Monthly Archives: December 2020

REWARDING PROXIMITY (Part Two): BOB WILBER, JON-ERIK KELLSO, MARTY GROSZ, VINCE GIORDANO (Jazz at Chautauqua, Sept. 21, 2008)

The holy relic of 1940 . . .

coming alive in the present tense, here:

thanks to Bob Wilber, soprano saxophone; Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Marty Grosz, guitar; Vince Giordano, string bass.  For Part One (THAT’S A PLENTY) and more explication, click here.  Today, our breakfast menu has one item, Fats Waller’s airbrushing of THE BOY IN THE BOAT into SQUEEZE ME:

Delightful.  Timeless.  And this Big Four played three more.  No fractions.

May your happiness increase!

JOYOUS PLENITUDE (Part One): BOB WILBER, JON-ERIK KELLSO, MARTY GROSZ, VINCE GIORDANO (Jazz at Chautauqua, Sept. 21, 2008)

Evoking this, nearly seventy years later:

in this wonderful place.  Magical indeed.

It was a Sunday morning, 10:30 or so, and perhaps half of the audience was deep in contemplation of their breakfasts on September 21, 2008.

But magic larger than bacon and coffee was being revealed to us. We can revisit it now: festival director Joe Boughton’s idea to recreate the Bechet-Spanier Big Four of Blessed Memory (1940, Hot Record Society: Sidney Bechet, Muggsy Spanier, Carmen Mastren, Wellman Braud) with living Masters: Bob Wilber, clarinet and soprano; Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Marty Grosz, guitar; Vince Giordano, string bass.  Five songs were performed, each a Hot Benediction:

I had no video empire then — no collection of cameras, tripods, batteries, external hard drives — and I recorded this quite surreptitiously.  But I didn’t want it to vanish.  For you, for me, forevermore.

May your happiness increase!

LAGNIAPPE: HAL SMITH’S “ON THE LEVEE” JAZZ BAND (Part Three) at the REDWOOD COAST MUSIC FESTIVAL: BEN POLCER, JOE GOLDBERG, CHARLIE HALLORAN, KRIS TOKARSKI, ALEX BELHAJ, JOSHUA GOUZY, HAL SMITH (May 12, 2019)

Whatever musical project Hal Smith dreams up will be melodic and swinging, and his ON THE LEVEE JAZZ BAND is a fine example.  I’ve posted videos from many sets this band has played — at various festivals — and here are a few more, performed on May 12, 2019, at the very gratifying Redwood Coast Music Festival.  The first part of that set is here and — as if by magic! — the second is here.  (In the amateurish candid photo below, something good is happening in the rhythm section — the usual procedure!)

Three more splendid interludes from the band — Hal, drums; Joshua Gouzy, string bass; Alex Belhaj, guitar; Kris Tokarski, piano; Joe Goldberg, clarinet; Charlie Halloran, trombone; Ben Polcer, trumpet.

GRACE AND BEAUTY, by Kris Tokarski, Joshua Gouzy, Hal Smith:

SOMEDAY SWEETHEART:

PANAMA:

There will be more videos to come from this band at the Redwood Coast Music Festival, and I dream of a 2021 reunion there . . . .

May your happiness increase!

 

THE AUTOGRAPH DANCE, CONTINUED

Yes, Billy Banks!

Once I was a hero-worshipping autograph-seeker (“hound” is so dismissive). Beginning in 1967, I asked Louis, Teddy Wilson, Jo Jones, Vic Dickenson, Sonny Greer, Buck Clayton, Bobby Hackett, Zoot Sims, and others, for theirs.  Oddly, only Jo, who had a reputation for being irascible and unpredictable, asked my name and inscribed my record “To Micheal.”  Other musicians I would have liked to ask but either found them intimidating, or — since I was a criminal with a poorly concealed cassette recorder — thought it best to stay hidden.

Autograph-seeking presumes reverential distance.  I am a Fan, you are The Star.  The Fan approaches the Star, timidly, politely, holds out a piece of paper or some other object, and asks for a signature or an inscription.  In that ten-second interchange, the Fan feels seen, and the Star may feel exhausted or be gratified by the appearance of a Fan or a line of them.  (In my literary life, I asked Seamus Heaney, Paul Muldoon, Richard Ford, and Julian Barnes to sign books.  And Whitney Balliett.)

But I no longer chase Stars.  Were I to have asked Jim Dapogny, Connie Jones, Jake Hanna, or Joe Wilder for “an autograph,” they would have found the request strange, because I had been talking or eating with them as a presumed equal.  I am sure the anthropologists have a name for this kind of cultural transgression, as if your mother made special waffles for your birthday and you left her a tip, even 25%.  In my world, at least, many of the Stars have become Friends: whether formality is a thing of the past or my stature has changed, I have no need to investigate.

I will say that, a few years ago, when a musician-friend of mine, thinking to praise me, said I was “the best fan” he knew, I snapped, “I’m not a Fan!” and then explained what I associated with the term.  He changed his designation, to what I don’t remember, and it felt better.

Yet I think autographs are sacred — here is a photograph that Sidney Catlett held and wrote on.  The Deity comes to Earth for thirty seconds and touches down.  I have bought or copied pieces of paper signed by Pete Brown, Rod Cless, Henry “Red” Allen, Pee Wee Russell (who wrote his first name as two separate words, should you wonder), Adrian Rollini, Claude Hopkins, and more.

I continue to keep track of such holy relics on eBay, as people who follow JAZZ LIVES know.  In that spirit, here are manifestations of the autograph dance.

Someone came to Cab Calloway — anywhere between 1942 (when the record was issued) and his death in 1994, and asked him to sign this lovely purple OKeh 78, which he did, with his signature phrase, in the white ink used for record labels:

I have seen enough Cab-signatures to think this one authentic.

And here he is — in his best passionate mode, with a very early reading of Alec Wilder’s classic:

This autograph’s closer to home for me:

Again, completely authentic.  But from what I know — from my own experience of Ruby (and this could have been signed any time between 1954 and 2002) I am reasonably sure that when the admiring Fan approached him, Ruby would have said something dismissive, because he disdained his early work vehemently.  I recall when I first met him in 1971, praising his MY MELANCHOLY BABY on a new Atlantic recording by George Wein’s Newport All-Stars, and Ruby’s response was terse, curt, and precise, “THAT shit?”  Difficult to find shades of ambiguity in that response.

Here’s Ruby’s ELLIE (one of his few compositions) from that date, with Johnny Guarnieri, Walter Page, Bobby Donaldson:

Some artists, remarkably, used the occasion to impart a message — in this case, a moral lesson.  Saxophonist Don Lanphere, later in life, was born again and changed his life completely . . . so much so that an inscription became a chance to spread the Gospel:

It feels as if Don had more than a momentary acquaintance with Debbie, Ron, and Bob, but I may be assuming too much.

Here’s his beautiful DEAR OLD STOCKHOLM from the 1983 sessions, a duet with pianist Don Friedman:

Those three examples suggest face-to-face contact, and certainly a few words being exchanged.  The closing artifact, here, comes from another dance entirely.  For instance, I have a photograph signed by Connee Boswell, in her distinctive hand, and then personalized by her secretary, and I presume this all was done by mail, that the Fan wrote to Miss Boswell asking for an autographed picture — and that Connee, sometime, somewhere, sat down with a pile of them and signed her name a hundred or five hundred times in a sitting, and the photos could then be sent off.  (Better, mind you, than Benny Goodman requiring people who worked for him to copy his signature onto photographs.)

I had to do some quick research to find out (to remind myself) that the 8-track tape was popular between 1965 and the late Seventies . . . it was replaced by the smaller, more flexible cassette tape, which could also be recorded on.  I saw these tapes and players in action, but neither my parents nor I had an 8-track deck in our respective cars.

But some people did.  Thus . . .

I note with amusement the ages of the attractive couple on the cover: would you think that in 1970 they would be close-dancing to Harry rather than the Stones?  I doubt it.  And inside:

This was on sale on eBay for a very low price: $10 plus 3.99 shipping, and I asked a dear friend who admires Harry if he wanted it as a gift, and he snorted and said, “Please,” in the way that people do when they really mean, “I’ll kill you.”  I amused myself by imagining the scene of the person or couple coming across the dance floor to Harry at the set break and asking him to sign their new treasure, which he did quickly and without fanfare.  But I was wrong, because a return to eBay showed two other signed sets, which suggests to me that Harry spent some tedious hours at home or in a hotel room, signing set after set, box after box.  Hence:

At least those purchasers got a “Sincerely.”  I remember sets packaged by the Longines Symphonette Society, but can’t recall whether they were offered on television after 11 PM, and whether the autographed sets cost more.

Here’s a favorite recording by Harry, the October 1939 SLEEPY TIME GAL, in three tempos, with just the rhythm section — Jack Gardner, piano;  Brian “Red” Kent, guitar; Thurman Teague, string bass; Ralph Hawkins, drums:

I hope you noticed the profound Louis-influence there, starting with the opening references to SLEEPY TIME DOWN SOUTH.  It’s the perfect segue to this delightful photograph — place, date, and photographer unknown (thanks to Loren Schoenberg for the Facebook “Rare Jazz Photos” group) of two men beaming love at each other.  Feel free to invent appropriate dialogue:

Heroes.  Oh, such heroes.

May your happiness increase!

SUNDAY NIGHTS AT 326 SPRING STREET (Part Twenty-Nine) — WE NEED SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO: SESSIONS AT THE EAR INN, featuring THE EarRegulars (2007 – the Future)

Grab your coat, grab your hat . . . at least in theory.

We’re continuing with the brilliant music, romping or pensive — created by the EarRegulars on September 26, 2010: Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Scott Robinson, tenor saxophone; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Pat O’Leary, string bass:

The Ear Inn, 2012 Photograph by Alexandra Marks

ON THE ALAMO:

concluded:

and Bob Barnard, cornet, in a properly Louis mode, sitting in for Jon-Erik, for CHINATOWN, MY CHINATOWN:

Then, a glorious exploration of Ray Noble’s THE TOUCH OF YOUR LIPS:

concluded:

My calendars tell me that this is the last Ear Inn / EarRegulars posting I will do in this most dramatic year, 2020.  I will continue to share the enthralling music from the recent past into 2021 — as long as it takes for us to be able to meet again in the temporal-physical universe.

Chronicling these precious evenings is a bittersweet pleasure, but the joy of celebrating this music and the wonderful people who so generously create it is nothing but sweet.  See you on the other side, at 326 Spring Street.  We live in hope.

May your happiness increase!

“HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS”: JANICE ANDERSON and CHRIS DAWSON (December 2020)

This post is tardy, but it’s my fault.  Janice Anderson and Chris Dawson — that lovely pair who sing and play — published this holiday offering two weeks ago and I should have shared it with you then.  But, rather like finding something delicious in the refrigerator, still fresh, that you forgot to enjoy on the assigned day, their musical presentation still delights me.  Even if you are playing this while putting the house back in order, it will still bring happiness:

I so admire Janice’s unerring warmth and sincerity, and Chris’s playing always makes me feel that the universe is on the right swinging path.  (Perhaps next year he will bring the cornet out of hiding.)  I wish I had them as neighbors!

Janice and Chris volunteer their services and create music in support of Mt. Olive Lutheran Church of Santa Monica — which has offered a concert series for many years.  If you feel generous because of the generous music, there are many ways to support Mt. Olive as well.  All the ways to do this are noted below the original video presentation.

May your happiness increase!

FOR THE MOMENT, DREAMLAND WILL HAVE TO DO

At least for now, face-to-face meetings still seem fraught.  So this wonderfully sweet song seems an alternative, perhaps.  Whether “Dreamland” was an actual amusement or an imagined nocturnal lovers’ rendez-vous, I leave to you.  In either case, the song presents possibility, more so than I’LL SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS, where dreams must suffice because there’s no chance of an actual meeting.  But enough philosophy.

From 1909 (one of Tim Gracyk’s beautifully detailed presentations):

Fifty years later, Bing and Rosie, with strings attached:

And the 1938 explosion that started this chain of thought, the delightful Condon-Gabler alchemy that turned old sweet songs into Hot Music for the ages:

As an aside, Allen Lowe’s CD sets and book, THAT DEVILIN’ TUNE, have brought me much pleasure: well worth investigating here.

May your happiness increase!

“FROM THE LAND WHERE PALM TREES SWAY” (December 25, 2020)

As you might have guessed from my last name (which isn’t LIVES) I grew up looking at Christmas as something to get through.  And so there’s very little “official” Christmas music I embrace: Johnny Guarnieri’s SANTA’S SECRET; Mark Shane’s Nagel-Heyer CD, WHAT WILL SANTA CLAUS SAY? Louis’s WHITE CHRISTMAS, with its unusual emphasis on the final word of the lyric.  In a pinch, Hampton’s GIN FOR CHRISTMAS, but that’s a stretch.

So I report with pleasure that friends of mine, brilliant joy-makers, created two sweetly rocking versions of this pineapple-scented Christmas song, which I am embarrassed to say I had never listened to until now.  But it takes its place as the Official JAZZ LIVES Christmas Performance, and there’s even an alternate take.

“Mele Kalikimaka” (pronounced [ˈmɛlɛ kəˌlikiˈmɐkə]) is a Hawaiian-themed Christmas song written in 1949 by R. Alex Anderson. The song takes its title from the Hawaiian phrase Mele Kalikimaka, meaning “Merry Christmas.” One of the earliest recordings of this song was by Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters in 1950 on Decca.

The BIG FIVE . . . are Robert Young, tenor saxophone; Jeff Hamilton, piano, arranger; Bill Reinhart, banjo and executive producer; Jessica King, vocal; Mikiya Matsuda, National resophonic lap steel guitar; Clint Baker, string bass.

And before you click: they’re just wonderful — easy tender slightly amused melodic swing.  You can hear them smiling.

and the alternate version:

When I look at the new videos on YouTube from “Epiphonatic,” and see that it has only 82 subscribers to this channel, I think, as I often do, “What is wrong with people?”  So get there and get your joys.  Free, buoyant, and one size fits all.  And have a very delightful Christmas.  Eat some fresh pineapple.

May your happiness increase!

PEOPLE SAY THE NICEST THINGS ABOUT PETER

Yesterday, I posted a video of Ray Skjelbred and his Cubs performing BIG BOY here, and the response was so enthusiastic that I thought, “Let’s have another one right now.”

Ninety-five years ago, people were praising Peter — first instrumentally (Herb Wiedoft, Glen Oswald’s Serenaders, the Broadway Dance Orchestra, Paul Specht, Alex Hyde, Red Nichols)  — then vocally (Arthur Fields with Sam Lanin) and the 1932 “Rhythmakers” sessions that Philip Larkin thought the highest art.

Here, as a historical benchmark, is a 1924 version by Glen Oswald’s Serenaders (recorded in Oakland, California)  — a varied arrangement, full of bounce:

“Peter” remains a mystery – – but we do know that he was “so nice,” as proven by four versions of this secular hymn of praise to his romantic ardor recorded in April and May 1932 by the Rhythmakers, a beyond-our-wildest-dreams group featuring Henry Red Allen, Pee Wee Russell, Eddie Condon, Joe Sullivan, Jack Bland, Al Morgan, Zutty Singleton. If you don’t know the Rhythmakers sessions, you are honor-bound to do some of the most pleasurable research.

But here we are in 2014, with Ray Skjelbred and his Cubs at the one-day al fresco jazz party held at Cline Wineries in Napa, California. This wondrous little band — having themselves a time while making sure we do also — is Ray, piano; Kim Cusack, clarinet; Clint Baker, string bass; Katie Cavera, guitar; Jeff Hamilton, drums. Members of the Cubs have been known to burst into song, but this time Peter’s praises must be imagined or implied.  However, Ray and the Cubs are clearly nice and more: no ambiguity there.

The Cubs continue to delight me for the best reasons.  They don’t wear brightly-colored polo shirts; they are humorous but not jokey; they play hot and sweet music — honoring everyone from Frank Teschemacher and Eddie Condon to Jimmie Noone and Jeni Le Gon — without putting on the kind of show that more popular “trad” bands get away with.  They are what Milt Hinton called GOOD MUSIC, and I celebrate them.  Tell the children that such a thing exists, please.

And a digression (what’s a blog for if the CEO can’t digress?) — OH PETER — no comma in the original — was composed by Herb Wiedoft, Gene Rose, and Jesse Stafford.  Wiedoft played trumpet and led his own orchestra, where Rose played piano and wrote arrangements; Stafford played trombone and baritone horn.  And here is the original sheet music, verse and chorus.

I take a deep breath and point out that “peter” has been slang for “penis” since the mid-nineteenth century. . . . so “When you are by my side / That’s when I’m satisfied,” and “There’s nothing sweeter, Peter, Peter,” in the chorus, has always made me wonder, and the verse, new to me, contains the lines, “I’m missin’ / Your love and kissin’ ? And lots of other things too.”  The lyrics do state that Peter is a real person who has been “stepping out,” but if the song were titled OH SAMMY, would it have the same effect?  (What of Morton’s 1929 SWEET PETER, by the way?)  Perhaps you will propose that I need a more virtuous life, but I wonder if this song was sung with a wink at the audience, even though it’s clearly not a double-entendre blues of the period.  Do think on it.  And please admire my superb restraint in not titling this post IS YOUR PETER NICE?

Note: any connections between BIG BOY and OH PETER that readers might perceive are their own responsibility.

May your happiness increase!

SUCH A BIG BOY!

Ray Skjelbred is one of my favorite artists — his scope is too large to be confined to “pianist,” and his Cubs are a favorite band of mine.  I can’t say that the pandemic has brought an onslaught of pleasures, but the absence of real-time gigs has sent me back to my archives, and I find many unseen video-recordings of Ray and his Cubs, which it is my pleasure to share with you.

The Cubs are a winning team, although they don’t employ the usual sporting goods: rather, they create uplifting music no matter where they are or what the tempo is. This performance of a song associated with Bix Beiderbecke and the Wolverines took place during Ray’s mid-summer 2014 California tour (here, they are playing for the Napa Valley Dizieland Jazz Society). The Cubs — bless them! — are Ray, piano, occasional vocal, ethical guidance; Jeff Hamilton, drums and slyness; Clint Baker, string bass, occasional vocal, moral rectitude; Katie Cavera, rhythm guitar, occasional vocal, warmth; Kim Cusack, clarinet, occasional vocal; whimsical sagacity. If you know Claude Hopkins, you’ll get the reference to THE TRAFFIC WAS TERRIFIC, but the Cubs’ vibrations come right through.

Speaking of “big boys,” a story of dubious relevance.  Decades ago, my friend Stu (who reads this blog) and I went to lunch at a kosher delicatessen.  I was hungry and ordered a good deal of food; Stu had eaten and said to the very theatrical woman holding her pad and pencil, “I’ll just have an order of fries,” which we did as a matter of course then.  She looked aghast and said, mixing mock-horror and mock-solicitude, “Such a small portion for such a BIG BOY?” but Stu resisted the Sirens’ song.

All I will say is that this performance — by the clock — is a small portion; it would fit on a V-Disc, but it is a tableful of joy.  And there’s more to come.

May your happiness increase!

BOBBY SHINES HIS LIGHT: BOBBY HACKETT, ART HODES, PLACIDE ADAMS, PANAMA FRANCIS (Nice Jazz Festival, July 21, 1975)

I saw Bobby Hackett perform a half-dozen times in the early Seventies, and he impressed me as a reserved, modest man — someone who didn’t want to take the first solo, someone for whom two choruses were enough.  He wasn’t loud; he didn’t assert his right to the spotlight.  But his modesty was balanced by the sweetness and quiet passion he created when he played.  He loved the melody, but he also delighted in the harmonic melodies he could invent while getting through a one-bar passage between two possibly ordinary chords.  And his sound.  And his architectural sense: his playing seemed logical, thoughtful, but every note vibrated with warm love — of the melody, of the song, of the messages he could send to us.  A vibrating serenity full of emotion.

Bobby and Vic Dickenson at Childs Paramount, October 1952.  Photo by Robert Parent

I write all this as prelude to a performance he did late in life (he didn’t live a whole year after this) that was blessedly captured on film.  It’s from the Nice Jazz Festival, July 21, 1975, a six-minute exploration of SWEET LORRAINE with Art Hodes, piano; Placide Adams, string bass; Panama Francis, drums.  I have posted it before, but as part of a much longer “Dixieland” anthology where it was one of the few quiet moments.  I urge you, even if  you have seen and heard it before, to take time for beauty, the beauty Bobby so open-heartedly gave us.  These moments are, as Bobby’s friend Eddie Condon said, “too good to ignore”:

Last night, the astronomers captured photographs of Jupiter and Saturn in the night sky, something that they say happens every eight hundred years.  I offer this performance by Bobby as a cosmic marvel in its own way.  There was no one like him, and he hasn’t been equaled or replaced.  Nor will he be.

May your happiness increase!

 

PART THREE, “EDDIE CONDON REVISITED,” featuring JOHNNY BLOWERS, CONNIE JONES, BETTY COMORA, KENNY DAVERN, BOBBY GORDON, MARTY GROSZ, TOMMY SAUNDERS, CLYDE HUNT, JIMMY HAMILTON, JOHN JENSEN, STEVE JORDAN, ART PONCHERI, LARRY EANET, TOMMY CECIL, and JOHNSON “FAT CAT” McREE (May 20, 1989, Set One Saturday brunch, Manassas, Virginia)

I don’t know why, while assembling this blog, I thought of the author Byron Katie’s injunction, “Love what is.”  Perhaps it’s because this music is “what is” for me, and I hope you love it, too.

This is the third segment of music played (and video-recorded) in Manassas, Virginia, during the weekend of May 19-21, 1989 weekend.  You can see the first and second parts here and here.  It wasn’t 1939 anymore, nor was it West Fourth Street, but “these guys” (and Betty) would have pleased Eddie, and Johnson McRee’s notion of recreating various Town Hall concerts, in part or in whole, had merit: evoking the past and exploring a wide repertoire of the beautiful songs Eddie and his colleagues loved to honor.

Originally I thought this weekend was part of the Manassas Jazz Festival, but my friend Sonny McGown (who was there) reminded me that the MJF was held in the autumn, that this was a special weekend.  Sonny also sent this flyer:

 

This segment begins with the closing chorus of NOBODY’S SWEETHEART (with perhaps unsolicited technical advice given to the videographer, an occupational hazard) by Clyde Hunt, Connie Jones, trumpet; Bobby Gordon, clarinet; Art Poncheri, trombone; Jimmy Hanilton, baritone saxophone; Tommy Cecil, string bass; Larry Eanet, piano; Steve Jordan, guitar; Johnny Blowers, drums / SONG OF THE WANDERER / SINGIN’ THE BLUES: Connie, Gordon, Poncheri, Hunt, Hamilton, Gordon / DOCTOR JAZZ, with offstage comedy by Marty Grosz, a racing tempo, and Johnson “Fat Cat” McRee vocal / GHOST OF A CHANCE: Betty Comora, Connie, rhythm section / BIG BUTTER AND EGG MAN: add Grosz, Kenny Davern, clarinet; Tommy Saunders, cornet; John Jensen, trombone //  May 20, 1989, Saturday brunch, set one.

There are two more lengthy segments to come.  “Whee!” as Eddie signed autographs.

May your happiness increase!

SUNDAY NIGHTS AT 326 SPRING STREET (Part Twenty-Eight) — WE NEED SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO: SESSIONS AT THE EAR INN, featuring THE EarRegulars (2007 – the Future)

Do you Ear what I Ear?

Ready to get ready?  Snow boots, ridiculous headgear, two pairs of gloves (for when one is left behind)?  Let’s prepare for cyber-joys at 326 Spring Street, New York . . . the EarRegulars at the Ear Inn, lifting spirits, no spirit too big or too small.

Correction: I realized that we don’t have to go outside.  So slippers and fleece sweatpants are perfectly appropriate attire.  Sorry if I frightened you.

Now that we’re settled in . . .

I’d forgotten about this marvelous constellation, but it happened on September 26, 2010:  Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Scott Robinson, tenor saxophone; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Pat O’Leary, string bass, and — dropping by — the legendary Bob Barnard, cornet:

An easy-rocking BEALE STREET BLUES, just what Doctor Jazz prescribed:

BEALE STREET BLUES (concluded):

The first of two evocations of the Eternal Feminine, A PRETTY GIRL IS LIKE A MELODY.  Bob lives more than twenty hours away by air, so he didn’t get to join in here.  I note now, ten years later, that the last dozen or so bars of this performance are missing.  I blame YouTube, but You are free to blame Me:

and a truly lovely SLEEPY TIME GAL, music that feels like an embrace:

Aren’t you glad we did?  See you next Sunday, although you are free to nose around JAZZ LIVES in the interim.

May your happiness increase!

 

ANDY MacDONALD’S “SUITE SOLITUDE”

I first encountered Andy MacDonald on Facebook — a shy but amiable presence who liked my postings.  We had similar tastes, so we actually had a conversation (now, how nineteenth-century is that?).  Jazz guitarist, songwriter, singer — and for once that latter combination of words did not inspire fear.

He shared his new three-song opus, SWEET SOLITUDE, and I liked it very much, so much so that I am encouraging you to take a sniff, or several, at it.

But first.  Andy and “pandemic puppy,” whom he’s named Duke Ellington, the inspiration for one of three parts of the Suite, which veers delightfully from hot small-band swing, to Lang-Venuti frolic and meditation, to a song which I think of as our century’s Tom Lehrer goes to Eddie Condon’s.

But every blog should have a photograph of a cute puppy and his happy owner:

One is not enough:

Here are two videos from the Suite, the first asking the musical question, “Will everything be all right soon?” featuring Andy, guitar; Drew Jurecka, violin:

and “March 13, 2020,” featuring Andy, guitar and voice; Drew Jurecka, violin; Dave Kosmyna, cornet;  Tom Richards, sousaphone and trombone:

I’d asked Andy to write something about himself to introduce himself to the mass of people who hadn’t yet realized what was lacking in their lives, and here’s his verbal opus:

I’m a Canadian guitarist, banjoist, and vocalist playing hot jazz in a cold country. I’m from Toronto, but I decided Toronto wasn’t cold enough so I moved to Montreal in 2015. I’ve played (and taught) jazz in Canada, USA, and Europe and my favourite audience members are swing dancers. Django Reinhardt has always been my greatest influence on the guitar, but recently I’ve been going backwards and getting inspired by the players who influenced Django. Eddie Lang, Joe Venuti, Louis Armstrong, and Fats Waller are my new muses.

My musical mission is to write honestly about profound subjects without taking myself too seriously. I feel like Fats Waller and Marty Grosz take a similar approach. Fats wrote sincerely about heavy stuff like depression, heartbreak and loneliness, yet his music sounds lighthearted and whimsical. His tune Draggin’ my Poor Heart Around (recorded March 13, 1931) opens with the line: «Sweet mama, did you ever hear of depression? Well, that’s what you did to my heart, I’m tellin’ ya!» When he starts his piano solo, he declares: «Oh baby, listen to my pleadin’ on the ivories!» My 2019 album Asking For A Friend is a heartbreak album that for me is comedic and upbeat in its tone.

I love drawing inspiration from classic hot jazz recordings to create new works. The balancing act of respecting the tradition while saying something original is a tricky challenge. Luckily, there seems to be a new resurgence of interest in this music so even in Canada, it’s possible to find talented players to help bring the music to life. In the “before times”, I ran a weekly hot jazz jam in a dive bar with cheap whiskey and free pool. I can’t wait to get back there!

About Suite Solitude

Suite Solitude is a collection of three songs brought on by the tragedy of social isolation and the COVID19 pandemic. The original idea for the project was to do a real-time, live recording using state-of-the-art software. Well, the software and internet speeds are still about 5 years away from that being feasible, so we recorded it all one track at a time in this order: 1) guitar & banjo; 2) sousaphone; 3) cornet; 4) violin; 5) trombone; 6) voice. Each time, the latest mixdown would be sent to the next player to record so that there could be at least some social and musical interaction.

I wrote about how much my life has flipped upside down since this pandemic began. I lost all my work as a musician and music therapist so it felt like the rug got pulled from under me in a very sudden way. Although the themes are profound at face value, there’s a good deal of comic relief and lightheartedness to the music. For example, when writing about my new puppy, I sing: «Pandemic puppy will help me see when times get rough, you can just say {RUFF} He’s chasing squirrels, he’s chasing ducks, he gives no [BARK]s

You can purchase the music on Bandcamp for $8CAD: https://andymacdonald.bandcamp.com/album/suite-solitude.

Consider yourself encouraged to do such a thing — I mean purchase the music on Bandcamp.  With or without cute puppy, Mr. MacDonald shows great promise and I would like to see his talents encouraged.

May your happiness increase!

 

HOW ARE YOUR NERVES? A CONSULTATION WITH DUKE HEITGER, BOB REITMEIER, SCOTT ROBINSON, ANDY SCHUMM, DAN BARRETT, EHUD ASHERIE, MARTY GROSZ, FRANK TATE, PETE SIERS (Jazz at Chautauqua, September 2009)

Is the world going a little too fast for you?  Is this your internal soundtrack?

Do you feel like a character in a Fleischer cartoon where everything’s too speedy to be brought under control?  (I mean no disrespect to the 1936 Henderson band — with spectacular playing on this fast blues, appropriately called JANGLED NERVES  — from Chu Berry, Roy Eldridge, Sidney Catlett, Fernando Arbello, and Buster Bailey.)

I believe the following interlude will calm and enliven your nerves at the same time.  It happened here, in a vanished but remembered past — the third weekend in September 2009 at Jazz at Chautauqua, Joe Boughton’s creation, at the Athenaeum Hotel in Chautauqua, New York.

Joe loved to begin and end his weekend programs with ballad medleys, and here is a segment of one of them, featuring Duke Heitger, trumpet; Andy Schumm, cornet; Dan Barrett, trombone; Scott Robinson, tenor saxophone; Bob Reitmeier, clarinet; Ehud Asherie, piano; Marty Grosz, guitar; Frank Tate, string bass;, Pete Siers, drums.  The bill of fare is MEMORIES OF YOU (Duke), STARDUST (Bob), PRELUDE TO A KISS (Scott), OLD FOLKS (Andy), IF I HAD YOU (Dan, with the ensemble joining in):

Let’s see how you’re feeling tomorrow.  Leave a message with Mary Ann.

May your happiness increase!

www.vjm.biz

ANOTHER “TOWN HALL CONCERT”: PAOLO ALDERIGHI, BERT BOEREN, MENNO DAAMS, BERNARD FLEGAR, MORITZ GASTREICH, NICO GASTREICH, HELGE LORENZ, NICKI PARROTT, MATTHIAS SEUFFERT, STEPHANIE TRICK, NIELS UNBEHAGEN, ENGELBERT WROBEL (Westoverledingen, Germany, April 10, 2016)

I was there, among admired friends.  And the music was spectacular.

In German, it’s JAZZ IM RATHAUS — Jazz at the Town (City) Hall — but given that Louis’ 1947 Town Hall Concert shaped my life, I realign the words as tribute.  The Dramatis Personae is on the green cover.

April 9, 2016. Photograph by Elke Grunwald

This was the thirtieth annual concert, a series featuring, among others, Wild Bill Davison, Kenny Davern, Marty Grosz, Ralph Sutton, Jon-Erik Kellso, Dan Barrett, Randy Sandke, Warren Vache, Bob Haggart, Mark Shane, Danny Moss, Chris Hopkins, Jake Hanna, Rossano Sportiello, Antti Sarpila, Butch Miles, Ken Peplowski . . . . All of this happened because of Manfred Selchow, known to his friends as Mannie, a deep jazz-lover, author of beautifully comprehensive studies of Ed Hall and Vic Dickenson.  He’s the serious man below with both hands on the check, but don’t let that somber visage fool you: he is a warm and easy fellow.

But music is what we’re here for — two rousing selections from the final concert of the April 8-10 jazz weekend at the Rathaus.  The first, LADY BE GOOD, is full of gratifying solos, ensemble telepathy, uplifting surprises.  That’s Matthias Seuffert, Engelbert Wrobel, tenor saxophones; Helge Lorenz, guitar; Bert Boeren, trombone; Menno Daams, cornet; Rico Tomasso, trumpet; Bernard Flegar, later, Moritz Gastreich, drums; Nico Gastreich, string bass; Niels Unbehagen, Stephanie Trick, Paolo Alderighi, piano — doing crowd-pleasing handoffs.  AND 1936 Lester!  (Wait for it, as they say.)

The encore, PERDIDO, evokes JATP, with Matthias, Engelbert, Helge, Nicki Parrott on string bass; Bernard, Niels, Stephanie, Paolo, Rico, Menno, and Bert:

Someday, sweethearts, we shall meet again.  And thanks for the lovely sounds.

May your happiness increase!

I GUESS I’LL GET THE PAPERS, or HOLY JAZZ RELICS FOR SALE

Some more eBay spelunking: surprises await.

First, Wally Fawkes, clarinetist and cartoonist, 95 in June 2019, interviewed here.  It’s lovely to know he is still with us.

Wally in 2013. Photograph by the fine jazz historian Peter Vacher.

This has the look of an authentic signature: paper taken from someone’s pocket notepad, the calligraphy of someone not lifting the pen a great deal from letter to letter.  No date, no place, but it doesn’t inspire skepticism:

and a vignette from Wally’s most recent recording (2003) — with Doug Murray, piano; Eddie Taylor, drums.  He doesn’t come in immediately, but when he does!

My hero Buck Clayton, with Charlie Shavers at the Esquire record date of 1946:

and here’s a remarkable autograph:

and a smaller, complete version:

Obviously this is a page from a deep fan’s autograph book –(s)he taped the signature to the page and then annotated it.  What’s most intriguing to me is that the city and date are noted: the night before (or in the same 24-hour period) the JATP assemblage had played and been recorded at Carnegie Hall in New York City: Buck, Trummy Young, Willie Smith, Flip Phillips, Coleman Hawkins, Kenny Kersey, Benny Fonville, and Buddy Rich — BELL BOY BLUES, HOW HIGH THE MOON, and an unissued FLYIN’ HOME.

You can hear BELL BOY on YouTube for yourself.  I chose something more focused on Buck and less violent: Buck, in France (October 1949) BLUES IN FIRST with Charlie Lewis, piano; Georges Hadjo, string bass; Wallace Bishop, drums.  Don Byas and Merrill Stepter were on the session but don’t play here:

Coming back to this page, the eBay seller has noted the signature of “Ken Kenny” on the other side — obviously Kersey.  If this could be more authentic, I don’t know how.  Even the decaying Scotch tape speaks of years.

Here’s another beautifully annotated holy relic:

and an inset:

If there is a date on this page, the seller did not photograph it — but it is also Boston.  And on the other side, there’s “Sonny Green,” which should be “Greer.”  Ray Nance is quite a hero of mine, and I had the honor of seeing him perform several nights in a row with a local rhythm section in suburbia, 1975 (and Sonny, in the same period, in New York City).

Here’s Ray in 1942 with the Duke and Sonny, espousing strategic reticence:

One more, from a man who probably signed his name as many times as any movie star (which he was, also), Gene Krupa:

and the larger image:

I wonder what the owner blanked out at top, but this is as authentic as one could want.  The seller doesn’t say anything about a signature on the reverse; perhaps Gene got his very own page.  And here, for me, is the great Krupa moment, from the rather unsatisfying film — as a film — BOY, WHAT A GIRL! (1947) with Sidney Catlett, Dick Vance, Bennie Morton, Don Stovall, and others, and “You are Gene Krupa!”:

I didn’t buy the Wally Fawkes autograph, but I did bid on the others and win: to keep my spirits up until the days get brighter and my feelings follow suit.  And at least you can look at the holy relics and (I hope) murmur admiringly.  The eBay seller —alvarez1 — is a very gracious fellow, who has two more pages from that same book for bidding: one Charlie Shavers (backed by Charlie Queener), the other Jess Stacy (backed by Cy Baker). . . .as well as many fascinating non-jazz signatures.  I don’t need to have everything, so if you move quickly, they might be yours.

May your happiness increase!

 

“BORN TO SWING”: MATTHIAS SEUFFERT, PATRICK ARTERO, THILO WAGNER, LINDY HUPPERTSBERG, GERGOR BECK (October 2019)

Thanks to these delightful musicians, a reminder that swinging jazz is resilient and, what’s more, present: this concert was shown recently on television, a very pleasing phenomenon in itself.  Its theme?  Swinging jazz is thriving.

Matthias Seuffert, January 2020.

The creators are Matthias Seuffert, tenor saxophone and clarinet (hear him on the latter on AFTER SUPPER); Patrick Artero on trumpet; Thilo Wagner on piano; Lindy Huppertsberg, string bass and announcements; Gregor Beck, drums.  The repertoire honors “New Testament” Basie and Neal Hefti, Fifties American pop classics, Louis and Hoagy Carmichael, Edgar Sampson and the Swing Era, neatly evoked without all those music stands: FLIGHT OF THE FOO BIRDS / AFTER SUPPER / SECRET LOVE (Thilo, Lindy, Gregor) / JUBILEE / and the encore, BLUE LOU.

Wonderful music, so expert, so warm, and so reassuring.  Bless its vividly imaginative friends, making it get up and do its dance in 2019.

May your happiness increase!

TWENTY MINUTES OF PURE INSPIRATION: “THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF BARRY HARRIS”

This morning I broke out of my usual YouTube routines — videos about kitten and puppy rescues (The Dodo), videos showing excellent cookery (Not Another Cooking Show) as well as music (Davey Tough) . . . and I stumbled upon this superb short film — a loving portrait of teacher / composer / pianist / illuminator Barry Harris leading a five-day workshop in Rome.

The description is very simple: “A short movie capturing the amazing synergy of Barry Harris & people. Filmed during the Barry Harris Workshop Rome, March 2019. Made with the ear of a musician, with the eye of a reporter and most of all: straight from the heart. A film by Heleen Schuttevaêr,; video editing by Hidde Kroonbergs.”

Even if you’ve never heard of Dr. Barry, or if he is simply a name in a discography to you, I urge you to watch this frankly enthralling video: I’d like everyone who sings in the car, everyone who teaches, everyone who is open to learning . . . to spend the twenty minutes.  It’s just lovely.  And the thought I went away with is this: we can’t all study with Barry, sing, or play, under his tutelage — but we can work to graciously absorb the experiences that others offer us, and we can work to be our own version of Barry to others who want to join in.

To think that we live on Barry’s planet is very reassuring.  And today is his ninety-first birthday.  We salute you, Doctor Harris!

May your happiness increase!

 

UP IN THE CLOUDS: BUCKY PIZZARELLI, MUNDELL LOWE, HARRY ALLEN, DAVE STONE, CHUCK REDD (San Diego Jazz Party, February 21, 2014)

Up in the clouds created by Django Reinhardt with two guitar masters, Bucky Pizzarelli, and (in a supporting role) Mundell Lowe, accompanied by Harry Allen, tenor saxophone; Dave Stone, string bass; Chuck Redd, drums. This performance took place at the San Diego Jazz Party, February 21, 2014.

Bucky, ever the showman, always introduced a nearly-violent interlude into his NUAGES.  Perhaps there was a squall passing through.

We celebrate Harry, Dave, and Chuck (who graciously gave permission to share this video with you) and we miss Bucky and Mundell.

May your happiness increase!

 

SUNDAY NIGHTS AT 326 SPRING STREET (Part Twenty-Seven) — WE NEED SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO: SESSIONS AT THE EAR INN, featuring THE EarRegulars (2007 – the Future)

Look!  We’ve made it through another week, and I hope without damage to our hearts, our relationships, the furniture.  And as a reward, may I invite you to join me, metaphysically, for some teleportation to 326 Spring Street, The Ear Inn?

Never mind that it’s September 5, 2010.  If that makes you slightly queasy, just have your seat belt low and tight across your hips.  Or hold on to what (whom) ever you can.  The noble participants, continued from Part Twenty-Six, are Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Dmitry Baevsky, alto saxophone; Ray Macchiarola, guitar, and Neal Miner, string bass — with Mark Lopeman, alto saxophone, joining in. (I think Danny Tobias had an early teaching gig on Monday, so he is here only in spirit.)

A groovy I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH ME:

Saxophones only, please, for SLOW BOAT TO CHINA:

AFTER YOU’VE GONE (Part the First):

AFTER YOU’VE GONE (so brief, too good to ignore, to document Kellso-joy):

May

NOT ONLY FOR VALENTINE’S DAY (Part One): “THE GREAT LOVE SONGS, REQUESTED,” by YAALA BALLIN and MICHAEL KANAN (St. John’s in the Village, New York City, February 14, 2020).

Music to love by.

Here are four performances from a delightful concert by Yaala Ballin, vocal; Michael Kanan, piano — at St. John’s in the Village, a welcoming Episcopal church on West 11th Street in Greenwich Village, New York. Valentine’s Day 2020 was a perfect reason for the charming event that Yaala and Michael have perfected, where audience members were given a list of classic songs and asked to pick two they especially wanted to hear . . . then, in true quiz show fashion, Yaala reached into the basket of paper slips, drew one out, showed the name to Michael, and that was the next number. Joyous and alive.

Yaala and Michael love and respect the melodies and the emotions that animate the songs, and they are also playful explorers: with the secure magic carpet of Michael’s accompaniment, Yaala can stretch the line, deliver some words in speech, offer suspenseful pauses: in effect, build new houses on familiar ground.  Michael continues to be heartfelt, swinging, and sly — within the space of an eight-bar bridge — his solos translucent marvels where melody and variations float as if skywritten.

From OKLAHOMA, Rodgers and Hammerstein’s PEOPLE WILL SAY WE’RE IN LOVE, with lyrics that never fail to charm me:

Irving Berlin’s THEY SAY IT’S WONDERFUL, from ANNIE GET YOUR GUN:

The Gershwin perennial, OUR LOVE IS HERE TO STAY:

and  AT LAST, by Harry Warren and Mack Gordon (the wedding song — who knew?) with touches of HEART AND SOUL, appropriately:

“A thrill to press my cheek to.”

There are more performances from this rare concert to come.

May your happiness increase!