Bassist, cellist, and composer Oscar Pettiford is in the odd position of being both legendary and forgotten (as Whitney Balliett wrote of Pee Wee Russell). If you ask any aficionado of jazz string bass playing to name a dozen favorites — living and dead — it’s likely that the names will come easily. But Pettiford’s is often not among them.
Yes, he died young, but not before performing and recording every famous musician (with some notable exceptions) in a short career. An incomplete list would include Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, Charlie Parker, Bud Powell, Miles Davis, Billie Holiday, Thelonious Monk, Dizzy Gillespie, Art Tatum, Django Reinhardt, Les Paul, Charlie Christian, Gil Evans, Sonny Rollins, Art Blakey, Woody Herman, Coleman Hawkins, Ray Charles, Stan Getz, Lucky Thompson, Charles Mingus, Zoot Sims, John Coltrane, Sonny Stitt, Julius Watkins, Ben Webster, Sammy Price, Ruby Braff, Mel Powell, Ellis Larkins, Max Roach, Shelly Manne, Billie Holiday, Red Norvo, Clifford Brown, Buddy De Franco, Phineas Newborn, Kai Winding, Roy Eldridge, Ray Brown, Lionel Hampton, Don Byas, Clyde Hart, Earl Hines, Budd Johnson, Joe Thomas, Pee Wee Russell, Jimmy Giuffre, Martial Solal, Attlia Zoller, Lee Konitz, Warne Marsh, Billy Eckstine, Cozy Cole, Shadow Wilson, Charlie Shavers, Johnny Hodges, Rex Stewart, Cootie Williams, Ed Hall, Lawrence Brown, Sonny Greer, Maxine Sullivan, Dick Hyman, Eddie Bert, Joe Derise, Ike Quebec, Jonah Jones, Buck Clayton, Helen Humes, Benny Harris, Boyd Raeburn, Serge Chaloff, Howard McGhee, Sir Charles Thompson, Wynonie Harris, Vic Dickenson, Red Rodney, Tal Farlow, Denzil Best, Jo Jones, Leo Parker, Al Haig, Al Hibbler, Nat Pierce, Bill Harris, Howard McGhee, J.J. Johnson, Art Taylor, Wynton Kelly, Lockjaw Davis, Jackie McLean, Kenny Clarke, Dave McKenna, Milt Jackson, John Lewis, Chris Connor, Hank Jones, Earl Coleman, Thad Jones, Tommy Flanagan, Donald Byrd, Billy Taylor, Chuck Wayne, Roy Haynes, Art Farmer, Gigi Gryce, Al Cohn, Frank Wess, Jimmy Cleveland, Barry Galbraith, Joe Morello, Joe Wilder, Harry Lookofsky, Jimmy Jones, Urbie Green, Ernie Royal, Herbie Mann, George Barnes, Clark Terry, Dave Schildkraut, Helen Merrill, Jimmy Raney, Horace Silver, Doug Mettome, Quincy Jones, Duke Jordan, Hank Mobley, Kenny Dorham, Cecil Payne, Toots Thielmans, Red Garland.
This suggests that Oscar’s peers respected him and called him for gigs and recordings. It’s not as if he was obscure: his career was longer than, say, Blanton’s or Steve Brown’s. But, oddly for jazz, which loves to mythologize the musicians who die young and abruptly (and Pettiford died as the result of a 1960 automobile accident) he hasn’t received the benefit of the weird reverence fans and writers have for the young dead.
Of course, it could be that bass players don’t get the respect they and their instruments deserve, but it is and was hard to ignore Pettiford on a session. He offered a rhythmic foundation that was powerful rather than obtrusive, but when he soloed, his lines have the solid eloquence that any horn player would aspire to — while seeming light rather than ponderous. And as the list of players above suggests, his musical range was exceedingly broad: he wasn’t captured on record in free jazz or ragtime, but he elevated every other variety of jazz and jazz vocal performance he was part of. Had he lived longer, he might have enjoyed the visibility of a Milt Hinton or a Ray Brown, but we have only brief moments of him on film (the 1945 THE CRIMSON CANARY) and a few seconds of his speaking voice.
Surely he should be better known.
Enough words and keystrokes for the moment: listen to his 1960 feature on WILLOW WEEP FOR ME:
and here he is, playing his own BLUES IN THE CLOSET — from a little-known 1953 television broadcast — on cello (which he took to for a time after breaking an arm in a baseball game):
And his stirring solo on STARDUST:
Now, two pieces of good news that might go some distance in making Oscar’s name and music known to a larger audience. One is that there is a YouTube channel, PettifordJazz, with sixty videos of Pettiford solos, ensembles, and compositions. That means that no one has to start collecting Oscar’s music — it is being made available to all for free.
Oscar (or “O.P.”, as his colleagues called him) also spent the last two years of his life in Europe (mostly in Scandinavia and Germany), and recorded often there. Sessions with guitarist Attila Zoller have been issued and reissued on a variety of labels (in the vinyl era, they appeared on Black Lion) and a famous 1960 concert in Essen with Bud Powell, Kenny Clarke, and Coleman Hawkins was available forty years ago. Recordings made in 1958-59 for the German radio network have now been issued for the first time on compact disc, in beautiful sound, as OSCAR PETTIFORD: LOST TAPES — GERMANY 1958 / 1959, on SWR Music.
American expatriates Lucky Thompson (on soprano sax for a gorgeous, melancholy SOPHISTICATED LADY) and Kenny Clarke (drums on the final five performances of the disc) are the “stars,” but Zoller stands out as a beautifully measured guitarist.
And although some US critics of the time might have been condescending to European players, this disc shows their equal mastery. Trumpeter Dusko Goykovich duets with Oscar on the opening BUT NOT FOR ME. Other notable players here are clarinetist Rolf Kuhn; light-toned tenorist Hans Koller; baritone saxophonists Helmut Brandt, Helmut Reinhardt, Johnny Feigl; altoist Rudi Feigl; guitarist Hans Hammerschmid; drummers Jimmy Pratt and Hartwig Bartz. The songs are a mix of standards and originals: BUT NOT FOR ME / SOPHISTICATED LADY / A SMOOTH ONE / O.P. (Hans Koller) / MINOR PLUS A MAJOR (Kuhn) / POOR BUTTERFLY / ANUSIA (Hans Koller) / MY LITTLE CELLO (Pettiford) / THE NEARNESS OF YOU / YESTERDAYS / ALL THE THINGS YOU ARE / BLUES IN THE CLOSET (Pettiford) / BIG HASSLE (Hammerschmidt) / ATLANTIC (Helmut Brandt) / ALL THE THINGS YOU ARE / BLUES IN THE CLOSET — the last two are live performances.
And just because it’s accessible and stirring, here is that film clip — from an otherwise undistinguished 1945 murder mystery, THE CRIMSON CANARY, which features Hawk, Pettiford, Howard McGhee, trumpet; Sir Charles Thompson, piano; Denzil Best, on a fast SWEET GEORGIA BROWN line by Hawkins called HOLLYWOOD STAMPEDE:
Ultimately, I think if you’d asked Coleman Hawkins, Duke Ellington, or any number of jazz luminaries, “What about this O.P. fellow? Should I listen to him?” the answer would have been a very strong affirmative. So let us do just that. These tapes were lost, but have been found: spread the word about Oscar. Remind those who have forgotten; introduce those who never knew. “Learn it to the younguns!” as the youthful protagonist of Ellison’s INVISIBLE MAN hears at the start of that novel.
May your happiness increase!
A heartfelt bravo to you for this overdue well-deserved tribute to OP. Never saw this clip of “Hollywood Stampede” before. “HS,” with this same lineup, has special meaning for me; the Capitol 78 was part of my tiny jazz collection when I was a kid. In Coleman Hawkins’ 1944 “The Man I Love,” OP’s solo — punctuated by his audible intakes of breath between phrases — is amazing. Thank you for this post!
Beautifully expressed, and dead-on. The “Oscar Pettiford Big Band Complete Studio Recordings” album is one of my favorite works of modern jazz, big band jazz, bass playing, jazz, music, art, etc.
One name I’m surprised you missed from your long list of OP’s illustrious associates is Big Sid Catlett. He and OP loved playing together and made a formidable rhythm team. While I’m here, OP’s tune The Pendulum at Falcon’s Lair, is one of the great bop lines and the arrangement on the OP Orch Vol 1 recording is wonderful. Unfortunately the sleeve notes don’t identify the arranger. Every other chart on that album is credited to either Gigi Gryce or Lucky Thompson, but not this one. Any clues?
Good catch — it must be the only time in this blog’s history I haven’t found a way to mention Sidney. He and OP work together so wonderfully on the various Esquire All-Stars issues of 1944 . . . .
I’m not so sure OP has been forgotten. For my money, he was one of the finest bassists in the business and the number of musicians your correspondent lists as having played with him suggests you will find him on a very large number of vinyl records, many of which will have been re-issued as CDs. Can I now quote some of what Milton Hinton had to say in his mighty book “Playing the Changes …
“I met Oscar Pettiford in Minneapolis, which was his hometown … the first time I saw him (was 1939) … one night after work, a couple of us went to a little local club and he [OP] was playing. I couldn’t believe my ears. He didn’t appear to be schooled. Everyrthing seemed to come to him naturally. His fingering was correct and when he soloed it was like no-one else I’d ever heard. He did everything right. I was so amazed that, when the set ended, I introduced myself and asked him to come down to the theater so he could meet some of the guys. Pettiford showed up the next day and played with Benny Payne, Cozy [Cole] and a few others in a rehearsal room backstage. Even Cab [Calloway] came in to listen … even back in those days, I knew it wouldn’t be long before Pettiford was discovered. I was right. Within a few months, I began hearing his name mentioned everywhere.”
Says it all, really, although Mr Hinton does note that OP had a “terrible drinking problem”. Even so, it doesn’t seem to have affected his professional life to any marked extent.
As a footnote, can I add that I regard “Playing the Changes” as the single book on jazz I’d take to a desert island. As a record of what our music is about, both literally and visually, it is incomparable. What a guy!
I thank you for the Milt passage — very wise and first-hand genuine. But if you ask the musicians you know to name the great string bassists, watch and see how long it takes them to get to O.P.
Thanks for this piece celebrating OP!
I read an interview with him where he says that he learned the bass by playing melodies before tackling actual “bass lines”. This might be a clue to his virtuosity and compositional melodic sensibility. There is never any superfluous note in his accompanying or soloing. His cello playing shows this even more clearly, tuning it in fourths, like a double bass, but one octave higher.
Dig this for a start:
Any recording that begins with Jo Jones’ cymbal splashes is on the right track.
As a bassist, he is in the top 4 or 5 post war stylists. It is as a composer that he is rarely mentioned. Perhaps someone has done an album of his tunes and I’ve just forgotten it, if not SOMEONE should do it-soon.
Michael Steinman does it again! I just happened upon this article. It’s great! It’s always bothered me that in the film Jazz on a Summer’s Day, there’s a two second, color clip of Oscar Pettiford—–AND THAT’S IT!!!!! no more O.P. for the rest the stinkin’ film!!! Instead of the endless shots of sailboats and kids eating ice cream, the film maker could’ve at least panned the bandstand once in a while. somewhere, on the cutting room floor, there’s more O.P.
Happy birthday, Patrick! And in today’s blog there’s a color picture of OP on the bandstand in Cleveland, 1955. I knew you were bereft.