Tag Archives: Louis Armstrong Centennial Band

THE LOUIS ARMSTRONG ETERNITY BAND at BIRDLAND (Dec. 11, 2013) PART ONE

David Ostwald takes Louis Armstrong very seriously — not only as a philosophical model, but as a musical beacon.  That’s why he’s created and led a small hot jazz group devoted to Louis and the music he loved — now called the Louis Armstrong Eternity Band — that has had a regular Wednesday gig at Birdland for fourteen years.

But sometimes honoring Louis takes David off the bandstand.  On December 11, he stopped in at Birdland to say hello to everyone before heading to the Louis Armstrong House Museum gala which was honoring Quincy Jones and Dan Morgenstern.  But David wanted to make sure that the music at Birdland would be right on target, so he asked his friend and ours, Brian Nalepka, to lead the band.

Brian brought his string bass and sang on a few songs, and had the best assistance from Danny Tobias, cornet; Tom Artin, trombone; Pete Martinez, clarinet; Vinny Raniolo, banjo; Kevin Dorn, drums. Here’s the first half of that delightful concert for Louis.

SLEEPY TIME DOWN SOUTH / INDIANA:

OH, DIDN’T HE RAMBLE:

STAR DUST:

HONEYSUCKLE ROSE:

BODY AND SOUL (featuring Pete Martinez, King of Tones):

I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH ME:

Many first-class songs associated with that Armstrong fellow, and what a band!

May your happiness increase!

CELEBRATE DAN MORGENSTERN’S 83rd BIRTHDAY AT BIRDLAND (Wednesday, October 24, 2012)

I know some people think birthday celebrations are silly.  The cake isn’t good for us; HAPPY BIRTHDAY is only eight bars long and most musicians feel trapped when it’s requested.  And some of us feel, “Gee, I’m too old for a paper hat and . . . where will they put all those candles?”

But I think that birthdays are a good thing.  The Beloved had one recently, and it was very sweet.  And — after all — isn’t it just our way of saying, “We are SO glad you are here?”  Who could argue with those sentiments?

So I want to let everyone know that this coming Wednesday, David Ostwald and the Louis Armstrong Centennial Band will be celebrating Dan Morgenstern’s eighty-third birthday in the best way . . . by playing hot jazz for him at Birdland from 5:30 to 7:15 PM.  

The participants?  Bria Skonberg, trumpet (and no doubt vocals); Dan Block, clarinet and alto sax; Jim Fryer, trombone (ditto the above); James Chirillo, banjo; David Ostwald, tuba and commentary; Marion Felder, drums.  And I’ll bet a blue-label sunburst Decca of THANKS A MILLION that there will be other musicians in the house who want to make their love for Dan public and resonant.

If you have to ask who Dan Morgenstern is, I don’t think you’ve been taking careful notes: scholar, lover of all sorts of good music, archivist, writer . . . and friend of the best.  His liner notes educated so many of us and pointed us in the right directions, and he keeps on keeping on.

Birdland is at 315 West 44th Street and my guess is that the room will be full — so call 212.581.3080 to make sure there’s a place for you.  

I can’t be there (I will be at Kennedy Airport, boarding the plane to Newcastle, UK, for the Whitley Bay Classic Jazz Party — Marcia Salter will stand in for me!) but perhaps one or two of my readers could come up to Dan and say, “JAZZ LIVES sent me.”  That would be a great treat.  (Or, if you don’t like that one, just tell him, “I found out about Hot Lips Page because of you.”)

And — what’s a birthday without a present?  Spare Dan the socks or the cufflinks.  Just send him our love.  And this:

May your happiness increase.

CELEBRATE LOUIS, the EARREGULARS, GEORGE, and YOU! (June 2012)

There are always reasons to celebrate, but the news is more brightly-hued these days.

The Partners in Preservation grant contest advisory committee awarded the Louis Armstrong House Museum $150,000 — funds that will be used to preserve Louis’s Garden. Your votes showed the committee how much people from all around the world love Louis and Lucille’s home and treasure their time there.

This funding initiative will help keep Louis’s legacy alive in Corona, Queens — and when the weather is hot, so is the music at the LAHM.  Click Satchmo to learn more about the summer programs in the Garden!

This Sunday, June 17, the EarRegulars — that New York institution founded by Matt Munisteri and Jon-Erik Kellso — will be celebrating their fifth anniversary of glorious Sunday-night improvising at The Ear Inn (326 Spring Street, Soho, New York City): the charter quartet will be Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; John Allred, trombone; James Chirillo, guitar; Neal Miner, string bass . . . prepare for high spirits, guests, and fine jazz!

Another celebration is taking place this week, and it’s remarkable.  George Avakian is celebrating his ninety-third birthday.  And he is doing it among friends: at Birdland this coming Wednesday, June 20, from 5:30 to 7:15, hot music provided by the Louis Armstrong Centennial Band led by David Ostwald.  Birdland is located at 315 West 44th Street, New York City, and the phone number is (212) 580 3080.

When we attended one of George’s birthday celebrations with the LACB, the line formed early and it was long . . . so make plans early!

The musicians scheduled to be there include David, tuba; Marion Felder, drums; James Chirillo, banjo; Pete Martinez, clarinet; Jim Fryer, trombone; Randy Reinhart, cornet . . . and I am sure there will many musicians who want to pay tribute to George as only they can.  Don’t miss this party!

May your happiness increase.

DOIN’ THE MIDTOWN LOWDOWN at Birdland (Dec. 1, 2010)

Wise New Yorkers know that the place to be on Wednesdays from 5:30 to 7:15 is Birdland, where tubaist David Ostwald leads the Louis Armstrong Centennial Band through music associated with the man Eddie Condon affectionately called “Mr. Strong.” 

Last Wednesday, even though the rain was occasionally torrential, we were warm, even hot, indoors, listening to a wonderful edition of the LACB, with Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Dan Block, clarinet, alto, and vocal; Jim Fryer, trombone, euphonium, and vocal; Rossano Sportiello, piano; Kevin Dorn, drums.  And here are some highlights:

The LACB always begins its set with a living homage to Louis and the All-Stars: a powerful reading of WHEN IT’S SLEEPY TIME DOWN SOUTH that picks up the tempo for a rousing BACK HOME IN INDIANA:

In keeping with Louis’s avowed romantic nature, they played I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH ME at a bouncing tempo — exultant rather than pensive — imagine Louis hearing that Lucille would marry him!  Beautiful creamy alto playing from Dan Block, and some apt cantorial comments from Jon-Erik Kellso:

In the same mood (although a little slower), Eubie Blake’s YOU’RE LUCKY TO ME, where Jon-Erik’s solo, full of death-defying leaps, has a good deal of Eldridge bravura:

SHINE has appalling lyrics, but Louis, Bing Crosby, the Mills Brothers, and Benny Goodman had a wonderful time playing and singing it:

THE MEMPHIS BLUES is another classic by “Debussy” Handy – – -and Jim Fryer sings it most convincingly without strain (don’t miss Jon-Erik on air trombone in the chorus!):

Bless Harry Barris — not only WRAP YOUR TROUBLES IN DREAMS, IT MUST BE TRUE, and IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL, but I SURRENDER, DEAR.  Mellow and ruminative indeed, suggesting Eldridge, Hilton Jefferson, and Bing (with Jim picking up his euphonium, which sounds like a lower-pitched French horn rather than a baby tuba, owing to his graceful playing).  Rossano’s little interlude is another gem:

The LACB usually ends its Birdland gigs with a romping statement of purpose: they’re as happy as they can be when they SWING THAT MUSIC for us.  And please watch the hilarious yet meaningful pantomime before the song begins (Jon-Erik is directing the band, not making shadow puppets on the rear wall).  The result is a wonderful vocal interlude from Dan, someone who doesn’t sing enough on gigs, and a seriously swinging performance, thanks to everyone, especially Rossano and Kevin. 

When we had said our good-byes and left Birdland, the rain had stopped; the skies were clear.  The Weather Channel must have had its own explanation, but I think the hot music inside chased the clouds and torrents away.

TIMES THREE: JIM FRYER at Birdland (Dec. 1, 2010)

The Beloved and I braved the ominous weather last Wednesday night to see David Ostwald’s Louis Armstrong Centennial Band at Birdland.  Onstage with David were Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Dan Block, clarinet, alto, and vocal; Jim Fryer, trombone, euphonium, and vocal; Rossano Sportiello, piano; Kevin Dorn, drums.

High-powered indeed! 

Early in the evening, David asked Jim to take a solo feature.  Trombonists in such settings often think of their hero, Jack Teagarden, and rely on BASIN STREET BLUES or STARS FELL ON ALABAMA, but although Jim admires Big T, he has other things in mind.  And the song he chose was THE GYPSY, famous in some circles as one of the few pop songs that both Louis Armstong and Charlie Parker immortalized. 

In a very few minutes, Jim showed off — casually and modestly — every facet of his considerable talents: his smooth and elegant playing of the possibly-ungraceful euphonium, then his sleek and suave approach to the trombone. 

In between his two instrumental selves, he sang both verse and chorus in the most convincing yet understated way.  Clearly he understands that each song is its own story, its own drama, and he invites the audience into the world of that song, without “dramatizing” it or copying anyone.  There’s something of the great crooners in his approach, but nothing’s “nostalgic” or mannered. 

It was a quietly masterful performance, but those of us who have observed Jim at close range expect no less.  In fact, when we see he’s at a gig, or notice him coming through the door to sit in, we get comfortable and eagerly expectant: something good is going to happen!  As it does here:

And watching this video performance again, it struck me that Jim (like so many of his colleagues) is someone who, in another decade, would have been a star of popular television, with a large, enthralled audience.  Those of my readers who recall THE ED SULLIVAN SHOW . . . can’t you see Jim on it?  Alas that such a thing is no longer possible: we will have to content ourselves with seeing Jim in person, not a bad consolation at all.

THE MAESTRO PLAYS COLE PORTER at Birdland (Dec. 1, 2010)

Last night, Wednesday, December 1, the Beloved and I went to Birdland to catch another edition of David Ostwald’s Louis Armstrong Centennial Band.  The weather had kept many people away, but the band played beautifully to the small, attentive audience.

That band?  David, tuba; Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Dan Block, clarinet, alto, and a surprise vocal; Jim Fryer, trombone, euphonium, and vocals; Kevin Dorn, drums. 

And Rossano Sportiello, piano. 

Rossano — “The Maestro” to me any many others — made the most of his solo feature.  He decided, without any fanfare, to create a small but powerful Cole Porter tribute, beginning with a sad, delicate EV’RYTIME WE SAY GOODBYE and moving into a JUST ONE OF THOSE THINGS that was a rollicking extravaganza. 

Students of the jazz tradition will be able to say, “Oh, there’s a Dave McKenna walking bass,” or perhaps, “Catch those hints of Cliff Jackson, will you?”  But it’s all Rossano: the gliding agility, the dazzling intensity that doesn’t rely on raising the volume or pounding the keys; the singular voicings, his beautiful touch. 

It was an astonishing performance — and halfway through this video, I couldn’t resist panning away from the piano to catch the rest of the LACB, leaning silent and awestruck at the other end of the room, savoring every nuance. 

Maestro Sportiello melds lyricism and swing so beautifully, that a performance like this, extraordinary for us, is what he does so well every time I’ve ever heard him play. 

Bravo!  Bravo!

GOOD OLD NEW YORK: BOB WILBER AT BIRDLAND (September 1, 2010)

One of the more reassuring aspects of the New York jazz scene is that a few steady gigs remain — the Sunday and Monday night hoedowns at Arthur’s Tavern on Grove Street; the EarRegulars at The Ear Inn on Sundays; Vince Giordano and the Nighthawks (now on Monday and Tuesday) downstairs in the Hotel Edison.  And this year David Ostwald’s Louis Armstrong Centennial Band (or Gully Low Jazz Band) began its second decade of early-evening sessions at Birdland — Wednesday from 5:30 to 7:15.

Last Wednesday the Beloved and I took our accustomed table and I prepared to record the festivities.  And festive they were for sure, with David on tuba and patter; Marion Felder on drums; Ehud Asherie on piano; Harvey Tibbs on trombone; Jon-Erik Kellso on trumpet, and special guest Bob Wilber on two sopranos, straight and curved, and clarinet (in sequence, not at once).  And David even arranged for the two singers in the audience — Daryl Sherman and Pug Horton (Mrs. Wilber) to come up and do a Louis-themed duet.

In his own way, Wilber is the last of a great breed — whether you think of him as Bechet’s curly-haired boyish protege, half of Soprano Summit / Summit Reunion, or in his many other roles — someone who’s been playing his heart out for over six decades.  And the LACB was delighted to have him on the stand and inspired by his presence: Jon-Erik and Harvey played majestically and with slippery grace; Ehud was as nimble as ever; David provided his own special propulsion, and Marion once again taught us all how to swing on the often-ignored snare drum (no monotonous ride cymbal for Maestro Felder).  Here’s what the festivities sounded like:

The opening, seguing from WHEN IT’S SLEEPY TIME DOWN SOUTH into INDIANA, was the start of Louis’s concert appearances with the All-Stars for a long time:

Then, a moody classic Louis recorded in 1931 (playing the Reverend in front of his Chicago band full of New Orleans homeboys), THE LONESOME ROAD:

And an experiment — a Hot Five song that the LACB hadn’t tried before, one of the lesser-known recordings, WHO’S IT (or I’ve also seen it typed as WHO’SIT) which the band not only handled beautifully but made swing out in a long, leisurely rock:

A lovely feature for Wilber, Hoagy Carmichael’s ROCKIN’ CHAIR (which summons up not only Louis but also Jack Teagarden, Bix Beiderbecke, and Mildred Bailey):

I don’t think I’M A DING DONG DADDY (by Phil Baxter) would have had its fame — spreading to the Benny Goodman small groups by way of Lionel Hampton, who appeared on Louis’s original recording — had it not been for Louis, even with the wonderful tongue-twisting lyrics:

And another romper — CHINATOWN, MY CHINATOWN (all hail Lips Page, too!):

Because the Birdland audience held not one but two singers — Daryl Sherman and Pug Horton (Mrs. Wilber) — David decided to call them both up (a first!) and they essayed a loose, friendly version of JEEPERS CREEPERS, which (as you know) Louis originally sang to a horse of the same name in the film GOIN’ PLACES:

And the session closed, as it always does, with a rousing SWING THAT MUSIC:

Thanks to all the musicians (and singers) in the house for the good sounds!

JIM FRYER AND FRIENDS, SWEETLY (June 2, 2010)

I was at Birdland last Wednesday, listening to David Ostwald’s Louis Armstrong Centennial Band.  The LACB always attracts first-rank players, but this edition was remarkable because it was an All-Star All-Leader Band (with none of the expected tensions): David on tuba and vaudeville commentaries; Vince Giordano on banjo, vocal, and guitar; Jon-Erik Kellso on trumpet; Dan Block on clarinet and alto sax; Jim Fryer on trombone and vocals. 

Although it has nothing to do with his musical virtues, Jim might be the least-celebrated of this group, although I’ve admired his playing since I first heard him a few years ago — perhaps as a member of the Nighthawks and certainly as someone sharing the stage with Bria Skonberg at one of Bill Taggart’s informal jazz gatherings.  He is a modest player but an exuberant player, taking risks when appropriate, never coasting.  I’ve also known him as a fine understated singer — but I’ve never heard him sing as wonderfully as he did last Wednesday.

As much as he enjoys playing the music and talking about Louis Armstrong, David Ostwald loves to connect with the people in the audience.  Occasionally it takes the form of comedy, as when he earnestly implores those of us who are driving to be sure we have a car, but sometimes it’s much more personal and endearing.  At the end of the first set, David noticed that there were a number of well-dressed women of varying ages in the front row; he chatted with them and found that they were at Birdland to celebrate someone’s birthday — which turned out to be the nicely coiffed Lorraine . . . someone obviously surrounded by love from the other women in her party. 

Because the LACB draws much of its repertoire from music that Louis played and recorded, SWEET LORRAINE was a natural choice — something the great man recorded in the Fifties on Verve with Oscar Peterson.  So the band launched into a sweet, slow version, but no one had yet chosen to take the vocal.  Vince had sung a few numbers before this with great style, but no vocal was announced . . . until Jim took the microphone to deliver the refrain in the most tenderly endearing manner:

Lorraine, sitting right in front of me, was delighted. 

And I, watching this performance again, find it full of human moments: the pleasure of Dan Block’s chalumeau register; Jon-Erik’s steady, winding phrases (and how unflappable he is while a good deal of microphone-hunting is going on behind him); Vince, making jokes as he plays; the pulse of the rhythm section, and Jon-Erik’s quiet Muggsy Spanier ending.  Masterful all around!

Sometimes bad things pile on: this was a rare night when one outpouring of affection succeeded another.  Vince Giordano came over to Lorraine at the end of the night (he is ever hopeful of garnering some fascinating piece of first-hand experience from someone who saw and heard his heroes) but Lorraine didn’t recall the names of bands; she didn’t have Victor Home Recording discs in her attic; she did, however, tell Vince that she was an avid fox-trotter, which pleased him.

Then David Ostwald brought himself and his tuba over and tenderly chatted with Lorraine . . . and said, “I’m going to play something for you.”  He proceeded to play a tender, legato, singing version of HAPPY BIRTHDAY — sweet and slow — on the tuba, ending with a Louis-flourish.  He sang through that brass tubing as if it were a cello — a very moving experience!  I was sitting there, possibly with my mouth open, too struck by what was going on (it seemed private) to record it for YouTube, so you will have to imagine it.

When I caught up with Jim later, to tell him how much this particular performance moved me, he reminded me that one of his and his wife Rosita’s daughters is named Lorraine — a choice the prospective parents made after hearing Doc Cheatham sing the song with unaffected grace on Sunday brunches at Sweet Basil.  It pleases me immensely to be able to offer this lyrical moment for the Lorraine in the audience, Lorraine Fryer, and all the people out there who answer to other names. 

What is all this?  Love in the shape of music.

“SEARCH ENGINE TERMS,” 2010

It’s that time again: our irregular compendium of the odd ways that 1) people find this blog, and 2) what they think they are looking for, often the answer to a question or an attempt to locate something vaguely defined.  Here are seven, with some often flippant commentary attached.

fats waller vs billie holiday

I wish I knew what the searcher had in mind: was (s)he considering the repertoire Fats and Billie had in common, or their particular approaches to songs, or their respective popularity or the sales figures of their records?  The image it calls to mind is of Jazz Wrestling or Jazz Boxing.  Fats would have been able to stifle Billie by sheer bulk, but she’d have it over him on mobility, tenacity, and perhaps rage.  And what color trunks would they wear? 

what year did mildred bailey get fat

The mind reels.  What is there to say?  The nature of the question ends all inquiry, I think. 

louis armstrong on cakes

I want to know where this bakery is.  My birthday is in November, and I wouldn’t mind a Louis-cake at all.  Or is “on cakes” rather like “on skates,” modifying the subject in a different way; thus, Louis caught in the act of eating some cake?  Do tell.

song title they called her easy

An actual song, or a mis-hearing of something more familiar? 

youtube carl montana trombone

You know, he worked with the WGJB for a short time — a mountainous player with a wonderful range!

what snare drum did nick fatool play

clyde hurley autograph

These two move me from satire to delight.  To think that someone was asking the first question; to think that someone was sufficiently interested in the  great and little-known trumpeter Hurley . . . these are a pleasure.

A postscript, with amusement.  One day after I posted this, a new entry appeared, its subject the fine trombonist Dion Tucker, whom I’ve seen with David Ostwald’s Louis Armstrong Centennial Band at Birdland on Wednesdays:

dion tucker does he have kids

“Who wants to know?” I say.  Dion, if you read my blog, let me know so that I can put someone’s mind at ease . . .

TWO JAZZ NIGHTS (APRIL 2010)

My jazz friend Stompy Jones wrote to see if I was feeling well . . . he noted that blogging had slowed for a few days.  Never fear: I was on the prowl with a new video camera — whose fancy innards are still mysterious — to capture some Hot jazz.

On Wednesday, April 28, the Beloved and I went to that midtown oasis, Birdland, to catch the early evening set led by David Ostwald — his band being the Louis Armstrong Centennial Band, a group that will be celebrating its tenth anniversary in May.  This edition of the LACB had, in addition to David, Kevin Dorn, Ehud Asherie, Dan Block (on alto as well as clarinet), Wycliffe Gordon, and Gordon Au.  Here they perform a stately version of Fats Waller’s BLUE TURNING GREY OVER YOU, homage to Louis’s mid-Fifties tribute, SATCH PLAYS FATS:

And here’s a song no one sings anymore, for good reason — but Louis, Bing Crosby, Benny Goodman and others found it good material to improvise on — SHINE or S-H-I-N-E, take your pick:

The next night, I went to Shanghai Jazz, David Niu’s cozy restaurant-with-music in Madison, New Jersey, to hear Dan Levinson’s Palomar Trio.  It was supposed to be Dan, pianist Mark Shane, and Kevin Dorn, but Kevin (rare for him) fell ill — with an able replacement found in young vibes wizard Matt Hoffmann, who began his career as a drummer.  Here’s the trio on A SAILBOAT IN THE MOONLIGHT, recorded by both Billie Holiday and Johnny Hodges:

And a jaunty version of I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH ME:

I offer two postscripts as evidence that sometimes the real fun happens off the bandstand with people who don’t play instruments or sing for a living. 

There was a time-honored tradition of musicians walking around the room, playing or singing softly at each table (for tips or for pleasure).  I was telling someone recently about hearing the trumpeter Louis Metcalfe do just this at Jimmy Ryan’s, moving from table to table, playing a medium-tempo soft ROSETTA, putting his Harmon-muted horn almost in my ear — a brief unforgettable experience. 

Birdland isn’t set up for “strolling violins,” but the Jazz Acupuncturist, Marcia Salter, paid us a visit between sets on Wednesday.  When the conversation turned for a moment away from music, I told Marcia that the Beloved’s back was hurting her.  Without so much as a “May I see your insurance card?” Marcia was showing both of us acupressure points to relieve pain.  It was a characteristically generous display (Marcia, of course, operates on the principle of “What would Louis do?”) and it’s the only time I’ve ever seen a medical house call in a jazz club.  Marcia’s hours, for the moment, are Wednesday from 5:30 – 7:15, but you can catch her at other venues. 

The next night, at Shanghai Jazz, I was seated next to the jazz enthusiast and amateur tenor saxophonist Ray Cerino, someone I haven’t seen in some time.  Midway during the evening, Dan asked the audience for requests, and Ray suggested MY FOOLISH HEART.  (Aside from being an all-around Good Fellow, he is also a Deep Romantic.)  Dan played it beautifully, and then Ray delivered a brief impromptu disquistion on the lyrics, the only man I’ve ever heard use the literary term “conceit” in a jazz club.  And Ray knew what he  meant!

Reasons to be thankful!

FOR LOUIS: BIRDLAND, April 14, 2010

It’s very simple.  For just about ten years, David Ostwald (tubaist-raconteur) has organized regular Wednesday jazz sessions at Birdland in midtown Manhattan, getting congenial friends together to honor Louis Armstrong.  Depending on the phase of the moon, the band is called either the GULLY LOW JAZZ BAND or the LOUIS ARMSTRONG CENTENNIAL BAND.  Names don’t matter much — GULLY LOW BLUES was one of Louis’s most stirring recordings of 1927, and the CENTENNIAL BAND plays music associated with The Master.

David could not be there this night — April 14, 2010 — and it took two players to replace him.  One was Vince Giordano, singing, announcing tunes, and playing banjo, keeping the rhythm riding.  Bass chores were handled nimbly by Brian Nalepka, who slapped away in fine style and also sang on SUNNY SIDE OF THE STREET.  That hero of the snare drum, Marion Felder, kept a swinging pulse without raising his volume.  In the front line, a newcomer to Birdland (but not to us), clarinetist Dennis Lichtman wove beautiful curlicues around the melody, making every note count.  Dion Tucker, sometimes gruff, sometimes tender, shone in solo and in ensemble.  And Gordon Au constructed lovely solos whether the band was lamenting or shouting. 

(I only found out something about Gordon’s heroic ancestry — and that’s because the Beloved asked the right question: did you know that his “Uncle Howie” is the extraordinary trumpet / tuba / trombone / vocalist Howard Miyata, with the High Sierra Jazz Band and the New El Dorado Jazz Band?  Gordon didn’t take lessons from his uncle, but Howard did give his young nephew a cornet . . . from which marvels have come.)

The band began, as it usually does, with WHEN IT’S SLEEPY TIME DOWN SOUTH that segues into INDIANA, the way Louis used to begin his concerts with the All-Stars:

Then Vince called the joyous Fats Waller tune, I’M CRAZY ‘BOUT MY BABY (something Louis sang and played so beautifully in the Fifties).  And Vince sang, exuberantly:

ON THE SUNNY SIDE OF THE STREET, a classic at a number of tempos, was Brian Nalepka’s choice for a vocal feature:

(For his feature, Dion Tucker did a sorrowing I SURRENDER, DEAR, but I had technical problems with the video — the sweet-natured waitperson came over in the middle of it to ask us culinary questions.  Sorry, Dion!)

Returning to the Land of Waller, Vince called for a brisk AIN’T MISBEHAVIN’ — at a tempo that reminded him of the 1929 version that Bill Robinson recorded with a small Ellington contingent:

Dennis Lichtman showed his fluid swing on BLUE SKIES (fitting because Louis loved Irving Berlin’s melodies and, I think, recorded this one circa 1943 with his big band):

An audience member (was it Steve?) called out HELLO, DOLLY! when Vince asked for requests:

The second set began with a rocking CHINATOWN, MY CHINATOWN:

Vince reminded us that Louis’s recordings of WHEN YOU’RE SMILING are slow and spacious, frankly operatic:

And — for a closing rouser — the band launched into AFTER YOU’VE GONE:

All for you, Louis!

“MONSTROUS!” SHE SAYS

Lisa Ryan, who creates lovely impressionistic YouTube video-collages related to Bix Beiderbecke, sent along this quotation she found in a biography of Josephine Baker.  The speaker is dancer Isadora Duncan:

It seems to me monstrous that anyone should believe that the jazz rhythm expresses America. Jazz rhythm expresses the primitive savage.

I wonder what “jazz rhythm” she had heard in her days and nights in the United States, Paris, and Moscow.  Had she been terrortized by the primitive passions of Bechet, Miley, or Oliver, I would understand.  But I wonder if the music that so upset her was no more than a tea-dance band (violin, saxophone, piano, drums) one-stepping through STUMBLING.  Or did she get upset when someone read Vachel Lindsay’s THE CONGO aloud? 

Poor Miss Duncan: she didn’t go to the right places or hear the right recordings.  Would James P. Johnson’s SNOWY MORNING BLUES have struck her as “monstrous,” or the dancing of Bill Robinson?  Was her terror the fear of all things African-American?  I hope not. 

I must be off, to see David Ostwald and the Louis Armstrong Centennial Band devote themselves to the music of that “savage” Mr. Armstrong.  It will amuse me to envision Miss Duncan, clapping her hands over her ears and fleeing as the band begins its Wednesday night ritual of WHEN IT’S SLEEPY TIME DOWN SOUTH.  Oh, what Isadora missed . . . !

“OH, PLAY THOSE THINGS!” (April 7, 2010)

The Beloved and I haven’t been to Birdland for the early-evening Wednesday gig of David Ostwald’s GULLY LOW JAZZ BAND (a/k/a LOUIS ARMSTRONG CENTENNIAL BAND) for some time.  The music we heard there tonight convinced me that we — and everyone else — should show up far more often. 

For those of you who don’t know the place or the circumstances, Birdland is on 44th Street in New York City between Eighth and Ninth Avenue, and David’s band will be celebrating its tenth anniversay there this May — a remarkable achievement in these times or in any times.  Speaking of times, the band plays two sets — from 5:30 to 7:15 — convenient for an early dinner or a pre-theatre visit.  The cover is $10 / person — less than a movie!

This edition of the GLJB was made up almost entirely of leaders, but it was delightful, rather than a disharmonious ego-scuffle.  Here are four highlights in an evening devoted to the music of Louis, early and late.  In addition to David, the band featured Marion Felder on drums (swinging his snare drum in a manner that suggested New Orleans street parades as well as Baby Dodds and Zutty Singleton), Vince Giordano on banjo, vocals, and two spots on piano; Gordon Au on trumpet, characteristically eloquent; Jim Fryer on trombone and vocals, playing masterfully; Dan Block, fervent as always on clarinet and tenor sax. 

First, a tender, earnest, and swinging version of I CAN’T GIVE YOU ANYTHING BUT LOVE, sweetly sung by Vince.  After the first set, he spoke disparagingly of his singing, which I flatly refused to countenance: it’s the heartfelt, casual style so prevalent in the Thirties, and so appropriate:

Then, a chugging BEALE STREET BLUES which owed just as much to a 1953 Eddie Condon session as to Louis’s performance, slightly later.  A highlight for me (and the other people at Birdland) was the entirely unexpected scat battle between Vince and Jim — priceless fun:

Then it was time for beauty — IN MY SOLITUDE.  How many people recall Louis’s lovely 1935 Decca recording, with vocal?  This performance, although instrumental, is entirely in the right spirit — both hushed and emotionally forthright:

Finally, a romp through DIPPER MOUTH BLUES . . . from which I take my title:

There were distinguished guests in the audience, too: broadcaster and writer Lloyd Moss, trumpeter Charlie Caranicas, acupuncturist Marcia Salter.  See you there some Wednesday!  Worth every penny!

DUKE HEITGER’S ON HIS WAY (October 2009)

What, I ask you, could be simpler or more pleasing?  Duke will be here for a whirlwind tour where every day’s a holiday:

Sunday,  October 4: at The Ear Inn with Anat Cohen, Matt Munisteri, bassist and friendly sit-ins to be arranged.

Monday, October 5: Duke will be part of the trumpet section with Vince Giordano and the Nighthawks, which is always a treat to hear.  (Sofia’s Restaurant in the Hotel Edison in midtown, of course.)

Tuesday, October 6: Duke and Ehud Asherie will play duets (and perhaps more) at Roth’s Westside Steakhouse (on Columbus Avenue on the Upper West Side).

Wednesday, October 7: Duke will sing out with David Ostwald’s Louis Armstrong Centennial Band at Birdland (5:30 PM).

Thursday, October 8: He will be one of the stars at Jack Kleinsinger’s HIGHLIGHTS IN JAZZ concert, bringing together Ehud, Anat, George Masso, Jackie Williams, and many others.

I’ve skimped on the details on when and where — but all of these sites have their necessary information on the blog.  Yours in haste – – –

RED BEANS AND RICELY OURS

ostituba

David Ostwald, the tuba-playing, wise-cracking leader of the Louis Armstrong Centennial Band, has created a brand-new website: www.ostwaldjazz.com

You haven’t visited David’s new site yet to hear the free hot jazz, see the lively videos, read about the band and David’s own fine writing about Louis Armstrong?  Feel all right?  Your eyes look a little glassy.  Let me feel your forehead . . . .

Don’t be the last one on your block to be enlightened!

“HAPPY BIRDLAND TO YOU!” (MAY 6, 2009)

The Beloved and I went to Birdland last night, video camera and tripod at the ready, to celebrate.  Not an occasion of our own, but to raise our glasses and cheer a long run that shows no sign of abating.  It’s the Wednesday night gig of David Ostwald’s Louis Armstrong Centennial Band (a/k/a/ the Gully Low Jazz Band) — which celebrated its ninth anniversary.  As David correctly pointed out, a two-week gig in jazz is a rare thing.  So for the LACB to be on the stand for approximately four hundred and fifty Wednesdays in a row is testimony to their endurance, the love they generate in their audiences, and the lasting appeal of the music they play and the exuberant way they play it.  It also says something about the enduring appeal of the man whose music they celebrate, but that should be obvious to everyone by now.

This Wednesday’s gig wasn’t a riotous affair.  True, a tidy little cake with one candle appeared during the second set, but the general atmosphere was superficially quiet.  But that’s a good thing in a jazz club when it is the attentiveness of a great band (musicians who listen to each other!) focused on their material and the quiet of a happy, perceptive audience, listening closely — people sitting straight in their chairs, grinning, tapping their feet, applauding in the right places.  A hip band, a hip crowd.  Just how hip was the crowd?  How about George Avakian, Daryl Sherman, Dan Morgenstern, Lloyd Moss, the Beloved, and myself.

The band was a first-class version of David’s floating ensembles: Jon-Erik Kellso on trumpet; Vincent Gardner on trombone and vocal; Anat Cohen on clarinet; Mark Shane on piano; David Ostwald on tuba and commentary; Kevin Dorn, “young Kevin,” on drums.  Here’s some of what they played — for those of you beyond midtown.

About the music: they began this Wednesday as they always have, in tribute to the Louis Armstrong All-Stars of blessed memory, with a nostalgic WHEN IT’S SLEEPY TIME DOWN that segued, after Kevin kicked it off, into a rousing BACK HOME AGAIN IN INDIANA.  (For wise commentary on Louis and the All-Stars, be sure to visit Ricky Riccardi’s site, “The Wonderful World of Louis Armstrong,” and save your dimes (get some cash for your trash!) for his book on Louis’s later years, to be published in 2010 by Pantheon.

ROYAL GARDEN BLUES is a song that has been flattened down somewhat by formulaic playing by many jazz bands of varying quality, but it was first a tribute to the place where Louis and King Oliver amazed everyone, so it has to be taken seriously.  And Bix Beiderbecke and his Gang did a pretty good version of it as well.  (So did Count Basie and the Benny Goodman Sextet, so the song — and its routines — are durable for sure.)

Don Redman’s pretty rhythm ballad, SAVE IT PRETTY MAMA, was recorded twice by Louis — in 1928 with his Hot Five, and in 1947 at Town Hall.  In these days of economic uncertainty, saving whatever “it” might be seems like a good idea, and Vincent Gardner sings the simple lyrics with conviction and a bit of amusement.

W.C. Handy’s compositions drew on traditional folk and blues forms, and ATLANTA BLUES is one of his most lively, also memorably recorded by Louis in his 1954 Columbia tribute, a recording produced by the venerable and venerated Mr. Avakian.

I don’t think Louis ever recorded SOMEDAY, SWEETHEART but it’s certainly a lasting tune.  Here, the spotlight falls on a quartet: Anat, Mark, David, and Kevin, at points summoning up the happiness that was the Benny Goodman Trio.  Or Mildred Bailey’s recording with Teddy Wilson.  (Mark knew the verse and played it splendidly.)

Finally, a delightful surprise: the Wednesday manager of Birdland, Brian Villegas, is also a fine singer: he joined the band on IT’S ALL RIGHT WITH ME — and it was more than all right with us.  Wishing you fame and happiness, Brian!

If you couldn’t make it to Birdland last night to join in the festivities, you missed something dee-licious, as Louis would say.  But some of the same hot jazz and good energy will be there next Wednesday from 5:30 – 7:15, and the Wednesdays into the future.  I’m sure David will accept belated felicitations with his usual graciousness.

THE JAZZ CORNUCOPIA

cornucopia“Feast or famine,” my mother used to say.

Looks like Wednesday and Thursday, May 6 and 7, are Jazz Feast Nights, posing a moral dilemma of the most pleasant kind.

From 5:30 to 7:15 or thereabouts, David Ostwald and the Louis Armstrong Centennial Band will be celebrating their ninth birthday at Birdland — a wonderful long run — by doing what they do best, honoring Mr. Strong with his music and theirs.  The noble participants tonight include Jon-Erik Kellso, Vincent Gardner, Anat Cohen, Mark Shane, and Kevin Dorn.  And who knows what other luminaries might stop by, with horns or not?

Tomorrow . . . from 6:30 to 8:30, my man Ricky Riccardi will be conversing with Marty Napoleon uptown at the Jazz Museum in Harlem.  Marty is an energetic, funny storyteller with baskets of anecdotage about two stints on the road with Louis, work and play with Red Allen, Gene Krupa, and his own groups.  He’s the very definition of “irrepressible,” and I know Ricky will do nothing to repress him.  Also Ricky has promised to bring along some rare film footage of Marty and Louis.  Take the “A” train uptown to hear a good deal of Marty’s engaging talk. 

If you prefer to stay downtown, the competition is fierce — Jon-Erik Kellso and Ehud Asherie will be playing an hour of duets at Smalls, 8-9 PM.  Maybe you could listen to Marty for an hour and then scurry down (take the 1 to Christopher Street) and catch that wonderful duet.  

Those who complain about the lack of gigs in New York City should take advantage of this jazz cornucopia!  “That’s a-plenty!”

A LOUIS ARMSTRONG CONTEST (with a real prize!)

louis-heebie-jeebies-jpegLast night (Wednesday, March 18), the Beloved and I went to Birdland to be part of the joyous celebration of George Avakian’s ninetieth birthday, with stellar music from the Louis Armstrong Centennial Band to elevate us all.

I had my video camera and hope to post some live clips from this very happy evening.

Midway through the evening, David Ostwald announced a “Louis Armstrong trivia contest,” with the prize — courtesy of Michael Cogswell — a two-for-the-price-of-one ticket to the Louis Armstrong House / Museum in Corona, Queens.  I knew the answer to the question — who was Louis’s third wife? (Alpha!) and I won the prize.

But I’ve been to the House before, and I’d rather give this wonderful experience to someone who hasn’t ever had the chance.

Here it is — the First Official Jazz Lives Louis Armstrong Contest.

To win this ticket (good until January 1, 2010) write me no more than 500 words on what your favorite Louis Armstrong recordings are.  I will post the comments.  Entries will be judged on their originality and perceptiveness, as always.  The contest will end on Friday, March 27, at midnight.  And, of course, all entries become the property of the Management, whatever that means.

Seriously, I would like to hear from people who have never been to the House but love Louis.  And if you live in Colorado or Oaxaca, you might have to convince me that you actually are going to visit New York City before next January.

Let the fun begin!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GEORGE, IN ADVANCE!

george-avakian-1956The photograph on the right was taken more than a half-century ago, in the Columbia studios, where Louis Armstrong was recording a tribute to W.C. Handy.  The fellow on the right is our subject today: record producer and jazz scholar George Avakian.  He’s made wonderful recordings with everyone from Louis to Duke to Johnny Mathis t0 Buck Clayton to Miles Davis to Eddie Condon to Jimmy Rushing and on and on . . . .

And, for those of us with long memories, there were the CHICAGO JAZZ sessions for Decca — a mere seventy years ago.

George is turning ninety!  And we will be among the happy, grateful people celebrating this at Birdland next Wednesday, March 18.

But it’s not simply a matter of cake and soda in paper cups.  Nay nay.

David Ostwald’s Louis Armstrong Centennial Band will be on the stand from 5:30 to 8 PM (a longer stretch than usual) — David on tuba, Randy Sandke on trumpet, Wycliffe Gordon on trombone, Anat Cohen on clarinet, Mark Shane on piano, and Kevin Dorn on drums.  I would be very surprised if some friends of the band — and of George — didn’t come by and sit in.

For reservations at Birdland, the place David calls “New York’s friendliest jazz club,” 315 West 44th Street, call 212-581-3080.


MORE BIRDLAND BLISS (March 4, 2009)

The heroes return: David Ostwald (tuba), Jon-Erik Kellso (trumpet), Dion Tucker (trombone), Anat Cohen (clarinet), Mark Shane (piano), Kevin Dorn (drums) for “one up, one down.”

The “one up” is I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH ME, one of those Thirties songs that can find its own identity at a variety of tempos, from ballad slow to this cheerful rock.  I like the Kellso-inspired riffs behind Anat’s solo, Mark’s playing behind the soloists, Dion’s modern guttiness, another Braffish riff, Kevin’s brushwork, and Mark’s energetic delicacy — catch what he does in the bridge of his first chorus.  Something for everyone!

A highlight of the evening was David’s calling MAYBE YOU’LL BE THERE (written, I think, by Charles LaVere) — a wistful, lonely ballad immortalized first by Jack Teagarden with the Armstrong All-Stars, later by Frank Sinatra.  It it not only a lovely song, but a wonderful performance — a true example of jazz heroism for Dion, who was not terribly familiar with its contours, but played it beautifully with one eye on the lead sheet.  In fact, Jon-Erik, Dion, and Mark do that most rewarding thing — summoning up the great forefathers Louis, Jack, and Teddy — without copying a note or a gesture.  Three cheers!

And more to come!  We expect to be at Birdland on March 18th to celebrate George Avakian’s ninetieth birthday.  You come, too . . . !

LOUIS ARMSTRONG CENTENNIAL BAND, MARCH 4, 2009

What do you get when you put David Ostwald, Jon-Erik Kellso, Dion Tucker, Anat Cohen, Mark Shane, and Kevin Dorn — with their respective instruments — in front of an appreciative audience?  You get hot, heartfelt jazz.  And it happened in front of my very eyes and ears at Birdland last Wednesday night — the Louis Armstrong Centennial Band’s regular gig.

David, who plays tuba, leads the band, and offers vaudeville commentary, is deeply devoted to Louis.  But he understands that repertory recreation is not the way.  So he will call songs that Louis played without insisting that his star musicians copy the recorded performances, and this freedom is ennobling.

The band characteristically begins its early evening gigs with Louis’s theme, SLEEPY TIME DOWN SOUTH — which (after a drum break) becomes BACK HOME AGAIN IN INDIANA.  What wistful domestic thoughts were going through David’s head last Wednesday night I can’t know, but they had a wonderful result, as he called one of my favorite songs, HOME, subtitled “When Shadows Fall.”  And the band seemed just as inspired.  Catch Jon-Erik’s passion-barely-under-control upward emoting at the end of the ensemble chorus, before Mark explores the lovely possibilities of this song in his best thoughtful, ambling way — out of Teddy and Fats (singing quietly to himself) with Kevin’s padding brushwork behind it all.  Brief solos by Dion (gruff and feeling) and Anat (exploring the clarinet’s chalumeau register) give way to Jon-Erik’s solo, embodying everything Louis did without ever moving from his own creative sense.  Discographical digression: Louis recorded it for the first time in 1931, with his introduction a quote from “Home Sweet Home,” and then revisited the song with Russ Garcia in the middle Fifties for one of his most moving sessions, LOUIS UNDER THE STARS.  The other version that is firmly implanted in loving memory is on the Keynote label, 1944, featuring George Wettling and his New Yorkers — with devastating playing and singing from Jack Teagarden, Coleman Hawkins, and the Blessed Joe Thomas.  But here it is in 2009:

Mark Shane’s solo feature, a happy romp through that old nonsense ditty, JADA, showed off what he does so well.  Not only has the the technical capacity to seamlessly recreate the ambiance of Fats and Teddy, but he has so intuited their playing that he sounds like himself rather than someone offering gestures learned from the records.  A good deal of this comes from Mark’s deep listening — we were talking about early Miles Davis before the set began–that goes far and wide.  He’s heard and thought about all the great jazz players, and they smile on his playing.

Finally, for this post, we have MELANCHOLY (or MELANCHOLY BLUES), a song Louis recorded twice in 1927.  It has the same chords as I AIN’T GOT NOBODY, and here the mood vacillates between sorrow, resignation, and some impassioned frustration — especially in the playing of Jon-Erik and Dion.  But you should also listen to and admire the band’s rocking cohesiveness. 

More to come in a future post . . . . so there will be no reason for anyone to be melancholy or Melancholy.  Trust me. 

Sharp-eyed viewers may note that the video quality is different from those occasions when Flip was in charge.  Flip didn’t accompany me on this gig, his place having been taken by a more elaborate Sony camcorder, whose intricacies I am still mastering (exposure and the like).  But Flip will be back when the occasion suits him, I assure my tender-hearted readers who might be anxious about his fate and well-being.

WARMED BY JAZZ

fireside20chatAlthough live jazz gives me more spiritual and emotional pleasure than I can say here, I admit to being hard to please.  Maybe it’s because I have heard so much transcendent music on records (from James P. in 1921 to the newest releases) and in person.  My memory is inconsistent, but I have lasting,sharp recollections of club dates.  The night at Condon’s where Ruby Braff kicked off “I Would Do Most Anything For You” at a wickedly fast tempo and drove the band across the finish line by simple stubborness.  When Benny Morton played the melody of “When You’re Smiling” two feet from my ear.   

So the bar (to use one of a dozen cliches) is set quite high, perhaps impossibly so.  And I am often discontented by my surroundings.  When I’m at a club, I wish the people around me would sit down and be still; when I’m at a concert, I long for the freedom musicians have to take chances and make mistakes they don’t always find while playing in a large hall. 

But something interesting happens — neurological or psychlogical or just idiosyncratic.  When I’m listening to jazz in performance, if I’m not transfixed, critical thoughts pop unbidden into my head.  I don’t invite them and wish they would go away and lie down.  All of these thoughts might seem unfair, of course, coming from someone who still aims for sub-amateur status on any of half-a-dozen instruments.  But I think, “That player has so much technique: when is he going to sing us a song?  Too many notes!”  “You — why don’t you lay out so we can hear what X is playing?”  Or “That tempo is too slow.” 

I don’t say these things aloud — I hope for a long lifespan — but the Beloved has had to put up with a good deal of sotto voce grumbling.  However, here’s the redeeming part I myself don’t understand: give me twelve hours, and the flaws, if they’re not mountainous, fade away.  Emotion recollected in tranquility, perhaps?  But the music takes on a golden sheen, and I think how fortunate I was to have been there. 

Last night was a special occasion: another of Jack Kleinsinger’s “Highlights in Jazz” concerts — celebrating his thirty-sixth anniversary! — held at the congenial Tribeca Arts Center (a pleasant hall in the Borough of Manhattan Community College). 

This, for faithful blog-readers, is the concert that Phil the groundhog was so insistent about.  I’m going to take him a jar of Trader Joe’s almond butter next time I visit him in Pennsylvania, to say thanks.

Jack was energetic, enthusiastic, and loquacious as ever — but all these are good things.  It’s a delight to see someone so genuinely animated by the music he is presenting, and jazz is sadly lacking in such commitment these days.  He told us that next year might be his final season — mournful news — unless more funding comes through.  Are there any wealthy jazz angels out there?  I’ll give you Jack’s phone number.

The first half of the concert was given over to David Ostwald’s Birdland band, augmented by pianist Mark Shane — Jon-Erik Kellso on cornet, Wycliffe Gordon on trombone and vocals, Anat Cohen on clarinet, Howard Alden on banjo, Kevin Dorn on drums, and David on tuba.  LIMEHOUSE BLUES started the good works with some Krupa-flavored tom tom work from Kevin that got us sitting forward expectantly before anyone else had sounded a note.  And this hot version was subtly shaped by a one-chorus duet between Jon-Erik and Mark, perhaps recalling Louis and Earl or Ruby and Dick Hyman.  LONESOME ROAD had a lovely Shane solo and some extraordinary broad-toned playing from Wycliffe, who (for sheer abandon) must be the most accomplished trombonist on the planet.  A rocking YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY (which David dedicated, with a grin, to the concert’s producer) began with the verse — a boon! — and Kellso pulled off a floating Louis bridge, a great suspended arch in the sky, during his second chorus.  (In the middle, there was a fascinating duet for clarinet and piano, one set of lines weaving around the other.)  Since young players don’t get tired, Anat stayed onstage with the rhythm section for a gallop through Morton’s SHREVEPORT STOMP which showed how she and Howard could improvise, conversationally and contrapuntally, at top speed.  For his feature, Wycliffe chose something so familiar that it’s rarely played as itself — I GOT RHYTHM, which gave him an opportunity to sing, something he does with great charm.  During his three vocal choruses, he made his way by great leaps from a respectful reading of the lyrics to great Leo Watson figures.  He stayed at the vocal microphone (with a sheet of lyrics helpfully provided by David) for a brooding WHEN YOUR LOVER HAS GONE, which began and ended with touching four-bar miniatures by Shane and had an interval of moody growling obbligato by Jon-Erik.  They closed the first half with a romp through ATLANTA BLUES (also known as “Make Me A Pallet On Your Floor”) — with a hilariously intent solo by Kevin.

That would have been enough for almost anyone — but the second half provided other delights.  One of them was the presence of Dick Hyman, now 82 or thereabouts, up from Florida, his virtuosity undiminished.  He performed two standards — BODY AND SOUL and IF I COULD BE WITH YOU ONE HOUR TONIGHT (the latter with its pretty verse), showing how fertile his imagination is, how unbounded his energy.  Tatum, Bach, and McKenna, fugues and waltzes all put in appearances, but the result — sprawling and ingenious — was recognizable at every turn as pure Hyman.  In between, he paid tribute to the young man from Davenport with his original THINKING ABOUT BIX.  During his solo set, I became aware that the hall and the listeners were so quiet that the loud sound of Hyman’s tapping foot reverberated throughout the room.  Fats Waller got his nod with AFRICAN RIPPLES — a choice that made the gentleman next to me say happily to his Beloved, “I have the original 78,” beaming.  Hyman’s version was illuminated from within by his own ideas — it wasn’t a copy of the record — with a wonderful bounce.  A pensive, twining duet with Alden (now on guitar) on SOFTLY, IN A MORNING SUNRISE brought us from mid-Thirties Harlem to more harmonically exploratory lands.  It reminded me of one of my favorite recordings, the Pablo “Checkmate” — duets between Joe Pass and Jimmy Rowles. 

Then came the moments I had been waiting for.  I knew Joe Wilder (who will be 87 this month) was scheduled to play duets with Dick, and we could see him in the wings, his horns gleaming, waiting.  He came out and joined the fun for a fast SECRET LOVE, an inquiring, calling-in-the-highlands HOW ARE THINGS IN GLOCCA MORRA?, and SAMBA DE ORFEO.  Joe is a relentless critic of his own playing, and his brow was furrowed at some points, but a Wilder solo with a note or two that cracks is still a work of art — Joe, swimming upstream against the demands of metal tubing, lung power, and embouchure, is my hero. 

And the evening closed (as is Jack’s habit) with everyone on stage for a strutting performance of Waller’s THAT RHYTHM MAN, David Ostwald’s happily unhackneyed choice.  The band was flying, but the best part of this cheerful performance was that Mark and Dick did piano-acrobatics: you take the treble and I’ll take the bass; now, let’s switch; let’s each play sixteen bars.  Splendid, accomplished, and swinging.   

 It was frigid out last night — winds that would have done Coleman Hawkins proud made us all feel vulnerable and under-dressed.  But this concert let us warm ourselves through the music.   They don’t call it HOT JAZZ for nothing.  Highlights all ’round!