I WISH I WERE TWINS: AN OPEN LETTER TO PAUL DASPIT of the SAN DIEGO JAZZ FEST (November 26-30, 2014)

First, these musical introductions.

Coleman Hawkins, 1935, in Holland:

Henry “Red” Allen, Buster Bailey, Hilton Jefferson, 1934:

Art Tatum, 1937:

Dear Paul,

I know you as the witty, beautifully-dressed, generous organizer of that jazz banquet called the San Diego Jazz Fest. I’ve been fortunate enough to attend this Thanksgiving banquet of sounds every year since 2010, and I’ve found it more rewarding than any turkey dinner.  And I like turkey.

This year, as you well know, the Fest will start on Wednesday, November 26, and go rollicking straight on through Sunday afternoon / early evening, November 30.

I gather that you created the schedule – the reason you are receiving this letter.

On any day or night during that the 26th through the 30th, multiple opportunities for pleasure are bursting all around the listener or viewer.

I’m picking examples at random: at 4:00 on Friday, there’s a solo piano concert. At 3:30, three other bands are playing in separate rooms.  At 4:15, the same thing.

Now, a good number of “favorite bands and musicians” are performing at the SDJF.  I’ve been coming back to the schedule since it was created, always with a nearly-queasy feeling.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but I must ask you in all seriousness, “Paul, are you trying to do us in through a surfeit of pleasure?”

I once read about an experiment conducted by researchers trying to analyze how people dealt with making choices. They assembled children around a table, empty cereal bowls in front of each.  The researchers offered the children two boxes of cereal from which they could choose.  They added another, different box of cereal.  And another.  And kept on increasing the number.  When there were a dozen boxes on the table, the children were sobbing.

I don’t need a tissue yet, but I understand this.

It’s not only the problem of choice-making.  (“If I go to see the Wildroot Sliders then I have to miss the Shearling Fleecers as well as not hearing Petite Priscilla and her Clawfoot Tub Band!”).

For me it’s also the added problem of trying to video-record everything I and others pine for so that I can share it on JAZZ LIVES.

True, I do now have two cameras and could bring two tripods, but where is the Second Assistant Cameraperson for this blog?  No fame, no health benefits, perhaps only a free breakfast. References and prior experience a must.

Paul, I thought we were friends.

What have you got to say for yourself?  Look closely here.  Is that fair?

Yours,

Michael

May your happiness increase!

MARMALADE. YES, PLEASE. (Nov. 3, 2013)

Not this.

Marmalade jar

Or these.

Marmalade kittens

You’re getting warmer.

Marmalade ODJB

Almost there.

Marmalade Bix

But what follows is nothing historical, and it exists in the twenty-first century: CLARINET MARMALADE, played with exuberant Bix-and-Tram-and-Rollini brilliance at a jam session.

To me, this performance is so hot that it should have CAUTION! in its title — near the end of the 2013 Whitley Bay Classic Jazz Party, a hot session in the Victory Pub of the Village Hotel Newcastle, featuring Torstein Kubban, cornet; Kristoffer Kompen, trombone; Andy Schumm, C-melody saxophone; Lars Frank, clarinet; Claus Jacobi, bass sax [the one and only belonging to Frans Sjostrom], Morten Gunnar Larsen, keyboard; Jacob Ullberger, banjo; Josh Duffee, drums; various unidentified dancers and pedestrians.

Recorded on November 3 or perhaps the morning of November 4, 2013 — I cn no longer remember!

I know that this exuberance will happen again at this year’s Party — which is coming around the corner in fourth gear — as it has happened every year I’ve been there. (It begins on the evening of Thursday, November 6, 2014, which is a week away.  I should begin to pack now.)

Since absurdity appeals to me almost as much as does hot jazz, I have to tell JAZZ LIVES readers that when I was documenting this video on YouTube, various helpful terms appeared at the bottom of the page to be considered as tags.  One of them (understandably) was “fruit preserves.”  Indeed.

See you in the Victory Pub, I hope.

And for another three minutes of Torstein, Lars, and Kris, here’s this lovely hot too-brief interlude on MELANCHOLY (with a serenely self-absorbed still photographer to bring the fun to an abrupt close):

May your happiness increase!

FOR IVIE: CECILE McLORIN SALVANT / DARYL SHERMAN at the WHITLEY BAY CLASSIC JAZZ PARTY (Nov. 3, 2013)

Jazz parties sometimes are stereotyped as loud — raucous affairs where one high-energy band or singer succeeds another.  This isn’t true, and I offer this tender interlude from last year’s Whitley Bay Classic Jazz Party – in honor of Miss Ivie Anderson.  The very expressive Cecile McLorin Salvant is joined here by the underrated pianist (and much-loved singer) Daryl Sherman to summon up a vanished era and the entire Ellington band of 1937 in the Mack Gordon – Harry Revel THERE’S A LULL IN MY LIFE:

And although you may be completely captivated (and rightly so) by Cecile’s singing on a first hearing, I would draw your attention to Daryl’s perfectly subtle accompaniment — with the verse.  I think Daryl’s final chord is as touching as anything that has preceded it.

LULL IN MY LIFE sheet

Thank you, dear Cecile and Daryl.  And of course, Miss Ivie.

May your happiness increase!

 

LET ME OFF DOWNTOWN: REBECCA KILGORE, EHUD ASHERIE, JOEL FORBES at MEZZROW (Sept. 23, 2014)

Rebecca Kilgore doesn’t come to New York as often as I would like, so her September 2014 visit was a real pleasure.  Fortunately, I am able to share some of that pleasure with you, with four performances from her gig at the wonderful new jazz room Mezzrow (at 163 West 10th Street, New York — phone 646.476.4346).

Becky had imaginative support from Ehud Asherie, piano, and Joel Forbes, acoustic unamplified string bass.  And her delicate floating emotional intelligence gleams even more brightly in the evocative darkness.  See what you think in these four performances: one asking a favor of the cosmos; one sweetly astonished at the power of love requited; one ebullient and joyous; one optimistically cheerful.  All four are, to me, delicately embroidered masterpieces that — by the way — swing no matter what the tempo.

MOON RAY:

ISN’T IT A PITY:

ALL I DO IS DREAM OF YOU:

I’M SHOOTING HIGH:

We’re “on a rainbow rafter” with this wonderful trio.

And just in case you’ve missed Becky’s recent triumph — recorded one day earlier at the Allegheny Jazz Party, en francais, here it is.

May your happiness increase!

SWINGTIME IN SOHO (Part One): JON-ERIK KELLSO, DAN BARRETT, CHRIS FLORY, JOEL FORBES at THE EAR INN (Sept. 14, 2014)

At The Ear Inn (326 Spring Street, Soho, New York City), the Sunday-night sessions by the EarRegulars — now in their eighth year — are always delightful. But when Dan Barrett comes back east for a visit, they’re spectacularly rewarding.  Here is the first half of the first set performed on September 14, 2014, by Messrs. Barrett (trombone and instant head arrangements); Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Chris Flory, guitar; Joel Forbes, string bass.

I could write at length about the swinging brotherhood of this quartet, about Jon’s exuberant energy, about Dan’s slippery ensemble work and brilliant solos, about Chris’ immense bluesy conviction, about Joel’s eloquent subtle simplicities, but the music can say all that and more, without words.

COQUETTE:

OUR MONDAY DATE:

THEY SAY IT’S WONDERFUL:

I SURRENDER, DEAR:

Three more to come.

May your happiness increase!

SAY FORWARD, THEY’LL SWING: MORE FROM THE IVORY CLUB BOYS AT ARMANDO’S (MAY 31, 2014): PAUL MEHLING, EVAN PRICE, MARC CAPARONE, SAM ROCHA, ISABELLE FONTAINE at ARMANDO’S

A New York jazz friend just wrote me, “Michael, are there any more videos from that Ivory Club Boys gig you posted from May 2014?  That is such a great band!”

Happy to oblige, dear NYJF, with more from that spectacular evening at Armando’s in Martinez — featuring Paul Mehling, guitar, vocal; Evan Price, electric (and electrifying) violin; Marc Caparone (sitting in for Clint Baker), cornet; Sam Rocha, string bass, vocal; Isabelle Fontaine, guitar, vocal.  They paid tribute, in their own way, to the mighty swing and joyously eccentric humor of Stuff Smith and his Onyx Club Boys.

One kind of crazy?  Yes, a second take of CRAZY RHYTHM:

Something searching and melancholy, I COVER THE WATERFRONT:

And another type of crazy, as in YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY / MOTEN SWING:

And here, for those of you unaware of the ICB, here are the other selections from that night that I’ve posted on JAZZ LIVES:

endless-summer-in-swing

double-your-fun

rhythm-crazy

from-spiritual-to-swing

bugle-call-rag

Forget the morning news for a moment.  It’s a benevolent world that has this music in it.

May your happiness increase!

FIVE BEAUTIES FROM AN AFTERNOON AT CASA MEZCAL: ROB ADKINS, DAN BLOCK, EHUD ASHERIE (October 5, 2014)

I’ve written before about my new jazz oasis, Casa Mezcal, 88 Orchard Street, which has a Sunday jazz brunch from 1-4 PM with some of my friends (who also happen to be the finest players and singers in New York).  So far I’ve been there exactly twice, but it is now my Sunday-afternoon port of call.  It is a rare pleasure to see and hear music in daylight, to have interestingly non-formulaic Mexican food, and to encounter a gracious staff.  And then there’s good lighting for the videographer who eats my food.

Two Sundays ago, the trio led by string bassist Rob Adkins (a modest, endearing fellow who plays beautifully) was pianist Ehud Asherie and reedman Dan Block, two of my heroes. Ordinarily, the ethereal and always surprising Tamar Korn is in charge (as she was on October 19 — more about that in a future posting) but this afternoon was strictly instrumental, and beautifully so.

Here are five delicacies from that afternoon:

JUST ONE OF THOSE THINGS, an early-afternoon romp:

HOW ABOUT YOU? — a song I associate with Judy Garland’s sweet early version.  And New York in October has been as warm as it might be in June:

MISTY, which requires a little explanation.  Most musicians I know loathe this song or play it with much reluctance.  Their reaction has nothing to do with Erroll Garner or with Johnny Mathis, but the song has been pulped by overexposure.  Listen, however, to the tender beauty Dan brings to this (after Ehud’s comic interlude ends):

DREAM, that Johnny Mercer classic, is usually taken as a sweet lullaby, but Dan reimagines it (with great flair) at a walking Basie tempo:

SHOE SHINE BOY was my request, since I’d heard Ehud playing the Lester solo as a swing exercise before the first set began:

I may be weary from trying to find parking, and I may get turned around on Delancey Street and have to ask for directions, but I plan to spend my Sunday afternoons at Casa Mezcal until further notice.  The music is fresh and lively (and so is the guacamole).  See you there!

May your happiness increase!