I had heard the Creole clarinetist Barney Bigard on recordings for a long time before actually hearing him in person — at very close range — in 1972. Although he played nothing I had not heard him play before, his sound: full, round, liquid, sweet — was a revelation and continues to echo in my mind’s ear, as identifiable as any human voice.
Here is the man himself: date and place unknown, but apparently in mid-career, and wishing Francis all the best. Can anyone skilled in the archaeology of men’s fashion offer some educated guesses?
JAZZ LIVES 