Tag Archives: paper ephemera

O.P., IRVING, LOUIS

Last night, while in an eBay reverie, I was grazing through the meadow of Entertainment Memorabilia, sub-section Jazz, sub-sub section Original Autographs, when I found these three artifacts.  To some, they may seem irreplaceable treasures; to others, just weird debris.  The first seller had purchased a huge collection of Danish paper ephemera and added it to his already expansive holdings, the latter laid out for your pleasure here.

I’d never seen an Oscar Pettiford autograph before, and this one is from the last years of his too-short life.  The red diagonals suggest that this is, rather than an autograph for a fan, the return address — upper left corner — taken from an air-mail envelope.  Whether that increases or decreases value, I don’t know.  I haven’t identified the Copenhagen hotel, but since the autograph would be, at latest, from 1960, it is possible the hotel no longer exists:

And here is a very touching and brief remembrance of Oscar with guitarist Attila Zoller — performing Oscar’s THE GENTLE ART OF LOVE in Denmark, perhaps not that far away in time from the envelope above:

Then, something more odd: a photograph of Irving Mills and two men I don’t recognize, inscribed lovingly to film star Dorothea Summers, from whose collection this came:

and a magnified inscription:

Here is a promotional short film (or most of it) from 1931, where Irving Mills introduces three of his bands: Baron Lee and the Blue Rhythm Orchestra; Duke Ellington (with pleasing closeups of Arthur Whetsol), and Cab Calloway, with Al Morgan stealing the scene.  I thought that glimpses of Mills, reading from the script on his desk, would be easier on the nerves than his singing:

Finally, something I found exciting, even though it isn’t inscribed.  Louis Armstrong had a heart attack in June 1959, and I now assume that he received get-well cards from everyone who loved him . . . that’s a-plenty.  I had never seen his singularly Louis thank-you card, and a collector possessed not only the card but a publicity photograph that may have come with it:

I would like you to commit Louis’ poem to memory, please:

Here’s Louis in 1960 on the Bell Telephone Hour — magnificent readings of SUNNY SIDE OF THE STREET, LAZY RIVER, and a heartbreaking SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE A MOTHERLESS CHILD, before a MUSKRAT RAMBLE that puts Louis with a modern version of the Mills Brothers who sing a version of the lyrics from BING AND SATCHMO:

May your happiness increase!

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JOYOUS PAPER EPHEMERA, 1941

I’d never seen this before — a program for Duke Ellington’s JUMP FOR JOY as presented in 1941 at the Mayan Theatre.  Had it been a different world, we would have color sound footage of this production.  At least we have this program and the few recordings.

J4J one

and

J4J two

and

J4J three

and

J4J four

and finally

J4J five

A piece of history — cultural as well as musical.

May your happiness increase!

“THE GREATEST LIVING HOT MUSICIANS”

I’ve been very fortunate to meet generous people through JAZZ LIVES — and a new one is archivist / jazz trombonist Rob Hudson, who works for the Carnegie Hall Archives. 

He found me because of a posting I did on Fats Waller’s rather uneven 1942 concert at the hall, and we chatted about the event, the music, and what recorded evidence remains.  (To my knowledge, only a BLUES in Bb — a duet for Fats and Hot Lips Page, and a HONEYSUCKLE ROSE featuring Max Kaminsky, Bud Freeman, Pee Wee Russell, Eddie Condon, John Kirby, and Gene Krupa have come to light, although I am sure that the concert was recorded in full.)

But back to the Carnegia Hall Archives: I asked Rob what materials were in the vaults relating to my hero (and yours, too) Eddie Condon, and this magical document appeared.  It’s not in the best shape, but it is the poster for the October 14, 1944, Condon concert (Rob told me that this had been used as the backing for another poster in someone’s collection, which strikes me as incredible). 

What’s even more incredible is the collection of signatures.  Some of them have to have been from the Forties and perhaps from a visit to Condon’s club — but since trumpeter Johnny Letman signed and dated his signature “1959,” I imagine a jazz fan bringing this around with him to the clubs (Condon’s, Ryan’s, the Metropole) and asking the musicians, the Mighty, to sign it.

Everyone’s here — from Don Frye to Maxine Sullivan to Frank Newton and Pee Wee Russell: a collection to cherish.  There;s Ralph Sutton, Ellington copyist Tom Whaley, Lee Blair, Harry Carney, Jimmy Crawford, James P. Johnson, Zutty Singleton, Art Tatum (via his rubber stamp), Don Kirkpatrick, Omer Simeon (from the Fifties Wilbur DeParis band) and more.

Thanks to Rob, to the Carnegie Hall Archives, and to Maggie Condon — for permission to share this wonderful piece of paper with you:

Courtesy of the Carnegie Hall Archives

 I’m looking forward to visiting the Archives to see their other treasures — and possibly reporting back to my loyal readers.  The strains of a Condon-organized OLE MISS are in my head . . .

“FOR YOUR PRIVATE COLLECTION”

From the national attic / museum / antique store / informal auction room, eBay:

When bandleaders looked like movie stars!  I’d never seen a picture of Mr. Kahn before, and even if his secretary autographed it, this photograph is a rarity.

In a recent posting, I showed off one of my latest treasured purchases — a Pee Wee Russell 78 of JELLY ROLL and INDIANA on the short-lived Manhattan label.  Here’s the advertising brochure for three 78 sets to be sold at Nick’s — with autographs of the principal players!

Hurry, this is a limited edition.

Mr. Spanier, if you please.

Mr. Mole (born in “the country,” Freeport, Long Island).

Charles Ellsworth Russell, irreplaceable.

Jimmy Rushing didn’t look like he could move around easily (although a film clip with the Basie band shows him to be a very nimble dancer) but this document seems to say otherwise.  Entering Kansas City, Missouri, in 1930 — the beginning of great things for Jimmy and for us.

I never joined a fraternity, so all of this is somewhat mysterious . . . but I would guess that this is St. Louis, circa 1936-7?  I am sure that the college men and women danced to some fine music for $1.75 apiece.

MOODY, MAXINE, MUGGSY, J.D., ERROLL, SLIM

It has its own rhythm, doesn’t it?  Here are the latest delicacies up for bid on eBay.

James Moody, who just left us, with his whimsical signature:

Dear Maxine Sullivan, giving someone her home address, once upon a time:

Kid Muggsy, faithful to the spirit of Joe Oliver to the end:

Jimmy Dorsey, his coiffure gleaming:

Very unusual — an Erroll Garner inscription:

And finally, the uncontrolled and perhaps uncontrollable Bulee “Slim” Gaillard, posing with a more serious young couple, circumstances unknown:

Now . . . shut your eyes and imagine the sound of this collective ensemble.  I hear Maxine carrying the melody line, Moody and Slim improvising vocal counterpoint behind her; Muggsy, Erroll, and Slim keep the rhythm going. 

That should take your mind off of holiday shopping!

PAPER, NOT EPHEMERAL

This piece of paper comes from the collection of Boston jazz aficionado Samuel Prescott, and it’s an absolute Who’s Who of jazz stars who came through that city in the Forties.  The Prescott papers (and discs) are now held by the University of New Hampshire Library, and they took good care of this piece of paper, crowded with signatures of great men and women:

On the back (invisible at the moment) is the autograph of one Duke Ellington.  And here are the names that the librarians found: a good pastime for a rainy day with a magnifying glass: 

Earl ‘Fatha’ Hines (twice).  Al Morgan.  Pete Brown.  Joe Battaglia (piano).  Shirley Mhore (vocal).  Gene Sedric.  Art Hodes.  Vic Dickenson.  J. C. Higginbotham.  Roy Eldridge.  Erskine Hawkins (twice).  Joe Marsala.  Adele Girard.  Jimmy Shirley.  Jess Stacy.  Ev Schwarz (pian0).  John Kirby.  James P. Johnson.  Edmond Hall.  Louis Armstrong.  Billy Kyle.  Bob Wilber.  Frankie Newton.  Willie ‘Bunk’ Johnson (twice).  Baby Dodds.  Johnny Windhurst.  Johnny Field (bass).  Sparky Tomasetti.  Jack Teagarden.  Dick Wellstood.  Pops Foster.  Sidney Bechet.  Sandy J. Williams.  Jimmy Archey.  Howey ‘Peacoo’ Gadboys.  Sidney de Paris.  Rex Stewart.  ‘Wild’ Bill Davison.  Pleasant Joseph.  Henry ‘Red’ Allen.  Milton ‘Mezz’ Mezzrow.  Pee Wee Russell.  Don Kirkpatrick.  Max Kaminsky.  Paul Watson.  Bob Guy.  Charlie Holmes.

Amazing, no?

WHOLLY WRIT

As I see it, here are the three possibilities.

The best thing that might have happened to one of us would have been to play alongside Adrian Rollini in a band.

The next best thing would have been to have heard that band and gotten Rollini’s autograph.  (Extra points if he wrote your name on the piece of paper.)

The next best thing would be to be able to purchase a Rollini autograph:

Now, here’s another example.  See if you can do this one on your own:

If that signature seems tantalizingly elusive, it’s Glenn Miller.

Those two pieces of paper are both for sale (as I write this) in the same eBay lot — the third is a Les Brown autograph.  Stranger things have happened, but I can’t quite think of them at the moment.