Tag Archives: Chopin

BRIGHT SPARKS, DEEP SHADOWS: JON-ERIK KELLSO, ROSSANO SPORTIELLO, TAL RONEN at MEZZROW (Sept. 16, 2019)

This sign is catnip to me and to other cats — so much so that we were standing in line (in a drizzle) outside of Mezzrow long before the Powers would open the door.  But our perseverance was well rewarded, that night of September 16, when Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Rossano Sportiello, piano; Tal Ronen, string bass, got together for a vibrant imaginative session.  Here are a few highlights.

Rossano’s musical beverage, TEA FOR TWO:

Honoring Fathahood, MONDAY DATE:

ALL THE THINGS YOU ARE (featuring Tal):

I’M CRAZY ‘BOUT MY BABY, echoing not only Fats but also Ruby and Ralph:

Rossano’s marriage of Sammy Cahn, Saul Chaplin, and Fred Chopin, in SHOE SHINE BOY / Waltz, Opus 69, No. 1:

And Jon-Erik’s suggestion that we not leave, STICK AROUND:

Brilliant solo voices, rewarding thoughtful ensemble interplay.  Yes, it happened.

May your happiness increase!

FIVE GEMS BY THREE MASTERS: ROSSANO SPORTIELLO, FRANK TATE, HAL SMITH at the CLEVELAND CLASSIC JAZZ PARTY (September 16, 2016)

We must acknowledge the passage of time.  Art Tatum, Johnny Guarneri, Hank Jones have become Ancestors.  Israel Crosby, Milt Hinton, and Oscar Pettiford have moved to another neighborhood.  Sidney Catlett, Dave Tough, and Jo Jones have passed into spirit.

FRANK.

FRANK.

But we cannot mourn those shifts too sorrowfully, because we have Rossano Sportiello, piano; Frank Tate, string bass; Hal Smith, drums to show us how it’s done in 2016 — Old Time Modern, flawlessly.

They did it (perhaps for the first time ever?) at the 2015 Cleveland Classic Jazz Party, for a short spell.  It seemed that by the time I had set up my camera, their set was over.

HAL.

HAL.

This year, on September 16, 2016, I was better prepared . . . and caught the whole glorious effusion.  I was transported, and the audience was rocking alongside me.  You’ll hear immediately that I don’t list the names of the illustrious forbears in vain. This trio has a lightness and grit that I don’t hear very often, and it is good medicine for troubled times and happy ones.  They perform two early-twentieth century pop classics, two blues, with nods to Basie, Charlie Christian, and the boogie-woogie masters, as well as Rossano’s Chopin-into-jazz transformations.  All with style, grace, and enthusiasm beyond compare.  And this is a blissfully natural-sounding group: a fine grand piano (no microphones pushed under its lid); an unamplified string bass; a drum kit of snare drum and hi-hat cymbal, wire brushes to the fore — the old days without anything dusty about them.

ROSSANO.

ROSSANO.

SHOULD I? (from Rhapsody to Romp, which could serve as a title for the set):

SWEET LORRAINE:

SOFT WINDS:

CHOPIN IN JAZZ:

BASIE BLUES / BOOGIE (exalted dance music):

I have it on good authority that this trio is accepting gigs.  Private parties, public concert tours, canonization . . . what you will.  They deserve it, and so do we.

May your happiness increase!

MOON DREAMS AND MORE: ROSSANO SPORTIELLO / FRANK TATE at the ALLEGHENY JAZZ PARTY (Sept. 19, 2014)

Forest Blue moonlight Pianist Rossano Sportiello and string bassist Frank Tate are lyrical poets who understand the power of music to create emotional and spiritual landscapes we can roam in.  They did this at the 2014 Allegheny Jazz Party in a late-evening set of September 19, 2014, which began with a sweet extended medley — more a series of musings on cosmological matters — and then went afield.  Notice that the first video begins with a well-deserved round of applause for Frank Tate!

blue dark forest

MISTY / BLUE MOON / MOONLIGHT IN VERMONT / HOW HIGH THE MOON:

AFTER YOU’VE GONE (sprinting, no doubt):

Chopin’s NOCTURNE in Eb Major (which some of us recall from the film LOVE STORY) / DEEP PURPLE / EV’RY TIME WE SAY GOOD-BYE / JUST ONE OF THOSE THINGS:

Lovely and expansive, never superficial.  Rossano and Frank will once again be working their magic at this year’s Allegheny Jazz Party in Cleveland, Ohio, September 13-15, 2015.  Won’t you join us?  Information here.

May your happiness increase!

SPORTIELLO HONORS SHEARING. WE SMILE.

George Shearing autograph

First, some free verse:

We smile when he plays the piano,

The Maestro who comes from Milano,

He thinks it endearing 

To honor George Shearing,

Go hear him as soon as you can.  Oh!

— Author unknown, 2013

Rossano Sportiello, one of the most brilliant pianists (and one of the most genial of men) has put together a tribute to one of his idols, the late George Shearing.  “The Smiling Piano” will take place at the Cafe Carlyle, 35 East 76th Street, New York City — for a two-week run, June 11-15 and 18-24, 2013.  The trio features Frank Tate (bass, 11th-15th), Joel Forbes (bass, 18th-22nd) and Dennis Mackrel (drums), and the music begins at 8:45pm. For reservations: Tel. 212-744-1600.

If you’ve never been fortunate enough to hear the young Maestro play, let me remedy this immediately.  Here he is, recorded in 2012 at a concert at Dominican University in San Rafael, California, playing O SOLE MIO / A TIME FOR LOVE / CHOPIN IN JAZZ:

That would convince anyone.

Here’s what Rossano has to say about Maestro Shearing:

A Smiling Piano is what I think of as soon as I listen to any George Shearing recordings, when I hear the most beautiful piano playing that makes everybody smile.  His music is in tune with the way I felt since I became a professional performer at only 16. I felt I wanted to play music that could always be enjoyable and make people feel good.

When the possibility of performing at the Café Carlyle became real, I was asked to find a theme for the show, which would run for two weeks. Without any hesitation I came up with this idea.  A tribute to George Shearing means a tribute to jazz piano in general. Early in his career his style was first inspired by Fats Waller, Teddy Wilson, and Art Tatum. But Shearing soon became one the masters of that revolutionary music, be-bop. When he moved to New York City in 1946, Hank Jones and Errol Garner became his mentors and good friends and he absorbed their styles as well. Later he formed the George Shearing Quintet and the “Shearing Sound” became one of the inspirational elements for generations of musicians, and it still is.

A Shearing tribute is also naturally a tribute to “The Great American Song Book,” because he was one of its greatest interpreters and one of the most remarkable improvisers of all time — as well as a very prolific composer. Once he chose a song, he could improvise endless variations in any style: he could play a popular song and make it sound like Bach or Rachmaninoff or many others. He might start playing the second movement of the Ravel Piano Concerto and use it as an introduction to a ballad or the reverse! In the sixties he used to tour the USA playing classical concertos with local symphony orchestras in the first set of the show and bringing on his jazz quintet for the second half.

So stride piano, swing, be-bop, the Great American Song Book and classical music are the leading ingredients that will shape my tribute to George Shearing, pianist, composer, interpreter, and improviser.

I’ll be appearing with Dennis Mackrel on drums, Frank Tate on bass (the first week), and Joel Forbes on bass (the second week).  In 1983, Count Basie personally selected Dennis Mackrel to join his band, known for having the finest rhythm section in jazz. Dennis has been a sideman of choice for scores of jazz greats. George Shearing himself said, “If I ever have a record date coming up that calls for a drummer and Dennis is not available, I’ll postpone the session. He’s that good.” Dennis is currently one of the greatest jazz drummers and arrangers as well as the Musical Director of The Count Basie Orchestra.  Since the late 60’s, Frank Tate has been the sought-after accompanist for legendary musicians. Marian McPartland, Benny Goodman, Hank Jones, Dave McKenna, Wild Bill Davison, Teddy Wilson, Joe Venuti, Milt Jackson, Zoot Sims, and dozens of other jazz greats all have turned to Frank for his brilliant bass lines. Frank worked at the Cafè Carlyle every night with Bobby Short for the last 9 years of Bobby’s career until 2004.  Joel Forbes, currently a member of the Harry Allen Quartet and the Rebecca Kilgore Quartet, is one of New York best bass players, well known for is incredibly rich acoustic sound.

JAZZ LIVES suggests, quietly but fervently, “Go!”

May your happiness increase!

“LET’S PLAY BALL!” or STILL SPINNING WITH PLEASURE-VERTIGO: A REPORT FROM JEFF AND JOEL’S HOUSE PARTY (October 13-14, 2012)

Before I go on, here’s the very first song of the party, AFTER YOU’VE GONE, recorded by Eric Devine, master videographer:

Last weekend, in an 1804 farmhouse in Guilford, Connecticut (home of Joel and Donna Schiavone), hot music filled the air from noon – 10 PM Saturday, from noon to late afternoon Sunday.  And it wasn’t in sets with breaks: twelve hours or so of fairly continuous and certainly inspired music.

The creators were pianist / singer / philosopher Jeff Barnhart, pianist Ross Petot; reed wizards John Clark, Noel Kaletsky; Renaissance man Vince Giordano; trombonist / singer / euphonist Jim Fryer, trombonist Craig Grant; trumpeter / tubaist Paul Monat, trumpeter Fred Vigorito, banjoist / singer Bob Barta, string bassist Genevieve Rose, banjoist / singer Joel Schiavone, drummers Sal Ranniello, C.H. “Pam” Pameijer.

They performed one hundred selections in those three sets (yes, I was counting).  The repertoire went all the way from sweet solo piano serenades to set-this-house-on-fire incendiary ensembles.  Two trombones, two sopranos, two trumpets; many banjos, much cheerful momentum.  Paul Monat played fours with himself on tuba and trumpet, stopping the show. Jim Fryer sweetly sang THE GYPSY (with verse) and soloed fore and aft on euphonium.  Genevieve Rose gave a pensive yet swinging rendition of JADA as her solo feature.

Pam Pameijer switched from drums to washboard and kept things moving. Bob Barta cooled us off with a heartfelt DARKNESS ON THE DELTA; John Clark and Noel Kaletsky had a wailing two=clarinet discussion on APEX BLUES; Fred Vigorito increased the temperature of the room (we were peeling off layers of clothing) every time he stepped forward and began to play.

Craig Grant, new to me, played beautifully in ensembles and as a soloist; Sal Ranniello (whom I’d heard on recordings) kept the ship on a straight course. Joel sang and played many nifty old songs that I’d nearly forgotten, delighting us all — a very generous man.

More?  Unlike some “jazz parties,” where the musicians are far away on a stage, this was as informal as could be.  There was a trotting parade of players through rooms — not exactly second-lining with parasols, although that did happen once.  The barriers between Musicians and Audience were broken down early and stayed down.  (This accessibility might have been exhausting for the musicians, but I didn’t see anyone complaining.)

The music was blissfully wide-ranging, from Hot Five and two-trumpet King Oliver to Twenties New Orleans and early Ellington, an interlude of Joplin as it might have been played in “Disneyland for adults” (a bordello circa 1904), a good deal of Bix-related music, evocations of early Bennie Moten and Willie the Lion Smith ensembles, a Chopin waltz turned into Don Lambert ecstasy.

Joel treated us to I ONLY WANT A BUDDY, NOT A GAL and THAT LUCKY OLD SUN.  Jeff, for his part, sang / played / embodied DAPPER DAN FROM DIXIELAND as well as his tour de force on YOUNG AND HEALTHY (more about that in a future post).

A fourteen-year old piano wizard brought the blues to the room — in the nicest of ways: his name is ANDREW FERMO and you will be hearing from him, I predict.  The musicians tried to terrify us with THE YAMA YAMA MAN but Bob Barta told us it was all going to be fine with YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU.  Ross Petot, not well-enough known outside his neighborhood, hit home runs with LIMEHOUSE BLUES and GONE WIH THE WIND.  Leonard “Red” Balaban, who made so many good things happen with his bands, sat in for a gracious version of A PORTER’S LOVE SONG and followed with a sweet I COULD WRITE A BOOK.  (We hope he does.)  Paul Monat impersonated Wild Bill Davison on BLUE AND BROKENHEARTED . . . but he sounded (impious as it is to write these words) better.  Yes, better.  You’d have to hear it to believe it.

There was a good deal of unforced wit in the air.  Jeff Barnhart is a hilarious force of nature; luckily for us, he can’t help it.  After his opening invocation, “Let’s play ball!”  he headed the musicians into what is ordinarily the closing song, AFTER YOU’VE GONE.  Someone’s cell phone rang, and he turned from the piano and said, “If you have a cell phone, please turn it off or make sure it rings in the key we’re playing in.”  If he weren’t such an extraordinary pianist, singer, raconteur, he could certainly make a living by making us laugh . . .

Here’s the second treat — BREEZE (BLOW MY BABY BACK TO ME):

In addition to the lovely music, I had the opportunity to meet and talk with sweet people: Joel and Donna foremost among them, an assortment of Jazz Spouses — Anne Barnhart, Carol Hughes, and Micki Balaban, Sherrie Barta; Sherral Devine, Maureen Cunningham, Judy Postemsky, Marce Enright, Rutj Miller, Mairi Bryan (and her mother), Irene Cowen, my pal Nancie Beaven, the well-met Bill Bunter, and many others.  Lovely food (generously available) and an enlivening air of joy throughout the weekend.

Because Joel is the guiding spirit behind YOUR FATHER’S MUSTACHE (where “the time of your life is under your nose,” for sure) — bringing together banjos in profusion and gleeful audience participation, there were several extended medleys of songs familiar and obscure.  Had you asked me my opinion of such frolics before this party, I would have extended my nose skyward and done my best to imitate patrician hauteur.  But something surprising happened (it happened once before, when John Gill called SHINE ON HARVEST MOON, sang the first chorus, and then led us in the second — I was in the presence of something sweetly spiritual and the room vibrated with good feeling).

I was in the rear of the room when the medley turned to BYE BYE BLACKBIRD, a song I have heard musicians treat with some violence.  At a nice easy tempo, surrounded by people obviously on the same sweet path, I found myself singing along to Maureen Cunningham who was standing near me, and — driven by what nostalgic version of Jung’s collective unconscious — making the vaudeville gestures that point up the lyrics.  “Make my bed” (putting thumb in mouth, cocking head, eyes closing = naptime) “and light the light” (pulling the imaginary lightbulb’s chain), “I’ll arrive late tonight” (pointing to our watches and tapping on them with index finger), “Blackbird, bye, bye!” (huge waving motions with right arm and hand).  I wouldn’t have believed it myself, and if Eric Devine, expert videographer, had caught this, he would be running for his life — but it was an unforgettable reminder of what music can do and does!

At times, when I needed a change of scenery, I walked outside and sat on a little porch.  The sky was bright blue with wispy clouds; I looked up through the remaining orange-tan leaves on the trees and sunk into the music.

The party ended with a very sweet WE’LL MEET AGAIN.

And we will: April 20-21, 2013.  Tickets on sale on December 1.

Watch this space, and subscribe to “CineDevine” on YouTube for more, more videos — beautifully done by Eric Devine! — from 2012 (and some from 2011).

And for more information on the party — and parties to come — click here.

Taa-daah!  Simply wonderful!

May your happiness increase.

“PANIQUE” SWINGS OUT at The Red Poppy Art House (August 16, 2012)

The band PANIQUE is a rare group, subtle and inventive, as their appearance at the Red Poppy Art House in San Francisco proved.  Click PANIQUE to be transported — in every possible way — back to their beautiful first set!

This imaginative quartet is Vic Wong, guitar; Benito Cortez, violin; Nick Christie, rhythm guitar; Daniel Fabricant, string bass.

Here is their second set.  I so admire the conversational eloquence of their solos, delightful ensemble interplay; their dynamics, tempos, and shadings, their love 0f melody.

WALTZ in C# MINOR / TOPSY (combining Chopin and Eddie Durham favors both of them):

MA PREMIERE GUITARRE:

Accordionist Gus Viseur’s SWING VALSE:

BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY / THERE WILL NEVER BE ANOTHER YOU:

SUITE YUGOSLAV:

DANSE NORVEGIENNE:

MINOR SWING:

Learn more about PANIQUE and their live CD here; visit Vic Wong on Facebook there.  And The Red Poppy Art House is a remarkable place, full of friendship and inspirations: click Poppy to find out more.

May your happiness increase.

A SWING TIME WAS HAD BY ALL (Part Two): ROSSANO SPORTIELLO, STEPHANIE TRICK, NICKI PARROTT, HAL SMITH (Dominican University, San Rafael, California: July 28, 2012)

If you’ve seen the first half of this concert (expertly produced by Paul Blystone) I don’t have to tell you how fine it was.  If not, you can see it here.

Rossano opened the second half with one of his solo extravaganzas, connecting O SOLE MIO, Johnny Mandel’s A TIME FOR LOVE, Chopin’s Nocturne in Eb and his “Revolutionary” Etude:

The quartet reassembled for a strolling version of ROSETTA:

EXACTLY LIKE YOU began as a duo-piano exploration, then Nicki and Hal joined in — the latter’s hi-hat cymbal work a special pleasure:

Stephanie took the spotlight for Fats Waller’s MINOR DRAG:

She then offered Albert Ammons’ BOOGIE WOOGIE STOMP — and a man from Milan couldn’t resist joining in:

Nicki asked the vexing question (courtesy of Louis Jordan) IS YOU IS OR IS YOU AIN’T MY BABY?

Early in the performance, Rossano warmly welcomed the stride pianist and scholar Mike Lipskin — a student of Willie “the Lion” Smith’s.  To close the concert, Rossano asked Mike to join the quartet for a truly mobile AFTER YOU’VE GONE:

It was an extraordinary concert — and the first time these four artists had performed as a group.

P.S.  After an Italian dinner and a night’s sleep, this quartet reassembled for an Afternoon of Swing at the beautiful Filoli Gardens.  Those performances are coming soon to a blog near you.

May your happiness increase.

ATLANTA 2012: BUCKY PIZZARELLI, FRANK TATE, CHUCK REDD (April 21, 2012)

From the 2012 Atlanta Jazz Party, a little interlude from Bucky, Frank, and Chuck — full of feeling and swing.

THESE FOOLISH THINGS:

Bucky loves to play Django Reinhardt’s NUAGES, making those clouds become ominous, stormy.  But this time he prefaces it with ninety seconds of a piece whose title has proven elusive, even to my Song Sleuths.  I’m betting it’s Chopin or a Forties movie theme.  Any better answers?

Beautiful unhackneyed music!

May your happiness increase.

HOW DOES HE DO IT?

We expect that someone’s speaking voice is immediately identifiable, a personal signature.  But it seems magical that a pianist, seated at a complex of wires and wooden hammers, does the same thing in a few notes.  Teddy Wilson is one of those masters; there’s no mistaking him.

Each of us who has been listening to jazz for more than a few years has a kind of mental iPod (some will imagine a jukebox) of music first heard decades ago that stays in the mind.  Wilson’s 1938 solo performance of I’LL SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS is a favorite touchstone — ever since I first encountered a 10″ lp on the bootleg Jolly Roger label in a New York secondhand shop — a series of otherwise unidentified Wilson solos I knew nothing of at the time.

How does he make the piano sound so clearly an extension of himself?  Pianists will speak of the individual instrument, the player’s physical approach to the keys and pedals, of chord voicings and note choices, of Wilson’s ringing treble lines and mixture of walking tenths and stride bass  — all matters I understand in a rather indefinite way.  All of that is true, but there always is something mystical in the relations between player and instrument, deep and elusive.  One can attempt to copy a Wilson transcription by playing the notes off of the page and the result will not sound like him.

I heard Teddy in ten or twelve different settings live between 1972 and 1981: at the overamplified Carnegie Hall piano; outdoors at a Suffolk County airport; in a suburban shopping mall; in Radio City Music Hall: he sounded like himself, no matter where you put him.

This solo is even more remarkable to me because it was originally intended as a way for Wilson to teach people how to play in his style — by correspondence.  (He had become much more famous through his appearances and recordings with Goodman, Holiday, and others, and I am happy that he entered into this business venture, for it left such lovely evidence behind.)  In 1938, one could enroll as a student in the Teddy Wilson School for Pianists, its headquarters at 1650 Broadway, and for some fee (I wish I knew how much it cost) receive printed instruction sheets and commentary on piano solo recordings.

I note that the label says “Score and analysis text” available at the school: does anyone possess the transcriptions of these performances?

But the music is what counts.  Wilson had mastered the great paradox: his playing sounds calm, unhurried, but his lines that push forward with a quiet rhythmic intensity.  And a Wilson performance at a slow or medium tempo has some of the same false ease one experiences while listening to Bing Crosby: an optimistic listener thinks, “That doesn’t sound too hard.  With a few lessons, I could do that, too.”  But the goal is elusive.  I’ve tried to reproduce some version of the four-bar introduction by playing the recording and then going to the piano: its easy translucency is not easily reproduced.

Wilson clearly learned a good deal from Louis and Hines, from Fats and the great horn players — but there’s a classical reserve in his playing, a translucency that I think comes from playing Bach and Chopin: knowing how to make simple melodies come alive, to make notes ring.  There’s nothing formulaic or mechanical in this performance, even though he had chosen a simpler-than-usual approach in the first two choruses, saving some complexities for the final one.  His rhythms pulsate; even the most formal statement of the melody swings; the interplay between his left-hand harmonies and his melodic inventions is something to marvel at.  And although the performance is a sterling example of “keeping time” — it never accelerates or drags — Wilson’s rubato hesitations and suspensions at unexpected moments keep it flexible and full of surprises, even when the surprises are understated.

I think of 1938 — hardly a year for global optimism — as a time when people actually wanted to study Teddy Wilson’s piano improvisations.  That speaks of an idyllic past, perhaps lost.  But we can still hear Teddy Wilson in our dreams.

“MESSAGE FROM MARS”

No, the aliens haven’t landed.  And this isn’t a detour into NASA’s territory or a nostalgic trip back to the Mickey Mouse Club (although I haven’t been able to get one ancient “The Martians come to New York” joke out of my head*).

MESSAGE FROM MARS is the name of a splendid new disc by Echoes of Swing, a world-class band that lives up to its name and more.  While retaining its essential identity — flexible and convincing — this quartet can sound like a much larger unit, and the disc is characterized by a delightful variety in mood, tempo, and approach.  The players are superb chameleons who remain true to themselves: Chris Hopkins (himself a superb pianist) on alto sax; Colin T. Dawson on trumpet and vocal; Bernd Lhotzky on piano; Oliver Mewes on drums.

Each of those musicians savors the past and does it personal homage: Mewes suggests Catlett and Jones; Lhotzky celebrates Waller and Nat Cole; Dawson evokes Eldridge and Emmett Berry; Hopkins summons up Pete Brown and Carter.  But this isn’t a repertory effort: the music produced here is both profound and hilariously flightly, skittering from surprise to surprise.

On the surface, Echoes of Swing might sound like a John Kirby Sextet spin-off, with tightly voiced ensembles and an affection for “jazzing the classics.”  But they avoid the potential claustrophobia of these categories by being very eager to play hooky: you’ll hear echoes of many other styles and hints of other approaches, all fused delightfully into something both nostalgic and startling.

But don’t take my word for it.  Here are Echoes of Swing performing James P. Johnson’s SWINGA-DILLA STREET (recorded only by Fats Waller and his Rhythm before this):

And here’s a Lhotzky original, HIS HONOUR AND THE VERMIN (FLEAS IN MY WIG):

MESSAGE FROM MARS offers a deliciously subtle and witty tasting menu of music — a disc you could listen to all the way through without the slightest hint of monotony; at the same time, you could savor each of the sixteen miniatures for its own surprises without ever getting tired.  There I saw this group for the first and only time in Germany in 2007, thanks to Manfred Selchow, and found them exciting and deep: the disc captures their subtleties and drive wholly.  It’s beautifully recorded and (as a bonus) has expansive notes by our own Dan Barrett.

The songs are SHAKE IT AND BREAK IT /  MESSAGE FROM MARS (groovy and futuristic by Sid Phillips) / THE GHOST OF MARSDEN GHETTO (an atmospheric piece by Colin T. Dawson) / DON’T EXPLAIN / BUTTERFLY CHASE (Lhotzky-Chopin) / THE GOON DRAG (Sammy Price) / DELIRIUM (Arthur Schutt) / HIS HONOUR AND THE VERMIN / MOONLIGHT FIESTA (also known as PORTO RICAN CHAOS) / LIEBESLIED (Kreisler) / TWILIGHTNIN’ HOPKINS (by Chris) / DON’T SAVE YOUR LOVE FOR A RAINY DAY (an obscure Harold Spina pop tune) / ODEON (Ernesto Julio Nazareth) / BUGHOUSE (Red Norvo – Teddy Wilson) / SPRING IS HERE / GAVOTTE (Shostakovich).

Here’s what Scott Hamilton said about this band:

I’ve been listening to these guys for a few years now, and they’re always full of surprises.  This CD is their best yet.  They all have a deep understanding of the literature, and they play from inside.  How they do it all with four instruments is beyond me.

But fortunately the CD isn’t beyond our reach: visit http://www.EchoesofSwing.com. for more information.

[*The Martians land in New York.  They’re friendly interstellar tourists who want to learn everything about us — to swap information and customs.  A curious New Yorker hands one of the Martians a toasted bagel to see what the alien might make of it.  The Martian, to everyone’s surprise, sniffs the bagel, inserts it into where his jaws might be, chews it a bit, and says (through simultaneous translation), ‘Mmmmm.  This would go great with cream cheese and lox.'”]

A ROSSANO SPORTIELLO RECITAL at JAZZ AT CHAUTAUQUA (Sept. 16, 2011)

Friday afternoon, before Jazz at Chautauqua “officially” begins, is given over to a series of solo recitals in the Hotel Athenaeum — around a grand piano.  I will be posting music by John Sheridan, Keith Ingham, James Dapogny, Howard Alden, and Maestro Sportiello, who embarked on an unbroken solo recital that began with pop classics — WALKIN’ BY THE RIVER and LUCKY TO BE ME — then segues into Schumann’s SCENES FROM CHILDHOOD and more:

Here’s the second part, featuring George Shearing, Bach, Chopin, and Don Lambert:

All I could say, then or now, is, “Beautiful, Rossano!”

INSPIRATION’S SOURCES

sicilia-2008-ms-and-yucatan-portraits-093

People who live for jazz recordings and performances are often surprised to find that jazz musicians need a more balanced diet — what Ruby Braff called “aesthetic vitamins.”  Coleman Hawkins listened to the “modern classical music” of his day, as did Bix, and Louis drew energy and solace from John McCormack records.  The anecdotes below are testimony from most illustrious sources.  And, since the universe seems occasionally to operate harmoniously, they came to me — independently — in the last two days.

First, from Dan Morgenstern about his hero and mine, Vic Dickenson:

When I interviewed Vic Dickenson years ago and asked him what trombone playing he had listened to in his formative years (making the point, as you will see, wrongly, that trombone playing back then (Vic b. 1906) was of the tailgate variety) he didn’t say anything but went to his small collection of records, pulled out an old 12-inch 78, and put it on. It was a beautiful version of Celeste Aida by Arthur Pryor, Sousa’s trombone soloist and assistant conductor before going out on his own, and most certainly known to Tommy Dorsey. These are the kind of things you won’t learn from most jazz history sources.

And here is a generous website featuring “recordings from the nineteenth century,” where you can hear THERE’LL COME A TIME, made in 1897, featuring Pryor, whose playing is astonishingly mobile.  Although the link probably does not work within this post, visit http://home.clara.net/rfwilmut/19thcent/19th.html.

Then, taking it one step beyond (from appreciation and immersion to actual performance), Sam Parkins testifies:

No one thinks about jazz people’s interest in classical music. Bird listening to Bartok, that awesome tale of Dave McKenna playing the Ravel Piano Concerto chilling out after a record date. “But Dave – you can’t read music -” “Yeah I know. I learned it off a record”. And a friend staying in a hotel in Chicago where Earl Hines was playing. He comes down for breakfast late; after he goes to the lobby and the door to the nightclub is ajar. Hears piano. By the bare single ‘off duty’ light Hines is working on Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 111 — the really hard one. Oh – & AL Haig only practiced Chopin.

More to come on this subject.

I took the photograph above about ten months ago.  It is my version of “where inspiration comes from.”  Anyone care to guess the country and region?