Tag Archives: drum set

SIDNEY CATLETT, TRIUMPHANT

Two of these photographs are new to me — they are objects of desire in eBay bidding skirmishes.  But here we can admire them without having to skimp on groceries. 

Presumably they date from the early Forties and come from the estate of John C. Brown of Baltimore, Maryland.  Brown (so the eBay bio says) was a jazz drummer into the Fifties, associated early on with Jack Teagarden; later a popular concert promoter and jazz writer.  Other photographs for sale depict Earl Hines, Benny Goodman, Slick Jones, Jo Jones, Benny Carter, Eddie Duchin, Billy Eckstine . . . .  

But Sidney Catlett, short-lived and magisterial, is our subject here. 

The first photograph is a famous one, a still from one of Louis Armstrong’s Soundies, circa 1942.  The second is less familiar: Teddy Wilson’s sextet at Cafe Society, circa 1944: WIlson, Benny Morton, Emmett Berry, Ed Hall, Sid, Johnny Williams. 

But this one is the masterpiece, I think. 

As a composition, it’s not flawless; the empty space to Sidney’s left suggests it was less posed than captured.  But I imagine that the photographer was moderately hemmed in by the situation.  The setting seems a concert stage; (s)he may have been using natural light (I don’t catch the reflections one associates with a flashbulb) — thus the portrait has a candid character to it and Sidney seems caught unaware, in motion. 

Sidney’s mouth is half-open, as if he was making an emphatic sound in tune with his drums; his eyes seem half-focused, as if he was in a rhythmic trance.  But his face seems peaceful and youthful: could this be from the late Thirties? 

I know I have drum scholars in my reading audience — Hal Smith, Mike Burgevin, Kevin Dorn, Jeff Hamilton among them — what does anyone think about Sidney, the landscape, and his set? 

I love the cymbal holder on the right, Sidney’s ring, the way he is holding one brush quite firmly and the other is caught in mid-stroke, an accent off the snare. 

And I would wear that necktie myself. 

A wonderful moment in time, and we can imagine the floating, urgent sound he created: how much energy his image can still create, one hundred years after his birth.

 

PAPER EPHEMERA, CONTINUED

Drummer and jazz scholar Kevin Dorn and I were discussing these historical drum ads at Birdland last week.  Although we delight in them, we share the same skepticism.  A drum company representative came up to George Wettling, say, and asked, “George, would you like a new set of _ _ _ _ _ drums for free?  And we’ll give you a hundred dollars to let us use your picture in an ad?”  Wettling or anyone else always could use another set of drums, as well as the money, so he posed for a photo behind the set of drums that he swore were his favorites.  Perhaps a thousand young men went out and beleaguered their parents to buy just that set because their idol played it. 

Mildly fraudulent or not, full of language we doubt the drummer himself used, these pages are enchanting.  How many times in our lives will we see Dave Tough (not Davey, mind you) advertising something in a magazine — as if people would follow his lead?  It suggests a pre-Fall universe, now vanished.  This ad (like the Ray Bauduc autograph in the previous post) is available for purchase at eBay.  A thrilling oddity, never to come again.

Tough