I’m here to share pleasures: on March 16th, otherwise an ordinary Wednesday night, the OAO and I witnessed a memorable musical constellation. It took place in the darkness, but darkness is not the enemy of swing. Billed as the Tamar Korn Quartet (at Cellar Dog, 75 Christopher Street, Greenwich Village, New York City) it was Tamar, magnificently herself; Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Mark Shane, piano; Kevin Dorn, drums. It’s been my good fortune to know and hear all of them, separately and together, for years. Inspiration was evident, and good feeling.
Three times during the night, Tamar suggested that they trio have an instrumental interlude, opportunities that were memorable from the first bar.
For their first performance, Mark chose the Dietz-Schwartz affirmation (think Fred Astaire, think Henry “Red” Allen): SHINE ON YOUR SHOES:
Then, the very friendly-reliable EXACTLY LIKE YOU (I missed the first seconds, and apologize for it):
and the (musical) question I hope my readers don’t have to ask, WHAT’S THE REASON (I’M NOT PLEASIN’ YOU)?:
And because Tamar sang, acted, danced, so wonderfully, I call your attention to the wonderful song she sang at the start:
When I first met Mara Kaye, on the other side of the continent, about six years ago, she was a fervent advocate of “other people’s blues,” often the chansons of Victoria Spivey, Ida Cox, and Memphis Minnie. Happily she continues to perform these songs, but she’s also added wonderful swing classics to her repertoire, many harking back to the Billie Holiday recordings of the Thirties and early Forties.
Here’s one, quite famous, that she renders with swing, joy, and conviction — accompanied by a splendid group of improvising stars: Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Evan Arntzen, clarinet and tenor saxophone; Arnt Arntzen, guitar; Jared Engel, string bass.
All of this happened at the end of a Cafe Bohemia Jazz Quartet gig — at the downtown home of happy sounds, 15 Barrow Street, Greenwich Village, New York City. And I felt Irving, Fred, Ginger, Ella, and Louis looking on approvingly.
That music is good news to me. But the good news continues: tomorrow, Thursday, February 6, Mara will be returning to Cafe Bohemia, starting at 8 PM, joined by Jon-Erik Kellso, Brian Nalepka, string bass, and Tim McNalley, guitar, although so far it seems that the stairs are too narrow to allow Mara to bring that lovely bathtub.
Those who understand pleasure and enlightenment can buy tickets here.
There are maladies everywhere, but there are also cures. You could see your doctor and get a prescription designed to take care of angst, malaise, and ennui; it would be a little plastic vial with a long name that would surely upset your stomach. Or you could simply click on the two videos below, never before seen, and wait for the results . . . with no side-effects. Music hath charms, indeed.
Rebecca Kilgore, Rossano Sportiello, Dan Barrett, Jon Burr, Ricky Malachi at Jazz at Chautauqua 2012.
These two performances took place at the Jazz at Chautauqua weekend in September 2012, and they bring joy. Specifically, Rebecca Kilgore, Rossano Sportiello, Dan Barrett, Jon Burr, and Ricky Malachi — vocals and guitar, piano, trombone, string bass, and drums — do that rare and wonderful thing.
Here’s a burst of optimism in swing, the 1939 pop hit above, which has been so completely overshadowed by WHAT A WONDERFUL WORLD and IT’S A BIG WIDE WONDERFUL WORLD that I am immediately grateful to Becky and friends for singing and playing it:
And resilience added to optimism, in a song associated with the unlikely spectacle of Fred Astaire having trouble mastering a dance step.
This Kern-Fields beauty occasionally gets mixed up with the Berlin LET YOURSELF GO, perhaps the same principle, but one is about recovery (even a triumph over gravity) — the other, release:
These performances are from seven years ago, but Becky and friends are currently performing their magic in various ways and places. You can find out her schedule here, and there is her seriously beautiful new CD with Echoes of Swing (Bernd Lhotzky, Colin T. Dawson, Chris Hopkins, and Oliver Mewes) called WINTER DAYS AT SCHLOSS ELMAU, about which I’ll have more to say soon. Rossano’s globe-crossings are documented here; Jon Burr’s many adventures here and Dan Barrett’s here.
We love Ray Skjelbred, who loves Jerome Kern, Dorothy Fields, Ginger Rogers, Fred Astaire, and Joe Sullivan. Here, he starts THE WAY YOU LOOK TONIGHT — dedicated to Ginger, her hair a mass of shampoo-suds — as a rubato exploration, then shifts into dreamy dance music:
And here’s the original scene from SWING TIME, which makes me wish that the fantasies of 1936 were plausible: that our lovers could serenade us so tenderly through the bathroom door. I don’t know where the RKO studio orchestra would fit themselves, but no matter.
Thanks to Ray for evoking such a sweet moment, and to Rae Ann Berry for the video. And here‘s Ray’s November 2016 solo rendition of this song (he told me it was the first time he’d performed it) along with several other gems.
JAZZ LIVES is not taking you to a wartime Edward R. Murrow broadcast, nor to the capital city of Germany, but to the imperishable songbook of the unequaled Irving Berlin as performed by three hero-friends: Dawn Lambeth, vocal; Sam Rocha, string bass; Paolo Alderighi, piano — at the Jazz Bash by the Bay in Monterey, California:
and another song with strong connections to Fred Astaire and Ginger Rodgers:
What a lovely group! I hope to see them again and would gladly buy their CD. Or a boxful.
Incidentally, I am embraced by a wonderful synchronicity: I write this post from my hotel room at the astonishingly rewarding Redwood Coast Music Festival, where I heard Dawn yesterday and will hear Sam today . . . talk about being in the right place at the right time.
There’s something weirdly irresistible about jazz records with tap-dance passages, especially in this multi-media age when we expect to see as well as hear. The tradition goes back to Bill Robinson, Fred Astaire, and forward to Jack Ackerman and Baby Laurence, among others.
A charming example of the phenomenon is the two sides the Nicholas Brothers (Fayard and Harold) recorded for American Decca, with a small, well-disciplined yet hot band — Decca studio players (who were also recording with Dick Robertson, the Andrews Sisters, Frank Froeba, and Teddy Grace) including Bobby Hackett, cornet; Ralph Muzzillo, trumpet; Al Philburn, trombone; Sid Stoneburn, clarinet; Frank Signorelli, piano; Dave Barbour, guitar; Haig Stephens, string bass; Stan King, drums.
I single out Bobby because he has a pearly eight-bar bridge on the first side, and to me, eight bars of Hackett is like a previously unknown Yeats fragment. On the second side, Philburn and Stoneburn take the solos. But listen closely to the underrated but distinctive Stan King throughout. I don’t think the sides sold very well, because Decca did not repeat the experiment.
Those of us who have heard Ray Skjelbredplay the piano will not be at all surprised that he is also a poet of words and images, captured at a different keyboard.
Sycamore
One day all the leaves blow away. I have been worrying about the wrong things.
Let those words take up residence inside you before moving on, in a southerly direction, to the rest of this post. You can read more of his poetry at the link above.
Ray has written a sketch of his development as a poet, starting as a boy who “got up early to listen to the birds in the courtyard of our apartment building,” which tells me more than a hundred pages of analytic prose by an outsider would.
A rare and deep fellow.
Most of us encounter Ray when he has settled himself on the piano bench and is ready to fill us with sounds and colors, as he did at the 2016 San Diego Jazz Fest. Hereis my earlier presentation of music he created there on November 26, 2016.
And more. I will preface these selections by saying only that tenderness is so rare in life, and certainly more so in jazz played for audiences. Let Ray’s melodic explorations, gentle and whimsical, move into your house.
Joe Sullivan’s MY LITTLE PRIDE AND JOY:
“a tiny shred” of I AIN’T GOT NOBODY, with a beautiful ending that loops around to the opening phrase of the verse:
A version of THE WAY YOU LOOK TONIGHT that has the quiet intent seriousness of a hymn at the start:
Ray told me that he thinks of Joe Sullivan or Ginger Rogers in this scene from SWING TIME — so if you haven’t seen it recently, you might want to steal three minutes from your day and dream into this world of lovely possibilities:
I abandoned my adult responsibilities last Thursday to hear the Jon De Lucia Octet at City College, and I am so glad: this performance was an oasis.
Jon’s group, in existence for slightly more than two years, is a flexible, swinging chamber group devoted to the music-for-saxophones of Gerry Mulligan, Lee Konitz, Jimmy Giuffre, Ted Brown, Bill Smith, Alec Wilder, the Dave Brubeck Octet, and Jon’s own arrangements and compositions. I’ve been following Jon and the Octet around New York since their inception, and have always felt rewarded. Here is a sample from March 2017.
Perhaps it no longer applies, but it used to be fashionable to characterize such music as “cerebral,” to some, a euphemism for chilly aural architecture, jazz drained of untidy emotions, art from the neck up. Not true for the Octet, which is a warm, mobile band, always with a generous offering of improvised solos. You’ll hear and see for yourself.
If you have an established prejudice against what is perceived by some as “cool,” please take a visit to PRESERVATION, DREAMILEE, DISC JOCKEY JUMP . . . . and then re-assess.
At this too-brief concert, the players were Jon, alto saxophone and clarinet; Stefan Vasnier, piano; Aidan O’Donnell, string bass; Steve Little, drums; Jay Rattman, tenor saxophone; Dan Block, alto saxophone and clarinet; Ricky Alexander, tenor saxophone; Andrew Hadro, baritone saxophone.
Gerry Mulligan’s DISC JOCKEY JUMP, originally composed by young Mr. Mulligan for the Gene Krupa ensemble, then arranged for saxophones a decade later by Bill Holman:
Jerome Kern’s PICK YOURSELF UP (I think of Fred Astaire pretending to be clumsy) arranged by Jon:
The Gershwins’ TREAT ME ROUGH, from GIRL CRAZY, arranged by Dick Hyman for a Trigger Alpert record date:
PRESERVATION, by Ted Brown, a sinuous improvisation on Lester Young’s TICKLE-TOE, arranged by Jon:
The gorgeous PRELUDE, by Dave Van Kriedt, originally for the Dave Brubeck Octet:
DREAMILEE, Lee Konitz’s solo / variations on I’LL SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS, arranged by Jon:
PRELUDE TO PART FIRST, a Baroque jazz fantasy by Jon, which I associate with his new Bach Shapes book:
Cole Porter’s very pretty LOOKING AT YOU (I think of Lee Wiley’s 1940 recording with Bushkin and Berigan) arranged by Jon. Dance music for very hip couples:
and a memory of a vanished New York City subway-system entrance machinery, TURNSTILE, again composed by Mulligan and arranged by Holman:
Jon’s Octet — with the splendid Ted Brown — will be releasing their debut recording, a live performance from their first recital — on Neal Miner’s noble Gut String Records— this summer. Expect to hear more about it here.
Dawn Lambeth, Kris Tokarski, Larry Scala, Nobu Ozaki, Hal Smith, Jonathan Doyle, Marc Caparone at the San Diego Jazz Fest
What Phil Schaap calls “the swing-song tradition” — a nimble swinging singer accompanied by an equally swinging group — is epitomized for most people by the 1933-42 recordings Billie Holiday made with Teddy Wilson, Lester Young, and other luminaries. However, it was going on before Billie entered the studio (Connie Boswell, Lee Wiley, Mildred Bailey) and it continues to this day (Rebecca Kilgore, Daryl Sherman, Barbara Rosene, Petra van Nuis, and others). Dawn Lambeth shines in this setting, and the three performances captured here at the San Diego Jazz Fest both reflect the great tradition and show what joy and art these musicians bring to it. (I was reminded often, as well, of the late-life recordings Maxine Sullivan made in Sweden, which are very dear to me.)
I know that the tradition wasn’t exclusively female — think of Henry “Red” Allen among others — but I am holding back from making a list of all the swingers. You’ll understand.
If you more evidence of Dawn’s magic — and the band’s — before proceeding, I invite you to visit hereand here. She sounds wonderful, and there’s fine riffin’ that evening.
Here are three beauties from that same set. First, Irving Berlin’s ALL BY MYSELF (which is really quite a lament — but not when swung this way):
Then, the tender ONE HOUR — someone is sure to write in and say that it is really called IF I COULD BE WITH YOU ONE HOUR TONIGHT. Yes, Sir (there are no Female Corrections Officers in jazz-blog-land!) — by James P. Johnson and Henry Creamer:
And finally, Mr. Berlin’s I’M PUTTING ALL MY EGGS IN ONE BASKET, with thanks to Fred Astaire, as always:
To quote Chubby Jackson, but without a touch of irony, “Wasn’t that swell?” I certainly think so.
This new CD doesn’t have a false note in it, just tremendously satisfying music.
I don’t recall the first time I heard Hilary Gardner sing, with or without Ehud Asherie’s accompaniment, but I was smitten — in a nice legal Platonic way — by the blending of her tender, expressive voice and his elegant, sometimes raucous piano. Singular individualists, they combine in wonderful synergy, and this CD expertly reproduces what it’s like to hear marvelous improvisations in a small club full of attentive, sympathetic listeners, leaning forward to catch every nuance. The sound is spectacularly fine — by which I mean natural, and you don’t have to leave your house to “be there.” (Although seeing them at Mezzrow on West Tenth Street has been one of my great pleasures for a few years.)
Both Hilary and Ehud are splendid connoisseurs of the best songs, and this recital shows off their sensitivity to fine melodies and telling lyrics: SHADOW WALTZ by Al Dubin and Harry Warren; SWEET AND SLOW by the same two masters in a completely different mood; the very sad Rodgers and Hart A SHIP WITHOUT A SAIL; the ancient but still lively AFTER YOU’VE GONE with the never-heard second chorus; I NEVER HAS SEEN SNOW, by Harold Arlen and Truman Capote; Irving Berlin’s immensely touching I USED TO BE COLOR BLIND; the wicked EVERYTHING I’VE GOT, again by Hart and Rodgers; the sweet command to MAKE SOMEONE HAPPY, by Adolph Green, Betty Comden, and Jule Styne; the wistful SEEMS LIKE OLD TIMES, by John Jacob Loeb and Carmen Lombardo.
Song-scholars will find connections to Fred Astaire, Diane Keaton, Arthur Godfrey, Sophie Tucker, Lee Wiley, Fats Waller, Busby Berkeley, and two dozen others, but this is not a CD of homages to the Ancestors nor to their recordings. Although the majority of the songs are enshrined in “the Great American Songbook,” this CD isn’t an exercise in reverential mummification. No, the magic that Hilary and Ehud bring to these possibly venerable pages is to sing and play the songs for real — asking the questions, “What meaning might be found here? What feelings can we share with you?” And, ultimately, “Why are these songs so affecting in themselves?”
I’ve celebrated Ehud a great deal on this blog: his ability to create a Frolick all by himself, evoking both Bud Powell and Francois Rilhac, his touch precise but warm, his marvelous ability to think of anything and then to play it, his eye for the perfect swinging epigram a master archer’s.
Hilary was a wonderfully complete singer when I first heard her. She has outdone herself here. I find myself reaching for adjectives: is her voice “warm,” “creamy,” “light,” “rich”? Then I give up, because it sounds as if I am a blindfolded contestant on a cooking show assessing a pound cake.
In plain English: she swings, she understands the lyrics, she improvises splendidly but without theatricality, and when she descends into a song, even if it’s one she’s sung a hundred times before, she comes to the surface, immensely naturally, showing us something we’ve never thought of before. She’s witty but not clever; emotive but not melodramatic, tender but not maudlin. Her approach is warm, delicate, unhurried.
When Hilary and Ehud did a brief tour of the Pacific Northwest not long ago, they visited KNKX, did an interview about the CD, and performed three songs in the studio — SWEET AND SLOW, I NEVER HAS SEEN SNOW, and AFTER YOU’VE GONE. Here‘s the link to watch the videos and hear the interview.
You can find THE LATE SET at iTunes, Amazon, Spotify, and the Anzic Records site. I urge you to find and purchase a physical disc, because one of the great pleasures — hidden inside — is Hilary’s own pitch-perfect evocation of “the late set” in what I presume is a New York City jazz club.
This is extraordinary music. How delightful that it exists in this century.
Eddie Condon and his friends made hot music lyrical and the reverse, so what they played and sang always makes me glad. And Eddie loved to improvise on the best popular songs of the time, not just a dozen “jazz classics.”
I think most people associate EASTER PARADE with the film starring Fred Astaire and Judy Garland, but the song was from the 1933 show AS THOUSANDS CHEER — as the sheet music indicates. Here is a very sweet contemporaneous version by Joe Venuti and his Orchestra, with Joe very reserved. In addition to a nice orchestral sound, fine lively piano (Schutt?) and guitar (McDonough,Victor, or Kress?) — both unidentified in Lord and Rust — there is a gorgeous vocal by Dolores Reade, who gave up her singing career to marry Bob Hope. Nothing against the comedian, but that was a real loss to everyone else. (I found a copy of this 78 in a California thrift store, so it might have enjoyed some popularity.)
Here are several “Americondon” improvisations for this holiday, taken from the 1944-45 broadcasts of segments of Eddie’s Town Hall Concerts. Some of these videos end with the introduction to another song, but you can — I believe — find much more from these concerts on YouTube, almost always mysteriously labeled and presented. (Performances featuring Hot Lips Page are presented on a channel apparently devoted to Willie “the Lion” Smith, for reasons beyond me — whether ignorance or deceit or both, I can’t say. But if you know the name of a song performed at a Condon concert, you have a good change of uncovering it there.)
Those who listen attentively to these performances will find variations, both bold and subtle, in the four versions that follow — tempo, solo improvisations, ensemble sound.
Here’s that Berlin song again, featuring Bobby Hackett, Miff Mole, Pee Wee Russell, Ernie Caceres, Jess Stacy, Sid Weiss, Gene Krupa:
and featuring Max Kaminsky, Ernie, Pee Wee, Jess, Bob Casey, Eddie, Joe Grauso, at a slower tempo, with wonderful announcements at the end.
and featuring Max, Miff, Ernie, Pee Wee, Jess, Jack Lesberg, George Wettling, and happily, a much more audible Eddie — doing an audition for a Chesterfield (cigarette) radio program:
and from the very end of the broadcast series (the network wanted Eddie to bring in a comedian and he refused), here are Billy Butterfield, Lou McGarity, Pee Wee, Ernie, Gene Schroeder, Sid Weiss, and my hero, Sidney Catlett, whose accompaniment is a lesson in itself, and whose closing break is a marvel:
You’ll hear someone (maybe announcer Fred Robbins?) shout “WOW!” at the end of the first version: I agree. Happy Easter in music to you all.
I suspect that everyone who reads JAZZ LIVES has heard the magical sounds of Joe Bushkin‘s piano, songs, voice, and trumpet. My birthday celebration for him is a bit early — he was born on November 7, 1916, but I didn’t want to miss the occasion. (There will also be birthday cake in this post — at least a photograph of one.)
He moved on in late 2004, but as the evidence proves, it was merely a transformation, not an exit.
I marvel not only at the spare, poignant introduction but Bushkin’s sensitive support and countermelodies throughout.
“Oh, he was a Dixieland player?” Then there’s this:
and this, Joe’s great melody:
A list of the people who called Joe a friend and colleague would include Billie Holiday, Benny Goodman, Bunny Berigan, Sidney Bechet, Eddie Condon, Lee Wiley, Joe Marsala, Bing Crosby, Fred Astaire, Louis Armstrong, Jack Teagarden, Bobby Hackett,Tommy Dorsey, Frank Sinatra, Bunny Berigan, Fats Waller, Buck Clayton, Milt Hinton, Zoot Sims, Bill Harris, Buddy Rich, Hot Lips Page, Sidney Catlett, Judy Garland, Jimmy Rushing, Rosemary Clooney, Tony Spargo, Red McKenzie, Ella Fitzgerald, Dave Tough, Brad Gowans, Benny Goodman, Joe Rushton, Roy Eldridge, Willie “the Lion” Smith, Ruth Brown, June Christy, Barney Kessel, Pearl Bailey, Gene Krupa, Stuff Smith, Chuck Wayne, Jake Hanna . . .
Here’s a sweet swinging tribute to Irving Berlin in 1951 that segues into Joe’s own homage to Miss Bankhead, PORTRAIT OF TALLULAH:
He’s on Billie’s SUMMERTIME and Bunny’s first I CAN’T GET STARTED; he’s glistening in the big bands of Bunny, Tommy, and Benny. He records with Frank Newton in 1936 and plays with Kenny Davern, Phil Flanigan, Howard Alden, and Jake Hanna here, sixty-one years later:
But I’m not speaking about Joe simply because of longevity and versatility. He had an individual voice — full of energy and wit — and he made everyone else sound better.
A short, perhaps dark interlude. Watching and listening to these performances, a reader might ask, “Why don’t we hear more about this wonderful pianist who is so alive?” It’s a splendid question. In the Thirties, when Joe achieved his first fame, it was as a sideman on Fifty-Second Street and as a big band pianist.
Parallel to Joe, for instance, is Jess Stacy — another irreplaceable talent who is not well celebrated today. The erudite Swing fans knew Bushkin, and record producers — think of John Hammond and Milt Gabler — wanted him on as many record dates as he could make. He was a professional who knew how the music should sound and offered it without melodrama. But I suspect his professionalism made him less dramatic to the people who chronicle jazz. He kept active; his life wasn’t tragic or brief; from all I can tell, he didn’t suffer in public. So he never became mythic or a martyr. Too, the jazz critics then and now tend to celebrate a few stars at a time — so Joe, brilliant and versatile, was standing behind Teddy Wilson and Art Tatum, then and now. He was also entertaining — someone who could act, who could do a television skit with Bing and Fred, someone who could fill a club by making music, even for people who wouldn’t have bought a Commodore 78. Popularity is suspect to some people who write about art.
But if you do as I did, some months back, and play a Bushkin record for a jazz musician who hasn’t heard him before, you might get the following reactions or their cousins: “WHO is that? He can cover the keyboard. And he swings. His time is beautiful, and you wouldn’t mistake him for anyone else.”
One of the memorable moments of my twentieth century is the ten-minute YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY / MOTEN SWING that Joe, Ruby Braff, Milt Hinton, Wayne Wright, and Jo Jones improvised — about four feet in front of me — at the last Eddie Condon’s in 1976. “Memorable” doesn’t even begin to describe it.
Consider this: Joe and his marvelous quartet (Buck Clayton, Milt Hinton or Sid Weiss, and Jo Jones) that held down a long-running gig at the Embers in 1951-2:
Something pretty and ruminative — Joe’s version of BLUE AND SENTIMENTAL:
And for me, and I suspect everyone else, the piece de resistance:
For the future: Joe’s son-in-law, the trumpeter / singer / composer Bob Merrill — whom we have to thank for the wire recording (!) of SOMEDAY YOU’LL BE SORRY — has organized what will be a stellar concert to celebrate his father-in-law’s centennial. Mark your calendars: May 4, 2017. Jack Kleinsinger’s “Highlights in Jazz” at the Tribeca Performing Arts Center. Ted Rosenthal, John Colianni, Eric Comstock, Spike Wilner, piano; Nicki Parrott, string bass; Steve Johns, drums; Harry Allen, tenor saxophone; Adrian Cunningham, clarinet; Bob Merrill, trumpet; Warren Vache, cornet; Wycliffe Gordon, trombone; and of course a surprise guest.
Here’s the promised photograph of a birthday cake. Perculate on THIS:
Here is a shining, memorably understated lesson in how to play the melody, how to embellish it, how to honor it. Harry Allen, tenor saxophone; Ehud Asherie, piano, perform the Jerome Kern – Dorothy Fields song I WON’T DANCE (so deeply associated with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers) at the 2015 Allegheny Jazz Party — now the Cleveland Classic Jazz Party:
I honor Dorothy Fields’ dear clever lyrics in my title, and when Harry and Ehud play Kern’s melody and their own beautiful embellishments on it — at a very danceable tempo — I still hear the words, which is all praise to her work.
Did you know that this duo (and perhaps two dozen other musicians) will be appearing at the Cleveland Classic Jazz Party— starting on Thursday, September 15? Now you do. And when we meet there, I or someone else will explain the secret of that huge flower arrangement, which serves a very useful purpose.
Through the generosity of the musicians, I present some more glorious music created and recorded at The Ear Inn just this month, on March 20, 2016. And for those who missed the first helping, hereit is: swing happiness with great feeling created by Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Scott Robinson, tenor saxophone, mellophone, and more; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Pat O’Leary, string bass.
All of this happens when the EarRegulars assemble for one of their Sunday evening raptures (around eight o’clock to around eleven, flexibly) at 326 Spring Street, Soho, New York City.
And I now present two more delights from that evening. (I was going to call this post THE EGGS AND YOU, but the legal staff was not amused, so I dropped the idea.)
I’M PUTTING ALL MY EGGS IN ONE BASKET is the EarRegulars’ nod to Easter, and to Irving Berlin, and to Fred Astaire, and to Louis (whose 1936 Decca recording of this song also features brightly popping drum accents from Stan King). No drums here, just floating improvisations:
IF I HAD YOU — very groovy, very mello(w), but also sweet and tender:
There’s more to come. Bless these musicians and their Spring Street shrine.
Incredible 1950s Guest Book for the Liberty Music Shop
Guest book for the famed Liberty Music Shop of New York, containing approximately 200 autographs and inscriptions, signed by distinguished visitors, a virtual who’s who of the cultural life of 1950s New York. Written approximately 15 to a page on the first 14 pages, some with date or place or comments, concluding with a large bold signature by Marian Anderson, written diagonally across the blank page. Oblong 8vo, leatherette. New York, [1956-57]. The signers include Ernest Hemingway, Samuel Barber, Martha Graham, Anna Magnani, Hubert de Givenchy, Anthony Perkins, Fred Astaire, Hoagy Carmichael, Sarah Vaughan, Sammy Davis Jr., Bill Hayes (with an AMQS), Alan Jay Lerner (2x), Yul Brynner, Ogden Nash, Alfred Lunt, Lynn Fontaine, Andres Segovia, Margaret Hamilton, Tony Bennett, Myrna Loy, Edna Ferber, Zino Francescatti, Byron Janis, Farley Grainger, Rex Harrison, Broderick Crawford, Edward G. Robinson, George Szell, Jessica Tandy, Basil Rathbone, Claudette Colbert, Hazel Scott, Raymond Massey, Michel Auclair, Alexander Smallens, Kate Smith, James Mason, Ray Bolger, Benny Goodman, Noël Coward, Joan Blondell, Arnold Stang, Constance Talmadge, Garson Kanin, Mischa Elman, Erica Morini, Connee Boswell, Mario del Monaco, Robert Helptmann, Andor Foldes, Marta Eggerth, Vincent Price, Lillian Gish, Paulette Goddard, J. William Fulbright and dozens more.
The Liberty Music Shop was a fixture in the New York music scene from the 1930s through the 1950s, catering to cognoscenti and celebrities.
Why should this be on JAZZ LIVES? One, it’s a spectacular rarity. Some of the names above should excite people who apparently only listen to jazz, night and day. But for the most seriously narrow readers, there’s also a genuine Benny Goodman signature and — happiness! — a Jo Jones inscription, which is how he signed two record jackets for me in 1981-2. The seller offered photographs of sample pages — not all fifteen — which means that some of the signatures noted above aren’t visible. But enough are to make it fascinating.
Here’s the first page, beautifully signed by Marian Anderson:
and here I see Mischa Elman, Peter Lind Hayes, Alan Jay Lerner, Farley Grainger, Edward G. Robinson, and Joyce Van Patten, among others.
Here’s Jack Carter (who just left us), Bill Hayes, Garson Kanin, Herman Shumlin, and Earle Hyman . . .
And where else would you find Ray Bolger and Francoise Sagan in such proximity?
I love the strange combinations: Gene Tunney, Herb Shriner, Jo Jones, Margaret Hamilton, Tony Bennett, and Herb Shriner, the last asking for a discount.
Still more: David Rose and Chris Connor.
And Charles Boyer, an authentic Benny Goodman (unless he brought one of his staff to sign for him), Kevin McCarthy, Givenchy, and Anthony Perkins.Finally, Dorothy Gish, Hoagy Carmichael, Fred Astaire.
Keener eyes than mine will no doubt discern other famous names. It’s an awful cliche to say that giants walked the earth, but I know for certain that they went to the Liberty Music Shop.
It was great good fortune and the generous impulse of Spike Wilner, the owner-patron saint of Mezzrow (163 West 10th Street, New York City) that brought singer Hilary Gardner and pianist Ehud Asherie together for an offering of beauty on May 18, 2015. Here are some remarkable performances from that evening of song:
For Fred and Ginger and lovers everywhere, Mister Berlin’s divine CHEEK TO CHEEK:
EVERYTHING I’VE GOT speaks to a more dangerous romantic entanglement, with physical force, courtesy of Rodgers and Hart, and rollicking piano by Ehud:
Think globally, sing locally — as in A BROOKLYN LOVE SONG. Hey!:
AFTER YOU’VE GONE, a fitting farewell, loose-jointed and completely playful (including explosively joyous piano from Ehud):
and, if you missed the earlier postings, here are two sublime performances of songs not heard enough in this century:
I would say that what follows is a once-in-a-lifetime performance, but every time I’ve heard Hilary Gardner sing or Ehud Asherie play, such things have happened with wondrous regularity. This epiphany took place on May 18, 2015, at that shrine for music, Mezzrow.
As readers of JAZZ LIVES know, I am not one to hyperbolize, but I remember clearly the delighted anticipation I felt when this performance began: “Oh, my! They’re going to do that song? And at that gorgeous tempo?” For I USED TO BE COLOR-BLIND, certainly not a well-known song, had been “swung” by Fred Astaire and Mildred Bailey in its original incarnation in 1938. We don’t acknowledge Irving Berlin sufficiently as a writer of the most gorgeous love songs, but this is one. I couldn’t hold my breath for three minutes, but it felt as if I was doing just that, so delicious the immersion in rare feeling.
Hilary and Ehud understand the song’s emotional center: the lover’s astonished delight at finding experiences and perceptions changed utterly. One’s familiar world now made brilliant. And that transformation is something to savor, second by second, note by note:
I marvel at this. Such healing tenderness, such rare art. It’s a rainbow.
An ideal evening in New York — or anywhere else — with the brilliant pianist / composer Ehud Asherie and his expert friends, David Wong, string bass; Aaron Kimmel, drums. This mini-concert took place at Jazz at the Kitano on March 4, 2015.
Songhounds will notice that Ehud currently draws much of his inspiration from songs written before 1945, but that his approach is wide-ranging, “modern” yet lyrical and deeply respectful of the original inspirations. He can offer a lovely classical tribute to a jazz set-piece (as in the deliriously fine Waller interlude below) but he is not only a conservator of traditions.
Ehud never reduces a song to a stark harmonic formula; rather, he opens its doors and plays around inside and outside of it. The trio swings assertively but cheerfully; this is endearing and engaging music.
A well-deserved nod to Fred and Ginger and those glorious films, LET’S FACE THE MUSIC AND DANCE:
A whimsically titled but emotionally kind original, THE WELL-EDUCATED MOTH (Ehud explains it all):
The very tender Eubie Blake – Noble Sissle love ballad in swingtime, A DOLLAR FOR A DIME:
For this, our tour guides are Kenny Davern, Dick Wellstood, Duke Ellington, and [stowing away in the hold] James P. Johnson — the accurately titled FAST AS A BASTARD:
Ehud’s Brazilian souvenir, SAMBA DE GRINGO:
His brilliant solo excursion into the Land O’Waller, AFRICAN RIPPLES / VIPER’S DRAG:
Who remembers Vincent Youmans? Ehud does: FLYING DOWN TO RIO:
The Ralph Rainger / Leo Robin THANKS FOR THE MEMORY is most often played at an appropriately mournful tempo, but Ehud gives it a kind of jaunty wave as he and the trio say “Bye now!”:
And we come back to Berlin and Astaire for TOP HAT, WHITE TIE AND TAILS:
Jazz at the Kitanohappens regularly in a comfortable space in the Kitano Hotel (66 Park Avenue in New York City) — worth the trip!
Thanks to Ehud, David, Aaron, our friend Maggie Condon, and the durable Gino Moratti, who helps good things like this to happen — always.
Ehud Asherie has always been one of the most brilliant pianists, wherever you find him, with a witty imagination and a racing car driver’s ability to change course, creating elaborate sound-constructions as he goes. At the remarkable new jazz club Mezzrow (163 West Tenth Street, Greenwich Village, New York City) on September 23, 2014, Ehud and the eloquently swinging bassist Joel Forbes played a few songs before bringing on Rebecca Kilgore.
This cinematic fantasia on Vincent Youmans’ FLYING DOWN TO RIO — a twisting steeplechase of a song — stays in my memory as a virtuosic display worthy of Bud Powell and a whole generation of swinging pianists:
And, if you haven’t seen it recently, here is the actual “pre-Code” aviation fantasy, from the 1933 RKO film of the same name — with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, although they weren’t yet paired:
Incidentally, if Mezzrow seems a cozy, welcoming room with a fine piano and glorious sound — all of these perceptions are correct.
Good things happen at Cafe Divine (1600 Stockton Street, San Francisco, California) — the food and the North Beach ambiance — but for me the best things happen on the third Sunday of each month, when the Esteemed Leon Oakley, cornet,and Craig Ventresco, guitar and banjo, improvise lyrically on pop tunes and authentic blues for two hours. I posted four performances from their satisfying June 15, 2014, session here. I was taught as a child to share . . . so here are five more beauties, in living color both in the view and the soaring improvisations.
STRUTTIN’ WITH SOME BARBECUE (with Craig on banjo, delightfully):
BLUES IN F (nothing more, nothing less — evoking Joseph Oliver):
MARGIE (that 1920 lovers’ classic):
And two songs that make requests — one spiritual, connected to Bunk Johnson and Sidney Bechet, LORD, LET ME IN THE LIFEBOAT:
and one secular — I think of Pee Wee Russell with TAKE ME TO THE LAND OF JAZZ:
Have you been? I refer to the hot chamber music sessions created by Maestro Leon Oakley and Professor Craig Ventresco — improvising on classic themes — held at Cafe Divine, 1600 Stockton Street, San Francisco, California, on the third Sunday of each month.
Here are the first four of a dozen treats — in living color visually as well as musically:
The Friday-night Hot Spot of Rhythm isn’t Boston’s Savoy Cafe on Mass. Avenue, nor is it the Savoy Ballroom uptown: it’s Cafe Borrone, 1010 El Camino Real, Menlo Park, California, on Friday nights from 7:30 to 10 PM, when Clint Baker and the Cafe Borrone All Stars arrange themselves on plain wooden chairs and swing out.
On May 16, 2014, the All Stars were Clint, trombone and vocal; Robert Young, soprano and alto sax and vocal; Leon Oakley, cornet; Nirav Sanghani, guitar; Bill Reinhart, banjo and National guitar; Tom Wilson, string bass; Steve Apple, drums.
Jazz detectives will hear evocations of Dicky Wells, the Rhythmakers, Fred Astaire, Bessie Smith, Clarence Williams, Ruby Braff, Wild Bill Davison, Louis Armstrong, Django Reinhardt, Red Allen, Rex Stewart, the Apex Club Orchestra, and much more. But this music is — blessedly — taking place in 2014, created on the spot by musicians who revere the old records enough to refrain from copying them. The result is simply uplifting.
BIG BUTTER AND EGG MAN:
EVERYBODY LOVES MY BABY:
I’M NOT ROUGH:
JELLY ROLL:
RED SAILS IN THE SUNSET:
A SHINE ON YOUR SHOES:
YOU’RE LUCKY TO ME:
MANDY, MAKE UP YOUR MIND:
SISTER KATE:
MONTMARTRE:
MARGIE:
SEE SEE RIDER:
SWEET SUE:
CRAZY RHYTHM:
I assure you that my videos can’t capture all the joy of hearing this band at close range, live, creating as they go. I waited a long time before making the southerly trek to Cafe Borrone. Don’t let this happen to you. . .
Thanks to Jeffrey Frey and his very pleasant people for making Cafe Borrone a nice place to visit, to hear music, to eat and drink and socialize.
JAZZ LIVES 