Tag Archives: Herb Snitzer


Even though the snow is beginning to melt, the thought of going to Florida for some warm music is very attractive: Bob Merrill’s shows at the Kravis Center in West Palm Beach, to be exact.

The amiable and expert Bob — trumpet, vocals, original compositions — has put together a concert presentation, engaging, hot, and sweet, to warm up our winter.  Here’s a sample from his 2011 presentation (with John Colianni, Jon Burr, and Vinny Raniolo):

For those who can’t hop a plane to Florida to see and hear Bob, he’s generously offered us another piece of Trumpet King memorabilia: the wonderful Herb Snitzer photograph of brass royalty (Louis was of course on the bus somewhere):

and since even I couldn’t identify everyone correctly without some notes, here’s the crib sheet:

and Herb autographed this wonderful photograph for Bob:

Another idea for those who can’t get themselves to the shows.  Check out Bob’s CDs here and here.  He’s got the right ideas.

May your happiness increase!




Photograph by Herb Snitzer

When I get a boxful of compact discs to review from CADENCE — the honest jazz magazine* — I am full of anticipation.  It’s a jazz birthday party in my apartment, as I find a knife to cut through the tape and unwrap the newspaper protecting the CDs.  Now, my first reactions aren’t always trustworthy.  Sometimes a CD I greet with glee turns out to be dull.  And occasionally something that looks tepid jumps right out of the chamber into my heart. 

This time, the box included a new CD by saxophonist Joel Press (known far and wide in Newton, Massachusetts and the Boston jazz scene) and pianist Kyle Aho.  It’s called UNTYING THE STANDARDS (Cadence Jazz Records 1204) and I admire it tremendously — for the way it balances “traditionalism” (the loving respect for the original melodies and a seductive rhythmic pulse) and “freedom” (brave explorations outside and inside).  I expect I will have more to say about this CD soon. 

But, for the moment, I would urge you to visit Joel’s site — www.joelpress.com. — to see a video clip of him blowing the blues with a purring tone and high emotional intensity, rocking back and forth as if caught wholly by jazz.  And you can read his own reminiscences of musicians and scenes past, although he is no museum exhibit himself.  In addition, you can read my own 2006 review of his CD, HOW’S THE HORN TREATING YOU? — where I couldn’t restrain my enthusiasm.  He’s someone you ought to know.  And I’m going back to my slow savoring of his new CD — an aesthetic meal too rich to be gobbled up in a sitting.

*This isn’t the place to launch into polemic, because I wrote this post to praise Joel Press — but I mean “honest” in that CADENCE separates the advertisements and the reviews, which is not typical of jazz magazines.  If editors of other magazines wish to respond to this and say why a glowing review on page 8 and an ad on page 9 poses no conflict of interest as they see it, I would be happy to discuss the issue with them in this blog.


The critical eye will find many flaws in the video clip below.  It takes place at a jazz festival (not in itself a bad thing) and the cast of characters is stellar: Dizzy Gillespie, Buddy Tate, Harry Edison, Woody Herman, Urbie Green, Jake Hanna , and Al Cohn.  But the end result is not all it might be: several musicians seem bored, detached.  Tate, during his better-than-average late-period solo, even glances around him for a second to mutely ask, “Aren’t any of you jazz all-stars going to play a riff or a background behind me?  Do I have to do all of this myself?”  Herman, pursued to his death by the IRS, looks exhausted and frail.  The composition, IN A MELLOTONE, Ellington’s line on the 1917 ballad ROSE ROOM, is mis-identified by the translator / subtitler: it’s not BERNIE’S TUNE.

But then there’s Al Cohn, who makes up for it all when he enters, around seven minutes into the performance.  In the Forties, Cohn was identified not only as a Woody Herman’s alumnus, but as one of the Caucasian Lestorians — tenor players who memorized all of Lester’s performances and offered them forth in their own way.  Many of them apparently emulated Lester’s delicacy.  Here, Al’s playing has energy and sinew.  He’s onstage to say something important.  He doesn’t shout.  But his solo has an easy majestic urgency all its own , even though one thinks of Ben, Bird, Herschel, preaching about mellow tones.  All of this takes place in ninety seconds.  And when the group of somewhat jaded jazz titans hears what Al has to say, they wake up and launch a suitable riff.

That’s one aspect of Al Cohn — inspiring by his fervent example.

But even posthumously, Al is an inspiration.

That’s not an empty phrase, and it’s not limited to tenor saxophone players or to listeners with good music libraries (I am thinking of the Xanadu recording HEAVY LOVE, an imperishable duet of Al and Jimmy Rowles.)  Next to me as I write this post is the Fall 2008 issue of THE NOTE, the journal of the Al Cohn Memorial Collection at East Stroudsburg University of Pennsylvania.  (The collection’s website is www.esu.edu/alcohncollection, and their email address is alcohncollection@esu.edu.)

Their mission isn’t purely archival: they want to “stimulate, enrich, and support research, teaching, learning, and appreciation of all forms of jazz.”  One of the ways they have done this — for twenty years now — is by making the collection’s resources available “and useful to students, researchers, educators, musicians, historians, journalists and jazz enthusiasts of all kinds.”  Commendably, they preserve what they have already collected “for future generations.”  The collection includes records, books, photographs, oral histories, sheet music, art,memorabilia, and ephemera.  Although their definition of jazz is broad and inclusive, the collection focuses on Al Cohn and his many friends, chief among them Zoot Sims.  Other collections draw on the life and music of bassist Eddie Safranski, the rare acquisitions of the jazz scholar Coover Gazdar, and research materials about the history of jazz in the Pocono Mountains.

(As an aside, I sent the collection — some years back — a copy of a private tape where the noble participants were Al, Zoot, and Bucky Pizzarelli.  I have some candid jazz photographs that I’ve been saving for them, too.)

I started this second half by mentioning THE NOTE.  It’s no sentimental valentine to days-gone-by, nor is it a dry academic wafer.  Professionally done, it’s a pleasure to read.  The front cover of the current issue is a beautiful color photograph of David Leibman; the back cover a 1985 shot of Hank Jones by the always-surprising jazz photographer Herb Snitzer.  In this middle, rather like a jazz fan’s chaste version of a Playboy centerfold, is a two=page candid shot of Al and Jimmy Rowles in concert in Kansas City.  In the middle — a long hilarious screed of a column by Phil Woods, who writes as vigorously as he plays.  There are also brief comments from Bob Bush, the collection’s co-ordinator, “Thinking of Al” by Doug Ramsey, and an interview with Manny Albam done by Flo Cohn, Al’s wife, memories of jazz in Disney’s “Magic Village” by Jack SImpson, photos, letters, and hilarious anecdotes.

I can hear my readers murmuring, “How can I get a copy of THE NOTE for myself?”  Well, the journal is available free to those who ask to be placed on the mailing list.  But enterprises of this sort require some support — so a little contribution (if you don’t have a large one at hand) would be appreciated.  Email or send your best wishes and checks to

ACMJC – Kemp Library

East Stroudsburg University of Pennsylvania

200 Prospect Street

East Stroudsburg, PA 18301-2999

And if your basement is crammed with rare tapes, acetates, photos, or charts, call Bob Bush at 570-422-3828.