Monthly Archives: October 2018

MR. WALLER SWINGS BY (Part Two): THE HOLLAND-COOTS JAZZ QUINTET at the SCOTT JOPLIN INTERNATIONAL RAGTIME FESTIVAL (Sedalia, Missouri: May 31, 2018)

From left: Marc Caparone, cornet; Brian Holland, piano; Danny Coots, drums; Evan Arntzen, reeds; Steve Pikal, string bass.

On my most recent visit to my electro-cardiologist (don’t worry, now) we were discussing nutrition, as we often do, and she said, kindly but vehemently, about olive oil, “You know, Mr. Steinman, fat fuels the brain!”  Or at least that’s what I think she said.  I preferred to hear it as “Fats fuels the brain!” which — as medical advice — is even more sound.  And true for me.

The Holland-Coots Jazz Quintet has a special affinity for the music of Fats Waller — his own compositions as well as those he made his own.  It’s not surprising: Mister Waller’s particular swing and playfulness fits well with this contemporary group’s joyous approach.

If the fellows above are not familiar to you, you’ve been missing out on quite a lot of good jive (do you know their debut CD, which is also a Fats mini-concert?): from left, Marc Caparone, cornet / vocal; Steve Pikal, string bass; Danny Coots, drums; Evan Arntzen, reeds / vocal; Brian Holland, piano.

One of the high points of my 2018 was the Scott Joplin International Ragtime Festival (May-June, Sedalia, Missouri) was an evening concert devoted to Fats’ music.  I was there with my camera — wild electro-cardiologists couldn’t keep me away — and here is the first part of the HCJQ’s Fats set.  Notice that they honor the original recordings but they don’t copy them.

WHOSE HONEY ARE YOU? (a song by Danny’s great-uncle, J. Fred Coots, in a performance that has everything — vocal effects front and back, Evan’s whimsical vocal, and a scorching stop-time chorus by Marc):

The 1929 MINOR DRAG (or is it HARLEM FUSS?  You decide):

Two hot, one sweet: Evan’s crooning LET’S PRETEND THAT THERE’S A MOON:

Something from Marc Caparone, a most amenable sort: I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR YOU:

More to come from this fine bunch of rascals.  I’m following this band to the STOMPTIME cruise, my maiden voyage, so to speak, in spring 2019.  Details here.

May your happiness increase!

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CHARLIE PARKER in SWEDEN (1950): “$3000 or BEST OFFER (FREE SHIPPING)” / KID ORY and RED ALLEN in DENMARK (1959)

Bird went to Sweden, and here’s singular proof.  The eBay link is here and here are some impressive photographs of the holy relic:

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and some aural evidence also:

Kid Ory and Henry “Red” Allen toured Europe in 1959: here, a Danish collector got the band’s autographs:

and this is the link.

The band did more than sign autographs!  Pay close attention to Henry Red in his late, musing phase:

May your happiness increase!

OF COURSE, THEY WEREN’T “TRAINED SINGERS”!

Anna Moffo, one of my mother’s favorite sopranos: my definition of a “trained singer.”

Everyone of us has pet theories: there’s a secret way to fold fitted sheets; day-old bagels, toasted, are better than fresh, and so on.  You, no doubt, have yours.

One of mine that is relevant to JAZZ LIVES is that often, singers who never sing because they are busy playing are the best singers of all.  I don’t mean those who are clearly identified as singers — Louis, Jelly, Teagarden, Cleo Brown — but those instrumentalists who have recorded once or twice only.  So I assembled a host of my favorites, leaving out scat choruses.  Some recordings were inaccessible: Sid Catlett’s OUT OF MY WAY, Basie’s HARVARD BLUES (where he, not Jimmy, takes the vocal) Ed Hall’s ALL I GOT WAS SYMPATHY — but this is, I hope, a pleasing, perhaps odd offering.  I present them in no particular order, except for Lester being the last, because that recording so touches me.

James P. Johnson, 1944 (with Frank Newton, Al Casey, Pops Foster, Eddie Dougherty).  The story is that Alan Lomax thought that James P. was a blues pianist when he interviewed him for the Library of Congress — and compelled him to sing this.  I don’t know: James P. is having a good time:

Coleman Hawkins, 1936, highly impassioned (when was he not?):

Vic Dickenson, crooning in 1931 with the Luis Russell Orchestra:

Vic — nearly fifty years later — singing his own composition with Ralph Sutton:

Benny Carter, aiming for Bing and having a dear good time in the process, 1933.  (This has been one of my favorite records since 1974.  Catch Benny’s trumpet solo and clarinet solo.  And Sid Catlett pleases.)  Those clever lyrics aren’t easy to sing at that tempo: ask Dan Barrett:

And another helping of Benny-does-Bing, gliding upwards into those notes.  Another favorite:

Yes, Art Tatum could sing the blues.  Uptown, 1941:

I save this for last, because it leaves me in tears.  Lester Young, 1941, and since this is the only copy of a much-played acetate, there’s a lot of surface noise.  Be patient and listen deeply:

Little is known about that recording, but I remember learning that one side of it was a dub of SHOE SHINE BOY by Jones-Smith, Inc., and this — a current pop tune with glee-club embroideries — was the other.  It’s been surmised that this was a demo disc for Lester’s new small band that he hoped to make flourish after leaving Basie.  Some of the sadness, to me, is that the attempt worked poorly, and although Lester loved to sing, there is only one other recording (the 1953 IT TAKES TWO TO TANGO) that exists.

These singers go right to my heart.

May your happiness increase!

“IT MEANS THAT THEY’RE GRAND”: The HOLLAND-COOTS JAZZ QUINTET at the EVERGREEN JAZZ FESTIVAL (July 28, 2018): BRIAN HOLLAND, MARC CAPARONE, DANNY COOTS, STEVE PIKAL, EVAN ARNTZEN

The original:

And then sweetly Americanized, with label credit to young Bobby Hackett, 1937:

An action shot of the Holland-Coots Jazz Quintet in 2018 (Marc Caparone, cornet / trumpet; Brian Holland, piano; Danny Coots, drums; Evan Arntzen, reeds; Steve Pikal, string bass):

And not simply a still photograph, but ten minutes of the band in action at the 2018 Evergreen Jazz Festival, showing why they are booked for major festivals and will star on the STOMPTIME jazz cruise — April 27 to May 4, 2019).

May your happiness increase!

A NOTE FOR THE BURGLARS, 2018

Dear Gentlemen or Ladies Who Might Enter My Apartment, Uninvited, During My Absence,

Some thoughts to make your lives easier.

  1.  Please watch your step.  There are cardboard boxes of Louis buttons all through the living room.
  2.  If you accidentally knock over a pile of CDs or books, I would take it as a great kindness if you would — to the best of your ability, and time permitting — put it back as it was.  Nothing upsets a homeowner more than an ungracious burglar.
  3.  On that same note, please put the seat down when you are through.
  4.  Help yourself to whatever you like in the refrigerator, but (again, time permitting) please wash whatever plates and utensils you might use.
  5.  There is very little of monetary value in the apartment, so if you look in my sock drawer for stacks of currency or gold coins, I fear you will be disappointed.  There are quarters on the kitchen counter, for laundry and the parking meters.  Feel free.
  6.  I would very much appreciate if you would leave me the autographed jazz photos on the wall.  You don’t want the avenging ghost of Sidney Catlett to plague you, do you?
  7.  There is a Banner 78 of BELIEVE IT, BELOVED, by Henry Red Allen on one of the turntables.  Please, only take it if you have a turntable yourself and a proper stylus.  Otherwise it is not worth the effort of properly wrapping it in bubble paper for your getaway.

Why am I writing this?

I will indeed be away from my apartment from October 25 to 29, more or less, at the Jazz Jubilee by the Sea in Pismo, California.  Why?  To enjoy the festival, to meet new friends, and to hear and see my beloved friends make music.  (I’ll have a video camera or two as well, should you worry about such things.)

I know that I will be showing up to enjoy the work of Larry Scala, Dawn Lambeth, Marc Caparone, Dave Caparone, Carl Sonny Leyland, Steve Pikal, Danny Coots, the Au Brothers, Three Blue Guitars, the Creole Syncopators, Chloe Feoranzo, Bob Schulz, Katie Cavera, the Shake ‘Em Up Jazz Band, and more.  I might pay a call on a few others, although if people reading this post expect me to make a full longitudinal video survey of the festival, neither my legs nor my aesthetic inclinations allow for such breadth.  (At any point in the festival, five groups are playing simultaneously in five locations.  Choices must be made.)

You’ll have to get out of your chair and be there in person your ownself — a radical thought for those of us accustomed to having the world come to us through cyberspace and for free.

For more information, click Pismo Jazz Jubilee by the Sea.

And a postscript for the burglars, or at least the one portrayed above.  I admire the striped shirt, but once one attains a certain girth, perhaps a nice paisley?  Horizontal stripes, alas, are not slimming at all, even if they are traditional.

Here’s the Red Allen 78 (or at least the music) I’d like to keep:

Here’s the flip side (now a completely archaic phrase):

May your happiness increase!

THEIR JELLY ROLL IS SWEET (DAVID HORNIBLOW, ANDREW OLIVER, a/k/a THE COMPLETE MORTON PROJECT)

Here are two versions of Jelly Roll, which may be merged and considered by the imaginative:

Incidentally, this is not just any jelly roll: this is Martha Stewart’s jelly roll. Take note.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then, there’s the Complete Morton Project (David Horniblow, reeds; Andrew Oliver, piano): totally satisfying but without a calorie count.

Here are the latest hot dishes from Andrew and David.

I seem to remember that Mr. Morton named this for a waitress in a  bar, who must have been lovely:

A paean to cross-species nocturnal choreographies:

Finally, the famous one we’ve all been waiting for, in honor of Porter King:

Incidentally, they say it can’t be beat.

May your happiness increase!

THE WINDS IN THE WILLOWS: TAMAR KORN’S WILDWOOD RAMBLERS (June 17, 2018)

It’s October in New York, and the air is appropriately cooler.  I know that cold weather is coming on, and that isn’t a pleasant thought.  So I will present some wonderful warm music from late spring of this year, free-floating and joyous, performed amidst the trees by Tamar Korn and her Wildwood Ramblers, thanks to Brice Moss.  The Ramblers (as I hope you know by now) were Dennis Lichtman, Evan Arntzen, Sean Cronin, and Adam Brisbin.  Oh, the beauties they created and so generously gave to us.

Here and here are the performances I’ve posted earlier (I think there are sixteen).  This is Part Four or Part Five, depending on what kind of math is your usual procedure.

As to Tamar herself, I’ve been a devoted follower since 2009.  Once I took this portrait photograph in the darkness.  Someone, seeing it, said derisively to me (with the air of a middle-schooler mocking a romance) “You LOVE her!” and I said the only thing I could say, “Of course!”

Photograph by Michael Steinman

 

 

 

 

 

Here are three more reasons to love them all.

JAZZ ME BLUES (“Come on, Professor, and Jazz me!” — something no student has ever said to me, and that’s a good thing.):

DEEP NIGHT, with heartfelt harmonizing from Tamar and Evan:

YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY, a riotous romp, suitable to end a glorious day of music.  Don’t miss Evan’s nose flute interlude!  And, as always, such a privilege to be there and to capture these sounds for you and perhaps for posterity:

May your happiness increase!