Tag Archives: Andrew Oliver

A SURPRISE FROM BREDA 2019

One of the blog-categories I created is “SURPRISE!” and the video below is an especially nice one.  I’ve admired the playing and fortitude and wit of Michael McQuaid and Nick Ward for a decade or so now, and although Andrew Oliver came along later (think of the Complete Morton Project) he is breathing the same exalted air.  The other gentlemen of the ensemble are new to me, more or less, but I embrace them as well.

Here, from a July afternoon at the Breda Jazz Festival, is a neat package of twenty-plus minutes of hot / sweet jazz:

The musicians are Michael McQuaid, clarinet, soprano saxophone, and trumpet;
Antoine Trommelen, soprano saxophone; Andrew Oliver, piano; Nick Ward, drums; Bart Wouters, string bass; Curtis Volp, banjo.

The songs are CHINA BOY, SOMEDAY SWEETHEART, SHREVEPORT STOMP, AFTER YOUVE GONE, and the aura is somewhere between a homespun Summit Reunion and the Bechet-Spanier Big Four . . . neither of which bothers me in the least.  Thanks to Paul Dunleavy for being the efficient man on the spot with a functioning camera: as a member of his professional guild, I want to see him get credit.

Some surprises I don’t like: no popping paper bags in back of me, no jury-duty notices in the mail, my doctor saying, “I don’t like the looks of this at all,” but I’m ready for more surprises like this one, any time.

May your happiness increase!

GUILTY, AS CHARGED

This morning, Connor Cole, a young Facebook friend, someone with good taste, casually asked me to list the recordings that had impressed me in the past year.  I’ve stopped composing “ten best” lists because I know that I will hurt the feelings of someone I’ve left off.  (I once applied for a job where there were openings for five people, and was told afterwards that I was number six, a memory which still, perhaps absurdly, stings.)  But Connor’s request pleased me, so I began thinking of the recordings of 2019.

Perhaps it was that I wasn’t fully awake, but I came up with almost nothing, which troubled me.  So I began searching through blogposts and came up with these reassuring entities (new issues only) in approximate chronological order, with apologies to those I’ve omitted, those discs which I will write about in 2020:

IN THIS MOMENT, Michael Kanan, Greg Ruggiero, Neal Miner

NEW ORLEANS PEARLS  Benny Amon

UNSTUCK IN TIME  Candy Jacket Jazz Band

NO ONE ELSE BUT YOU  Danny Tobias, Mark Shane

RAGTIME — NEW ORLEANS STYLE, Volume 2  Kris Tokarski, Hal Smith

PICK IT AND PLAY IT  Jonathan Stout

BUSY TIL’ ELEVEN  Chicago Cellar Boys

TENORMORE  Scott Robinson

UPTOWN  The Fat Babies

COMPLETE MORTON PROJECT  Andrew Oliver, David Horniblow

A SUNDAY KIND OF LOVE, Alex Levin

DREAM CITY  David Lukacs

THE MUSIC OF THE BIRD AND THE BEE  Charles Ruggiero, Hilary Gardner

LESTER’S BLUES  Tom Callens

WINTER DAYS  Rebecca Kilgore, Echoes of Swing

The majority of those discs are musician-produced, funded, and released — which is yet another blogpost about “record companies” and their understandable attrition.  Economics, technology, and a changing audience.

But that list made me go back in time, decades of trading money for musical joy.

In late childhood, I would have walked or bicycled the mile to Times Square Stores and bought Louis’ Decca JAZZ CLASSICS for $2.79 plus tax.  A few years later, Monk cutouts on Riverside at Pergament or Mays. E.J. Korvette. Lester Young and Art Tatum Verves at Sam Goody’s.  A British enterprise, Tony’s, for exotic foreign discs.  In New York City, new Chiaroscuro issues at Dayton’s, Queen-Discs at Happy Tunes.

In the CD era, I would have stopped off after work at Borders or the nearby Tower Records for new releases on Arbors, Concord, Pablo, and import labels.  Again in the city, J&R near City Hall for Kenneth, French CBS, and more.  But record stores gave way to purchasing by mail, and eventually online.  Mosaic Records was born, as was Amazon, eventually eBay.

So today the times I actually visit “a record store,” it is to browse, to feel nostalgic, to walk away with a disc that I had once coveted — often with a deceased collector’s address sticker on the back — but I am much more likely to click on BUY IT NOW in front of this computer, or, even better, to give the artist twenty dollars for a copy of her new CD.

What happened?  I offer one simple explanation.  A musician I respect, who’s been recordings since 1991, can be relied upon to write me, politely but urgently and at length, how I and people like me have ruined (or “cut into”) his CD sales by using video cameras and broadcasting the product for free to large audiences.

So it’s my fault.  I killed Decca, Columbia, and Victor — Verve, Prestige, and Riverside, too.  Glad to have that question answered, that matter settled.  Now I’m off to do more damage elsewhere.

May your happiness increase!

DAVID, ANDREW, FERDINAND (THE COMPLETE MORTON PROJECT on DISC)

Internet commerce can feel awkward when one is attempting to say to prospective buyers, “You would enjoy spending money on this pleasurable rare object.”  Or, in the new expression I just learned from a Swedish jazz friend, “smashing the savings pig.”  Be not alarmed: purchase of this CD will not do any animal, ceramic or real, harm.

The CD in question is a beauty: “THE COMPLETE MORTON PROJECT / Neglected masterpieces by the first great jazz composer / ANDREW OLIVER / DAVID HORNIBLOW.” (lejazzetal Records: # LJCD21).  For those who are already excited, the link to purchase or download is here.                      .

I’ll let pianist Andrew explain:

David and I began playing together when I moved to London from Portland, Oregon, in 2013 and we quickly secured a weekly duo gig during which we learned a lot of Morton’s best known compositions.  We’ve continued to work together frequently in the Dime Notes and the Vitality Five, and one day in 2017 as we added yet another fantastic Morton tune to the book of one of the bands, David suggested we should just learn them all!  This seemed rather hilarious and we quickly started recording YouTube videos and posting them at a rate of two per week, with a goal to record and post all 93 tunes during 2018.  Despite a fair bit of stress later in the year, we managed to complete this goal and decided to put down some of our favorites in the studio for this album.  We’ve selected a cross section with a few well-known tunes and a lot of lesser-played ones demonstrating the full range of Morton’s compositional style and featuring David on bass clarinet and bass sax in addition to clarinet for some added textures.

The Morton compositions on the disc are SHREVEPORT STOMP / CROC-O-DILE CRADLE / GAN JAM / STATE AND MADISON / FINGER BUSTER / COURTHOUSE BUMP / STRATFORD HUNCH / MAMANITA / GOOD OLD  NEW YORK / FREAKISH / I HATE A MAN LIKE YOU / JUNGLE BLUES / BLACK BOTTOM STOMP / MR. JELLY LORD / MY HOME IS IN A SOUTHERN TOWN — spanning the stylistic and chronological range of his career.

The jazz audience can be thrifty, so perhaps I should explain why JAZZ LIVES readers would consider purchasing this CD when Andrew and David have unlocked the treasure chest of Mortonia week by week with slightly under one hundred music videos.  I can only say that, having followed the Complete Morton Project on video for about a year, I was delighted by what I heard on the CD.  Whether you view the videos as master takes or alternates, there is vibrant lively improvisation on each song, so I did not feel that I was listening to familiar music, even though I knew both the Morton compositions and the Oliver-Horniblow interpretations from last year.

Second, the sound is beautifully spacious — even though the YouTube channel sounded just right, the CD sound is more expansive and detailed.

Third, and this is not a comic statement, you can listen to the CD in the car without endangering others or yourself.  I would be alarmed if I got into a car with a Morton fancier who was watching the YouTube videos while attempting to drive us somewhere.  LET ME OFF UPTOWN or DROP ME OFF IN HARLEM would come instantly to mind, euphemisms for “Stop right now!”  So purchasing the COMPLETE MORTON PROJECT is not only an act of self-love; it’s good for pedestrians and other motorists.  I rest my case.  Buy it here.

Rereading what I’d written above, I wondered whether some would perceive it as flippant, which isn’t my intention.  Although Andrew and David are great players and great imaginers, their joyous work is seriously rewarding.  Morton’s work is so powerful — his compositions and  his orchestral recordings as well as his piano renderings — that it seems to leave many musicians awe-struck and somewhat frozen.  Thus, facing three minutes of architectural grandeur (say, the Victor BLACK BOTTOM STOMP) they are relegated to attempting to play the record through their own instruments in this century, and when such acrobatics come off, they are entrancing.  (Almost no one I can think of has attempted the other kind of homage: “let’s play DEAD MAN BLUES as a boogaloo,” and that is all to the good.)  What David and Andrew do and did is something else: their reductions of Morton (or, amplifications, if you consider those duo performances based on piano solos) seem to say, “We know this material is strong in every way: melody, harmony, rhythm.  Let us, as if we were restoring an irreplaceable eighteenth century painting, strip off all the accretions, all the layers of performance practice, all the flourishes that come from taking records as sacred text, and concentrate on the Music.  Let us also see, in the best New Orleans – Chicago – New York style, what our warm imaginations can bring to this song.”

Thus they venerate Morton but also play him, with wondrous results.

The link to see, hear, purchase other lejazzetal CDs — including four delightful ones by Martin Wheatley and friends; the Dime Notes; the Vitality Five, and more — is  here.

May your happiness increase!

HAPPINESS IS JUST A THING CALLED JELLY: THE COMPLETE MORTON PROJECT, NOW COMPLETE: ANDREW OLIVER and DAVID HORNIBLOW

Why are these two men so elated?

Andrew (left), piano, and David (right) reeds, otherwise known to a loyal contingent of supporters as the Complete Morton Project, recently announced on Facebook that they have recorded the last of the Jelly Roll Morton compositions they set out to record more than a few months ago.  By my count, they have created 94 videos.  I’ve fallen behind, so this post is an affectionate but tardy attempt to gather up what you and I might have missed.  Eleven of the best!  And for inspired unstuffy commentary on the Morton cornucopia, visit  Andrew’s blog here.

CROC-O-DILE CRADLE, never recorded, existing only in manuscript (found, I believe, by Vince Giordano):

The most excellent WOLVERINE BLUES (not a blues) where David begins with Volly DeFaut’s 1925 clarinet solo:

CREEPY FEELING, an extended meditation from the Library of Congress sessions:

LONDON BLUES, courtesy of Kurt Nauck III

LONDON BLUES, which has a long pedigree:

PONCHARTRAIN, named for the New Orleans lake:

CRAZY CHORDS, which has fragments of 1930 modernism here and there, and David’s interpolation of the “rather dreadful” clarinet solo from the recording:

STOP AND GO, from Morton’s last compositions for big band:

MUSHMOUTH SHUFFLE (I’d love to know the thought or stimulus behind many of Jelly’s titles):

SUPERIOR RAG:

A late frolic, SWINGING THE ELKS, with a particularly exuberant solo by Andrew before David picks up the bass saxophone to solo on this flying march:

SPORTING HOUSE RAG, recorded late, sounds like an early showpiece: here, again, scored for piano and bass saxophone:

May your happiness increase!

STATE OF THE ART: DALTON RIDENHOUR and EVAN ARNTZEN (Scott Joplin International Ragtime Festival, Sedalia, Missouri: June 2, 2018)

Dalton Ridenhour, photograph by Aidan Grant

Duet playing in any genre is difficult — making two into one while keeping the individuals’ individualities afloat.  Improvised duet playing, as you can imagine, might be the most wonderful soaring dance of all but it is fraught with the possibility of disaster.  Can we agree on a tempo?  Is one of us rushing or dragging?  Do we agree on the changes?  Do we play the tag at the end of every chorus?  Do we change key for the final chorus?  Or, as Vic Dickenson said, “How do you want to distribute the bounces?”

Evan Arntzen, photograph by Tim Cheeney

But I am sure that some of my most enthralling moments have been as an open-mouthed spectator at some duets: Louis Armstrong and Earl Hines or Buck Washington, Al Cohn and Jimmie Rowles; Ruby Braff and Ellis Larkins; Ruby and Dick Hyman; Vic and Ralph Sutton; Eddie Lang and Lonnie Johnson; Zoot Sims and Bucky Pizzarelli, Andrew Oliver and David Horniblow, Marc Caparone and Ray Skjelbred . . . . and and and.  Now I add to that list the two fellows photographed above . . . on the basis of two songs in concert.

Here are two lovely examples of how improvised duet playing — by two people, expert and intuitive — can touch our hearts while we marvel at the risks taken and the immense rewards.  Pianist Dalton Ridenhour was playing a solo set at the Scott Joplin International Ragtime Festival in Sedalia, Missouri, and gave us a surprise by inviting his colleague and neighbor, clarinetist Evan Arntzen, to the stage for a dozen memorable minutes.

The tender and evocative THAT OLD FEELING:

The song I call CHANGES MADE (and then someone insists that THERE’LL BE SOME CHANGES MADE is the properly pious title . . . . what-ever):

I dream of a venue and an occasion where Dalton and Evan could play as long as they wanted . . .

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!

THEY KEEP ROLLING ON: DAVID HORNIBLOW and ANDREW OLIVER PLAY MORTON, BEAUTIFULLY

It’s one thing to have a bright idea, another to give that idea tangible shape.  But consistent unflagging creativity is dazzling.  The Complete Morton Project — Andrew Oliver, piano, and David Horniblow, reeds, with occasional doubling and special guests — is a wonderful embodiment of all the principles above.

I have trouble keeping up with their weekly gifts, but here is another sustained offering of pleasure.

DON’T YOU LEAVE ME HERE was recorded in Morton’s last flourish, although I suspect he had had the composition in his repertoire for years.  With its melancholy title, it’s always a pleasing shock to hear it treated in this jauntily ambling fashion:

and a Morton line that used to be played more often — famous versions with Louis, Bechet, Red, Johnny Dodds — WILD MAN BLUES, with a delicious conversation-in-breaks created by Andrew and David:

GAN JAM (or GANJAM) was never recorded by Jelly, but was envisioned as an orchestral composition for a big band.  James Dapogny reimgined it as it might have been, and here the CMP envisions it as a duet — full of what might have been called “Oriental” touches but to our ears might simply be extended harmonies, quite fascinating.  I’d bet that someone hearing this for the first time would not think Morton its composer.  You can read Andrew’s observations on both tune and performance here:

Finally, a title that would not apply to what Andrew and David have been giving us so generously, THAT’LL NEVER DO (did Morton say that to one of his musicians at a rehearsal or run-through?).

I see a chorus line in my mind, high-kicking:

May your happiness increase!