Tag Archives: Marc Caparone

“MARGARET, CAN YOU RECALL THE DAYS OF OUR YOUTH?” “YES, DARLING, THEY WERE WONDERFUL”: MARC CAPARONE and CONAL FOWKES (San Diego, Nov. 24, 2018)

Conal Fowkes, piano; Marc Caparone, cornet, at the 2017 San Diego Jazz Fest.

This venerable song — WHEN YOU AND I WERE YOUNG, MAGGIE — is a sweet reminiscence of love that lasts.  It has become an ineradicable part of our popular culture: Exhibit A is a Big Top peanut butter glass (first a jar full of BTPB) devoted to the song:

and

I learned it first, decades ago, when I was young, from Vic Dickenson’s Vanguard version, which I can still play in the mental-emotional jukebox of the mind. But I am grateful that Marc Caparone and Conal Fowkes keep it fresh and green in this century, as they did at the 2018 San Diego Jazz Fest:

Here’s another treasure, created on the spot.  There are thousands of versions of George and Ira Gershwin’s vernacular yelp of delight, ‘S’WONDERFUL, but the one this reminds me of is an early-Fifties session for Vanguard, led by Mel Powell, supervised by John Hammond, featuring Mel, Buck Clayton, Henderson Chambers, Ed Hall, Steve Jordan, Walter Page, and Jimmy Crawford.  (That’s me applauding: if you have to ask why, you need to go back to Remedial Swing.)

Marc and Conal — what a pair of glorious musical artists, creating worlds of sound, rollicking and tender, for our pleasure.

May your happiness increase!

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AN ALL-YOU-CAN-HEAR BUFFET: THE REDWOOD COAST MUSIC FESTIVAL (May 9-12, 2019)

When I used to teach college, I would sometimes harangue my students about the money they spent, and ask them to consider before their next purchase, how many hours of work this item cost them, but more importantly, how much lasting happiness it would bring.  I made a conscious decision to invest in jazz.  Good music, improvised on the spot, pays immense emotional dividends that (let us say) new kitchen counters or other indulgences would not.

There’s also the Carpe Diem factor.  I hear so many fellow enthusiasts saying, “Wow.  I’ll certainly have to go there next year,” and then the “there” evaporates like a drop of water in a hot iron skillet because the jazz party costs too much to run year after year.  So a listener’s willingness to invest in jazz, to tear themselves away from the computer means that the festival goes on or the club stays open.

Carpe Diem is also personal — if you’re twenty-seven, please skip this passage.  This music has been one of the centers of my life for more than fifty years now, and since I know I don’t have another fifty, I am determined to experience as much of it as possible, while it’s here, while I have some income, and while my body cooperates.

Thus it delights me to invite you along to what is obviously a Humdinger and a Lollapalooza of a music festival:

and a listing of bands that, for me, induces a sweet vertigo:

JAZZ LIVES readers will see that a whole host of my West Coast secular deities are here, and this listing doesn’t include all the sidemen and women.  I encourage you all to do several things.  The first, and it’s not idle, is to create a mental space that includes a visit to this festival on May 9-12.  You have to envision something before it becomes a possibility, then a reality.  How you deal with the tangible obligations is your choice and it would be impudent for me to suggest borrowing from Hendrik and Melisandre’s college funds, but you can think of something.

Enough urging.  Please visit the RCMF website — with videos and biographies of musicians.  And here is the RCMF Facebook page.

It’s too soon for a complete schedule of performances to be posted, but I know that it will be.  I have heard — among other delights — words about a Charlie Christian tribute, a Walter Donaldson performance, an evocation of the Louis Armstrong All-Stars . . . . Those aren’t the usual festival fare, and I cherish them.  Dance competitions, also.  Let that sink in.

And for those who realize there is life away from the stage, the RCMF takes place in one of the most beautiful landscapes in the world — the Humboldt County redwood forest: details here.

But you’d like to hear some music, correct?  For once, I won’t easily gratify that desire for free through the computer.  Heaven knows there’s enough to be had.  For a change, consider leaving your chair, shutting your phone off in favor of a jaunt into the redwoods.  And an amazing cornucopia of musical experiences.

May your happiness increase!

IT HAPPENS IN MONTEREY (March 1-2-3, 2019): The JAZZ BASH BY THE BAY

For those who love the music, this reminder may be superfluous.  But there are always new people whom we hope to attract into the world of jazz and dance for great fun.  So, first, here is the Bash’s Facebook page, and here is their website.  Several truly pertinent facts — from personal experience.  March in Monterey is balmy, and I recall it as shirt-sleeve / eat gelato with Italians weather.  All of the music at the Bash happens under one roof, on several floors of the same building, and there is (as I recall) an elevator.  There are eight venues — which, loosely translated, means an immense number of choices, enough to produce vertigo.  Approximately 154 sets of music from Friday morning to Sunday afternoon.  Seven dance floors.  All under one roof, a fact worth repeating.

There are also a few names that didn’t fit on the poster, people you’d know and applaud.  Jacob Rex Zimmerman, Steve Pikal, Clint Baker, Jeff Hamilton, Paul Hagglund, Sam Rocha, Chris Calabrese, Sue Kroninger, Ed Metz, Jerry Krahn, Howard Miyata, GROOVUS, Don Neely, and more.  I expect that the final schedule will be posted soon on the website so that people like me can start planning strategy with brightly colored highlighters.

A little personal history: I encountered the Jazz Bash by the Bay in 2011, on my first visit to California — out of the womb, that is — and this is what I encountered.  Dawn Lambeth had a bad cold, but even congested, she sounds thoroughly endearing: with her, are Clint Baker (drums); Marc Caparone (cornet); Howard Miyata (trombone); Mike Baird (clarinet); Katie Cavera (guitar, banjo); Paul Mehling (bass):

And another piece of vintage joy from 2011, featuring Katie Cavera, the 2019 Musician of the Year, in the center, with Clint Baker, Paul Mehling, and John Reynolds on various banjos — with Marc Caparone on bass and surprises (Clint has a surprise for us, too), and Ralf Reynolds on washboard:

Now, this blogpost isn’t a Trip Down Memory Lane, although I must say I nearly went down the largest rabbit-hole I can imagine when I started searching my own videos to see when I’d first visited Monterey.  I couldn’t believe: “Wow, you recorded that?  And THAT?”  The air was thick with immodesty and gratitude.

No, this is to remind people what glories happen at Monterey, and will happen in less than two months: March 1, 2, 3 of this year.  And — let us leave subtlety aside for those who need it — to encourage people to get out of their chairs and be at the Bash.  See you there — maybe in the elevator or rapt in the first row.

May your happiness increase!

WHERE A MELLOW MOON IS ALWAYS SHINING

Billy Hill, 1933

Billy Hill knew how to write songs that were easy to hum (although not always easy to sing) and that stuck lovingly in our ears, memories, and hearts: THE GLORY OF LOVE, THE LAST ROUNDUP, WAGON WHEELS, EMPTY SADDLES, HAVE YOU EVER BEEN LONELY?, and THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN. And he breaks stereotypes.  He was born in Boston and died there at 41, and although he spent the most productive decade of his life in New York, another of the Tin Pan Alley demigods, he seems to have deeply understood Americana in much the same way Willard Robison did.  His songs touch us.

I’ve been thinking about cabins these days.  The soundtrack is his 1933 melody:

The lyrics are somewhat sad, but Hill and his peers knew, I think, that songs with a center of heartbreak — that would be repaired when the lovers reunited — were more likely to find audiences than songs saying “My baby and me, we’re so happy,” perhaps because of demographics: more people were yearning than satisfied.  Or that’s my theory for the moment.  However, he did write THE GLORY OF LOVE, so he was emotionally even-handed.

Here’s a version I fell in love with immediately this morning, by the San Francisco-based singer / guitarist Sylvia Herold.  I am sorry I didn’t encounter her in “my California period,” because she can really get inside this song and others:

She has a most endearing little cry in her voice, and she swings.  I knew I loved this performance because I am now playing it for the sixth time.

Here are my heroes Marc Caparone and Ray Skjelbred, from the 2015 San Diego Jazz Fest, introduced by the splendid singer Dawn Lambeth:

Now we move to the most Honoured Ancestors.  Please note that they are not presented in some value-hierarchy: they all move me deeply in their own ways.

Mildred Bailey with the Dorsey Brothers Orchestra:

Al Bowlly (I prefer this less elaborate version):

Mister Strong:

Mister Crosby:

I ask myself, “Why are you in tears?” But I know why.

The soul’s home can be an urban apartment, or right across from the BP gas station, but with the right vibrations it can become a dear rustic haven.

May your happiness increase!

“HOTTER THAN A FORTY-FIVE!”(PART TWO): CARL SONNY LEYLAND / MARC CAPARONE (Scott Joplin International Ragtime Festival, June 2, 2018)

Two hot poets.  Two brothers at play.  Two bold frolicking explorers.  Choose your metaphor: pianist-singer Carl Sonny Leyland and cornetist / trumpeter-singer Marc Caparone are friends and heroes, so it was an immense pleasure to see and hear them out in the open, joyously rambling all around.  Here is the first part of their duo set performed on July 31, 2018, at the Scott Joplin International Ragtime Festival in Sedalia, Missouri.

And here are four more beauties:

INDIANA BOOGIE WOOGIE:

DUSTY RAG:

MELANCHOLY:

SONG OF THE WANDERER:

I shared WANDERER with scholar-musician Richard Salvucci, whose verdict was “That is the way it is done,” and I concur thoroughly.  Carl and Marc will be reunited for our joy on the April-May 2019 STOMPTIME cruise: details here.

May your happiness increase! 

“LET THEM SEND OUT ALARMS”: DAWN LAMBETH, CONAL FOWKES, MARC CAPARONE at the SAN DIEGO JAZZ FEST (November 23, 2018)

Dawn Lambeth, Conal Fowkes, Marc Caparone, at the 2017 San Diego Jazz Fest

We live by Siri, by the GPS.  Wouldn’t it be nice to toss all those useful but restrictive parental stand-ins that want so badly to show us the way and rebuke us if we wander?

Here’s a musical version of that perhaps subversive suggestion: the 1942 song — music by Jimmy McHugh, words by Frank Loesser, which slyly suggests that the way to get to the desired end is by choosing to live by instinct, serendipitously:

 

The musical actors in this play — showing us the way to pleasure, living it rather than instructing us — are Dawn Lambeth, vocal; Conal Fowkes, piano; Marc Caparone, cornet.  And all of this happened on the morning of November 23, 2018, at the 39th San Diego Jazz Fest, a wonderful weekend:

Try it.  Who knows what glories are there to be discovered by accident, what gifts the universe will give if you surrender to it?  Here endeth the sermon for today.

May your happiness increase!

THE ART OF THE DUET: MARC CAPARONE / CONAL FOWKES at the SAN DIEGO JAZZ FEST (Nov. 24, 2018)

Conal Fowkes, piano; Marc Caparone, cornet, at the 2017 San Diego Jazz Fest.

Back by popular demand!  The video I posted two days ago of Marc Caparone, cornet, and Conal Fowkes, piano, playing PRISONER OF LOVE, garnered a good deal of enthusiastic response.  You can see it here.  And here are two more from that same day at the San Diego Jazz Fest — most heroically, musicians improvising at (I think) 11 AM.  Very hot, very noble.

The Gershwin classic, now rarely played by improvisers, STRIKE UP THE BAND:

and the 1936 pop tune irrevocably associated with Billie and Bunny, NO REGRETS:

What playful heroes these two are, and how they create surprising joys.

May your happiness increase!