Tag Archives: Irving Berlin

SUNDAY NIGHTS AT 326 SPRING STREET (Part Thirty-Four) — WE NEED SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO: SESSIONS AT THE EAR INN, featuring THE EarRegulars (2007 – the Future)

Yes, it’s that time again! — although our secret is that any time is good to hear The EarRegulars.  A wintry Sunday night is what we have, though, and a metaphysical visit to The Ear Inn, 326 Spring Street, is a warming experience. Let’s drop in for the second part of a session from November 14, 2010, featuring Dan Block, clarinet and alto saxophone; Pete Martinez, clarinet; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Jon Burr, string bass — with a nice theme being (mostly) the music of Irving Berlin.  Tommy Dorsey and Bunny Berigan didn’t make it, but MARIE stands on its own without them:

Always welcome, some 1936 romantic optimism:

A different kind of romantic ardor, courtesy of Fats:

And a delightful visit from Tamar Korn, who sings LAZY RIVER:

Finally, a return to Berlin with Tamar’s THE SONG IS ENDED:

See you next week.  Keep the music playing: when it’s most dark, it sustains us.

May your happiness increase!

SUNDAY NIGHTS AT 326 SPRING STREET (Part Thirty-Three) — WE NEED SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO: SESSIONS AT THE EAR INN, featuring THE EarRegulars (2007 – the Future)

It’s Sunday!  Grab your mask, your hat, your coat — no, wait, just make yourself comfortable as we go downtown to the Seat of Pleasure, 326 Spring Street, for a wonderful session with the EarRegulars — who were, on November 14, 2010, Dan Block, clarinet and tenor saxophone; Pete Martinez, clarinet; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Jon Burr, string bass.

Three little words — could they be THE EAR INN?

Poor Buddy — we now know more about why he was Blue:

Beauty and song: it must be Irving Berlin:

And Israel Baline returns to his roots:

and the conclusion:

Be cautious and loving, and we’ll live through this to be together again.

May your happiness increase!

THE MUSIC OF IRVING BERLIN: REBECCA KILGORE and JAMES DAPOGNY (Jazz at Chautauqua, September 29, 2006: audio only)

Simple math: seven memorable songs, two deeply intuitive improvisers, one jazz criminal with a hidden recorder = lasting magic.

I’d like to explain how this all came to pass, but if you’d like to skip down to the music and (perhaps) read this later, I won’t blame you.  That music is slightly under a half-hour of quiet splendor, casual mastery, great mutual warmth.  And it’s just what the title says: an audio recording of two of my heroes, Rebecca Kilgore and James Dapogny, in duet, performing Irving Berlin songs at the 2006 Jazz at Chautauqua.  I emphasize audio recording, although there is a still photograph of the Professor to please the eye, but this was before I had the courage to bring a camera to as many gigs as the law allowed.

James Dapogny at Jazz at Chautauqua, Sept. 2014. Photograph by Michael Steinman.

Like Paul Muni, I confess to criminal acts.  But you are being rewarded, I hope, by my illicit behavior.

I first came to Jazz at Chautauqua in September 2004, my gift to myself for no longer being legally connected to a woman who disliked jazz (yes, I ask myself that same question now).  The party’s founder, Joe Boughton, had been friendly to me for a number of years and had been eager for me to come, to write about and publicize his weekend.

Ordinarily, I would have brought a recorder, but I knew that Joe was possessive about “his” music and very fierce about transgressions.  However, by 2006, I’d gotten bolder, and was pained by all the music vanishing into the air, so I took my new Sony digital recorder, slightly longer than a pack of cigarettes, with me.

Chautauqua is a ninety-minute car ride from the Buffalo airport, and a seven-hour drive from where I live (at least) so I did not want to make it evident that it was recording what was, in some ways, Joe’s private party to which we were invited.  I concealed the recorder in an outer pocket of my sportscoat, which will account for noise you hear as I moved slightly.  Those offended by the noise can say to themselves, “Sit still, Michael!” if it is any consolation.  There is crowd noise; someone says “Excuse me, Michael,” while stepping over me.

And then some of the most beautiful music I know begins.  I was seated closer to the piano than to Becky, so initially you might hear an imbalance of volume, but your ears adapt quickly — and Jim is playing so marvelously.

The songs are ALEXANDER’S RAGTIME BAND / SHAKING THE BLUES AWAY / REACHING FOR THE MOON / ISN’T THIS A LOVELY DAY? / CHEEK TO CHEEK / COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS / IT’S A LOVELY DAY TODAY.  They cover an astonishing range of emotions, from sorrow to elation to hymnlike serenity.  And in case anyone has forgotten, every note and word is Berlin’s.

Please, enjoy this offering — blessings from Becky, Jim, and Irving:

Incidentally, this would have remained on a homemade compact disc if my Texas collector-friend Elbie, whom I told about this, hadn’t said, “Can’t you transfer audio to video?” and I found, to my surprise, that I could.  There will be many more “audio only” delights and surprises.

I didn’t sing or play a note.  But I am proud of my part in making this music permanent and accessible.  I hope you will allow me that.

May your happiness increase!

SUNDAY NIGHTS AT 326 SPRING STREET (Part Thirty-Two) — WE NEED SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO: SESSIONS AT THE EAR INN, featuring THE EarRegulars (2007 – the Future)

I looked in the kitchen cupboard where the Fanciful Prose is kept, and I’m nearly all out — so all I will write is that I hope you join me on our Sunday journey through time and space to that Oasis of Good Sounds and Good Friends, The Ear Inn at 326 Spring Street.  Let us visit with the EarRegulars, that noble group of superheroes who pretend to be mortals with ordinary powers — an illusion that drops when they begin to make music.

Come with me to November 7, 2010, for some quartet magic from Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet, Alex Hoffman, tenor saxophone, Matt Munisteri, guitar; Neal Miner, string bass.

Memory and cognition are wonderful things, thus, I THOUGHT ABOUT YOU:

That’s not a cane!  It’s MY WALKING STICK, thanks to Irving and Louis:

And the ballad that Frank Chace so loved, UNDER A BLANKET OF BLUE:

Let’s have some peaceful Sundays, shall we, where we can gather in loving friendship.  Someday, face to face and hand in hand — but until that’s possible, let us pretend that it is, in front of our lit screens.

May your happiness increase!

NOT ONLY FOR VALENTINE’S DAY (Part One): “THE GREAT LOVE SONGS, REQUESTED,” by YAALA BALLIN and MICHAEL KANAN (St. John’s in the Village, New York City, February 14, 2020).

Music to love by.

Here are four performances from a delightful concert by Yaala Ballin, vocal; Michael Kanan, piano — at St. John’s in the Village, a welcoming Episcopal church on West 11th Street in Greenwich Village, New York. Valentine’s Day 2020 was a perfect reason for the charming event that Yaala and Michael have perfected, where audience members were given a list of classic songs and asked to pick two they especially wanted to hear . . . then, in true quiz show fashion, Yaala reached into the basket of paper slips, drew one out, showed the name to Michael, and that was the next number. Joyous and alive.

Yaala and Michael love and respect the melodies and the emotions that animate the songs, and they are also playful explorers: with the secure magic carpet of Michael’s accompaniment, Yaala can stretch the line, deliver some words in speech, offer suspenseful pauses: in effect, build new houses on familiar ground.  Michael continues to be heartfelt, swinging, and sly — within the space of an eight-bar bridge — his solos translucent marvels where melody and variations float as if skywritten.

From OKLAHOMA, Rodgers and Hammerstein’s PEOPLE WILL SAY WE’RE IN LOVE, with lyrics that never fail to charm me:

Irving Berlin’s THEY SAY IT’S WONDERFUL, from ANNIE GET YOUR GUN:

The Gershwin perennial, OUR LOVE IS HERE TO STAY:

and  AT LAST, by Harry Warren and Mack Gordon (the wedding song — who knew?) with touches of HEART AND SOUL, appropriately:

“A thrill to press my cheek to.”

There are more performances from this rare concert to come.

May your happiness increase!

WHEN THE FENCES HAVE BEEN TAKEN DOWN: “I’LL BE SEEING YOU: THREE WAY STRETCH” (Malcolm Earle Smith, Dave Wickins, Liam Noble)

Years ago, jazz seemed like a lovely meadow, stretching in all directions, that critics and journalists (I don’t need to name the squabbling troublemakers) had divided into little paddocks, each with its own electrified fence.  So if Fats Navarro and Jimmy Knepper wanted to talk mouthpieces with Shorty Baker and Vic Dickenson, they knew not to venture too far for fear of getting punished.  (Patrick McGoohan, “Number Six,” will do as an encapsulation.)

Much of this silliness has died down in print, but it remains lively among the fan bases, those who look skeptically at “that old stuff” or criticize a slightly streamlined performance as “too swingy.”  The electrified fences still proliferate in Facebook’s exclusionary groups, but you’re on your own there.

I say this because I have just listened to a wonderful new CD, with six selections.  The composers: Ornette Coleman, Irving Berlin, Victor Schertzinger / Johnny Mercer, Charles Mingus, Eddie Harris, Sammy Fain / Irving Kahal.  The songs: RAMBLIN’ / ALEXANDER’S RAGTIME BAND / I REMEMBER YOU / DUKE ELLINGTON’S SOUND OF LOVE / FREEDOM JAZZ DANCE / I’LL BE SEEING YOU.  Consider the beautiful expansiveness of that list for a moment: imagine a windowsill of wildly different plants — cherry tomato, orchid, succulents — all given space to grow and flourish.

This wholly rewarding CD is I’LL BE SEEING YOU, by “THREE WAY STRETCH,” Malcolm Earle Smith, trombone, vocal, effects; Liam Noble, piano; Dave Wickins, drums.  The band’s “cover photo” is a study in itself, and says something about the whimsical powers at work, with Malcolm, Liam, and Dave, from the left:


A few words from the band:

Recorded in November 2018, this album documents a joyful afternoon of music making. Sadly, this was to be drummer Dave Wickins’s last recording. This album is dedicated to Dave, a unique artist and special human being. His passion, humour, and love for the whole tradition of jazz drumming can be heard in these six tracks.

The album artwork, which celebrates Dave’s life and music, is best appreciated by buying the CD, but is also available as a PDF for all digital purchases.

In memory of Dave, we are contributing some of the funds from sales to Prostate Cancer UK. If you would like to contribute a little extra to this charity please consider the ‘pay more’ option above. Or, if you prefer, you can donate directly here: davewickins.muchloved.com.

Here‘s the Bandcamp link to hear more and, I hope, to purchase.

About the music.  I am sent CDs still with some frequency, and I try to listen to at least a few minutes of each; some of them, even with high-powered personnels, make me think, “Well, I am supposed to like this, even though I don’t.  Can I give it another ten minutes?”  And sometimes I can.  But there are others — whose names might not be quite so familiar — that feel both ingenious and comfortable at the same time.  My first reaction to THREE WAY STRETCH was “Wow!” and then, “This is really splendid.”  Its looseness and true improvisation captivated me, and at times I laughed aloud to hear what sport these three ingenious gentlemen had just created.

I should state here that this is a trio recording rather than the standard ensemble theme statement – solos – e.t.s. format.  At times it is a somber dance, a street parade, a musical Frisbee game in the park.  Each of these musicians is masterful not only in imagination but in execution, but at times I thought I was listening to a game rather than a recording session.  It is the music that is made before the audience has arrived or after they have gone.

And the playfulness goes hand-in-hand with deep feeling: quietly impassioned readings of SOUND OF LOVE and I’LL BE SEEING YOU; the puckishness of ALEXANDER’S; the irresistible swing of RAMBLIN’.  (By the way, Malcolm is not only a wonderful trombonist but a surprising and emotive singer.)  Each performance is its own playlet, and the CD feels like an immensely satisfying full-course meal of wonderfully flavored dishes: filling but not overwhelming.  It seems impudent to dissect the trio into its component human parts, since the synergy at work here is rich and honest, but the disc makes me regret that I never saw Dave, Liam, and Malcolm in performance: somewhere between the best improvisatory dramatic troupe and a tap-dance jam session.

No cutting contest, but the sounds of three musicians who love the melody and deep swing, who love the music and the places it can go, and who clearly love and respect each other. . . . and who are having the time of their lives in musical conversation.

At times it sounds as if three masters of comic timing are telling jokes; at times Malcolm, Liam, and Dave compose overlapping soliloquies; at times it’s the wind in the reeds, the branches gently tapping the house, the songs of morning birds.

A truly splendid recording, full of life-energies.  Investigate for yourself.

May your happiness increase!

SUNDAY NIGHTS AT 326 SPRING STREET (Part Ten) — WE NEED SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO: SESSIONS AT THE EAR INN, featuring THE EarRegulars (2007 – the Future)

Ear ye!  Ear ye! 

You’ll notice that this photograph depicts a different young woman, listening intently.  My first model enjoyed the music but complained that her elbow was sore because of keeping that pose for nine weeks and she had to see her acupuncturist.  But she’s covered by the JAZZ LIVES health insurance plan, and she’ll be back soon.

And here is the doorway through which you can immerse yourself in the previous nine postings.

History: The Ear Inn in 1940, thanks to Kathy Barbieri:

Back to NOW, or the reachable past.

Being at The Ear Inn on a Sunday night is a kind of national holiday, although the calendar-makers haven’t gotten the idea yet.  But once in many Sundays it coincides with another holiday — in April 2010, it was also Easter Sunday, and the gallant celebrants took notice of this, musically.  They are Matt Munisteri, guitar; Pete Martinez, clarinet; Charlie Caranicas, trumpet; Pat O’Leary, string bass; Andy Farber, tenor saxophone, joins in for the closing number.  You’ll notice an affectionate bunny-and-[Irving] Berlin concentration of joyous energies.

I’M PUTTING ALL MY EGGS IN ONE BASKET:

EASTER PARADE, of course:

RUSSIAN LULLABY, also for Mr. Baline:

Matt invited Ellington’s little bunny to stop in for a salad:

See you next Sunday!  And someday I hope to say those words with “at 326 Spring Street” attached.

May your happiness increase!

THE WEATHER FORECAST: 100% CHANCE OF SWING –BRIAN HOLLAND, DANNY COOTS, STEVE PIKAL, MARC CAPARONE, JACOB ZIMMERMAN, RILEY BAKER (Jazz Bash by the Bay, March 7, 2020)

To me, music like this doesn’t require much explication, and to begin to label and analyze it (in the style of Gunther Schuller) would be an insult.  Here are six of my friend-heroes — guest Riley Baker, trombone; Marc Caparone, cornet; Jacob Zimmerman, alto saxophone and clarinet; Brian Holland, piano; Danny Coots, drums; the very amused Steve Pikal, string bass — improvising on an Irving Berlin classic, BLUE SKIES.  (The place?  Jazz Bash by the Bay, Monterey, California.  The time?  Before the world changed.)

But notice how much respect these jazz improvisers — who, in this century, are supposed to be enthralled by harmonic density and innovation — give to Berlin’s melody, even as they are turning phrases this way and that.  Hear how six instrumentalists, by eschewing the ensemble-solos-ensemble format, create an ever-shifting small orchestra, full of variations of texture . . . so that the performance is fulfilling rather than formulaic.

Listen, watch, and delight:

They really know how to do it.  And “we’ll be together again.”  I guarantee it, to quote the late Justin Wilson, king of the properly-made roux.

May your happiness increase!

TWO HOT DANCES and AN IMPROVISED MEDITATION: the HOLLAND-COOTS JAZZ QUINTET at the EVERGREEN JAZZ FESTIVAL: BRIAN HOLLAND, DANNY COOTS, STEVE PIKAL, JOHN OTTO, MARC CAPARONE (July 28-29, 2019)

Double rainbow, Evergreen, Colorado, 2014. Photograph by Michael Steinman

Here is some wonderful music from one of my favorite bands, the Holland-Coots Jazz Quintet, appearing at the Evergreen Jazz Festival (that’s Evergreen, Colorado) in July 2019.  For this weekend, the quintet was Brian Holland, piano; Danny Coots, drums; Marc Caparone, cornet; John Otto, clarinet and alto saxophone; Steve Pikal, string bass.

I might be paraphrasing Yogi Berra, but this piece of music is so famous that no one every plays it anymore.  I’m referring to the 1923 CHARLESTON, words and music by Cecil Mack and Jimmy Johnson, as noted below:

In my childhood, when several television shows purported to reproduce the ambiance and music of “The Roaring Twenties,” one by that title starring Dorothy Provine, CHARLESTON was played and sung often.  But now, I can’t remember the last time I heard a jazz band play or sing it.  (Note: I know there are wonderful recordings, and as I write this, the Original Boulevardiers of Bucharest are driving audiences wild with their rendition, but you don’t need to write in.)  Here’s the HCJQ’s frisky version:

and a cool tender IMPROVISATION on a theme recorded but not composed by Fats Waller — the performers are John Otto and Steve Pikal:

Another HOT DANCE (as it would say on the record label), KRAZY KAPERS, perhaps harking back to the comic strip? — variations on the theme of DIGA DIGA DOO:

This band knocks me out, song after song.  I saw them most recently at the Jazz Bash by the Bay . . . and you will get to see and hear them also, more . . . .

May your happiness increase!

“SAY THAT EVERYTHING IS STILL OKAY”: REBECCA KILGORE, HARRY ALLEN, BOB HAVENS, FRANK TATE, JOHN SHERIDAN (Jazz at Chautauqua, September 20, 2012)

I have little to complain about in tangible things, but today’s mood is such that this meme (courtesy of dear friend Amy King) provoked rueful laughter and recognition:

Those of you who don’t know what a “meme” is can dial one of the grandkids.  “Kinky,” you’re on your own.

Today I thought that cheerful hot music would be out of place, so here is a beautifully rueful creation.

The superficial portrait of Irving Berlin is that he wrote cheerful music, with exceptions like WHAT’LL I DO? and REMEMBER.  But he is also powerfully poignant about romance that has deflated or perished, as in SAY IT ISN’T SO — its title characteristically taken from a popular conversational phrase.  But when Becky Kilgore and her lightly swinging friends approach it, the sadness is balanced against the gentle motion of the beat, everyone’s personal phrasing.  Her friends are Harry Allen, tenor saxophone; Bob Havens, trombone; John Sheridan, piano; Frank Tate, string bass.

This performance magically unfolded in front of us (and my camera) on Thursday night, September 20, 2012, at the informal session that began Jazz at Chautauqua at the Hotel Athenaeum.  Fabled times, lovely music.

May your happiness increase!

AT THE END OF THE ROAD, A WARM EMBRACE: DAWN LAMBETH, MARC CAPARONE, DAN WALTON, JAMEY CUMMINS, STEVE PIKAL (Redwood Coast Music Festival, May 11, 2019)

This post is full of emotion for me, and I hope for some of you: not just the music but the reality under the music, the world in which we now read and hear and attempt to proceed.

I offer you two lovely performances of songs by Irving Berlin and by George and Ira Gershwin, by Dawn Lambeth, vocal; Marc Caparone, cornet; Dan Walton, piano; Jamey Cummins, guitar; Steve Pikal, string bass — created for us at the Redwood Coast Music Festival in Eureka, California, on May 11, 2019.

The beginning of this story is the last live jazz I saw — at Cafe Bohemia in New York City, celebrated elsewhere on this blog — on March 12, 2020.  And even then people were [wisely, politely, perhaps tactfully] recoiling from one another, because who knew that your dear friend didn’t carry a double helping of death?

A few nights earlier, people were giving each other elbow bumps in lieu of closer contact, and when I, without thinking, shook the hand of a new acquaintance, we both looked at each other in embarrassment and shock, and we both muttered apologies, as if we’d taken an unseemly liberty.  I know all this is prudent and exceedingly necessary — more so than choosing to wash the apple one buys at the farmers’ market before devouring it.  But it adds to the despair.

It’s now almost June, and we greet each other as if we were grenades — and with reason.  I know I am not alone in feeling the deadly deprivation of human contact (I have been hugging people — those I know and who would not back away — for perhaps a decade now, because it seems a natural loving expression) and the emotional aridity that distance imposes.  Grinning and waving is an incomplete substitute.  Hugging oneself just ain’t the same thing.  You know this.

Because there is no live music for me to drink in and to video-record, I have been delving into my YouTube archives, which go back to 2006, in search of satisfying performances that the artists will allow to be shared.  It is easier, of course, for me to pretend I am at the Ear Inn by watching a video than to pretend that I am hugging and being hugged, but it, too, is only a small palliative.

My searching, thankfully, has borne fruit, and I have found a goodly number from the Redwood Coast Music Festival, which — on my 2019 visit — seemed the perfection of the art form.  It did not happen in 2020, but those of us who feel such things deeply pray that it will in May 2021.

In the set called featuring Dawn Lambeth and her Quartet, Dawn and the wonderful people I’ve mentioned above performed two songs that are poignant in themselves, but in connection almost unbearably so for what they hold out to us as possibilities unreachable at the moment.

The first is Berlin’s WAITING AT THE END OF THE ROAD, which tells that that there will be “Peace and contentment at the end of the road”; given this tender reading, it’s hard to interpret this song as anything but hopeful, even though the road is longer and darker than perhaps even Berlin imagined:

Three songs later in the set, Marc chose as his feature EMBRACEABLE YOU — thinking, as one would, of Bobby Hackett:

The combination of the two songs is somber and lovely all at once.

I dare not waste energy on discussing what “the new normal” will look like: rather, my wish is that all of us live to see and experience it.  But I do dream that  the end of the road we are now on will have a plenitude of embraces given and received.  We will never again, I hope, take such things for granted.

Thanks to the musicians here and to the people who make the Redwood Coast Music Festival possible and glorious, and of course heartfelt thanks to Mark and Valerie Jansen.  Let this post stand as an IOU for future grateful embraces.

May your happiness increase!

AN HOUR OF JOY WITH EDDIE ERICKSON and FRIENDS at the JAZZ BASH BY THE BAY: DANNY TOBIAS, KATIE CAVERA, GARY RYAN, JERRY KRAHN (March 6, 2020)

In one of those curious episodes of dislocation we all take for granted (read Philip K. Dick’s “The Eyes Have It”) my ears met Eddie Erickson long before the rest of me caught up.  Perhaps I first heard him on recordings with Dan Barrett, Rebecca Kilgore, Melissa Collard?  I know we met in Germany in 2007 for one of Manfred Selchow’s concert weekends, and a few years later, in California.  More to the point: I saw him, to my great delight, at the Jazz Bash by the Bay in March of this year.

Those who know Eddie only superficially categorize him as a dazzling vaudevillian — someone who, had he been born earlier, would have starred in Vitaphone short films and on Broadway — a natural comedian, a banjo virtuoso, a walking compendium of lovable entertainment.  I think of his performances of MY CANARY HAS CIRCLES UNDER HIE EYES and the dreadful honeymoon night of SIDE BY SIDE.  But he goes much deeper.  I celebrate the other Eddie: the swinging guitarist whose solos make sense, and, perhaps most of all, the very touching ballad singer.  And were you to visit my YouTube channel,  “swingyoucats”, you would find that I’ve been documenting Eddie’s multi-faceted self for nearly a decade now.

But that’s history of a very delightful kind, which I plan to add to right now.  What follows is a set of music performed on March 6, 2020, at the Jazz Bash by the Bay in Monterey, California, under the title “Eddie Erickson and Friends.”  Strictly speaking, that was inaccurate, because if all of Eddie’s friends had assembled at 7:39 in the Colton Room, all the other rooms would have been empty and the fire marshals would have been called.  So it was “and Friends who are Expert Musicians,” which meant Jerry Krahn, guitar; Katie Cavera, string bass and vocal; Danny Tobias, trumpet and Eb alto horn; Gary Ryan, banjo and vocal; Kathy Becker, attendant to the Emperor.

Two details to point out before you dive in.  Ordinarily, I would edit the pre-song conversation and getting-ready more seriously, but in Eddie’s case, his asides are precious, so what you have here is as close to the full hour as my camera would allow.  (I lost a few notes of ALWAYS, but you can imagine what was left out.)  And ordinarily I would not post ten performances at one time, but I envision people — needing more joy and uplift right now — setting aside an hour to visit with Eddie, to savor the joy they might not have been able to have when it was happening.  So . . . stop multi-tasking and enjoy, please.

After an introduction that hints at ZONKY, Eddie heads into BLUE SKIES:

What would a jazz festival be without a belated coronation?

Gary Ryan keeps working at it, in honor of the National Pastime:

When skies are cloudy and gray . . . we can always think of Eddie:

Katie Cavera’s saucy feature, I BET YOU TELL THAT TO ALL THE GIRLS:

Louis, 1947 — SOMEDAY YOU’LL BE SORRY:

Jerry Krahn’s pretty IF I HAD YOU:

A banjo Ecstasy for Messrs. Erickson and Ryan, THE WORLD IS WAITING FOR THE SUNRISE, with a little Prokofiev at the start and some NOLA:

Something to change the mood, Danny Tobias’ ST. JAMES INFIRMARY:

Eddie’s heartfelt version of Berlin’s ALWAYS:

And a closing romp on Hoagy’s JUBILEE:

What a treasure Eddie is!

May your happiness increase!

FIVE BY FIVE (Part Two): JOE PLOWMAN and his PHILADELPHIANS at the 1867 SANCTUARY: JOE PLOWMAN, DANNY TOBIAS, JOE McDONOUGH, SILAS IRVINE, DAVE SANDERS (February 8, 2020)

This is the second half of a wonderful afternoon concert that took place at the 1867 Sanctuary in Ewing, New Jersey — Joe Plowman and his Philadelphians, featuring Joe on string bass; Danny Tobias on trumpet, flugelhorn, and Eb alto horn; Joe McDonough on trombone; Silas Irvine on piano; Dave Sanders on guitar.

You can enjoy the first half here — the songs performed are COTTON TAIL, WHO CARES?, JUST ONE OF THOSE THINGS, SUNNY SIDE OF THE STREET, and THE SONG IS ENDED.

And below you can hear and see performances of MY FUNNY VALENTINE, WHY DO I LOVE YOU?, THE FRUIT, WHAT’LL I DO?, and I NEVER KNEW.

When everything is once again calm, you might make a trip to the Sanctuary (101 Scotch Road in Ewing) for their multi-musical concert series: it is a lovely place.  But the vibrations in that room were particularly lovely on February 8, 2020.

Since it was less than a week before Valentine’s Day, Richard Rodgers’ MY FUNNY VALENTINE was not only appropriate but imperative: Danny offered it (with the seldom-played verse) on flugelhorn:

Jerome Kern’s WHY DO I LOVE YOU? — following the amorous thread — was another feature for the melodic Joe McDonough  — with beautiful support from Messrs. Sanders and Irvine in addition to the leader:

Joe (Plowman, that is) explored Bud Powell’s twisting THE FRUIT with Silas right alongside him at every turn:

Irving Berlin’s mournful elegy, WHAT’LL I DO? reassembled the quintet:

And a final jam on I NEVER KNEW — a song musicians have loved to play since the early Thirties — closed the program:

Beautiful, inspiring music: thanks to this quintet and Bob and Helen Kull of the     1867 Sanctuary.

May your happiness increase!

THE MELODIES LINGER ON (Part One): JOE WILDER, HARRY ALLEN, ROSSANO SPORTIELLO, JON BURR (Jazz at Chautauqua, September 17, 2009)

I could introduce this post in several ways: a reference to Irving Berlin’s THE SONG  IS ENDED in my title, a memory of Faulkner’s character Gavin Stevens, “The past isn’t dead; it’s not even past,” or perhaps Shelley:

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory—

All true.  But I’d prefer to start with the mundane before presenting magical vibrating sounds.  I have spent more than a month in the emotion-charged task of tidying my apartment.  No sandwiches under the bed — in my world, food gets eaten — or inches of dust, since I do know how to use standard cleaning tools (even when I neglect to).  It is more a matter of sifting through things that had been put into piles “for when I have time,” which I now do.  And I was rewarded by objects I once thought lost coming back to me of their own accord.

One such delight is an assortment of videos, created but now often forgotten, that I had shot at Jazz at Chautauqua: I’ve shared some of them already: fourteen such postings since February 2018: search for “Chautauqua” and they will jump into your lap.

But here are three “new” previously unseen masterpieces from the informal Thursday-night session at Chautauqua — by a quartet of subtle wizards of melody, Harry Allen, tenor saxophone; Rossano Sportiello, piano; Jon Burr, string bass.  And Joe Wilder, not the young hero of the Fifties but — if possible — more subtle, more deep, more able to touch our hearts.

The videos aren’t perfect.  The piano could have been tuned more recently.  Heads are in the way, some famous, and the image I achieved with that camera is not perfectly sharp.  DON’T BLAME ME ends abruptly and incompletely — my fault.  But I marvel at the music and hope you will also.

‘DEED I DO, where Joe leaps in exuberantly:

JUST SQUEEZE ME:

I am saving the closing two performances from this session for another post: it would not be right to choke you with an excess of beauty all at once.  And when I think about the blessings of the second half of my life, I include the friendly respect of the musicians here — the gracious living trio and Joe.  When I think that Joe spoke to me, wrote to me, and laughed with me, my joy and awe are immense . . . but he extended the gift of his warm self to so many, I know I am not unique.

This post is sent as a gift to Solveig Wilder.  And it is dedicated to the memory of Ed Berger and Joe Boughton, each of whom made beauty possible.

May your happiness increase!

FIVE BY FIVE (Part One): JOE PLOWMAN and his PHILADELPHIANS at the 1867 SANCTUARY: JOE PLOWMAN, DANNY TOBIAS, JOE McDONOUGH, SILAS IRVINE, DAVE SANDERS (February 8, 2020)

Pay no attention to ENGER D OP OFF — they were last week’s band.

Here’s another in the series of intimate, swinging jazz concerts that take place at the 1867 Sanctuary on Scotch Road in Ewing, New Jersey: others have featured Phil Orr, Joe Holt, Danny Tobias, Warren Vache, Larry McKenna.

The most recent one was a showcase for string bass virtuoso Joe Plowman (friend of Larry McKenna and Marty Grosz, so that should tell you something about his authentic credentials — with Danny Tobias on various brass instruments, Joe McDonough, trombone; Silas Irvine, piano; Dave Sanders, guitar.  As you’ll hear immediately, these five friends specialize in lyrical melodic swing — going back to Irving Berlin classics — without a hint of the museum or the archives.  Their pleasure in making song was apparent all afternoon, and we shared it.  And just as a comment on the leader: notice how quiet the crowd is when he solos, maybe because he creates long arching melodic lines with a beautiful sound and wonderful intonation.

At times, I was reminded of a group I saw for half an hour at the old Michael’s Pub — the front line was Bobby Hackett and Urbie Green, and what delightful sounds they made. (The digressive story of that evening I offer below as a postscript.*)

Here are five highlights from the brilliant afternoon’s play.

Everyone’s “got rhythm” so why not Ellington’s COTTON TAIL?:

The Gershwins’ WHO CARES? — with a touch of Tobias-humor to start:

Porter’s JUST ONE OF THOSE THINGS:

ON THE SUNNY SIDE OF THE STREET, featuring expressive Mr. McDonough:

Berlin’s THE SONG IS ENDED, which announcement was premature, since there was another half-concert to follow:

You see why the trip to Ewing, New Jersey, to 100 Scotch Road, is essential to my well-being and that of the larger audience.

*Now for my self-indulgent story, which took place before either Joe was born.  I’ve never told it before and it is true.

Bobby Hackett was and is one of my greatest heroes, and when he appeared in New York City between 1971 and 1976, I tried to go see him.  However, I was a shy college student, working a part-time job that paid $1.85 / hour, so some gigs were beyond me.

Michael’s Pub was a restaurant-bar-with music on the East Side of Manhattan, in the Fifties, that offered excellent jazz in hostile surroundings.  (To be fair, I did not appear as a well-heeled customer to even the most inexperienced waiter.)  They had a bar where one could sit and have a single drink without being chased for perhaps thirty minutes, but the view of the music room was very limited.  When I learned of a Hackett-Urbie Green quintet gig, I gathered up the shreds of my courage, put on my sportsjacket and my Rooster tie, and went.

I think I made a reservation for two: that was my cunning at work.  I was guided to a table, a menu was thrust in my face, and I said, “I’m waiting for my date.  A vodka-tonic, please,” and the waiter went away, returning in seconds with my drink.  The music began and it was of course celestial.  I nursed my drink, ate the rolls in the bread basket one by one, and fended off the waiter, who was more insistent than any date I’d had up to that point.  Finally, somewhere in the first set, when the waiter had become nearly rude, I looked at my watch, and said grimly so that he could hear, “Damn.  She’s not coming.  I’ll take the check, please,” paid and left.

I can now say that I heard Bobby and Urbie, but the sad part is that I can’t remember a note because it was completely blotted out by the sense of being unwanted.  But, in a pinch, vodka-tonic, buttered rolls, and a divine soundtrack are nutritious enough.  And memory is soul food.

May your happiness increase!  

MORE BEAUTY, PLEASE: DANNY TOBIAS, PAT MERCURI, CHRIS BUZZELLI at the 1867 Sanctuary (Ewing, New Jersey: January 4, 2020)

When we left our heroes — Danny Tobias, trumpet and various brass instruments, Pat Mercuri and Chris Buzzelli, guitars — they were lifting our spirits by creating beautiful sounds at the 1867 Sanctuary in Ewing, New Jersey.  The evidence, easily accessed, is here in six lovely performances.

Now, I want JAZZ LIVES participants (you are more than simply “readers,” I hope) to chew slowly, to digest, to savor — even if I am not the waitperson who comes to your table, places the entree in front of you, and barks, “ENJOY!” — so I waited a short time before offering you the second half of this delightful concert. But here it is.

Berlin’s memorably sad WHAT’LL I DO?

  The most cheerful admonition, LADY BE GOOD (or OH, LADY BE GOOD):

Rodgers and Hart’s vision of sweet togetherness, BLUE ROOM:

And another from Dick and Larry, DANCING ON THE CEILING:

Finally, a threatening Rodgers and Hart opus (for t hose who know the lyrics) EV’RYTHING I’VE GOT:

Danny will be back at the 1867 Sanctuary on April 19 (at 2 PM) with the brilliant pianist Conal Fowkes and string bassist Doug Drewes: details here.  Thanks to these musicians and to Bob and Helen Kull — guardians of this wonderful space — for making this event possible.

May your happiness increase!

NEXT STOP, HEAVEN: MARA KAYE, JON-ERIK KELLSO, EVAN ARNTZEN, JARED ENGEL (Cafe Bohemia, October 24, 2019)

Mara Kaye, having herself a time.

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.

May your happiness increase!

MELLOW TONES: DANNY TOBIAS, PAT MERCURI, CHRIS BUZZELLI (1867 Sanctuary, January 4, 2020)

On January 4, 2020, Danny Tobias (trumpet, flugelhorn, Eb alto horn), Pat Mercuri, and Chris Buzzelli (guitars) assembled at the 1867 Sanctuary, 1o1 Scotch Road, Ewing, New Jersey, for a wonderfully mellow session of music.  What they created, reminiscent of the Braff-Barnes Quartet, requires no complicated explication: it’s melodic and swinging, a splendidly egalitarian conversation among three masterful improvisers.  Pat’s on the viewer’s right in gray blazer; Chris has a maroon shirt.

Here’s the first half.

Arlen’s AS LONG AS I LIVE, a declaration of devotion:

CHEEK TO CHEEK, Berlin’s description of bliss in motion:

Van Heusen’s POLKA DOTS AND MOONBEAMS (and I still like Johnny Burke’s lyrics, unheard here, although some poke fun at the “pug-nosed dream”):

Ray Noble’s steadfast assertion, THERE IS NO GREATER LOVE:

Sonatina for Two Guitars, Ellington’s IN A MELLOTONE:

Gershwin’s yearning SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME, featuring Danny on his third or fourth brass instrument, the Eb alto horn:

If you missed this concert, you have a chance to restore and redeem yourself: on February 8, 2020, Joe Plowman and his Philadelphians will be playing: that’s Joe on string bass and perhaps arrangements / compositions; Danny Tobias; Joe McDonough, trombone; Silas Irvine, piano; Dave Sanders, guitar.  Details here. Why miss out?

May your happiness increase!

MUSIC FOR FEBRUARY FOURTEENTH! –YAALA BALLIN and MICHAEL KANAN PERFORM LOVE SONGS FOR US

This post, Janus-like, looks forward and backward.

Forward?  I want to alert you to a Valentine’s Day love-offering that’s special, a way to be bathed in the sounds of love.  Yaala Ballin, voice, and Michael Kanan, piano, will present songs of love on February 14, 7-9 PM, at St. John’s in the Village (Eleventh Street) with tickets a very loving $10.

It’s a gently interactive event as well.  No, not a sing-along.  But when ticket-buyers enter, they will be handed a list of perhaps fifty songs, classic ones, given a slip of paper and asked to mark down the titles or numbers of two songs they would like to hear.  And these little papers, selected at random, will be the music performed that evening.  I’ve seen this in action (more about that below) and it’s fun.  Details — if you need more — are here, and you can buy tickets through Eventbrite or take your chances that this won’t be sold out (which would be unromantic for you and your Ideal, wouldn’t it?).

Backward?  Yaala and Michael have already performed “the Great American Songbook, Requested,” at St. John’s in the Village last October, and I captured their performances here.  In December, they took their little show — sweet and impish — to Mezzrow, and here  are some delights from that evening.  I have left in Yaala’s inspired introductions because they are so very charming.

Yaala Ballin and Michael Kanan at Mezzrow, Dec.11, 2019, by Naama Gheber.

IT’S ALL RIGHT WITH ME:

MANHATTAN:

BUT NOT FOR ME:

SO IN LOVE:

CAN’T HELP LOVIN’ THAT MAN:

ALL THE THINGS YOU ARE:

IN A SENTIMENTAL MOOD:

LOOK FOR THE SILVER LINING (one of my requests that night):

BLUE SKIES:

I should point out that although both Yaala and Michael treat their material tenderly, they are improvisers, so I could not get tired of their explorations of these deep songs.  I will follow them “while breath lasts,” as a friend used to say.

Here are more auditory blossoms from Mezzrow.  Listen and be glad, and make plans for Valentine’s Day . . . in the name of love.  And if you don’t have a partner for that evening, buy a ticket as an act of self-love, an activity that many people scant themselves in.  And when I was at St. John’s for the October concert, I noticed some elegantly-dressed people by themselves . . . so who knows what could happen?  Be brave and join us.

May your happiness increase!

REBECCA KILGORE and ECHOES OF SWING: “WINTER DAYS at SCHLOSS ELMAU”

Before writing this post, I was thinking about Rebecca (or Becky or Roo — she has many names, as appropriate to a multi-faceted personality) someone I have been listening to with awe and pleasure since 1994, perhaps beginning with I SAW STARS (Arbors).  As for Echoes of Swing, I got to hear them in person in Germany (in 2007, thanks to Manfred Selchow) and could tell them how I admired them.  It’s one of my dreams to have musicians and groups of musicians I revere play together, and the new CD is just such a dream. . . . one that you and I can hear and re-hear.

The disc also affords us a chance to adjust our perspectives, to shake off some preconceptions.  Some listeners have perched Rebecca on a sunny windowsill in the country of Light, Bright, and Sparkling. Yes, she may prefer PICK YOURSELF UP to GLOOMY SUNDAY, but for me a little darkness will suffice.  Hear her on this disc as she sails through I’VE GOT MY LOVE TO KEEP ME WARM and her reputation as an antidote to darkness is intact.  But only shallow listeners will mistake optimism for shallowness: she has depths of feeling.

Echoes of Swing plus Two: Chris Hopkins, Bernd Lhotzky, Rolf Marx, Oliver Mewes, Henning Gailing, Colin T. Dawson. Photo by Katrin Horn.

Echoes of Swing has also been slightly mis-characterized, praised for their large orchestral sound (the core unit is four players, count them, four — even though on this CD they add a string bass and guitar as well as Rebecca) — as if they were somehow marvelous simply for this magic trick, and critics have heard them as successors to the John Kirby Sextet, which is both plausible and confining.  But on this CD, the players — whom I should name now: Bernd Lhotzky, piano and musical director; Colin T. Dawson, trumpet and flugelhorn; Chris Hopkins, alto saxophone; Oliver Mewes, drums, with Henning Gailing, string bass, and (on four tracks) Rolf Marx, guitar — create such rich varied sounds inside and outside of the arrangements by Bernd and Chris that I felt as if I’d wandered into a universe scored by, let us say, Gil Evans, spacious and resonant.

Other artists have created records and CDs devoted to Winter.  And many of those jolly efforts are avalanches of fake snow from the arts-and-crafts store.  Christmas music looms, no matter how many chairs might be wedged against the studio door, or there’s LET IT SNOW, the now-troublesome BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE, or WINTER WEATHER.  Sweet, certainly, but not always true to the reality of the season, for Winter is a time for introspection as the world becomes colder and darker.  This disc, I assure you, is not a descent into Seasonal Affective Disorder, and there are a few familiar cheery songs on it, but it is not the usual forgettable fluff.

Here’s a wonderful example, the text being the 1931 WINTER WONDERLAND, where the focused purity of Rebecca’s voice balances against a complex, shifting orchestral background:

Bernd’s quirkily cheerful setting of the most famous Robert Frost poem:

Rebecca’s own witty and sweet song:

You’ll have to explore the other surprises for yourself — songs I’d never heard by Frishberg, Berlin, and Jobim, and a few poems set to music by Bernd — performances that are remarkable on the first hearing and grow more so.

The disc is dense — which is not to say difficult or off-putting — but it has levels and levels of musical and emotional pleasure.  Some discs make wonderful background music — the soundtrack for rearranging one’s spice rack — but this one has the delicious resonance of one short story after another.  It’s available in all the old familiar places.  Details here. WINTER DAYS is ambitious, heartfelt, completely rewarding.  You won’t regret it, no matter what the temperature.

May your happiness increase!

“LOVE SAID ‘HELLO!'”: YAALA BALLIN and MICHAEL KANAN at MEZZROW (December 11, 2019)

Yaala Ballin and Michael Kanan at Mezzrow, by Naama Gheber.

My friends and musical heroes, Yaala Ballin and Michael Kanan, returned to Mezzrow on December 11, 2019, for another evening of glorious songs, selected by the audience, as Yaala explains in the second video.  They call this “show of surprises” “The Great American Songbook, Requested,” and it is a consistent offering of joys.

But first, the Gershwins’ LOVE WALKED IN:

and for those new to Yaala and Michael’s playful plan-and-not-plan for their evening, Yaala explains it all while Michael quietly explores I’VE GOT THE WORLD ON A STRING:

THE MAN I LOVE has been performed so often that when someone launches into it I feel a little world-weary, “Oh, not that again.”  But I find this version completely compelling and emotionally plausible.  It is their teamwork, Michael’s palette of colors and textures, Yaala’s playful but deep speech-cadences.  Their performance has emotional ardor but is never “dramatic” for the sake of drama:

On with the dance, the dance of affection shared– Berlin’s CHEEK TO CHEEK, so beautifully begun and continued.  But first, Yaala tells a tale:

STAIRWAY TO THE STARS, Matty Malneck and Frank Signorelli, full of hope.  Please savor Michael’s solo chorus, his light and shadows:

The Gershwins’ OUR LOVE IS HERE TO STAY:

and Ellington’s I LET A SONG GO OUT OF MY HEART:

This is only the first part of a completely satisfying evening — with fourteen more songs delicately and ardently reinvented for us.  If you missed this December tasting menu, don’t despair: Yaala and Michael will be performing again for Valentine’s Day at St. John’s in the Village on Eleventh Street: details to come.

May your happiness increase!

“SPIRITUAL REFRESHMENT = LIVE MUSIC” (Part Two): YAALA BALLIN and MICHAEL KANAN, “The Great American Songbook, Requested” (St. John’s in the Village, New York City, October 19, 2019)

Yes, these two magicians: Yaala Ballin, singing; Michael Kanan, playing.

About four weeks ago, they did their subtle transformations here:

They made music blossom.  The sign is perfectly apt.

Never let it be said that JAZZ LIVES omits any relevant detail:

And here‘s the first part, the songs being I COULD WRITE A BOOK; SO IN LOVE; EASY TO LOVE; THE WAY YOU LOOK TONIGHT; BEWITCHED, BOTHERED, AND BEWILDERED; HOW DEEP IS THE OCEAN?

And if that weren’t enough, here is the second part.

S’WONDERFUL:

IN A SENTIMENTAL MOOD:

I LOVE PARIS:

IT’S ALL RIGHT WITH ME:

MANHATTAN:

I’LL BE AROUND:

CHEEK TO CHEEK:

It was delightful to be there, which my videos may not convey wholly.  But if you missed it, and I am sure some New York readers did, be glad: Michael and Yaala will be doing another box-of-surprises program at Mezzrow on December 11 of this year.  Details here.

Yaala told us, during the concert, that she, Michael, Ari Roland, and Chris Flory are recording a CD devoted to her near-namesake, Israel Baline, whom we know as Irving Berlin.  That will be a treat — but do come out for the music as it is performed in real time, in front of people who appreciate it.

May your happiness increase!