Monthly Archives: June 2018

IN AND OUT OF TRADITIONS: JOEL FORRESTER at JULES (June 27, 2018)

I’ve been taking as many opportunities as I can to see, hear, and sometimes record pianist-composer-inventer Joel Forrester in this summer of 2018, because he and Mary will be in France for much of the next year, from September onward.  If you take that as an undisguised suggestion to go to one of his gigs, none of us will mind.

JOEL FORRESTER, photograph by Metin Oner

Joel is a remarkable explorer: not only does he follow his own whimsies, giving himself over to them as they blossom in sonic air, but he also is curious about forms.  He casually said at this gig (last Wednesday night at JULES (65 St. Marks Place) that one composition came about, decades earlier, when he was deciding to be a bebop pianist or a stride one.  I think the two “styles” coexist nicely in him to this day.  Here’s some evidence.  And if “traditionally-minded” listeners can’t hear and enjoy his wholly loving heretical embraces, more’s the pity.  Or pities.

Joel is also full of various comedies, and some of them come out in wordplay.  So this tune, which makes me think of Chicago, 1933,  is called THE SPERM OF THE MOMENT.  Imagine that:

Celebrating a tender domestic return (as Joel explains), BACK IN BED:

NATURAL DISASTER, which happily does not live up to its title:

GONE TOMORROW, a meditation on the passage of time, which makes me think of 11:57 PM on my wristwatch:

SHELLEY GETS DOWN, complete with siren, in honor of singer Shelley Hirsch:

An entire tradition of improvised music passes through Joel while he is busily making it his own.  We’d be poorer without him.

May your happiness increase!

Advertisements

CAN’T HELP IT IF I WONDER: TOMMY DORSEY, DUKE ELLINGTON on eBay

First, the soundtrack to get you in the mood for jazz speculation, even though the subject of this wonderful performance is romance, not authenticity of paper ephemera (anything that gives me an excuse to listen to and share Louis is always welcome):

Now, two pieces of evidence, just spotted today on eBay.  The first one comes from a Detroit newspaper, with no other details, advertising something I would have liked to participate in: a personal appearance and autograph signing by an artist I admire, Tommy Dorsey:

My questions are perhaps reasonable but at this distance, I think unanswerable.  What was the name of the record?  Should we assume that the Dorsey band was playing a gig at the State Fair?  When was this?  And (most poignantly) when can I expect the R.C.A. VICTOR DANCE CARAVAN show up to my town?

I hear some of you hissing, “Never, Michael, never!”  to which I say, “I’ll bet you think Toto is dead, too.”  The link is here — should you want this mysterious sentimental artifact for your own.

The second item also raises questions: advertised as an autographed glossy photograph of the Duke Ellington Orchestra, each member signing his name in fountain pen, a glorious photograph that I had not seen before:

And here is the Ellington link.  I was a little skeptical at first, because real on-the-spot autographs tend to be less careful, and I wondered that everyone in the band either had the same fountain pen or they passed it from one to another.  I would guess that the photograph lay flat on a table for it to be signed by all those heroes ever so neatly.  But I stopped worrying when I saw that Sonny Greer had signed “Luck always,” which is the way he signed a Jazz Panorama lp for me in the Seventies.  Perhaps someone can say why the bassist — Wellman Braud, I assume — didn’t sign.  Now there‘s a mystery.

I can’t afford the Ellington photograph, but it’s lovely to see.

If you look for me, I’ll be scanning the street for Tommy Dorsey.  And I have my own fountain pen, thank you.

May your happiness increase!

TAKE IT FROM THEM: NEVILLE DICKIE and DANNY COOTS PLAY FATS WALLER (Scott Joplin International Ragtime Festival; Sedalia, Missouri; May 31, 2018)

One of the great pleasures of the 2018 Scott Joplin International Ragtime Festival was their Fats Waller tribute concert — guess who was second row center with camera and tripod as his date?  I will share videos of the Holland-Coots Quintet playing and singing superbly, but first, something rich and rare, the opportunity to hear Neville Dickie in person.  I’ve heard him on recordings for years, but how he plays!  Steady, swinging, inventive, and without cliche.

Some pianists who want to be Wallerizing go from one learned four-bar motif to the next, but not Neville, who has so wonderfully internalized all kinds of piano playing that they long ago became him, as natural as speech.  Eloquent, witty speech, I might add.

Some might think, “What’s a drummer doing up there with that pianist?” but when the drummer is Danny Coots, it’s impudent to ask that question, because Danny adds so much and listens so deeply.  And there is a long tradition of Piano and Traps.  I thought immediately of James P. Johnson and Eddie Dougherty, of Frank Melrose and Tommy Taylor, of Donald Lambert and Howard Kadison, of Willie “the Lion” Smith and Jo Jones, of Sammy Price and Sidney Catlett, of Pete Johnson, Albert Ammons, and Jimmy Hoskins . . . and I am sure that there are other teams I have left out here.

Danny’s tap-dancer’s breaks may catch your ear (how expert!) but his steady color-filled but subtle support is what I admire even more.  He’s always paying attention, which is no small thing no matter what instrument you play.  In life.

Here are the four selections this inspired duo performed at the concert: only one of them a familiar Waller composition, which is also very refreshing.  Need I point out how rewarding these compact performances are — they are all almost the length of a 12″ 78 but they never feel squeezed or rushed.  Medium tempos, too.

A NEW KIND OF A MAN WITH A NEW KIND OF LOVE comes, as Neville says, from a piano roll — but this rendition has none of the familiar rhythmic stiffness that some reverent pianists now think necessary:

TAKE IT FROM ME (I’M TAKIN’ TO YOU) has slightly formulaic lyrics by Stanley Adams, but it’s a very cheerful melody.  I knew it first from the 1931 Leo Reisman version with Lee Wiley and Bubber Miley, which is a wondrous combination.  But Neville and Danny have the same jovial spirit.  And they play the verse!  Catch how they move the rhythms around from a very subtle rolling bass to a light-hearted 4/4 with Danny accenting in 2 now and again:

Then, the one recognized classic, thanks to Louis and a thousand others, I’VE GOT A FEELING I’M FALLING.  Neville, who certainly knows how to talk to audiences, is a very amusing raconteur in addition to everything else.  And the feeling I get when he and Danny go from the rather oratorical reading of the verse into tempo!

Finally (alas!) there’s CONCENTRATIN’ (ON YOU) which I know from recordings by the peerless Mildred Bailey and Connie (not yet Connee) Boswell: I can hear their versions in my mind’s ear.  But Neville and Danny have joined those aural memories for me:

What a pair!  Mr. Waller approves.  As do I.  As did the audience.

May your happiness increase!

“WAITER, PLEASE, A HUNCH AND SOME WATERS!”: ANDREW OLIVER and DAVID HORNIBLOW PLAY MORTON

I’m so glad these two indefatigable fellows continue offering us musical presents.  That’s Andrew Oliver at the piano (supple, exact, swinging) and David Horniblow playing clarinet (his Tonation and Phrasing can’t be beat).  As always, you may learn more about their Complete Morton Project here and subscribe to their YouTube channel here.  I am pleased to see that the number of subscribers is now more than one hundred: art like this deserves the widest possible audience.

SEATTLE HUNCH, which I can only characterize as “jolly”:

and the more pensive MUDDY WATERS BLUES:

Two ruminations came to mind, along with the first half of this morning’s coffee (an aid to imaginative thought).  One: we forget the depth of Morton’s catalogue of compositions.  I suspect that most people versed in this idiom could name a dozen of his pieces, but David and Andrew, wondrous excavators, are just about halfway through one hundred.

Two: the first song sent me to inquire, however shallowly, into the etymology of “hunch,” as in having an intuitive notion, a feeling, a guess.  The origins are vague, but it goes back to around 1620, as a push, a shove, a thrust.  I envision two people on the street, one nudging the other — if only to mutely say, “Don’t step in that,” or “Look at who’s coming down the street!”  There are, of course, all the speculations about physical deformity and good luck, but those I will leave you to explore on your own, preferably not in comments.

What Morton’s hunch about Seattle was, for this morning, will remain mysterious as well.  He also had a hunch about or in Stratford, now that I remember.  Since he also made a living hustling the suckers at the pool table, I wonder if one or the other hunch was “It’s now time to get out of this burg, and soon.”  An intuitive fellow.

But the music!  The music is luminous.  Another great gift from Andrew, David, and Mister Jelly.

May your happiness increase!

OUR PRIDE AND JOY: RAY SKJELBRED, SOLO, at the SAN DIEGO JAZZ FEST (November 26-27, 2016)

Those of us who have heard Ray Skjelbred play the piano will not be at all surprised that he is also a poet of words and images, captured at a different keyboard.

Sycamore

One day all the leaves blow away.
I have been worrying
about the wrong things.

Let those words take up residence inside you before moving on, in a southerly direction, to the rest of this post.  You can read more of his poetry at the link above.

Ray has written a sketch of his development as a poet, starting as a boy who “got up early to listen to the birds in the courtyard of our apartment building,” which tells me more than a hundred pages of analytic prose by an outsider would.

A rare and deep fellow.

Most of us encounter Ray when he has settled himself on the piano bench and is ready to fill us with sounds and colors, as he did at the 2016 San Diego Jazz Fest.  Here is my earlier presentation of music he created there on November 26, 2016.

And more.  I will preface these selections by saying only that tenderness is so rare in life, and certainly more so in jazz played for audiences.  Let Ray’s melodic explorations, gentle and whimsical, move into your house.

Joe Sullivan’s MY LITTLE PRIDE AND JOY:

“a tiny shred” of I AIN’T GOT NOBODY, with a beautiful ending that loops around to the opening phrase of the verse:

A version of THE WAY YOU LOOK TONIGHT that has the quiet intent seriousness of a hymn at the start:

Ray told me that he thinks of Joe Sullivan or Ginger Rogers in this scene from SWING TIME — so if you haven’t seen it recently, you might want to steal three minutes from your day and dream into this world of lovely possibilities:

May your happiness increase!

THEY KEEP KEEPIN’ ON: ANDREW OLIVER / DAVID HORNIBLOW PLAY MORTON

More from the Complete Morton Project, with never a letup: Andrew Oliver, piano, and David Horniblow, reeds.  They seem so supercharged that even I, who spend more time at the computer than my MD would like, lag behind.  Here’s a roundup of recent delights.

From Morton’s 1938 solo session, HONKY TONK MUSIC:

and Morton’s paean to his common-law wife, Anita Gonzales, SWEET ANITA MINE:

and the rather dark and somber, I HATE A MAN LIKE YOU, recorded by Morton and Lizzie Miles in 1929:

I wouldn’t feel right ending this blogpost on that particularly dark note, so Andrew and David romp for us through THE NAKED DANCE, which must have been exhausting as well as thrilling:

Not surprisingly, Andrew and David and their colleagues have to eat, pay utility bills and rent, do laundry — all things that require funding — so in addition to watching these free videos (that concept unhinges me a bit when I consider an economy for artists who offer us such beneficences for nothing) — I encourage you to support them in tangible ways.  If you live in England or thereabouts, go to gigs — the Dime Notes, the Vitality 5, and others; if you are not so close, you can support their efforts buy purchasing CDs, and get some fine music for yourself in this fashion, through a monthly series of e-78s (what a gentle oxymoron of epochs contained there).

David explains: “So this month’s Vitality Five e78 – available on Spotify, Itunes, Deezer etc etc, features a couple of things I did for the band. Firstly the spooky faux-exotic ‘Sphinx’ – originally recorded by the Original Dixieland Jazz Band in London, 1920. The ODJB prided themselves of their supposed roughness and musically illiteracy (although that was more hype than reality). As a contrast, ‘Deep Blue Sea Blues’ pays homage to two of the great sophisticates of 1920’s saxophone, alto player Bobby Davis – ably recreated by Michael McQuaid – and the high priest of the bass sax, Adrian Rollini. Follow the link if you fancy a listen https://vitalityfive.com/…/06/17/sphinx-deep-blue-sea-blues/.”

Here’s a sample of their May e-78 of EVERY EVENING:

Truly remarkable.  And generous in ways hard to imagine but glorious to receive.

May your happiness increase!

MONSIEUR HUCK, AVIATEUR

I don’t know if Daniel Huck, alto saxophone, vocal, has a pilot’s license.  But he can certainly soar, do loops and rolls like no one else.  The cheerful-looking man in the mauve shirt, his reading glasses perched on his nose, has surprises for those unacquainted with him.  (As an aside, I know some finicky readers will turn away from this post.  “Who is that?  I never heard of him.”  Too bad.)

This band is called (I believe) JAZZ A BICHON, and these nice videos (there are more) were recorded by the musician-videographer Jeff Guyot at the Hermes Jazz Festival in Frejus, France, on June 10 of this year.  The personnel is Shona Taylor, cornet, vocal; Guy Champeme, clarinet, alto; Marc Bresdin, clarinet, alto, tenor; Philippe Anhorn, piano, vocal; Jean-Pierre Dubois, banjo, tenor guitar; Eric Perrion, tuba; guest star Daniel Huck, alto, vocal.  I knew M. Huck’s work from the Anachronic Jazz Band, but these videos are a special pleasure, building from peaceful to electrifying by my choice.

Here’s a very sweet introduction to M. Huck, on the irresistible tune HONEY.

But wait!  There’s more!  A performance that reminds me of Lillie Delk Christian’s TOO BUSY:

That wonderful one-chorus explosion makes me think of Little Louis — as well as Leo Watson and the recent vocals of Lee Konitz (since time is a field and not a series of beads on a string).  If you can watch it just once, without bobbing your head, you are made of genetic material unlike mine.

And the roaring finale — hilarious and astounding all at once.  Two choruses on SUSIE, from the Wolverines by possibly circuitous routes:

Isn’t M. Huck splendid — singing lines that others couldn’t sing or play — rambunctious, joyous, and precise as well.  It’s a very cloudy day here, with rain predicted, but the sun is out because of him.  Thanks to Jeff Guyot for the videos.  You might want to subscribe to his YouTube channel: it’s better than pharmaceuticals.

May your happiness increase!