There isn’t much that needs to be said about this performance of WEST END BLUES except to say that it is gorgeous — impassioned and exact — and that we miss Tom Baker, who did so many things superbly. Tom’s on cornet; Michael Supnick, trombone; Evan Christopher, clarinet; Chris Hopkins, piano; Martin Wheatley, banjo; Trevor Richards, drums, and this resounding piece of music was preserved by us through the sainted efforts of my friend and hero Enrico Borsetti:
Tom left the scene in 2001. Born in 1952. What a loss. But thank goodness for the heroes in this video who are, as we say, keepin’ on.
I had to wait until September 2004 to meet Jon-Erik Kellso in person, although I’d been hearing him on CDs from his earliest Arbors recordings with Rick Fay in 1991 and a little later with James Dapogny. Earlier today — as a respite from reading student essays — I posted a trio of his performances in August 2017 with Chris Flory and Joel Forbes, which you can savor here.
But our good friend, the generous and talented Enrico Borsetti, has just offered something special from a set by Dan Barrett’s Blue Swing, performing at Ascona on July 2, 2000 — Jon-Erik’s performance of STAR DUST, which I would call a “rhythm ballad,” poised between melancholy introspection and rocking motion. I’d call it quietly majestic, its passion always evident but controlled — soul in action, alongside Ray Sherman, piano; Eddie Erickson, guitar; Joel Forbes, string bass; Jeff Hamilton, sound-painter with a drum kit. Hear and admire for yourself:
I am delighted to reside on Planet Kellso, where beautiful dreams become reality. An honor.
I now have an opportunity to share with you some wonderful videos of the amazing musician Tom Baker (1952-2001) who lives on.
Below is a picture of our benefactor and generous friend, Enrico Borsetti, who took a video camera to the 2000 Ascona Jazz Festival and recorded treasures — some of which I have already posted, featuring Dan Barrett, Jeff Hamilton, Ray Sherman, Jon-Erik Kellso, Brian Oglivie, John Smith, Eddie Erickson, Joel Forbes, and Rebecca Kilgore.
Another magnificent band, led by pianist / singer Keith Nichols, was called The Blue Rhythm Makers — and here on YouTube you can see two incarnations with different personnel. The one I share today features the immensely talented and much-missed Tom Baker (trumpet, trombone, reeds, vocal, and more I am probably leaving out), my friend-heroes Matthias Seuffert, Martin Wheatley, Frans Sjostrom.
Here you can learn more / see more about Tom, who made the transition at 49.
Here’s Tom’s very touching reading of ANNIE LAURIE, which I think unforgettable, especially thinking of such a brilliant man who is no longer with us:
and a searing I KNOW THAT YOU KNOW:
and a radiant version of Benny Carter’s ONCE UPON A TIME:
Since I believe that “the dead” KNOW, I send tears and reverent admiration to Tom Baker. And let us not forget the living, to whom I send gratitude.
My dear friend Michael Burgevin was the first person I knew who used the expression “Give me a shout,” when he meant “Call me when you can,” or “Be in touch,” and it’s almost archaic these days. But I know MB would enjoy what I am about to post.
It’s only a few minutes long, but it is both Prime and Choice — and the result of the kind energetic generosity of our friend Enrico Borsetti, who took his video camera to the JazzAscona, Switzerland, and captured a set by Dan Barrett’s Blue Swing — a noble band that had, alongside Dan, Jon-Erik Kellso, Brian Ogilvie, John “Butch” Smith, Ray Sherman, Eddie Erickson, Joel Forbes, and Jeff Hamilton.
Here’s a wonderful blues with flourishes, composed by Luis Russell and Charlie Holmes for the splendid band (featuring also Henry “Red” Allen, J. C. Higginbotham, Albert Nicholas, Paul Barbarin, and Pops Foster) the former led from 1926-34, named for the Saratoga Club, where they romped:
I’ll let Jon-Erik have the last word: “Can’t believe this was 17 years ago already. Fond memories of playing with Dan Barrett’s Blue Swing at the JazzAscona fest in Switzerland. “Saratoga Shout” by Luis Russell. I miss our friend Brian Ogilvie, the tenor player here, very much, he left us much too young. I also miss this band, one of the finest I’ve been a part of.”
And Enrico, our Benefactor, promises to share the rest of the set with us. Grazie, amico!
As we know, sometimes The Past comes out of the darkness and raps us sharply across the bridge of the nose. In this case, it’s given us a very warm hug.
I would guess that hot jazz, especially the Chicagoan variety, would have upset Hercule Poirot’s delicate stomach, but we could use his help on this matter. This posting owes its existence to my new jazz-friend (although I’ve read his work for a long time), Larry Kart of Chicago. I’ll let Larry start us off:
You may be way ahead of me here (at least I hope you are), but listening to the radio Saturday, I heard this 1927 track “The New Twister” by The Wolverines (Bix’s old band under the leadership of pianist Dick Voynow, with Jimmy McPartland taking Bix’s place). The music has IMO a proto-Chicagoans feel (the first McKenzie-Condon sides were shortly to be made). Drummer Vic Moore has a nice a “Chicago shuffle” feel going, 17-year-old reedman Maurice Bercov, says Dick Sudhalter in “Lost Chords,” had “heard Johnny Dodds and the rest on the South Side but worshipped Frank Teschmacher, emulating his tone, attack, off-center figures … he wound up recording two months before his idol [did] .”
But who the heck was trombonist Mike Durso, who takes the IMO impressively fluid solo here?
Thanks to “Atticus Jazz” for the lovely transfer of this rare 78, as always:
The personnel of this band is listed as Dick Voynow, piano; director; Jimmy McPartland, cornet; Mike Durso, trombone; Maurie Bercov, clarinet, alto saxophone; unknown guitar; Basil Dupre, sb / Vic Moore, d. Chicago, October 12, 1927.
Back to Larry:
By contrast, here is THE NEW TWISTER played by Miff Mole and the Molers (with Red Nichols, et al.) from the same year. Mole’s trombone work here is not without its charms, but in terms of swing and continuity, it’s day and night, no?
To complicate matters (or to add more evidence) here is the reverse side of that disc, SHIM-ME-SHA-WABBLE:
Larry continues:
The guitarist on the Wolverines track is Dick McPartland, Jimmy’s brother. Bercov’s contemporary, pianist Tut Soper, described him as an “extremely galling, sarcastic and difficult man.”
Looking for more on Durso, I came across this “moderne” 1928 piece by trumpeter Donald Lindley, “Sliding Around,” on which Durso may be a sideman. (There’s no trombone solo though.) Jazz it’s not, though it’s certainly aware of jazz — those oblique references to “Royal Garden Blues.” That’s Lindley , b. 1899, in the cap [the YouTube portrait]:
The beautiful video is by our friend Enrico Borsetti, another one of my benefactors, and the Lindley side eerily prefigures the Alec Wilder Octet.
Finally, here is LIMEHOUSE BLUES by “The Wolverine Orchestra” which might have Durso audible in solo and ensemble:
After Larry had asked me about Durso, and I had to confess that I’d barely registered his name or these recordings, and I had no information to offer (he’d stumped the band), I went back to the discography and was pleased to find that Durso had a history, 1923-28 and then 1939: recording for Gennett under the band name “Bailey’s Lucky Seven” which had in its collective personnel Jules Levy, Jr., Jimmy Lytell, Red Nichols, Frank Signorelli, Hymie Farberman; then Sam Lanin, with Vic Berton, Merle Johnson, Joe Tarto, John Cali, Tony Colucci, Ray Lodwig; sessions with the Arkansas / Arkansaw Travelers, a Nichols group where the trombonist may be Mole or Durso. That takes him from 1923-25; he then records with Ray Miller, with Volly DeFaut. All of this takes him to 1926, and all of it is (if correctly annotated) recorded in New York. The Wolverines sides above are in 1927, in Chicago, as a re 1928 sides with the larger Wolverines unit, Donald Lindley, and Paul Ash (a “theatre orchestra,” Larry says).
Then, a gap of a decade, and Durso, in 1939, is part of the Vincent Lopez Orchestra, recording for Bluebird. Then silence.
I realize that discographies are not infallible research documents, and that Durso might have made dozens of sides that a jazz discography would not notate, so I am sure this listing is incomplete and thus not entirely accurate. But, to paraphrase Lesley Gore, I think, it’s my blog and I’ll surmise if I want to. I am going to guess that Durso, probably born around 1900 or slightly earlier, was one of those musicians who could read a tune off a stock arrangement, blend with another trombone in a section, improvise a harmony part, knew his chords, and could — as you hear above — play a very forward-looking solo given the chance. Remember that THE NEW TWISTER came out in 1927. Who were the trombonists of note? Ory, Brunis, Tommy Dorsey, Jimmy Harrison, Charlie Green, Benny Morton, Mole, perhaps Charlie Butterfield. Teagarden may or may not have impressed everyone yet. (I am sure I have left out a few names.) Durso had technique but wasn’t in love with it, and his playing is lightly swinging and mobile; his solos make logical sense, with no cliches.
So between 1923 and 1928 or so he is what we might call “a studio man,” who obviously is known for his improvising ability, otherwise he would not have been in the studio with McPartland. (Scott Black! Did Dugald ever mention Mike Durso?) More speculation follows. I can safely assume that pre-Crash, Durso might have made a living as an improvising musician, but at some point the safer employment of sweeter big bands might have called to him. Did he have a family to support? Did he perhaps appreciate a regular paycheck playing in theatres and dancehalls as opposed to playing in speakeasies? I can’t say, having even less that speculation to go on. Did he die after 1939, or do some war work and decide that getting home after 5 PM with a lunch pail was easier than being a hot man?
The trail goes cold here. Perhaps some readers can assist us here. I know that you know, to quote Jimmie Noone. And if no one can, at least we have the collective pleasure of having heard Mike Durso on THE NEW TWISTER. Thanks in the present tense to Larry Kart; thanks in advance to those of you who will flood the comments section with information.
The dashing fellow above (from a 2009 photograph) is the jazz scholar-devotee Enrico Borsetti. I know him as a fine fellow, although we have never met in person. His generosity is remarkable, but this is a new example: Enrico’s video-recording of music from the 2002 Ascona Jazz Festival, specifically this wonderful band, the Blue Rhythm Makers. For this date, they were Keith Nichols, piano and vocal; René Hagmann, cornet, reeds; Matthias Seuffert, reeds; Christoph Wackerbarth, trombone; Martin Wheatley, guitar;
Frans Sjostrom, bass sax, with guest appearances by Andy Stein, violin; Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet. This music was created at the Ristorante Tamaro, Ascona, on Sunday, July 7, 2002.
WHEN DAY IS DONE and POISON:
THE MAN FROM THE SOUTH and I WISH I WERE TWINS:
with guest star Andy Stein, violin, DOIN’ THE NEW LOW DOWN:
And the poignant I’LL NEVER BE THE SAME:
ONE HOUR (Keith sings the lovely verse):
Jon-Erik raises the temperature, even for July, with a rousing SWING THAT MUSIC:
and Andy returns to close the first half of this performance with THAT’S A PLENTY, certainly an accurate description of these wonderful videos.
(Incidentally, I am pleased and amused to note that Enrico’s world is much like mine in the matter of videos: umbrellas and people with cameras obscuring the view, crashing dishes and more — but the sound blazes right at us, and these videos are true gifts.) Here‘s Enrico’s YouTube channel, where all varieties of beauties blossom.
Photograph and source material courtesy of Enrico Borsetti
It’s not yet 9 PM in California (where I am writing this) but it will be midnight in New York City. So let me join in the imagined chorus and wish all the readers of JAZZ LIVES deep happiness in 2012 and the future.
When in doubt, let these words guide you through 2012 and onwards!
The custom, for some, at the end of the year, is to look back sadly at those we have lost. I’ve felt those losses, and I know you have too. But at this moment, let us celebrate the artists who continue to give us so much joy, and those new players and singers we will come to discover in the New Year. Thanks, you cats, for swinging so!
And an aside: Rubinoff was so famous as a “long-haired” violinist, but metaphorically and literally, that when I worked a part-time job as an undergraduate, my boss — who wanted all his employees clean-shaven and short-haired, would upbraid me when he thought I should get a haircut, “Who do you think you are, Rubinoff?” I must have asked him — or my father — to explain the reference, but this was forty years after the photograph shown above.
Here’s another famous radio orchestra with an immediately recognizable star:
Ed Wynn, of course, for Texaco, sometime between 1931 and 1935. I love the gas pumps on stage and the fact that the people in the front row, men and women, are for the most part wearing Fire Chief helmets. Take me back to that time and place! Don Voorhees led the orchestra, and Graham MacNamee was the announcer who bantered with Ed.
I know my readers will leap to the challenge, even if they aren’t fighting over the coffee or the gasoline. And heartfelt thanks to Leo McConville Jr. for providing these evocative glimpses into our past. And thanks to Leo McConville Sr. — of course!
P.S. My friend Enrico Borsetti, who is both gracious and generous, wrote me to say that he identified Joe Tarto on tuba in the Rubinoff shot and in the Texaco one he sees Scrappy Lambert, Tarto, Tony Parenti, and Miff Mole, among others. Grazie, Enrico!
Last week, I met Leo McConville, Jr. and his wife Linda in New York City . . . they are warm, friendly people and we had a laughter-filled time.
Leo brought copies of some photographs that included his father, and I was able to identify a few more characters — Vic Berton, Miff Mole, Red Nichols, possibly Larry Binyon (these photos will emerge on JAZZ LIVES in time). But here are several photographs that would benefit from collective explication.
What can my readers tell us? Inquiring minds want to know.
Let’s start with a fairly straightforward one:
I’d say Miff Mole, then the pride of Ogden, Utah — Loring “Red” Nichols, and Leo. I originally thought the mellophone player was Dudley Fosdick, but Enrico Borsetti explained that this was the brass section of Don Voorhees’ EARL CARROLL’S VANITIES orchestra and that the mellophonist (?) was Bill Trone.
Recognize anyone? I’d place this — at the latest — 1934 — but that’s only because Leo left New York City and the music business around then. He is standing in the middle, behind the right shoulder of the seated man (the leader?).
News flash from a friend in 2014: that’s the Paul Specht Orchestra with guitarist Roy Smeck as featured soloist.
And something charming but more mysterious. Who are these people? Jimmy Dorsey is the driver. But the ladies?
Here’s Jimmy and “Jamie” on their wedding day, Valentine’s Day, 1928:
As an experiment, here are the photographs at double the size above to aid JAZZ LIVES readers reaching for magnifying glasses. The ratio is distorted, but the details are larger. Here’s the Peerless Quartet:
And that mysterious band:
What car is Jimmy driving?
I couldn’t omit the happy couple — watch fob and bouquet in full splendor.
The spiritually generous Enrico Borsetti sent me a gift of this image.
He said he thinks of it as my Seal. I’m thrilled. What it stands for is sacred:
Three years ago, on February 21, I posted my first blog-entry: an announcement of the 2008 Jazz at Chautauqua. JAZZ LIVES gives me immense pleasure among dear friends and a new community. I’m having the time of my life, thanks to the music, the Beloved (whose idea it was I start a blog), and to my readers.
February 25, 2011, marks another anniversary: it is one month since I began my experiment in asking my readers to give something back to the musicians. As I write this, the JAZZ LIVES fund for the musicians has collected $758.00 from eighteen people (including myself and the Beloved).
I promised at the start that I wouldn’t editorialize or have an animated thermometer to show how much money was coming in, or not. And I know that times are tough and that some jazz fans don’t have disposable money. But a young musician, a young woman musician in the Midwest, sent me five dollars — her gum money for the week — to support the jazz creators she admires and has met on this blog. That makes me feel good, and I trust that it does the same for my readers.
These donations are, I am sure, only the first of many!
Finally, on the night of February 28, 2010, I was coming home from a wonderful night at The Ear Inn. I will say only that my heart stood still (to quote Lorenz Hart) and I woke up face-down on the sidewalk: less than a week later I was the proud possessor of an incision, a pacemaker and defibrillator. Now I keep excellent time, should you ask. A year of being newly alive is something to celebrate, I hope you will agree.
JAZZ LIVES, too. Thanks to all of you!
SENDING THANKS WARMS THE HEART: CLICK HERE. ALL MONEY COLLECTED GOES TO THE MUSICIANS!
Through the good offices of Enrico Borsetti, I learned of this on the Bixography webpage. For all the details, visit http://www.eddielangdayinphiladelphia.blogspot.com/. Marty Grosz will be there: need I say more?
Although I’ve always understood that part of the urge to collect has in it the urge to keep something for oneself — “Mine! Mine! Not yours!” screams the toddler self — I am delighted beyond words when someone in the jazz collecting world says, “Here! Listen to this! Let everyone listen to this!” The Italian jazz scholar Enrico Borsetti is one of these heroic figures. And now I’ve met another person, in cyberspace to be sure, who has showered riches upon us. His name is Mike Tarani.
I found the blog MUSIC FOR DRUMMERS through a Google Alert for “Jo Jones.” I have now seen a great deal of information about Susie Jo Jones, and Jolanda Jo Jones, and Mr. and Mrs. Bo Jo Jones. I’m sure they are all beyond compare, but none of them played drums in the Basie rhythm section, none of them fired rimshots and accents behind Tommy Ladnier at Carnegie Hall. You understand.
MUSIC FOR DRUMMERS has devoted an astounding post to Jonathan David Samuel Jones (and kindly mentions my piece on Jo in this blog) — which includes YouTube videos. AND it includes mp3 versions of Jo’s famous two-record set, THE DRUMS.
But wait! There’s more! MFD also offers — free and gleefully — the tape of an oral history interview of Jo done by Milt Hinton, circa 1973. Hearing those voices nearly brought me to tears.
My goodness!
And, as Mae West never said, “Goodness has everything to do with it.” Blessings on Mike Tarrani for his generosities.
Three clips from a vanished era — when movies were introduced by black-and-white newsreels (and cartoons, short subjects, even travelogues) that had time to show jazz musicians, those vivid people, in action. Here are three very short excerpts brought to us by that intrepid jazz time-traveler Enrico Borsetti. The subjects of the first clips will be more than familiar (you’ll see Arvell Shaw in the big band clip) but the surprise, for me, was of the brilliant New Orleans clarinetist Albert Nicholas in the final clip.
Those of you who don’t speak Italian fluently and rapidly will find the narration difficult at first — but my readers are good at improvising!
In the first post (April 1959) the welcome is provided by the Roman New Orleans Jazz Band, and don’t ignore those beautifully dressed, smiling “stewardesses”:
Then, we move to Holland (May 21, 1958) in front of a very happy audience. FINE comes all too soon:
Finally, the International Jazz Festival at San Remo (February 1, 1956) with twelve glorious bars of Albert Nicholas — one luminous blues chorus:
Also featured are Italian jazz notables Nunzio Rotondo, Carlo Pes, Romano Mussolini, Gilberto Cuppini and the Milan College Jazz Society.
P.S. I have a particular sentimental attachment to footage of this kind because my late father worked for a time at Movietone News. Irrelevantly, perhaps — one of his colleagues was Walter Bishop Sr., father of the modern jazz pianist.
Thanks to Enrico Borsetti, who pointed me in this direction, here are two versions of FROM MONDAY ON by the Original Prague Syncopated Orchestra. The first, a loose improvisation on the theme at a leisurely tempo, was recorded in May 26, 2008 and performed by a small contingent — it’s halfway between a rehearsal and a jam session, a most rewarding creation! (Life backstage, a pleasure.)
The members of the “Originální Pražský Synkopický Orchestr” here are Pavel Klikar (leader, trumpet, mellophone),Tomáš Černý and Jakub Šnýdl (clarinets), Jan Šimůnek (violinophone), Petr Wajsar and Tony Šturma (guitar), Jiří Šícha a Zbyněk Dobrohruška (banjo), Ondřej Landa (bass).
This more elaborately formal version, a beautiful production number, adds a vocal trio, a violin trio, a chorus line of beauties, a bit of visual comedy, and the contributions of Ondrej Havelka — also recorded in 2008. Although the purists have had their heated say, it gives me a taste of what a 1928 stage show might have been like.
JAZZ LIVES 