Tag Archives: Ruby Braff

MEMORIZE THESE NAMES: YOUNGBLOODS WHO CREATE LYRICAL SWING PLEASURE (January 11, 2019)

I would ordinarily wait to post this but I think everyone needs to take a dip in the Lagoon of Joy.  There’s no lifeguard needed because the only danger one might encounter might be excessive grinning and head-bobbing.  The reason?

Here’s SWEETHEARTS ON PARADE, the love-child of Louis Armstrong and Carmen Lombardo (only figuratively) performed in the most delicate swinging manner by three Youngbloods: Guillermo Perata, cornet; Fernando Montardit, guitar; Ivan Chapuis, string bass.  Recorded in Buenos Aires, on January 11, 2019.  That’s 2019.  That’s RIGHT NOW.  Let that sink in, please?

I’ve had the true good fortune to meet Fernando at The Ear Inn: he makes me think of George Van Eps, while the other two brilliances summon up Ruby Braff and Milt Hinton, among others.  Gorgeous music.  It falls on the ear like loving words.  More, please?

May your happiness increase!

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A CHRISTMAS PRESENT FROM GUILLERMO PERATA and FRIENDS (thanks to JULIO)

I don’t come from the tradition of presents under a tree, but it’s always lovely to be surprised by something delightful.  Although what follows needs no unwrapping, I know you’ll enjoy it.  Explication follows:

Your ears will tell you what — easy unaffected swing in the best Ruby Braff / Scott Hamilton manner, improvisations on a song that no one plays anymore (Vic Dickenson loved it).  But who are these youthful masters?  Guillermo Perata, cornet; Guido Baucia, tenor saxophone; Fili Savloff, guitar; Diego Rodríguez, string bass; Eloy Michelini, drums.  And this was recorded in Buenos Aires a mere four days ago, on December 21.  Dee-lightful, to quote Louis.

I can’t take any credit here: my friend Julio Schwarz Andrade laid the good sounds on me this very morning via Facebook.  Bless him, and bless these fellows.  And a personal / sentimental note: I heard this song in my childhood from my father, born in 1915.  He’s no longer in this neighborhood, but I think he would have been pleased by this rendition and would have sung along.  And tomorrow, the 26th, was his birthday.  So there’s a lovely long tangled skein of father-son love and memory along with the music.  As it should be, perhaps.

Theme music for my own sentimental journey, and maybe one of yours:

The two other creators in this video are Natalio Sued, tenor saxophone; Luri Molina, string bass.  What splendid music!

And the cyber-details so essential these days: here‘s Guillermo’s Facebook page, and here‘s his YouTube channel, to which I’ve subscribed.  I always have room in my heart for lyrical melodic swing like this.

May your happiness increase!

STATE OF THE ART: DALTON RIDENHOUR and EVAN ARNTZEN (Scott Joplin International Ragtime Festival, Sedalia, Missouri: June 2, 2018)

Dalton Ridenhour, photograph by Aidan Grant

Duet playing in any genre is difficult — making two into one while keeping the individuals’ individualities afloat.  Improvised duet playing, as you can imagine, might be the most wonderful soaring dance of all but it is fraught with the possibility of disaster.  Can we agree on a tempo?  Is one of us rushing or dragging?  Do we agree on the changes?  Do we play the tag at the end of every chorus?  Do we change key for the final chorus?  Or, as Vic Dickenson said, “How do you want to distribute the bounces?”

Evan Arntzen, photograph by Tim Cheeney

But I am sure that some of my most enthralling moments have been as an open-mouthed spectator at some duets: Louis Armstrong and Earl Hines or Buck Washington, Al Cohn and Jimmie Rowles; Ruby Braff and Ellis Larkins; Ruby and Dick Hyman; Vic and Ralph Sutton; Eddie Lang and Lonnie Johnson; Zoot Sims and Bucky Pizzarelli, Andrew Oliver and David Horniblow, Marc Caparone and Ray Skjelbred . . . . and and and.  Now I add to that list the two fellows photographed above . . . on the basis of two songs in concert.

Here are two lovely examples of how improvised duet playing — by two people, expert and intuitive — can touch our hearts while we marvel at the risks taken and the immense rewards.  Pianist Dalton Ridenhour was playing a solo set at the Scott Joplin International Ragtime Festival in Sedalia, Missouri, and gave us a surprise by inviting his colleague and neighbor, clarinetist Evan Arntzen, to the stage for a dozen memorable minutes.

The tender and evocative THAT OLD FEELING:

The song I call CHANGES MADE (and then someone insists that THERE’LL BE SOME CHANGES MADE is the properly pious title . . . . what-ever):

I dream of a venue and an occasion where Dalton and Evan could play as long as they wanted . . .

May your happiness increase!

OH, HOW THEY SWING! (Part One): DANNY TOBIAS, WARREN VACHÉ, PHILIP ORR, PAT MERCURI, JOE PLOWMAN (September 22, 2018: 1867 Sanctuary, Ewing, New Jersey)

I love that I live about an hour from the jazz-metropolis that is New York City, but I will drive for hours when the music beckons.  It did last Saturday, when brassmen Danny Tobias and Warren Vaché joined with Philip Orr, piano; Joe Plowman, string bass; Pat Mercuri, guitar, for a wonderful afternoon of acoustic improvisations at the lovely 1867 Sanctuary Arts and Culture Center in Ewing, New Jersey.  (101 Scotch Road will stay in my car’s GPS for that reason.) Here’s some evidence — thanks to the very subtle photographer Lynn Redmile — to document the scene:

 

 

 

 

 

 

and the two Swing perpetrators:

It’s an immense compliment to the melodic swinging inventiveness of this ad hoc quintet, that their music requires no explanation.  But what is especially touching is the teamwork: when portrayed in films, trumpet players are always trying to outdo each other.  Not here: Danny and Warren played and acted like family, and a particularly loving branch.  They have very individual voices, but if I said that the approving ghosts up in the rafters were Ruby Braff, Joe Wilder, Kenny Davern, and Tony DiNicola, no one would object.  Phil, Joe, and Pat listened, responded, and created with characteristic grace.  Thanks to Bob and Helen Kull, the guiding spirits of the 1867 Sanctuary, for making us all so welcome with such fine music.

It was a memorable afternoon, and I wish only that this was a regular occasion, to be documented by CD releases and general acclamation.  We can hope.

I have a dozen beauties to share with you.  Here are the first four.

Irving Berlin’s ALL BY MYSELF, and someone in the band breaks into song, most effectively:

Another Berlin treasure, CHANGE PARTNERS:

Edgar Sampson’s paean to hope, IF DREAMS COME TRUE:

To celebrate the start of Fall, AUTUMN LEAVES:

May your happiness increase!

EVERY NOTE A BRUSH-STROKE: CHRIS MADSEN / CLARK SOMMERS: “THE DUET BOOK”

When I was in my teens, I remember a television program on not-yet-PBS where a Japanese ink-painter showed us how to draw Mount Fuji in a very few brush-strokes.  I have over simplified it in memory, reducing it to two upward slopes with some detail in the middle, and it remains in my mind’s eye. Happily, I threw out my very limited attempts in blue ballpoint pen, but the experience stays with me.  The artist didn’t “simplify” his subject, but his airy, dancing brush-strokes made its immovable solidity nearly translucent.

Here is a more elaborate version, beautiful in itself and as metaphor:

Although I could not have verbalized it then and words still seem heavier than the experience, the artist was doing with his brush what jazz musicians do, making familiar melody, harmony, and rhythm take flight.  He was improvising on Mt. Fuji and his improvisations enhanced it.

As an adolescent deeply under the spell of the music, I encountered the 1945 live recordings of Don Byas and Slam Stewart, performing INDIANA and I GOT RHYTHM as if the music was brand-new, the results joyous — soaring and solid both.  Then, I didn’t analyze the results as a musicologist-chemist would, noting what percentage Swing, what percentage Bop, what percentage Unclassifiable Solids, and I leave such activities to those who care to, working in their basement laboratories.  The music was dense but airy: angels chatting about clouds.

A few years later, I was privileged to see Ruby Braff in performance, often leading a quartet.  One of his architecturally spacious ideas was to play duets within the quartet — creating a series of small orchestras — so I was dazzled by Ruby in duet with string bassists George Mraz, Milt Hinton, George Duvivier, and Michael Moore.

Fast forward to NOW, for beauty that transcends “less is more.”

I present to you four duets by Chris Madsen, tenor saxophone, and Clark Sommers, string bass — an enterprise they are calling “The Duet Book.”  For those of you who might mutter, “WHAT can you do with a tenor and a bass?” my answer turns out to be, “Everything.”

One, DONNA LEE, authorship debated:

Two, TRICROTISM, by Oscar Pettiford:

Three, MOVE, by Denzil Best:

Four, ORNITHOLOGY, by one C. Parker:

The beautiful videography — steady, attentive, catching every detail of sound and image — is by Brian Schwab.  Here is Chris’s Facebook page, and Clark’s is here.

One more video remains, and I wish this series were ongoing, because I cherish these effusions, where two gifted individualists show us what loving community looks and sounds like, passing the lead, being completely supportive, having fun while knowing that the serious work of life is being done.

We could say, “I wish young musicians would study these videos,” but I’d add, “Yes, young dancers, playwrights, poets, teachers, painters . . . .”

And if any member of the jazz hierarchy mutters, “Oh, they’re just playing bebop,” I would reply, “Do, please, Sir or Madam, leave this place and come back in forty years.  Devote yourself to the study of beauty, and while you’re at it, work at growing up.”

Forget Mount Fuji, forget metaphor: these air-creations are profound, their beauties not absorbed in one casual hearing.  Blessings on Messrs. Madsen, Sommers, and Schwab: quiet gracious masters all.

Postscript from September 14, 2018: Here’s Chapter Five —

May your happiness increase!

COUNTING OUR BLESSINGS: PETRA VAN NUIS and DENNIS LUXION, “BECAUSE WE’RE NIGHT PEOPLE”

Photograph by Bill Klewitz

Hearing the fine singer Petra van Nuis make music is always a pleasure: her delicate, incisive way inside the songs reveals new shadings and gleams.  For those of us who don’t get to Chicago, here’s good news — a new CD by Petra and the splendidly subtle pianist Dennis Luxion, BECAUSE WE’RE NIGHT PEOPLE.

I had the good fortune to write notes for the CD, which you can read below.  But first . . . as they say . . . here is a video of six songs from the session, so you have the evidence generously offered to you:

BECAUSE WE’RE NIGHT PEOPLE Petra van Nuis and Dennis Luxion
The first thing you’ll notice about this CD, even before you start the music, is that its title is a sideways assertion, responding to a question that we weren’t able to hear but must assume was asked. That’s so appropriate, because the music Petra and Dennis create subtly answers some questions but raises others. Their lovely interplay will stay with you long after the disc is over. They are two very different artists, but their individualities never clash.

I was surprised by the title, because I’ve seen Petra functioning nicely in daylight. Another reason to admire her. She says, “By nature and work requirements Dennis and I are bona fide night people — thus, this collection. We love the slower tempos. The dreamy, moody material inspires us. We chose these songs to portray the varied emotions that occur in that magical suspended time after midnight and before the early bird’s chirp asks why you’re still awake. The bird can’t know if you’re up because you want to be or because you can’t sleep. Night can be a lonely time of reflection, rumination, and worry. But seductive night breezes bring creative insights, romance, and freedom!”

And Dennis takes his own solo, “Some night people are attracted to the activity, social scene, and music of bars and nightclubs. But others are attracted to the relative quiet, solitude, and intimacy that can be found at night, a time of introspection. As a musician, I often find myself amid the first type of night people, whereas personally of the second type. Hopefully both are represented on this recording.”

Incidentally, these words should not lead you to think that this CD is musical Ambien, over the counter. Yes, the tempos are often dreamy, but this CD is full of quiet surprises that will keep your ears awake: consider the perky MOONLIGHT SAVING TIME. On every track, Petra dances over the rhythm, playing with the line, directing her own small-scale but intense dramas. Her singing is ever so sweetly based on speech patterns – her phrasing isn’t constrained by the beats on the printed page. Rather, the arcs of melody and emotion shape her idea of the lyric line.

And Dennis is gracious and musically wise: his accompaniment is the Master’s Art, his introductions and solos beautiful translucent fabric hangings (hear him on YOU AND THE NIGHT).

When I started the CD for the very first listening, I didn’t think of Sinatra’s gloomy “It’s quarter to three”; rather, the analogue was the sessions Ruby Braff and Ellis Larkins made. Like them, Dennis and Petra are two singular souls allied by a deep purpose, to make us feel, to make us remember our nocturnal lives in their songs. Notice the references to “conversation” in the notes below: they generously support each other but don’t interrupt each other’s utterances. You can hear them grinning at particularly felicitous turns of phrase. Petra points out, “Dennis is a perfect duo partner because of his desire to listen and his ability to focus. Playing with him is akin to having a meaningful conversation where the other person not only hears you, but gets you. A sensitive instrumentalist who cares about lyrics, Dennis is a co-storyteller complimenting the mood of each song in his expressive, thoughtful way.” And he’s subversively hilarious: he begins NO MOON AT ALL with a wink at IN WALKED BUD.

Dennis isn’t about to be outdone in courtesy, “I love working with Petra. She always has a clear idea of what she wants to do with a song, but is flexible and adapts to what is happening around her so the music can be organic and breathe. She finds songs that are way off the beaten path but well worth hearing.”

Speaking of song choices, for those radicals who don’t start at the first track and follow obediently to the end, I’d urge you to begin with WHILE MY LOVER SLEEPS, a wonderful song that Petra first heard on a Chet Baker recording. In the early Eighties, Dennis spent several years in Europe performing with Chet Baker, although Chet had stopped doing the song by then. When I heard it for the first time, I wanted only to hear it again, right away.

Very few of the songs on this disc are predictable (read: “overdone”) choices, but they all become memorable quickly. Three are particularly remarkable, and Petra notes, “The song that folks have most likely never heard is ‘The Piano Player (A Thousand and One Saloons).’ The music was written by the exquisite singer/pianist Meredith Ambrosio after she was given the lyric by a fan, Bob Dowd. The song captures the desperate loneliness and monotony of playing nightly in venues where the situation can quickly devolve as the drinks flow and the air thickens with smoke (thankfully not since the smoking ban!). The lyric also mentions the ‘little glow’ that comes from fulfilling musical experiences and sympathetic listeners who make it all worthwhile. Another tune that may be unfamiliar is ‘Night People’ from the short lived Broadway musical about the Beat Generation, ‘The Nervous Set.’ I adore Dennis’ treatment: he gets a real Bill Evans feel on his solo. I think the lyrics inspire him, and he can certainly relate when he co-leads the weekly jam session at Chicago’s famed Green Mill every Friday night/Saturday morning, from 1-3:40 am! One final obscurity is Mancini’s ‘Shadows of Paris’ which plays during the opening credits of the Pink Panther flick ‘A Shot In The Dark.’ The waltz time, minor key, and mysterious lyrics drew me in.”

How did this CD come to be? Petra says, “Dennis asked if I’d be interested in recording together! He didn’t care which tunes I chose; his only stipulation was that it would be duo. Dennis adds, “Since Petra and I mostly perform as a duo, it seemed natural and logical to use that format and to work out our take on the repertoire gradually on the bandstand. Petra chose all the songs and, while a few of them were new to her, most of them were already part of her repertoire. I didn’t want to play them in the way she already knew them, but rather to put them through the filter of my own sensibilities. All the songs, therefore, underwent some amount of transformation in adapting them for this project, some more than others, and these versions developed little by little, organically.”

Repertoire and arrangements took shape on countless gigs, but concrete recording plans didn’t coalesce for over a year until, as Petra explains, “we were discussing an upcoming ‘night- themed’ performance at PianoForte, a conducive space with a fantastic piano, and Dennis suggested we record that concert live. I agreed, but as a safety net, I insisted we record two nights to guarantee more options for ‘takes.’ Wouldn’t you know it, every song ultimately chosen came from night two!”

You’ll notice that this is a “live” recording – although the sound is so beautiful that I was at first startled by the applause. (“Where did those people come from?” I thought.) Dennis adds, “In the recording studio, one is tempted to play it safe and strive for a controlled perfection that lacks the spontaneity of a live performance: a scripted dialogue, not an intimate conversation. I prefer the latter.”

Petra insisted on BLESSINGS as the closing song. What a gift this performance is. It sends the listener off – whether to bed or just into another phase of nocturnal experience – wrapped in gratitude. That’s how I feel, not only about that Berlin song, but about this whole disc, which captures the best efforts of two inventive explorers who do their best work after the sun goes down. 

I believe the CD will be available in September, which is only a few days away.  You can pre-order copies here — as well as Petra’s other recordings, several with the luminous guitarist Andy Brown . . . and see her gig schedule.  And more.

May your happiness increase!

MORE INSTANT YET LASTING GRATIFICATION (Part Two): “ANIMULE DANCE” at the LOVELACE: EVAN ARNTZEN, SEAN CRONIN, ADAM BRISBIN (August 10, 2018)

Here‘s the first part of the music I captured on a glorious afternoon at the Lovelace (66 Pearl Street, New York City) courtesy of three generous stirring improvisers: Sean Cronin, string bass; Evan Arntzen, clarinet and tenor saxophone; Adam Brisbin, guitar: WHO’S SORRY NOW?, BLUE TURNING GREY OVER YOU, and ROCKIN’ IN RHYTHM.

And a few more wonders from that day, full of heartfelt surging energies.

Let’s call a heart a heart. Explanation below.

MY BLUE HEAVEN, with a wonderful funky Forties rocking motion, and a charming vocal by Evan:

a collective assent from the band, ‘DEED I DO, rocked in by that rhythm section, with an affirmation from Sean:

No co-pay for this healing visit to Doctor Morton; Evan explains the procedure:

A wonderful change of pace in Tizol’s CARAVAN:

and another serving of cage-free Jelly Roll, GRANDPA’S SPELLS:

It is a tremendous comfort to me to know that such glorious inventiveness exists, that it is within my reach (a walk, a train, a subway, a walk) and that I can capture it for our collective joy.  Thank you to the Animule Dance, to their friends and mine, and Richard of Lovelace.  There’s still more to come.

And . . . in case you thought I’d forgotten, the story of the heart drawn in colored pencils.  I don’t know during which performance it happened, but a beautiful little girl (Romy was nine, and French) came up and gave Sean, I think, her drawing.  What better emblem of the great truth, that music goes right to our hearts?

May your happiness increase!