away or go through the back door or the kitchen. Anyway, the whole thing was pretty funny. Check it out.

To listen to the rumble, click here. Sirota doesn’t identify the debating experts. Maybe one of our Chicago readers can.

Mark Stryker adds:

Not that those guys ever would, but they should have you on the show as Desmond’s biographer to talk about the song and related issues and ironies.

On a somewhat related note, there was a sports talk show here in Detroit for a while that used Lee Morgan’s “The Sidewinder” (original recording) as its theme song. I heard the host – well known as a huge Bruce Springsteen fan — refer to Lee Morgan and the song by name once, but I never heard anything like the extensive discussion about “Take Five” on the Chicago station. I always wanted to call the station here and ask if the folks knew that there were two Detroiters on that record – Barry Harris and Joe Henderson – or that Lee had been one of the great prodigies in jazz history and died under tragic circumstances, or that “The Sidewinder” had been used in a car commercial.

Jazz can show up in some pretty crazy, unexpected places — otherwise improbable films, TV shows, commercials, radio, literary references, etc. One that comes to mind is the use of Mingus’s “Haitian Fight Song” behind a love scene in “Jerry Maguire” (details at this web page).

Maybe others can give more examples …

Coda: Regarding “Jerry Maguire” — the Nanny in the film is played as a stereotypical jazz geek but he misidentifies the date of the Miles/Trane recording. Also, and I’m going from memory here, I think at the very end of the scene Tom Cruise reacts to the music (Mingus) by saying in a bewildered tone, “What is this music?” My initial read is that he’s actually breaking character but they decided to keep the line in the film.

The Dave Brubeck Quartet: The Columbia Studio Albums Collection 1955-1967

Dave Brubeck turns 91 tomorrow, December 6, and Columbia Records is releasing a CD box containing all 19 of the Columbia albums that his quartet recorded in the studio. The earliest, Brubeck Time, was released in 1955 but recorded in the fall of 1954, three years after Brubeck and alto saxophonist Paul Desmond formed the quartet. The last, Anything Goes: Brubeck Plays Cole Porter, was released in 1967 a few months before the quartet ended one of the most successful runs of any band in jazz history.

A few of the albums in the box have been widely available since their initial release. They include Brubeck Time; Time Out, which contained the chart-busting “Take Five;” Brandenburg Gate Revisited; and Jazz Impressions of Japan with the enchanting minor blues “Koto Song.” Some of the other albums made brief appearances in the United States, but after the LP era were available on CD only as expensive Japanese imports that were often hard to find. Among the rarities are the Porter collection and two albums released in 1965, Angel Eyes, songs by Matt Dennis; and My Favorite Things, a set of Richard Rodgers compositions, both sublime. Also never before on CD for US release are Jazz Impressions of the U.S.A., Jazz Impressions of Eurasia, Bossa Nova U.S.A., Jazz Impressions of New York, and two thematically related albums, Gone With the Wind and Southern Scene. Why have they been withheld from digital release until now? Perhaps the Sony/Columbia accountants could explain.

The problem for thrifty shoppers who want the previously unavailable CDs, of course, is that they are part of the $149.95 package and not available singly, at least for now. If you have a full shelf of Brubecks except for those gems, is it worth the expense to duplicate the others? Based on the quality of the playing in the Dennis, Rodgers and New York albums, it may be. Not having had the LPs of those albums for years, I am eagerly reabsorbing, among other highlights, the smoky “Sixth Sense” from Jazz Impressions of New York, Desmond’s jaunty solo on Dennis’s “Let’s Get Away From it All,” Brubeck and bassist Gene Wright challenging each other in serious fun on a quick romp through “Darktown Strutters Ball,” Joe Morello adapting himself to Indian finger drumming on “Calcutta Blues.”

The booklet included in the box contains tune listings and discographical information for each album, but no narrative, no essays placing the music in perspective. It has a few informal session photographs from Columbia’s 30th Street studio in Manhattan, including this one showing the quartet and, on the left, producer Teo Macero. Concert audiences rarely saw Desmond having this much fun.

The set traces Brubeck’s productive and often exhilarating years with Columbia before the quartet disbanded. It is not comprehensive. Their first album for the label, Jazz Goes to College (1954), was a concert recording, as were several other albums recorded on tour in Europe and the United States. The last of those concert recordings, from tapes in Brubeck’s collection, has just been released as Their Last Time Out. It was recorded December 26, 1967, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, almost literally on the eve of disbandment.

The two-CD set is primarily of pieces the quartet had played dozens, if not hundreds, of times. It includes a “These Foolish Things” with the quartet weaving abstractions that came naturally to Brubeck and Desmond after decades of further developing the ESP that characterized their collaborations from the beginning. It also has “La Paloma Azul,” which became a Desmond favorite in the years after the quartet broke up and he also recorded with the Modern Jazz Quartet in their 1971 Christmas Eve Town Hall concert. His brief solo here reduces the piece to its harmonic essence. The sensitivity of Brubeck’s solo belies the frequent accusation that he was a keyboard basher. The Pittsburgh “Take The ‘A’ Train,” shorter than some of Brubeck’s many other recorded versions, has Morello particularly vigorous in the exchange of four-bar phrases the two always enjoyed. This “You Go to My Head” may not equal the breathtaking 1952 recording the early quartet made at Boston’s Storyville in 1952, but it has moments of fine lyricism from Desmond and intriguing rhythmic displacements by Brubeck. By this time, Morello had only to set two bars of 5/4 time in introducing “Take Five” to draw applause. Desmond’s solo on his famous composition— alternating altissimo and basso profundo phrases—includes a passage of low tones startlingly reminiscent of Earl Bostic or, perhaps, Desmond’s early inspiration Pete Brown. In all, the Pittsburgh concert is a substantial addition to the Brubeck discography.

Happy 91st birthday.

Every once in a while, Retta Christie asks pianist, singer, songwriter and raconteur Dave Frishberg to be the guest on her radio program. He usually arrives with items from his private stash of rare and unusual records, tapes and cylinders. Tomorrow, Monday, December 5, is one of those days. To hear Frishberg and Christie on the quaintly call-lettered KBOO, go here from 12 to 2 pm (PST) and click on “Listen Now.”

In Portland, Oregon, there’s a radio storyteller named Lynn Darroch. He tells about ordinary people and events near home or extraordinary ones abroad or, often, about jazz. When he performs in public, he may hire a musician or two and make a video. Here’s Darroch with guitarist John Stowell and tenor saxophonist Rob Davis, prominent inhabitants of Portland’s rich music scene. The story is about Elvin Jones.

To learn more about Darroch, Stowell and Davis, and to hear and see more stories, go here.

For a couple of weeks, I’ve been waiting for permission to post photographs from the collection that Lennie Sogoloff donated to Salem State University in Massachusetts. Sogoloff was the proprietor of Lennie’s On the Turnpike, a club north of Boston that presented jazz, comics and cabaret from 1951 to 1972. In that era, it was not unusual for artists to appear in clubs for a week, two weeks or longer, not the one- or two-night gigs customary in the 21st century. The range of performers that Sogoloff hired was remarkable. It ran from budding humorists and singers (among them Jay Leno and Bette Midler) to established jazz artists, including Duke Ellington, Woody Herman, Earl Hines, Dizzy Gillespie and Miles Davis. Among the recordings From Lennie’s was Jaki Byard’s Live!, a masterpiece that—for no apparent good reason—has gone out of print and become a bizarrely overpriced collectors item. Maybe Concord Records can explain why. In the 1963 photograph above, Sogoloff is introducing trumpeter Joe Newman. Five years ago, he turned over his archive of photographs and other memorabilia to Salem State U., which has posted many of the pictures on the web.

Thanks to the university archivist, Susan Edwards, for permission to show you a few of Sogoloff’s, and his customers’, memories.

National Public Radio’s Fresh Air last night rebroadcast Terry Gross’s 2006 interview with drummer Paul Motian, who died on November 22. Motian’s conversation was like much of his drumming—low-key, definite and often surprising. Here is some of what he said.

I’m not a showpiece drummer. … I feel like I’m an accompanist. It’s my sort of thing to make the other people sound good, as good as they can be. I feel like I should accompany them, and I should accompany the sound that I am hearing and make it the best that I can — that I can do.

To listen to the broadcast, go to the Fresh Air archive.

For the Rifftides remembrance of Motian, go here.

During the years in which Art Farmer (1928-1999) played trumpet as his main horn, his muted work was a pleasure to hear. After he switched to flugelhorn in the early 1960s, his playing took on greater lyricism and depth, but because there were no flugelhorn mutes, a satisfying aspect of his sound went by the wayside. Then, in the late ‘70s he found a technician who was able to convert a trombone mute so that the flugel could accommodate it. Here’s Farmer on muted flugelhorn in 1982 with a superb rhythm section: Fred Hersch, piano; Dennis Irwin, bass; Billy Hart, drums.

I have posted this video before—but not for a couple of years—and no doubt will again. We play favorite records often. Why not favorite videos? Art’s ending cadenza alone would be worth the return visit.

For the previous “Blue Monk” appearance, other Art Farmer videos and reflections on his importance, go here.

From Washington, DC, comes news that pianist Jason Moran will be the late Billy Taylor’s successor as the Kennedy Center’s artistic adviser for jazz. From the center’s release announcing the appointment:

Moran hopes to expand the accessibility that was so important to Taylor, in part by emphasizing that music, and especially jazz, can be fun.

“ ‘Fun’ is not a very intellectual term,” he says, “but I think people like good music, people enjoy good drinks and good food, people like to move, I think people like to laugh. So, I’m really looking for ways in which, through intellectual and investigative music, we can get these feelings to occur.”

Speaking of the nation’s capitol and fun (it does exist there, away from Pennsylvania Avenue and Capitol Hill), trombonist, singer, recording artist and Wall Street Journal columnist Eric Felten and his big band have been popular for years in Washington, DC. They summon up living memories of the time when big bands were woven into the nation’s social fabric, and going to dances was entertainment for millions. Felten and company wrapped up the Kennedy Center’s “Swing, Swing, Swing” festival last Friday night with the piquant singer Nellie McKay as featured guest. The center has posted a generous video sampling of the proceedings—more than an hour. Felten, one of the best trombonists in jazz, played too few solos, but he sings well, the band is good and the customers were eager to use the dance floor laid down for the occasion. To see and hear the fun, go here (don’t click on the arrow in that little picture to your right; it’s not the video).

And listen to that bass player. His name is Michael Bowie.

In proportion to his talent, there is too little Bill Kirchner on record. The saxophonist, composer and arranger has taken digital steps to make more of his music available as MP3 downloads. Two albums present him in contrasting settings. The first, One Starry Night, finds him in concert in Chicago in 1987 with his nonet—one of the finest mid-sized bands in jazz. His guest vocalist is Sheila Jordan, whose daring and musicality are at a peak here, notably on “You’d Be So Nice to Come Home to.” Such prominent players as trumpeter Brian Lynch, tenor saxophonist Ralph LaLama and bassist Mike Richmond negotiate Kirchner’s demanding and satisfying ensemble writing and are stimulated to first-rate improvisation. The title of Old Friends (2008) describes Kirchner’s relationship with pianist Marc Copland, whose harmonic resourcefulness and reactive listening make him an inspirational accompanist. As a soloist, Copland’s ease of execution in this collection of duets is deceptive. He and Kirchner, playing soprano saxophone, interact with spontaneity and freshness that belie the challenges they set themselves. They explore at length standard songs, and originals by Johnny Mandel, Wayne Shorter and Miles Davis. Kirchner is particularly evocative in Shorter’s “Footprints.”

The internet has made it easier for film makers to go public in an effort to get funding for their efforts. Independent producers are raising money for projects about two jazz musicians, one long gone and still influential, the other very much alive, intrepid and controversial.

Kevin Mingus, a grandson of Charles Mingus, proposes a film about the bassist, bandleader and composer, whom he never met. The fund-raising website for the film describes it:

Surrounded by controversy for his polemic actions and his unpredictability, the enigmatic figure of his grandfather became a jazz icon. The documentary opens doors to unknown facets of a composer who left one of the largest musical legacies of 20th Century American music. It is the path of his grandson, looking at the life of his grandfather through the eyes of those he touched and inspired, and through the locations where he lived and composed his art. The film rediscovers both, the man and the artist: Charles Mingus.

For more about the film and the fund-raising, and to see a trailer, go here.

Co-producers Matthew Shipp and Barb Januskiewicz are working to fund The Composer, a film about Shipp, the energetic avant garde pianist. Its website describes the film as an “innovative art/music fusion project about hope, creative vision and its extraordinary spiritual power of music. No words, no conversations only sounds and music… with a surprise ending!” The film’s co-star, we are told, will be Shipp’s Fazioli piano.

The Fazioli and Shipp make an iconic pair: one of the most renowned jazz pianists playing on the most exquisitively crafted piano; contemporary jazz music pouring out of an elegant, unique vessel with a clear, pristine sound. The spotlight is shared between the two equally. Shipp’s spellbinding skill emanates from the piano, which serves as both his inspiration and his mode of expression.

Learn more and see a promotional video at the website.

Here is one of the octogenarians listed in the comments section of the Rifftides Going Like 80 (+) item that has attracted so much attention: Drummer Kenny Dennis (81) with pianist Llew Matthews and bassist Mike Gurrola in concert in Los Angeles in 2010.

“When Will the Blues Leave?” Ornette Coleman asked the question in 1958 by way of the title of a piece in his first album. In Chicago, of all places—the blues stronghold of the Midwest for nearly a century—the question is implied in concerns of musicians and club owners who are trying to keep the form alive economically. In a long weekend piece in The Chicago Tribune, music critic Howard Reich surveys the blues club scene in the Windy City.

How long can a music that long flourished on the South and West sides — where the blues originators lived their lives and performed their songs — stay viable when most of the neighborhood clubs have expired? How long can a black musical art form remain dynamic when presented to a largely white audience in settings designed to replicate and merchandise the real thing?

Reich’s story has several photo and video sidebars that make it a sort of mini-documentary. To read (and view) the whole thing, go here.

Why didn’t I think of this when I posted the Going Like 80 (+) item a few days ago? [See November 23, below.]

I just added Jim Hall and Bill Smith to the original list. It is accumulating a near-record number of comments.

Just when I thought the cycling season had succumbed to the weather, came a perfect day; temperature in the low forties, hardly any wind chill factor—nothing that couldn’t be overcome with five layers on top, two layers below, ear muffs, gloves and a foam grommet for the sunglasses. Here is some of what I saw that made the ride worthwhile despite all of that stuff.

Referring to the “Going Like 80 (+)” post of November 23, Rifftides reader Ned Corman writes:

And, of course, Paul would have been 87, if I have it right.

Yes, he was born on Thanksgiving, November 25, 1924. It has become a Rifftides tradition to observe the occasion. Lamenting Paul’s absence, one of Desmond’s favorite playing and socializing partners, Jim Hall, once said that he would have been a great old man. That makes sense; he was a great young man. Dave Brubeck said, “Boy, I sure miss Paul Desmond.”
I found this photograph among Desmond’s belongings and included it in his biography. Undated, probably from the late 1950s, it shows Paul and Duke Ellington chatting at the railing of a ship. Where they were bound, I have been unable to discover. Remembering both, let’s watch and listen to Desmond as he solos with the classic Brubeck Quartet on Ellington’s “Take the ‘A’ Train.” This was at the University of Rome in 1959.

Now, here’s Desmond with his own quartet from the Pure Desmond album (1974), with Ellington’s “Warm Valley.” Ed Bickert, guitar; Ron Carter, bass; Connie Kay, drums.

Brubeck’s not alone; boy, I sure miss Paul Desmond.

The past few days, Rifftides has been unavoidably concerned with deaths and with musicians aged 80 or older. Am I the only one ready for an infusion of youth? Grace Kelly, born in 1992, may not be an elected representative of the talented teenagers in jazz, but she gets the nod here because for several years she has been playing well and developing steadily, and I just saw her new video, and it made me feel good. See if it has the same effect on you.

To see and hear Ms. Kelly in action with an ageless man, consult this Rifftides item from earlier this year.

This is an important national holiday in the United States. To Americans observing it, the Rifftides staff sends wishes for a happy Thanksgiving. To readers around the world: we are thankful for your interest, attendance and comments.

Rifftides reader Harris Meyer called my attention to a National Public Radio story about major musical achievements of two men on this date in 1936. In their genres, they could hardly have been more different. What they had in common was greatness.

Here is the lead paragraph of the NPR item:

Nov. 23, 1936, was a good day for recorded music. Two men, an ocean apart, each stepped up to a microphone and began to play. One was a cello prodigy who had performed for the queen of Spain; the other was a guitar player in the juke joints of the Mississippi Delta. But on that day, Pablo Casals and Robert Johnson each made recordings that would change music history.

The story incorporates audio of Johnson’s blues and Casals playing Bach. You will find it here.