Tag Archives: Sean Cronin

“AT BREAK OF DAWN, THERE IS NO SUNRISE,” or THE JOY OF SORROW: ALBANIE FALLETTA, JOSH DUNN, SEAN CRONIN, KEVIN DORN, JON-ERIK KELLSO, EVAN ARNTZEN (Cafe Bohemia, New York City, March 12, 2020)

Albanie Falletta and Jen Hodge, another night at Cafe Bohemia, creating beauty.

Great art doesn’t need a museum with guards or a concert hall: sometimes it happens right in front of us, and this was one of those moments: my last trip into New York City to be transported by live music before the world we all knew began to distort in front of us, a visit to Cafe Bohemia on 15 Barrow Street in Greenwich Village for the last of the Thursday-night-jazz-prayer-meetings. March 12, 2020.

I’ve posted music and written about that ominous and uplifting evening here and here — and I can still see in my mind’s eye the stairway down into the nearly-empty subway station, the feel of a produce-section plastic bag wrapped around my hand (I hadn’t found gloves for sale yet) so that I would touch as few surfaces as possible.  A new world, and not an easy one.  But I digress.

The music.  The magical transmogrifiers I capture with my camera are — I use the present tense on purpose — Albanie Falletta, voice and resonator guitar; Kevin Dorn, drums; Sean Cronin, string bass; Josh Dunn, guitar; Evan Arntzen, tenor saxophone; Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet.  The sad text that they make joyous — the great paradox of art — is Einar A. Swan’s 1931 WHEN YOUR LOVER HAS GONE.

That paradox fascinates me.  If you look at the individual facial expressions as the alchemists below make their wise feeling ways through this venerable lament, they are not morose.  Rather, they are the concentrated faces of people intent on making the result of their work (lifetimes of practice and contemplation) come out right.  Were they to “break up their lines to weep,” to quote Yeats, the song would fail as each one retreated into their private universe of grief.  And there is always enough to grieve about.  But I think of Basie and Jimmy Rushing singing and playing the saddest song with a glint of mischief under their labors, embodying and celebrating the powers of art.

Here I’d like to quote from the unpublished journals of Sammut of Malta:

Nothing is ever strictly functional in music because all music is ornamental.

Music is not necessary for our well-being even if we come to need it on an emotional level. The fact is that if organized sound were never a thing, we’d still be here. But that’s what make something as simple as a triad so amazing. There’s really no practical reason for it to exist. But we wouldn’t want to be here without it. So that’s why I’d suggest there’s never any such thing as JUST A II-V-I progression.

We are such complicated humans and simplistic beasts all at once who can never see past our own noses. So when I hear a bass line—any bass line— I like to remind myself of its ultimate meaninglessness outside of my ears, but it makes it more special for that reason.

Or, as Hot Lips Page once told Steve Lipkins on the band bus, “Look, an Eb don’t mean shit unless you bring something to the fucking note.”

What Albanie, Kevin, Sean, Josh, Evan, and Jon-Erik bring to that Eb and all the other notes in this performance is precious — wafting past us in time, evaporating, but memorable.  Bless them for moving us so.

And I will restate some thoughts that are even more pertinent in June:

This should be obvious, but people under stress might forget to look at “the larger picture,” that others have a hard time also.  I’ve created this post for free, but what follows isn’t about me or what’s in my refrigerator.  The musicians didn’t receive extra money for entertaining  you.  How can you help them and express gratitude?  Simple.  Buy their CDs from their websites.  Help publicize their virtual house concerts — spread the news, share the joy — and toss something larger than a virtual zero into the virtual tip jar.  Musicians live in a gig economy, and we need their generous art more than we can say.  Let’s not miss the water because we ourselves have let the well run dry.  Spiritual generosity means much more than a whole carton of hand sanitizer, or a really cool leopard-print mask.

What you give open-handedly to others comes back to your doorstep.  Musicians remind us that there’s more to live for than lunch, and we must prize them for their pointing this out in every Eb.

May your happiness increase!

THE SKY DARKENED, THE MUSIC SOARED: JON-ERIK KELLSO, EVAN ARNTZEN, JOSH DUNN, SEAN CRONIN, ALBANIE FALLETTA, KEVIN DORN (Cafe Bohemia, March 12, 2020)

Outside the world was getting darker — not just the way the sky looks after sunset.  That was March 12, 2020, in New York City. I and others knew it, felt it, although we could have had no idea of what was to come.  I had balanced my anxieties (the genetic and parental gift given to me) against the feeling, “You had better do this. It may not come again for some time,” and I am thrilled that I was able to be at Cafe Bohemia, 15 Barrow Street, Greenwich Village for those glorious hours.

Broadway went dark, but my hero-friends lit up the night and lifted our hearts.

Here’s a shining example — 1944 rocking made tangible in 2020 — from the end of that evening’s gig, when Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Evan Arntzen, clarinet and tenor; Josh Dunn, guitar; Sean Cronin, string bass, were joined by Albanie Falletta, guitar and vocals [YouTube didn’t have enough space for me to type her full name in the credits, but there’s only one Albanie] and Kevin Dorn, drums.

More from March 12 here.  Take as needed, with a full glass of hope.

May your happiness increase!

ON MARCH 12, 2020, WHEN BROADWAY WENT DARK, THIS INSPIRED QUARTET MADE BARROW STREET AS BRIGHT AS DAY (JON-ERIK KELLSO, EVAN ARNTZEN, JOSH DUNN, SEAN CRONIN)

For those of us who are paying attention, this is a scary time.  But when Jon-Erik Kellso suggested with polite urgency that we might want to join him and the Cafe Bohemia Jazz Quartet on Thursday, March 12 — it seems a lifetime ago — I stuffed a produce-section plastic bag in my jacket pocket (it took a few more days to find gloves) took a half-empty commuter train, got on an even more empty subway, and walked a few quiet blocks to this place, the home of restorative music and friends since last September: Cafe Bohemia at 15 Barrow Street, New York City.

We sensed that the huge dark doors were closing, although we didn’t know what would follow (we still are like people fumbling for the light switch in a strange room full of things to trip over).  But music, artistic intelligence, soulful energy, and loving heat were all beautifully present that night.  I hope that these video-recordings of these performances can light our way in the days ahead.  And, for me, I needed to post music by people who are alive, medically as well as spiritually.  So here are three inventive performances from that night.  Subliminally, the songs chosen were all “good old good ones” that can be traced back to Louis, which is never a bad thing.

YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY — perhaps the theme song for quarantined couples and families? — with the world’s best ending:

Honoring another savory part of Lower Manhattan, CHINATOWN:

And the oft-played ROYAL GARDEN BLUES, here all bright and shiny with love.  Everyone in the band lights up the night sky, but please pay attention to Sean Cronin playing the blues in the best Pops-Foster-superhero-style.  This venerable song is often played far too fast, but Jon-Erik kicked it off at a wonderfully groovy tempo, reminding me of Bix and his Gang, and the Benny Goodman Sextet of 1940-41:

If, in some unimaginable future, a brave doctor leans over me and says, “He shouldn’t have gone into the city on March 12, you know,” my lifeless form will resurrect just long enough to say, “You’ve got it wrong.  It was completely worth it.”

Bless these four embodiments of healing joy, as well as Christine Santelli and Mike Zielenewski of Cafe Bohemia, too.  And here are three other lovely performances from earlier in the evening: I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH ME, WILLIE THE WEEPER (he was a low-down chimney sweeper, if you didn’t know that), and the MEMPHIS BLUES.

This should be obvious, but people under stress might forget to look at “the larger picture,” that others have a hard time also.  I’ve created this post for free, but what follows isn’t about me or what’s in my refrigerator.  The musicians didn’t receive extra money for entertaining  you.  How can you help them and express gratitude?  Simple.  Buy their CDs from their websites.  Help publicize their virtual house concerts — spread the news, share the joy — and toss something larger than a virtual zero into the virtual tip jar.  Musicians live in a gig economy, and we need their generous art more than we can say.  Let’s not miss the water because we ourselves have let the well run dry.

Spiritual generosity means much more than a whole carton of hand sanitizer, and what you give open-handedly to others comes back to your doorstep.

May your happiness increase!

WITH A HAPPY REFRAIN: TAMAR KORN SINGS FOR QUINN (and US)

Tamar, 2008

Tamar Korn has been a bright light in my sky for more than a decade now, since I first watched and heard her (I am sure I was open-mouthed astonished) perhaps at Banjo Jim’s.  Early on, I did ask her, “What planet are you from?” and she laughed but wouldn’t answer.  My inquiries to NASA have proven fruitless, and I think the rumor of her being born in California is just to throw us off the track.  Whatever . . . Tamar sent me this video a few days ago and I felt it was and is a great gift.  She wanted me to tell you that she was singing for her three-and-a-half year old nephew Quinn.  But I know that she won’t mind our joining the party.

No Gene Kelly, no puddles, but Tamar, a raincoat, and an umbrella are more than enough to lift our hearts.  Even without the raincoat and umbrella.

and because the prevailing circumstances make it terribly relevant, I offer another of Tamar’s performances — recorded out of doors.

Tamar’s Wildwood Ramblers, ten years later: Evan Arntzen, Adam Brisbin, Sean Cronin, Dennis Lichtman

It’s a Yiddish song that offers its hearers the most fervent wishes for health and happiness: read about it and witness this outpouring of barefoot joy here.

Photograph by Michael Steinman

I may have told the story of the greenish phone-photograph above, but it pleases me.  When I posted the photograph on one or another blogpost, someone said to me in the mocking tone of one who has discovered a slightly naughty secret, “You love her, don’t you?!”  I grinned at my interrogator and said immediately, “Of course.”  It seemed a very foolish question and it still does.

May your happiness increase!

AN ANSWER TO ANXIETY, or RADIANCE IN THE GLOOM (Part One): JON-ERIK KELLSO, EVAN ARNTZEN, JOSH DUNN, SEAN CRONIN at CAFE BOHEMIA (March 12, 2020)

My parents, generous in all things, also gave lavishly of their own anxieties — “Be careful!” “That’s a very bad idea,” and more.  So on the evening of March 12, when I went into the half-deserted city that I’ve been visiting for decades, I heard the dull thrum of fear all around me.  The half-empty streets, commuter train, and subway all testified to prudence, caution, fear of the unknown.

But the music I and others (including Matt Rivera, one of the Disciples of Swing) heard that night — and that you will hear now — was a powerful countertruth.  “Yes, there is a new toxicity out there — an acronym with a number — that is ready to catch you unaware.  But while the music is playing, you are protected.  The creativity of these musicians is life-affirming, and vibrating to their sounds means that you are powerfully alive.”  I felt that from the first notes of I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH ME to the end of the second set.

Of course there is room for scientifically-based dissent, but those who need to write in, “You’re going to DIE!” might give voice to such feelings elsewhere.

The creators — the Doctors of Swing in whom I put my faith that night — were, at the start, Sean Cronin, string bass; Josh Dunn, guitar; Evan Arntzen, clarinet, tenor saxophone; Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet.  Their music says “We will go on.”

Here are three beauties, defying the darkness.  The first is I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH ME, played at a lovely tempo thanks to Jon-Erik, who remembered my wish to have it sound like a love song, not a sprint:

Then, WILLIE THE WEEPER, a story about joyous self-medication as needed:

And a mellow MEMPHIS BLUES (where the people smile on  you all the while):

There will be more, and I don’t simply mean that I will post music from this night.  I envision a future, not too long from now, when live music will be experienced face-to-face.  And — lest I forget — this post is in honor of the very-much-alive Jim Wellen, whom I met this morning.

I’ve created this post for free.  The musicians didn’t receive extra money for entertaining  you.  How can you help them and express gratitude?  Simple.  Buy their CDs from their websites.  Help publicize their virtual house concerts — spread the news, share the joy — and toss something larger than a virtual zero into the virtual tip jar.  Musicians live in a gig economy, and we need their generous art more than we can say.  Let’s not miss the water because we ourselves have let the well run dry.

May your happiness increase!

WHEN FRIENDS DROP IN: A LITTLE JAM SESSION at CAFE BOHEMIA: JON-ERIK KELLSO, BRIA SKONBERG, GEOFF POWER, RICKY ALEXANDER, ALBANIE FALLETTA, ARNT ARNTZEN, JEN HODGE (January 2, 2020)

If I learned that a few dear friends were going to drop by in fifteen minutes, I would rush around tidying, straightening out the bed, looking to see what you could serve them . . . a flurry of immediate anxiety (“Does the bathtub need to be cleaned and can I do it in the next two minutes?” “Where will people sit?”) mixed with the pleasurable anticipation of their appearance.  As an aside, JAZZ LIVES readers who wish to see the apartment — equal parts record store, video studio,  yard sale, and library will have to make an appointment.

Albanie Falletta, resonator guitar; Jen Hodge, string bass, Cafe Bohemia, Dec.26, 2019.

Since I “live” at Cafe Bohemia (15 Barrow Street, Greenwich Village, New York) only intermittently, and it’s already tidy, thus, not my problem, I could simply relax into a different kind of pleasurable anticipation.  It happened again when Jon-Erik Kellso began to invite people up on to the bandstand near the end of the evening of January 2, 2020 — another of the Thursday sessions that cheer me immensely. The result reminded me of some nights at the 54th Street Eddie Condon’s when guests would come by and perform.

Let me give you the Dramatis Personae for that night and then we can proceed to two of the marvels that took place.  The House Band: Jon-Erik, trumpet; Ricky Alexander, clarinet; Albanie Falletta, resonator guitar / vocal; Sean Cronin, string bass / vocal.  The Guests: Bria Skonberg, Geoff Power, trumpet; Arnt Arntzen, banjo; Jen Hodge, string bass.  Arrangements were quickly and graciously made: Sean handed to bass to Jen for these two numbers; Bria stayed on, Geoff went off for one and came back for the second.  

JAZZ ME BLUES, with Jon-Erik, Bria, Ricky, Albanie, Arnt, and Jen:

SOMEBODY STOLE MY GAL, with Albanie singing and Geoff back on the stand:

Much better than apartment-tidying, I’d say.  And I’d wager that even the Lone YouTube Disliker, who hides in the bathroom with his laptop, might give his death-ray finger a rest.  More beautiful sounds will come from Cafe Bohemia, so come down the stairs.

May your happiness increase!

 

 

“CAN I GET YOUR LOVIN’ NOW?”: ALBANIE FALLETTA, JON-ERIK KELLSO, SEAN CRONIN, RICKY ALEXANDER at CAFE BOHEMIA (January 2, 2020)

These artists:

and these too:

were here to begin 2020:


and they (and friends) transported everyone in the room.  It all happened at my new second home, Cafe Bohemia (15 Barrow Street, Greenwich Village, New York City) on Thursday night, January 2, 2020.  And the makers-of-magic are Albanie Falletta, vocal and resonator guitar; Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Sean Cronin, string bass; Ricky Alexander.  Their text: HESITATION BLUES.  And how moving!

There will be more videos from this session, but — for those who like to live their lives close-up to reality (that is, getting sensation from people rather than from a lit screen) — Albanie, Jon-Erik, Evan Arntzen, and Jen Hodge will be performing at Cafe Bohemia tomorrow evening at 8 and 10 PM . . . reason to put your shoes back on and leave the chair in front of the computer.  Seriously.  Life is larger than any of our phones.

May your happiness increase!

THE WINDS IN THE WILLOWS: TAMAR KORN’S WILDWOOD RAMBLERS (June 17, 2018)

It’s October in New York, and the air is appropriately cooler.  I know that cold weather is coming on, and that isn’t a pleasant thought.  So I will present some wonderful warm music from late spring of this year, free-floating and joyous, performed amidst the trees by Tamar Korn and her Wildwood Ramblers, thanks to Brice Moss.  The Ramblers (as I hope you know by now) were Dennis Lichtman, Evan Arntzen, Sean Cronin, and Adam Brisbin.  Oh, the beauties they created and so generously gave to us.

Here and here are the performances I’ve posted earlier (I think there are sixteen).  This is Part Four or Part Five, depending on what kind of math is your usual procedure.

As to Tamar herself, I’ve been a devoted follower since 2009.  Once I took this portrait photograph in the darkness.  Someone, seeing it, said derisively to me (with the air of a middle-schooler mocking a romance) “You LOVE her!” and I said the only thing I could say, “Of course!”

Photograph by Michael Steinman

 

 

 

 

 

Here are three more reasons to love them all.

JAZZ ME BLUES (“Come on, Professor, and Jazz me!” — something no student has ever said to me, and that’s a good thing.):

DEEP NIGHT, with heartfelt harmonizing from Tamar and Evan:

YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY, a riotous romp, suitable to end a glorious day of music.  Don’t miss Evan’s nose flute interlude!  And, as always, such a privilege to be there and to capture these sounds for you and perhaps for posterity:

May your happiness increase!

“YOU HAVE YOUR HEALTH, SO THANK YOUR LUCKY STARS”: TAMAR KORN’S WILDWOOD RAMBLERS (June 17, 2018)

Tamar Korn is magic, and she makes magic happen.  But even those of us who are accustomed to her extra-terrestrial surprises can find themselves astonished.

It happened throughout the afternoon of June 17, 2018, where, thanks to Brice Moss and family, Tamar and her Wildwood Ramblers (Evan Arntzen, Dennis Lichtman, Sean Cronin, and Adam Brisbin) could romp and woo us with their sounds in the glade.  But one performance still brings stifled tears to my eyes.

Before we begin: the song is not A BEI GEZUNDT, recorded by Mildred Bailey and Cab Calloway, but an earlier composition by Abraham Ellstein, sung by Molly Picon in the 1938 film MAMELE.  And if you want to see Molly in domestic bliss — even though the challah burns — you can search YouTube for “Molly Picon” and “MAMELE.”

But I want to draw your attention, and hearts, to Tamar and her Ramblers.

This performance reminds me that when Fats Waller was asked by an interviewer late in his short career what he saw himself doing in future, he answered that he wanted to tour the country giving sermons in front of a big band.  Tamar does all this with her most empathic quartet — first, teaching them the song (what dear quick studies they are) and then offering us the lesson of hope and gratitude, something we need in these days and nights.

Because Tamar and friends are on this planet, I thank my lucky stars.  You are encouraged to join me in this emotion.

May your happiness increase!

IN JOY WE TRUST: TAMAR KORN’S WILDWOOD RAMBLERS (Part Three): JUNE 17, 2018

It’s Labor Day 2018, and instead of playing outdoors or being at someone’s barbecue, I’m inside at my computer — by choice, I add.  I have joy to spread.

This is the third in a series documenting a wonderful uplifting long afternoon out-of-doors, a Brice Moss Production featuring Tamar Korn, Evan Arntzen, Dennis Lichtman, Adam Brisbin, and Sean Cronin.  Parts one and two can be savored here.

Tonight, if you are caught in homeward-bound holiday traffic, this music will keep you from feeling trapped.  Just don’t stare at the screen, please?

Here are four more effusions of pure “It’s good to be alive.”  (There will be a Part Four as well.)

CREOLE LOVE CALL (scored for two clarinets, and one Songbird — flitting gracefully between Adelaide Hall and Louis’ slide whistle):

The ancient favorite — DARKTOWN STRUTTERS’ BALL — which my father taught me before I’d entered kindergarten.  Happily, there are no videos of my performances.  But here are the Wildwood Ramblers — and stay until the end for a very sweet surprise (although if I have to tell you that, something’s wrong):

Some very good advice (with choral effects) even if you don’t have a Sweetie to Squeeze, GET OUT AND GET UNDER THE MOON:

and another moon tune — DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT:

The experience, then and now, makes me tremendously happy.  I feel that if anything will save us, it will be joy.  So drink deep (stay spiritually hydrated!) of what these blessed artists so generously offer.

May your happiness increase!

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

This is the third and final segment of my splendid afternoon at The Lovelace (66 Pearl Street, New York City) with the “Animule Dance,” Evan Arntzen, reeds / vocal; Adam Brisbin, guitar / vocal; Sean Cronin, string bass / vocal.  The thought that it is — for the moment — the final segment makes me sad, but the realization that we can enjoy these performances again and again is cheering.

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

For the story behind Romy’s heartfelt gift, please visit here — and you’ll also find the first two parts of the music made by this splendid trio that day.  As an aside, many musicians don’t like having their work compared to that of the Ancestors, but as I have been delighting in these videos again, I thought I heard an alternate universe where Lester Young, Milt Hinton, and Al Casey were jamming for their own pleasure.  Floating, you know.  Not imitating, but Being in 2018.

And here are the last of the savory treats from that rare Friday afternoon, so delicious.

INDIANA (with sweet hints of Don Byas and Slam Stewart):

SQUEEZE ME, which couldn’t be nicer:

A Spanish-singed I LOST MY GAL FROM MEMPHIS:

OLD-FASHIONED LOVE, which mixes Twenties soul, bluegrass tints, and a little Django and Billy Taylor as well, before Evan wins the Miscellaneous Instruments category by a nose.  Thanks to Scout Opatut for direction and continuity: her Oscars are on the way:

an easy yet impassioned RUSSIAN LULLABY:

WHEN YOU’RE SMILING served with a bowl of gumbo:

and the closing Frolick, LIMEHOUSE BLUES:

What a thrilling band!  I want lucrative gigs, public and private, club and festival, what the Youngbloods call merch — pinback buttons, hoodies, bath sponges, bumper stickers — CDs I can play in the car, the concert tour (I’ll be press agent and videographer), and worldwide huzzahs.  Nothing less.

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!

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

Pleasure can be evanescent, but the kind I experienced yesterday will last.

Adam Brisbin (by Joanna Sternberg)

I am thrilled to share some instant yet lasting gratification from the “Animule Dance,” a trio of Evan Arntzen, clarinet, tenor saxophone, vocal; Sean Cronin, string bass, vocal; Adam Brisbin, guitar, vocal, that I recorded at The Lovelace, 66 Pearl Street in downtown Manhattan, New York City, on August 10, 2018.

Sean Cronin (by Aidan Grant)

I had been admiring these three heroes in various contexts, most recently as three-fifths of Tamar Korn’s Wildwood Ramblers (you can find delicious performances just recently posted on JAZZ LIVES) but it was so much fun to meet them as a trio.  They are delightfully unified: they pick up each other’s cues, making for inspired musical conversation.

Evan Arntzen, the Lady Scout Opatut, and her green fan (by Voon Chew)

This was my first visit to The Lovelace, where Emily Asher most often leads the band (she was out of town).  I delighted in the place itself.  Drinking and video don’t mix, but the Lovelace specializes in gin drinks, with a menu that I plan to explore.  The food was first-rate (which isn’t always the case) and the room felt warm and open: thanks to Richard, behind the bar and taking care of everything else.

But since I can’t pour you a gin and bitter lemon nor pass a plate of fish and chips through the computer, I will rely on the music to spread joy.

Here are three glowing examples of the Animule Dance’s swing, versatility, and good feeling.  There will be more.

Asking the musical question, WHO’S SORRY NOW?

Sean’s very tender reading of the Waller-Razaf lament, BLUE, TURNING GREY OVER YOU:

and this bubbly performance of Ellington’s 1930 ROCKIN’ IN RHYTHM — reminiscent to me of George Barnes and Ruby Braff — a performance I am thrilled to have my name attached to:

May your happiness increase!

“BIRDS DO IT”: TAMAR KORN’S WILDWOOD RAMBLERS TAKE FLIGHT (Part Two): June 17, 2018

The stereotype of improvising musicians is that they come out at night; like bats, they avoid bright sunlight.  But this crew (Tamar Korn, Evan Arntzen, Dennis Lichtman, Adam Brisbin, Sean Cronin) seems so happy to be out in Nature, with no one calling to the bartender for another Stella.  The greenery and friendship is positively inspiring, and they offer us uplifting music.  You can savor the first part of this restorative afternoon here.  And here’s a second helping of brilliant joyous invention.  Thrilling to be there.

MILENBERG JOYS:

MUSKRAT RAMBLE:

I’VE GOT A FEELING I’M FALLING, vocal harmonies by Sean and Tamar:

LET’S DO IT (yes, let’s!):

I LOST MY GAL FROM MEMPHIS (with a Spanish tinge):

IT WAS ONLY A SUN SHOWER:

ONE LITTLE KISS, verse and chorus by host Brice Moss (a song I associate with Cliff Edwards and the Eton Boys):

Enjoying these videos again, I am reminded of 2009, when I brought Leroy “Sam” Parkins down to Banjo Jim’s to hear Tamar and the Cangelosi Cards, and he said, “You know, she gets me right in the gizzard.  She, Caruso, and Louis,” and that was no stage joke.  I think he would say the same thing of not only Tamar, but this band.  And somewhere, Sam is happily sitting in with them.

There’s more to come, two more posts’ worth.  Yes.

May your happiness increase!

MUSIC THAT LASTS: RUSS PHILLIPS, DUKE HEITGER, BRIA SKONBERG, ALLAN VACHE, ROSSANO SPORTIELLO, SEAN CRONIN, DARRIAN DOUGLAS at the ATLANTA JAZZ PARTY (April 18, 2015)

Good music, like any good art, doesn’t grow old.  Here’s a venerable song — apparently composed in 1916, published in 1917, being performed ninety-eight years later at the Atlanta Jazz Party on April 18, 2015.  And meaning no disrespect to Mister Handy, it is more than possible that the song was accessible in parts long before 1916.

BEALE STREET BLUES

Good music is also flexible.  The venerable composition, so beloved of “Dixieland” players, gets a sweet Basie makeover here, at the hands of Russ Phillips, trombone; Duke Heitger, Bria Skonberg, trumpet; Allan Vache, clarinet; Rossano Sportiello, piano; Sean Cronin, string bass; Darrian Douglas, drums.

This is a rewarding interlude: I feel improved by its expert generous joys.

May your happiness increase!

“WHEE!”: DAN BARRETT, DUKE HEITGER, BRIA SKONBERG, TOM FISCHER, DALTON RIDENHOUR, SEAN CRONIN, DARRIAN DOUGLAS at the 2015 ATLANTA JAZZ PARTY

Tom Lord, in his well-known online jazz discography, lists 749 versions of THAT’S A PLENTY, beginning with Prince’s Band / Orchestra in 1914, which might not be the same as this song (which most of us associate with the New Orleans Rhythm Kings).  The title seems to have been a slangy catchphrase at the start of the last century, so there are several songs with that title but different music and lyrics.

DanBarrett2

Here’s another version, quite elevating, from April 17, 2015, with Dan, trombone, leadership, and comedy; Duke Heitger, Bria Skonberg, trumpet; Tom Fischer, clarinet and tenor saxophone; Dalton Ridenhour, piano; Sean Cronin, string bass; Darrian Douglas, drums.

CONDON WHEE

WHEE! (When you begin to watch the video, all will be revealed):

It’s a wonderful song, a riotous performance, and a fine advertisement for the 2016 Atlanta Jazz Party.

May your happiness increase!

 

LOUIS, ETERNALLY

I know that the physical remains of Louis Armstrong changed their form in 1971, but I believe that his living presence remains all around us: not only in musicians, but in anyone amplified by and aware of his loving joyous spirit.

But the musicians give us the most evident vibrating proof.

Marc Caparone, cornet, with High Sierra at the Suncoast Jazz Classic, recorded in 2014 by Cine Devine:

Bent Persson, trumpet; Petter Carlson, piano, last month, recorded by Claes Jansson:

Duke Heitger, trumpet; Dalton Ridenhour, piano; Sean Cronin, string bass; Darrian Douglas, drums, April 18, 2015, Atlanta Jazz Party, recorded by swingyoucats (that’s me!):

Three kinds of lyrical beauty — each individual, each glowing.  You don’t have to play a trumpet to embody Louis.  Send out love, act joyously and kindly; enjoy your life — every day — and Louis lives through you.

P.S.  I am posting this blog on July 4 — the date Louis believed was his birthday. Reasonable evidence still points to this date, although 1901 rather than 1900.  If nothing else, his mother called him her “firecracker baby,” and although Mayann’s formal education must have been limited, I believe that she wouldn’t confuse July and August when remembering her delivery.

May your happiness increase!

A REMINDER: THE ATLANTA JAZZ PARTY IS ALMOST HERE (April 17-19, 2015)

I am excited to be attending the 2015 Atlanta Jazz Party — a week away!  That’s April 17 through 19th in the very comfortable Grand Ballroom of the Westin Atlanta North at Perimeter.  It’s an incredibly lavish buffet of hot music: seven sets on Friday night, seven sets on Saturday afternoon, seven sets on Saturday night, and seven sets on Sunday. All performers are featured in each session. Atlanta Jazz Party Patrons and Guarantors get to attend all four sessions plus the exclusive Saturday morning jazz brunch!

And there’s something new and exciting: the new Jazz Dinner Buffets featuring surprise special guest performers on Friday and Saturday Night, in the newly created “Johnny Mercer Room” right across from the Grand Ballroom. This change is important to the Party’s survival.  And I know — don’t ask me how — that one of the “surprise special guest performers” is someone legendary.

Who’s playing and singing?  Ben Polcer, Duke Heitger, Bria Skonberg, Allan Vaché, Tom Fischer, Eddie Erickson, Darian Douglas, Sean Cronin, Dalton Ridenhour, John Cocuzzi, Johnny Varro, Rossano Sportiello, Dan Barrett, Russ Phillips, Nicki Parrott, Paul Keller, Danny Coots, Chuck Redd, Rebecca Kilgore.

Here’s Danny Coots and Ten at the 2014 AJP:

and since that sounds so good, let’s have another:

and the song that conveys the way I feel about the Party:

See you there, I hope.  It’s one of those enterprises that truly deserves your energetic support.

May your happiness increase!

WHERE GEORGE WASHINGTON ATE (December 4, 1783), EMILY ASHER AND FRIENDS SWING (March 28, 2015)

Fraunces Tavern

Fraunces Tavern is justly famous (it’s at 54 Pearl St, New York, and the phone is 212 968-1776) but I had never visited.  Even though I view Wikipedia with suspicion, this seems both detailed and accurate.  But I wasn’t visiting there this past Saturday afternoon to see where George and company bid each other farewell over dinner.  I confess that my idea of history is being in Louis and Lucille Armstrong’s turquoise kitchen in their house in Corona.

I was there because the trombonist / singer / composer Emily Asher has had a regular jazz brunch on Saturdays (1-4) and I had heard very good things about it, so I made my way down there to enjoy Emily, guitarist James Chirillo, string bassist / singer Sean Cronin, and a special guest.

I approached the first two sets as a civilian, drinking coffee (brought to me by a very sweet young waitperson), watching the ebb and flow of families, and digging the music.  Before I talk about the music, though, a digression.  I have a notebook when I go to any music, to write down information — song titles and the like — because I can’t always rely on my memory when I get home.  And I am a born eavesdropper and collector of things sweet and strange.

Here are a few samples.

While Emily’s Garden Party trio was playing, a large group of children was dancing in the adjacent room.  They were too young to know the Balboa, but they were having a fine time.

A man in his twenties looked at the band and said happily to his companion, “Oh, a little trombone action!” which was a good critical soundbite.

To my left sat a grandfatherly-looking man with what might have been a captain’s hat, surrounded by four or five pre-teenagers who might have not been his blood relations.  They were having a fine time, and he was talking with them about different subjects and eliciting their responses (as opposed to a monologue).  One subject was flags of the world, which I confess did not catch my attention.  But the subject that did was his grass-roots explanation of economics, which caught me because it had the enticing word CUPCAKES prominently featured.  Compressed, his explanation went something like this. “Everyone here likes cupcakes, and you can bake some and sell them for money and you hope to make a profit, and if they’re good cupcakes, then people are happy.  If you have a library, you don’t make any money, but the people who read the books get smarter and the whole society improves.”  I’m not sure that any of his acolytes were willing to give up the idea of cupcakes, but he was a sly and I hope effective economist.

Back to the music. It was tender, then it swung like mad.  STARS FELL ON ALABAMA, I’M COMIN’ VIRGINIA, and LOOK FOR THE SILVER LINING were dear and sweet.  Emily sang most fetchingly on VIRGINIA and SILVER; there was also heat on SOMEBODY STOLE MY GAL, SOME OF THESE DAYS, and a half-dozen others.  James Chirillo, the prince of swing, created a surrealistic masterpiece of a solo on THERE’LL BE SOME CHANGES MADE that would have pleased Stuart Davis or Magritte; Sean Cronin swung both with and without the bow, slapped the bass in the best Al Morgan manner, and harmonized with Emily on WHEN YOU WORE A TULIP. And — something new – – Emily picked up an empty coffee cup and used it in the best Vic Dickenson manner to make new sounds.  I was very pleased to see this manifestation of Vickensonian ardor.

By the final set, I had had enough of being a civilian and unpacked tripod and camera.  (Could I disappoint JAZZ LIVES?  Certainly not.)  So here are four treats from that set — and you’ll notice a young fellow with a trumpet.  He’s known here and abroad as Bjorn Ingelstam; he played wonderfully when I first met him, and he’s even better now.  (And April 1 is his birthday.  Happiness to the Youngblood!)

BLUE TURNING GRAY OVER YOU:

NOBODY’S SWEETHEART NOW:

I WANT A LITTLE GIRL:

I know where I’ll be on some Saturdays to come.  You may notice that there is a hum of conversation, and I’ve often complained about this.  But the conversations I heard and overheard at Fraunces Tavern were sweetly reassuring, and I’d prefer them to the contemporary zombie glaze at the smartphone that I see too often.  (I am not alone in wincing at couples who go out for a meal and sit in silence, engrossed in their phones.)

George Washington never slept here: he would have been too busy putting ancient money in the tip jar. Or he would have been looking to see if there were any cupcakes on the menu or if they were simply theoretical ones.

May your happiness increase!

SPORTIELLO-METZ, UNLIMITED (Atlanta Jazz Party, April 27, 2014)

Rossano Sportiello, piano, and Ed Metz, snare drum with wire brushes, made up a fully satisfying combo / band / orchestra in their morning set at the 2014 Atlanta Jazz Party.  The music they made has resonated happily in my memory, and now I have the pleasure of sharing it with you.

Rossano began the set with a heartfelt BLUE AND SENTIMENTAL — which had a Strayhorn coloration at the start.  In an age of bright colors and high volumes, it is so reassuring to hear a Maestro like Rossano play a ballad — not in any hurry to get through, to speed it up:

From Basie to his teacher, Fats, for HANDFUL OF KEYS, joined by Ed:

Then, a long interlude-concert which allows both players to shine as soloists and as part of a wondrous duo.  The selections are MISTY, IT’S THE TALK OF THE TOWN, CHINATOWN (with a hand-drum solo a la Jo Jones), LUCKY TO BE ME, Liszt’s CONSOLATION #3, SHOE SHINE BOY — a full circle back to Basie:

Throughout this morning serenade, I was reminded of the beautiful sound of Johnny Guarnieri and Sidney Catlett, and I marvel at Rossano’s beautiful precision and the astonishing variety of sounds and textures Ed gets out of this most minimalist drum kit — and the duo’s apparently indefatigable swing. Proof, once again, that you don’t need a lot of volume to swing.

All this happened at the April 2014 Atlanta Jazz Party, and I have every expectation that equally beautiful music will be created there again this April. Details and registration information here.  And since — as is the custom in most parties — the earlier you register, the better your seating . . . carpe diem in a big way.

The players this year will be Ben Polcer, Duke Heitger, Bria Skonberg, Allan Vache, Tom Fischer, Dan Barrett, Russ Phillips, John Cocuzzi, Rossano Sportiello, Johnny Varro, Dalton Ridenhour, Eddie Erickson, Nicki Parrott, Paul Keller, Sean Cronin, Danny Coots, Chuck Redd, Darrian Douglas, Rebecca Kilgore.  Quite a varied and energetic crew.

May your happiness increase!

ALIVE AND SWINGING: EMILY ASHER’S GARDEN PARTY: “MEET ME IN THE MORNING”

EMILY ASHER MORNING

It’s taken me a few months to write anything about Emily Asher’s Garden Party’s first full-length CD, but it’s taken me that long to wrest the disc out of the CD players — car, home, and office.  The cover artwork by Jocelyn Curry is a lovely evocative introduction to the music within — full of beautiful surprises that quickly seem friendly and welcoming.

I’ve admired Emily as a trombonist / singer / arranger / composer for some time.  I first encountered her as an eager and skilled young player who came by for the second set at The Ear Inn to happily swell the ranks — and I first captured her on video at the very start of 2011 — a joyous jam session here. I wouldn’t call myself an early adopter of new technology, but I caught a young version of Emily’s band, the Garden Party, at Radegast Bierhalle in September 2011: the energetic experience comes through here.  When the Party released a mini-CD Hoagy Carmichael tribute, CARNIVAL OF JOY, the disc was aptly titled.

More recently, I caught the band at a January 2014 San Francisco house party here and here.  I know this barrage of hyperlinks may seem to some a prelude to Emily’s retirement dinner (which is far off in the future) but I simply want to suggest — as they say in certain urban areas, “We go ‘way back.  We have history.”

History, however, is not always the only offering of the Garden Party.  Yes, they can swing out on WHEN YOU WORE A TULIP in fine New Orleans style, and the band’s knowledge of traditional and swing genres includes not only the familiar (ROYAL GARDEN BLUES) but the by-now-slightly-exotic (EMPEROR NORTON’S HUNCH).  The Garden Party, however, is more than a band of youngbloods playing old favorites.  And their new disc does have TULIP, BIG BUTTER AND EGG MAN, I’VE GOT A FEELIN’ I’M FALLING, MEMPHIS IN JUNE, and the little-known WALK IT OFF (recorded by Carmichael in 1946) — but the remaining five titles are originals by Emily or by the band.

Ordinarily, “originals” make me slightly nervous, because some of the greatest improvisers do their improvising on frameworks written by others.  But these originals have substance; they aren’t endless musings on existential dread, nor are they contrefacts, thin creations over someone else’s chord changes.  In the first minutes of this disc (the opening track is called OPEN INVITATION TO A RAINSTORM, which should suggest something about Emily’s generous and quirky imagination): we hear Emily’s solo voice backed by a sympathetic rubato rhythm section; the song moves into time with a calypso exposition of the chorus, alternating with a rocking 4 / 4 time — then the band plays an instrumental chorus (beautifully arranged) punctuated with drum-break comments . . . a piano modulation takes us into a group vocal chorus alternating with Emily sweet exuberant / thoughtful voice, and the performance ends with a joyous “last eight bars.”

I won’t delineate the other nine tracks in this fashion, but MEET ME IN THE MORNING is a delightful tonic as well as a delightful corrective to some more tired (although “modern”) jazz conventions — the apparently endless string of solos over a rhythm section, the idea that modernity means turning one’s back on sentiment and swing.  The music heard on this disc (or on live gigs) benefits from a deep study of what has come before, but it is not weighed down by pure intellectualism.

Rather, the Garden Party knows and embodies what it is like to have fun with music — to Play without being goofy, to entertain a crowd, real or imagined.  They do not disdain their audience, and their pleasure at making melody and swing comes through the little plastic artifact. And they are not jazz snobs — there’s a country waltz on this disc, and Emily’s version of a Fifties soul hit (that starts with a scratchy-78 version of the verse) . . . amusing and convincing evocations of a wide range of fulfilling music — each track a small pleasing present to unwrap more than once.

Emily’s bands have always had first-rate players and singers who seemed to blossom because of the warmth and light she herself brings to the music, but this version of her Garden Party is special.  I will leave the adjectives to you, but here are the facts: Emily, trombone, vocals, composition, arrangements; Mike Davis, trumpet, fluegelhorn, cornet, arrangements, vocals; Tom Abbott, clarinet, alto saxophone; Dalton Ridenhour, piano; Nick Russo, banjo, guitar; Sean Cronin, string bass, composition, arrangements; Rob Adkins, string bass, arrangements; Jay Lepley, drums, arrangements, vocals.  Nice recorded sound and fine notes from the Dipper himself, Ricky Riccardi.

If you follow the Garden Party (on either coast and sometimes in the middle), you’ve already purchased a copy of this CD.  If not, it’s an open invitation to joy. Details here.

May your happiness increase!

EMILY ASHER’S JOYOUS CARNIVAL CONTINUES

Some months back, I wrote an eager announcement of a new compact disc by Emily Asher’s Garden Party — a six-song tribute to Hoagy Carmichael, called CARNIVAL OF JOY.  Truth in advertising!  The disc is one of those creative efforts that grows deeper with each visit, and it balances exuberance, intelligence, and subtle understanding.

CARNIVAL OF JOY

The facts.  The personnel (are they Partiers or Gardeners or Garden Partiers?) are Emily Asher, trombone / vocals / arrangements; Mike Davis, trumpet / cornet / vocal; Tom Abbott, clarinet / alto saxophone; Dalton Ridenhour, piano; Nick Russo, guitar / banjo; Sean Cronin, string bass (2, 4) / arrangement and vocal (6); Rob Adkins, string bass, 1, 3, 5, 6); Jay Lepley, drums.  The songs: RIVERBOAT SHUFFLE / LAZY BONES / JUBILEE / TWO SLEEPY PEOPLE / BALTIMORE ORIOLE / ROCKIN’ CHAIR.

Click here to hear LAZY BONES from the CD — and, not incidentally, learn more about the many swinging exploits of our Ms. Asher.

I said above, “exuberance, intelligence, and deep understanding.”  High praise and, for some, difficult to live up to.  But not for Emily and her colleagues.

The exuberance comes through from the start of the disc.  It’s not loud music (although there is the delightful possibility of good-humored raucousness on several of the tracks) but to me it felt very much like young Judy and Mickey with his father’s barn — the quality of “Let’s put on a show!” And the glee is authentic: it’s not the stagy “enthusiasm,” part of the act, we sometimes see.

What I perceive as “intelligence” and “deep understanding” come through in the thought-processes behind this disc.  Tributes are sometimes easy ways for artists who haven’t decided who they are to masquerade as more remarkable ones — the more enlightened artists come to understand that wearing a gardenia in your hair may be an absolute impediment to understanding Billie Holiday or becoming one’s self.

But CARNIVAL OF JOY is not an attempt to copy hallowed recordings or performances.  Of course I hear sly touches of Louis and Fats and Hoagy himself in these performances, but they are admiring glances rather than full-dress impersonations.  Emily and her friends have understood something deep about the delicate balance between honoring the originals and creating something new, so each of the six songs here is a small, casual drama in itself — joyous or somber, wild or pensive (and in the case of ROCKIN’ CHAIR, nearly ominous) — with singing and playing that adeptly honor the song and carry its many messages straight to us.

I’ve been playing CARNIVAL OF JOY often, and my only reservation about the disc is that it contains six songs . . . not eighteen or more.  Listen and see if you don’t agree.  Thank you, Emily, Mike, Sean, Tom, Dalton, Nick, Rob, Jay, and of course Hoagy.

May your happiness increase!