Tag Archives: Max Fleischer

“YOU CAN GO AS FAR AS YOU LIKE WITH ME.”

JAZZ LIVES has not changed its nature to advertise automobiles, but this is one instance where the music related to the car is memorable to those who remember and I hope it will become irresistible to those who have never heard it.

Sheet music, 1931

From the subversive geniuses at the Fleischer Studios, in the early Thirties, this tuneful piece of advertising (as old as 1905) — thanks to Janette Walker:

I always hear the invitation of the lyrics as not too subtly lascivious, because I dimly remember the statistics that showed the birth rate in this country ascended once more people had automobiles . . . but the couple in the song is also headed for marriage, lest you worry that this blog condones sinful behavior.

Thanks to Emrah Erken, the beautiful transfer of the Jean Goldkette Orchestra’s 1927 version:

and the first take:

and a sweet-hot version from this century, by Ray Skjelbred’s First Thursday Band at the Puget Sound Traditional Jazz Society on December 18, 2011, with Ray Skjelbred, piano, leader; Chris Tyle, trumpet; Steve Wright, reeds; Jake Powel, banjo; Dave Brown, string bass; Mike Daugherty, drums, vocal:

and a two-minute wartime coda, reminding me of the days when music was our common language, when everyone knew the words and the tune:

The song suggests that one could have fun being with one’s sweetheart, which is always a wonderful goal.  The couple in the Oldsmobile were even speaking to each other — cellphones not being in evidence when the song was new.

Sheet music, 1905

Incidentally, this post is in honor of Mr. and Mrs. Brown, who understand.

May your happiness increase!

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LIFE-ENHANCING: “DEATH IN THE AFTERNOON” (September 10, 2016)

No, not Hemingway’s DEATH IN THE AFTERNOON in its most literal sense. Lively hedonism, with no animals harmed.

PULLING FOR HIM

I’d not heard of Ward 8 Events before, but their video, cleverly mixing Fleischer-surrealism, hot dance, food and drink in nicely measured portions, convinced me that my life had been arid and bland before this discovery.

They create “multi-disciplinary events unified around a single theme” — but that description isn’t enough.  “What they do” is artistic without being pretentious, well-researched without being staid, and it includes things we love: fine food and drink, tap-dancing, hot jazz, and more. 

This event is on Saturday, September 10, from 2-6 PM, and here is their description.

“Entitled ‘Death in the Afternoon’ and inspired by the Prohibition Era, the event will take place in a secret backroom of the acclaimed restaurant Raoul’s in Soho, and will include a collection of restaged bootlegger portraits by New York-based photographer David White, performances by The Grand St. Stompers plus a tap dancer from the Downtown Dance Factory, and a special menu of craft cocktails and passed food from Raoul’s chef David Honeysett.”

Raoul’s is a highly-rated French restaurant in Soho, at 180 Prince Street, New York City.

If you’ve never heard or heard of Gordon Au or of his Grand Street Stompers, please click here.  (Talk about “life-enhancing”!)

I’d asked the organizer, Fay Leshner, two idle questions to satisfy my curiosities, and her answers are so pointed and witty that I reprint them here:

With “passed food,” we mean “passed” in the sense of distributed by someone else, not in the sense of kidney stones…that said, these are more than your standard cucumber-slice-on-a-saltine – we’ll be offering appetizers and other selections from Raoul’s acclaimed chef, and while it won’t be a sit-down meal I can promise that it will nevertheless stand on its own merits.

As for “Death in the Afternoon” – while we aren’t fans of bullfighting, we are deep admirers of Hemingway’s tireless commitment to the lost art of daydrinking, and we feel that this event will evoke that freewheeling daytime appreciation of the creative spirit (and creatively-mixed spirits) that Ernest and his contemporaries so poetically portrayed in both their art and their lives.

For me, the high point of this event will be another opportunity to hear Gordon Au’s superb band, the Grand Street Stompers, a group I’ve chronicled on JAZZ LIVES since its inception . . . everything else will be gloriously atmospheric additions.

For more information, visit here.  To purchase tickers, direct your nicely manicured fingers here.

May your happiness increase!

MARK CANTOR’S CELLULOID IMPROVISATIONS (JAZZ ON FILM)

celluloidimprovisations

The renowned (diligent but never stuffy) scholar of jazz on film, Mark Cantor, is also a generous fellow, and he has launched a new website.

There, you can see and hear Fats Waller, Joe Marsala and Adele Girard, Louis Armstrong, Mary Lou Williams, the Washboard Serenaders, Andy Secrest, Benny Carter, Connee Boswell, Red Nichols, Lionel Hampton, Harry James, Dave Brubeck, Punch Miller, Lady Will Carr, Ethel Merman and Johnny Green, the Max Fleischer team of surrealists, Leo Watson, Teddy Bunn, Ray Eberle, Sidney Bechet, Thelma White, Buck and Bubbles, Maude Mills, Gerry Mullingan, the MJQ, Jack Teagarden, Buddy Rich, Oscar Peterson, Bill Robinson, Louis Jordan, Joe Williams, as well as groups and musicians we might never have heard about — the daring Sandra among them — and a few mysteries: unidentified players just waiting for you to recognize them. (If you are interested in footage of “the girls in the band,” you will find some here as well.)

Some of these films and excerpts are familiar, but many are rare: offered here for your viewing in the best available prints with good sound and clear images.

May your happiness increase! 

CANTOR’S CELLULOID CAVALCADE IS COMING! (March 23, 2013 in San Francisco)

Mark Cantor, jazz film scholar, is one of those rare beings animated by knowledge and generosity in equal portions.  I’ve never met him in person, but I’ve been delighted by what he knows about jazz and popular musicians of the last century in their often uncredited film appearances . . . and by his willingness to share, not only data but the films themselves.  Evidence of the latter can be found right here on his YouTube channel.

On Saturday, March 23, 2013, at 8 PM, Mark will be offering another one of his famous jazz film programs — this one so rich with material it has a double title: STOMPIN’ AT THE SAVOY / SWING, SWING, SWING.  Mark’s films will concentrate on the great bands and singers who either performed at Harlem’s famed Savoy Ballroom or who should have: Louis, Ella, Chick, the Savoy Sultans, Erskine Hawkins, Basie, Duke, BG, Bob Chester, and some rarities that can’t be seen elsewhere.  The place is the Jewish Community Center of San Francisco’s Kanbar Hall, 3200 California St., San Francisco, CA 94118 (415-292-1233).  For ticket information, click here or here.

The Beloved and I will be there, smiling at the screen and at Mark.  Come join us!

Just in case you’ve never heard of Mark, and wonder whether his collection is worth a trip from your apartment, I present here two of his (annotated) short films that I love.  Neither will be on the March 23 bill, which is all the more reason to share them here.

SONG SHOPPING (with Ethel Merman, Johnny Green, the bouncing ball and the usual absurdist / violent Max Fleischer cartoon antics — 1936:

THE CAPITOLIANS (directed by Walt Roesner, 1928) — a must-see for anyone who likes spectacle or hot jazz / dance music or both:

And here’s a happy review of Mark’s 2012 show.

May your happiness increase.

THE MILLS BROTHERS, 1932

You’ll see that in this 1932 short film, made my Max Fleischer, the animated portion satirizes “television” and “channel surfing,” long before those were commonplace.  The Fleischer sense of humor wasn’t gentle: every ethnic stereotype gets mocked here, along with the metamorphosing cats, dogs, and frying eggs.  But when the ball starts bouncing at the end, I defy you to keep from singing along.  These “four boys and a guitar” are truly original, truly irreplaceable.  (Louis, Coleman Hawkins, and Vic Dickenson loved them, and they swung more cohesively than many jazz groups.)

JAZZ FESTIVAL: BETTY BOOP, DON REDMAN, EDDIE CONDON, LESTER YOUNG

Like you, I tried to imagine all those players assembled in one place and failed.  But everything is possible on YouTube.   Melissa Collard called my attention to the Don Redman / Betty Boop clip, circa 1932-33.

Has anyone written a history of Max and Dave Fleischer and associates?  I know there are Betty Boop fanciers, but I wonder about Fleischer’s choosing famous African-American jazz musicians and their bands in his cartoons.  Did he love the music?  Or was it because he could get these bands and players (think of Louis, Cab, and an uncredited Luis Russell ensemble) fairly inexpensively?  Anyway, here is I HEARD:

The opening theme is CHANT OF THE WEED — the vipers’ theme song, punctuated by wood blocks and the oceanic swaying on beautifully-dressed musicians.  Then we enter the deliciously surrealistic world of the Never Mine — the noon whistle eating its lunch, the beaver cooking pancakes on its tail.  Not to mention the whole peristaltic underground travel system.  All of this while Redman himself sings HOW’M I DOIN’?  I hope he didn’t mind being transformed on film into a canine member of the waitstaff.  Betty’s vocal (presumably that is Mae Questel) is also accompanied by a miniature mixed choir who pop in and out of the staircase in time.

When the lunch hour is through (note how that whistle lets everyone know) all the miners reverse their steps — going back under the shower which now rains down filth so they are suitably attired for the mine — to the strains of I HEARD.  Don’t miss the cat-telephone-switchboard while Claude Jones, Ed Inge, and Bob Carroll have brief solo spots before Don’s vocal.  It’s hard to keep up with the action of a terrifying descent down an elevator shaft (Betty, characteristically, loses her dress for a moment), ghosts playing baseball with a bomb — all the nightmare anyone could imagine while the Redman band plays goblin music.  But everything ends well — the bomb does the miners’ work for them and they can go home to the strains of WEED, which is perhaps an in-joke here.

These cartoons happily mix the surreal and the swinging, the wild camera angles anticipating later films.

After that, almost anything would seem sedate.  However, an Eddie Condon group (circa 1952) does its best in real time, no animation, working out on FIDGETY FEET with Wild Bill Davison, Cutty Cutshall, Ed Hall, Gene Schroeder, Condon himself, an off-camera Jack Lesberg, and Cliff Leeman.  (I was reminded of this and the last clip by Loren Schoenberg.)

The Mob seems to be doing a gig on an aircraft carrier, but that’s of less import than the fine sound and the beautiful interplay of this group.  They had performed FIDGETY FEET thousands of times at the club, so the routines are razor-sharp in performance, but what I delight in here is the collective exuberance, particularly that rhythm section.  Cliff Leeman!

And watching a very expert and enthusiastic Gene Schroeder makes us remember just how much piano he played, night after night, without anyone paying sufficient attention.  (He made one 78 session, four songs, as a leader, for the Black and White label, in 1944, but he deserved more.)  And Condon himself, so often slyly categorized as someone who talked more than played and drank more than he talked, shows how he directed and drove this band.  Imperishable stuff, fierce and compact at the same time.

Finally, how about seeing — not just hearing — Lester Young play POLKA DOTS AND MOONBEAMS?

The rhythm section on this Art Ford telecast (from 1958, I believe) is Ray Bryant on a terrible piano, a happy Vinnie Burke on bass, and an unacknowledged drummer who sweeps his brushes most respectfully.  Yes, the clip is out of synch, but that adds to the poignant dreaminess of the performance, with Rex Stewart wandering in the shot.  Since there’s so little Lester on film, this is even more precious.

What follows suggests that no one — at the moment — recognized how beautiful a performance it was, or perhaps it was just that Art Ford (and his passel or posse of jazz critics at home, ready to call in) had to “keep it rolling.”  Sylvia Syms, with the same rhythm and a perky Rex Stewart offstage, wisely change the mood.  Who would be foolish enough to follow Lester in the same lovely, mournful mood?

All the Olympians . . . .