Tag Archives: Daryl Sherman

A PRIVATE RECITAL: DARYL SHERMAN’S BLUE HEAVEN

Daryl-at-piano-green-web

Singers who perform in public — as they must — have singular obstacles to face in performance.  Even though the ringing cash register is now a museum piece, there are so many extraneous sounds to surmount even when the audience is properly quiet and (imagine this!) everyone’s smartphone is shut off.  Dishes and glasses clink; the waitstaff murmurs details of the specials, offers a dessert menu, presents the bill.  The presumed answer to this is amplification, which can make a quiet sound audible at the back of the room, but in the process coarsens every nuance.

A CD session recorded in a studio has its own set of obstacles: the creative artist may be restricted to one small space, may be burdened with headphones and be banished into a booth . . . but we don’t see these travails, and the sound we hear through our speakers is a kinder representation of the human voice.

Hence, this delightful surprise (recorded by Malcolm Addey, so you can imagine the clear, accurate sound) in 2015:

My-Blue-Heaven-CD-cover-768x319

In case you can’t read the back cover, the songs are I Walk a Little Faster / Wouldn’t It Be Loverly / Feel Like Makin’ Love / Lets Go Live In a Lighthouse / Cycling Along With You / Inside a Silent Tear / My Blue Heaven / A O Zora / You Turned the Tables On Me / Fly Me To The Moon / You Wanna Bet / The Brooklyn Bridge / The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress.

And the Orchestra with Vocal Refrain is Daryl, piano and vocals, with Harvie S, string bass, on tracks 2 and 10.  It’s a delightfully old-fashioned CD: twelve tracks, fifty minutes, but no need to turn it over.

From the start, it’s a wonderful chance to hear Daryl — “her ownself” — as we might say in the Middle West a century ago.  She is of course her own splendid accompanist, and her two selves never get in each other’s way.  And I would direct some pianists who revere Tatum as their model to her spare, pointed accompaniment.

Her voice is the true delight here.  Daryl sounds so much like herself, and is I think instantly recognizable, although one may call to mind Mildred Bailey, Blossom Dearie, and Dave Frishberg as musical colleagues and inspirations.  I think she’s been undervalued because of what sounds (to the casual listener) like girlish charm, a high sweet voice with a conversational, sometimes wry delivery. But once the listener is into this CD for more than a chorus, the absence of other instrumentalists allows us to hear emotional depth beneath the apparent light-heartedness.  This isn’t to say that the disc veers towards the dark or maudlin, but there is a true adult sensibility that makes even the most familiar material shine as if beautifully polished and lit.  And even if you think you know how Daryl sings and plays, I submit that this CD is her masterpiece to date, sending us gentle immediacy of the most rare kind.

It’s a wonderful one-woman show, with nothing to excess, and a CD I’d like to send to many singers to show ’em how it can be done.

Matters of finance!  If you send Daryl an email here, and say the magic words, “I’d like to buy MY BLUE HEAVEN,” her staff will help you do just that.  You can also ask for an autographed copy.  For now, checks only: $20 plus $ for shipping.  You can also browse around her site to learn about upcoming gigs, to read her biography, see pictures, and more.  I’m amused and pleased that four of the five videos are mine.

 May your happiness increase!
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YOUR HOMEWORK ASSIGNMENT: JOHNNY MERCER, 1934

Please put your phones away and let’s begin.

I first heard this song in its original performance many years ago — it was issued on a Jack Teagarden compilation — and fell in love with it.  Later, I’ve heard the three other versions (Joe Haymes, Chris Ellis, and the happily-still-singing Daryl Sherman) but I keep coming back to Mister Mercer’s original, recorded on August 24, 1934, with Sterling (or Stirling) Bose, trumpet; Jack Teagarden, trombone; Fulton McGrath, piano; Dick McDonough, guitar; Hank Wayland, string bass — and the session was directed by Victor Young.

I should mention that the music was composed by Bernard Hanighen — who’s not well-known today, but he is responsible for WHEN A WOMAN LOVES A MAN, lyrics to Monk’s ‘ROUND MIDNIGHT, and he co-produced Billie Holiday’s 1936-39 records . . . and was her dear friend and advocate.

Daniel, do you have a notebook?  Would it be a good idea to open it up and write some things down?  As I’ve said, you can burn it in the backyard when this course ends.  But I digress.

The song is THE BATHTUB RAN OVER AGAIN, and blissfully this recording has everything: an unaccompanied Jack Teagarden cadenza to start and a Dick McDonough coda to close.  In between, we hear Mercer — someone I think of as one of the finest singers ever in his early phase, with a distinctive boyish twang to his lyric delivery and a real flair for playful improvising (measure his second chorus against his first):

Everything on this recording works for me — the cheerful rhythm section behind Mercer’s first chorus, and the tag, “So before I drown / The whole darn town / I think you better say ‘I do,'” which to me is the first marriage-proposal-with-the-threat-of-apocalypse-attached I know.  (So there, Andrew Marvell!)  Then the instrumental interludes: Bose sounds just a touch uncertain, and my guess is that he hadn’t seen the song before, since it was brand new, but he doesn’t lose the thread.  Teagarden’s minor bridge is easily tossed off, but what sounds!  And McDonough’s accompaniment is a wondrous etude in itself.  In the second chorus, I adore the larger freedom Mercer allows himself, the murmur of Teagarden’s horn under Johnny’s singing, the little break and stop-time additions.

I know.  I tend to get carried away.  But even when your professor is ecstatic in front of the room, if you take out your phone and begin to text, you will be asked to leave.

I assume that the song is meant for a male singer, but there are no explicit references.  So the vision of someone in the bathtub, sprucing up for an eight o’clock date with someone so adored that a marriage can be envisioned, is dear. And the conceit that the bather is so deeply in dreamland that the tub overflows and the very polite people underneath protest in the most genial way, “Dreamin’ ’bout your baby’s OK / but the house is floating away!” is beyond charming.  I know it is not an environmentally-correct song: wasting water is criminal, but I hope that in the name of dear love all things can be forgiven.

Any questions?

Your assignment for next class.  Learn this song.  Learn it so deeply that you can sing it, verse and chorus, with a smile on your face, with no lyrics in front of you. Sing it to the one you love; sing it to your children; hum it on the subway.  I want to hear THE BATHTUB RAN OVER AGAIN being whistled on the street; I want to hear Mr. Mercer’s voice coming out of earbuds on this campus and elsewhere, I want to hear four men or four women harmonizing on it as they walk down the street, arm in arm, grinning.

It’s not too much to ask.

I have some papers to give back.  Enjoy yourselves, and I’ll see you next class, when we’ll be reading Whitman.

May your happiness increase!

 

FOR IVIE: CECILE McLORIN SALVANT / DARYL SHERMAN at the WHITLEY BAY CLASSIC JAZZ PARTY (Nov. 3, 2013)

Jazz parties sometimes are stereotyped as loud — raucous affairs where one high-energy band or singer succeeds another.  This isn’t true, and I offer this tender interlude from last year’s Whitley Bay Classic Jazz Party — in honor of Miss Ivie Anderson.  The very expressive Cecile McLorin Salvant is joined here by the underrated pianist (and much-loved singer) Daryl Sherman to summon up a vanished era and the entire Ellington band of 1937 in the Mack Gordon – Harry Revel THERE’S A LULL IN MY LIFE:

And although you may be completely captivated (and rightly so) by Cecile’s singing on a first hearing, I would draw your attention to Daryl’s perfectly subtle accompaniment — with the verse.  I think Daryl’s final chord is as touching as anything that has preceded it.

LULL IN MY LIFE sheet

Thank you, dear Cecile and Daryl.  And of course, Miss Ivie.

May your happiness increase!

 

BECOMING ENLIGHTENED: CECILE McLORIN SALVANT and DARYL SHERMAN SING ELLINGTON at WHITLEY BAY (Nov. 3, 2013)

Here’s an energized romantic song, a Forties Ellington hit, performed by two “hip chicks” and a swinging band (unfortunately off-camera) at the 2013 Whitley Bay Classic Jazz Party.

They are Daryl Sherman (in mauve) next to Cecile McLorin Salvant, and the band is Richard Pite, drums; Malcolm Sked, string bass; Jacob Ullberger, guitar; Morten Gunnar Larsen, piano; Duke Heitger, trumpet; Kristoffer Kompen, trombone; Matthias Seuffert, reeds.

I’m posting this not only because of its delightful savor, but because I can count the days (about fourteen) until the next Whitley Bay Classic Jazz Party. It begins on the evening of Thursday, November 6, and runs until late Sunday night, November 9 . . . possibly into Monday morning.  Tickets may still be available: you can check here. It might be costly for those not close to Newcastle, UK, to attend, but it is eminently worth the trip. There’s no festival like it, nor (in my decade of serious study of the matter) has there ever been.  In the ancient dialect of the area, “Get thee hence, if thou canst.”

May your happiness increase!

TWO FOR MILDRED: DARYL SHERMAN at the WHITLEY BAY CLASSIC JAZZ PARTY (Nov. 1, 2013)

It’s always pleasing to me when an artist fully inhabits the present while offering a deep understanding of the tradition.  The soulful Miss Daryl Sherman does just that.

Here, Daryl honors one of her idols and mine, Mildred Bailey, at the 2013 Whitley Bay Classic Jazz Party. She is accompanied by Duke Heitger, trumpet; Alistair Allan, trombone; Jean-Francois Bonnel, reeds; Emma Fisk, violin; Keith Nichols, piano; Henri Lemaire, string bass; Spats Langham, guitar; Richard Pite, drums.

First, the lovely I’LL CLOSE MY EYES:

Then, Mister Berlin’s cheerful I’VE GOT MY LOVE TO KEEP ME WARM:

I’ve been remiss in not posting these earlier, but a variety of technical difficulties held them back.  Thank you, Daryl, and swinging players, for telling your stories with a swinging beat.

May your happiness increase!

STOMPING AT WHITLEY BAY (November 2013)

First, the theme song of the overtired jet-lagged jazz blogger:

Having offered that, I proceed to the reason for the joyous exhaustion: my visit (with video camera and notebook) to the 2013 Whitley Bay Classic Jazz Party. To tell all the tale would tax my five wits, but the music — small concerts in the main ballroom, plus rehearsals and jam sessions in the Victory Pub — was engrossing.  As I write this, more than three hundred videos are up-or-downloading.  And many of them will be shared with what I know is a fervent audience.

Speaking of that audience, I met a number of most grateful and devoted JAZZ LIVES readers in person, always a very heartwarming experience.  I said to more than one person, “It means so much to me to know that real people are out there, that I am spending hours in front of the computer so that _____ can see and enjoy this performance.”  Thank you all, those people I’ve met and those yet to be encountered.

I’ve been attending the banquets of music put on at the Village Newcastle in England since 2009 — first, the Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival, now the Classic Jazz Party — and they have always delighted and enlightened. They continue to reflect the spirit of their departed founder, Mike Durham, who felt that if the music was not presented in its historical context, then that history would be lost.  So these weekends have always offered us something more elaborate than six people on the stand having a good time playing the blues or a ballad medley: mini-concerts that are often highly educational although never tedious.

On paper, it might look as if one had wandered into a living jazz museum — the Hot Tate, for instance.  But since “museum” has immediate associations of antiquity, with the treasures safely packed away, visible but out of reach, I think the Classic Jazz Party is more properly compared to a wondrously shape-changing repertory company.  One hour, Matthias Seuffert is Johnny Dodds; another, he has reappeared as Coleman Hawkins, then Lester Young, which is the jazz equivalent of seeing Olivier one night as Iago, then next as Stanley Kowalski, a third as Everyman.

This year, there was a lively hour of Jelly Roll Morton, a swinging evocation of the early Basie band, two sessions of Ellington (Twenties, then late Thirties), a lovely reincarnation of the Coon-Sanders Nighthawks — where else would such a thing happen? — an hour with the 1929-31 Luis Russell band.  There were also more informal tributes to Mildred Bailey, Lee Wiley, Coleman Hawkins, Stuff Smith and Eddie South, Bix Beiderbecke, Eddie Condon and the Chicagoans, Harry Reser, Ray Noble and Al Bowlly, Jabbo Smith, Fats Waller and his Rhythm, Bessie Smith, Johnny Dodds’ Black Bottom Stompers, Tiny Parham, the California Ramblers, Clarence Williams Jazz Kings, King Oliver in New York, British dance bands, the Jimmie Noone Apex Club Orchestra, and more . . . torch songs and cheerful songs from the Great Depression, solo piano recitals, two outings for Jeff and Anne Barnhart’s Ivory and Gold, and more.  The program lists thirty-eight separate sessions, including the nocturnal happenings in the Victory Pub, which (I am told) continued well past 2:30 AM.

The players and singers were:

Bent Persson, Duke Heitger, Andy Schumm, Ben Cummings, Andy Woon, Torstein Kubban, Kristoffer Kompen, Alistair Allan, Graham Hughes, Aurélie Tropez, Stéphane Gillot, Jean-Francois Bonnel, Claus Jacobi, Matthias Seuffert, Lars Frank, Frans Sjostrom, Keith Nichols, Jeff Barnhart, Morten Gunnar Larsen, Martin Seck, Spats Langham, Henry Lemaire, Jacob Ullberger, Roly Veitch, Richard Pite, Henry Lemaire, Malcolm Sked, Phil Rutherford, Jean-Philippe Palma, Josh Duffee, Julien Richard, Nick Ward, Emma Fisk, Daryl Sherman, Cecile McLorin Salvant.

I won’t single out individual performers — that would take more energy than I have at the moment — but the music ranged from excellent to enthralling.

Thanks to all the musicians, to Mike Durham, to Patti Durham, to Julio and Jonathan, and to pals Bob and Bobbie, Ron and Ellen, Peter and his saxophone, to Michel Bastide, to Emrah and Pascal,to Norman Field,  to Mary B. and John Carstairs Hallam . . . and more.

And — not incidentally — here are the last notes I heard on Sunday-night-into-Monday-morning before I went to bed.  The jam session at the Victory Pub continued, but here’s KING PORTER STOMP — featuring Morten Gunnar Larssen at the portable keyboard; Andy Schumm on C-melody saxophone; Torstein Kubban on cornet; Kristoffer Kompen on trombone; Jacob Ullberger on banjo; Nick Ward on drums; Claus Jacobi on Frans Sjostrom’s beloved bass saxophone:

Stomp, indeed.  More to come.

And “more to come” is a serious thing.  Amid general rejoicing, it was announced that the 2014 Whitley Bay Classic Jazz Party will be held, beginning Friday, November 7, 2014.  As Harry Barris wrote, IT MUST BE TRUE.

May your happiness increase!

ON MY WAY / TO WHITLEY BAY / WHERE GOOD TIMES ARE PLENTIFUL

Feel free to join in with my new song — doggerel created to the tune of Harry Belafonte’s JAMAICA FAREWELL: “I’m on me way / to Whitley Bay / won’t be back / till late Monday / I’m all excit’ / Won’t miss my flight / I know I’ll have a time / at Whitley Bay.”

Obviously, I have no reputation as a composer of calypso.

The omens and portents are much more favorable today than they were in 2012.  That trip that began with this weary traveler leaving his passport at home and making a costly racing roundtrip to retrieve it. The glorious jazz weekend ended with Superstorm Sandy and its global effects.   Of course, in both cases, I was helped immensely by generous strangers (at British Airways) and swing friends.

But Whitley Bay — now the Classic Jazz Party, formerly the International Jazz Festival — has been a special place since my first visit in 2009. There I met and admired Bent Persson, Aurelie Tropez, Nick Ward, Jacob Ullberger, Matthias Seuffert, Emma Fisk, Frans Sjostrom, Norman Field, and two dozen others. There I basked in the wit and generosity of the late Mike Durham, who still remains a vivid presence. I will be looking around corners for him all weekend long.  And this year the visiting Americans aren’t so bad, either: Andy Schumm, Josh Duffee, Duke Heitger, Jeff Barnhart, Daryl Sherman.

This year’s party offers exciting thematic presentations: the music of Coon-Sanders, early Ellington, Mildred Bailey, Lee Wiley, Basie 1937, Johnny Dodds, Eddie South and Stuff Smith, rare Bix, rare Fats, California Ramblers, and more.  My camera batteries are charged and I feel the same way.

I wish I could sweep you all along with me, but the airlines are fussy about bringing unscheduled guests.  So I hope JAZZ LIVES readers have patience: I will video-record as much as possible, and subject to musicians’ approval, you will see much of it in the months to come.

I expect to be busy listening, recording, talking and hanging out — living life away from the computer — so if this blog seems quiet for this long weekend, don’t feel abandoned. I am simply gathering new material for your pleasure.

I don’t anticipate think that any of my readers has sufficient frequent flyer miles to jump on a plane right this minute, but “day tickets” are still available, £50 a day.  Details here.  But you’d have to be fairly close to Newcastle to make this possible.  (On a whim, I checked Expedia for round-trip from New York and the least expensive flight was $1500.)

By the time some of you read this, I will already be on a Delta flight to Newcastle by way of Amsterdam . . . a jazz pilgrim on one of the great pilgrimages, bearing notebook and camera, CDs and snacks, clothing, pills, and an umbrella — instead of a scallop shell.

See you back at the ranch on Tuesday, November 5!

Here’s a little music from the 2012 Party, a video of mine that has not been made public before, to lift up your spirits and embody what the weekend is all about.  Rene Hagmann, cornet; Jean-Francois Bonnel, clarinet; Roly Veitch, guitar; Manu Hagmann, string bass, performing THAT’S A-PLENTY in hono(u)r of the Bechet-Spanier Big Four. My feelings exactly.

May your happiness increase!