Tag Archives: Stan Puls

“A SWELL FELLOW”

I don’t know what the proliferation of inscribed photographs of Jack Teagarden says about his, the circumstances, his popularity.  But since I’ve loved his music since childhood, I prefer to see these photographs as indications of a generous character, a man who appreciated his fans and was happy to make even the most fleeting connection with them.  For a start, “Edith” must have been made happier by this:

JACK EDITH

and this later pose:

JACK AUTOGRAPH

and a long sweet [although general] inscription, when Jack was being managed by MCA — circa 1939, if you know his lyrics to JACK HITS THE ROAD:

JACK TEAGARDEN Successful and Happy

and “Warmest regards to a Swell Fellow ‘Pat'”:

JACK TEAGARDEN Warmest Wishes

Then, some official business from 1943:

JACK TEAGARDEN union card front

and the other side:

JACK TEAGARDEN union card back

Even late in life — perhaps a year before his death — Jack retained his mastery, a mastery so deep that he made his great art look casual.  Here he is in Chicago, on television (the host is Willis Conover) performing BASIN STREET BLUES with Don Goldie, Henry Cuesta, Don Ewell, Stan Puls (I think), and Barrett Deems:

May your happiness increase!

A FEW NOTES FOR TOMMY THUNEN

At the most recent (November 2013) San Diego Jazz Fest, a friend introduced a smiling woman to me with these words, “Michael, this is Vonne.  Her father was Tommy Thunen.”  I was very excited, and told Vonne so, for I knew her father’s name for years: as the second or third trumpet player on many Red Nichols recordings.  She was happy that I was so excited, and she promised to send more about her father.
The children of jazz heroes — a rare breed — fascinate me. Many of the musicians I admire were childless, or their relations with their children were less than ideal — so my occasional attempts to speak with these survivors have not always been successful.  Nephews and nieces, grandchildren and cousins have surfaced but little substantial has come of these brief contacts.  (A notable exception has been the interchanges I’ve had, documented in JAZZ LIVES, with the very generous son of Leo McConville, a trumpeter who probably sat alongside Thunen many times in the late Twenties and middle Thirties.)
But Vonne clearly remembers her father with affection:
My dad, Tommy Thunen, played with Red Nichols, Paul Whiteman, and later Russ Morgan. As you probably know, Russ Morgan played at the Claremont Hotel in Berkeley for a number of years. My dad played with Abe Lyman’s Orchestra in the 30’s I believe. He also played on two radio programs in New York. One was called “Waltz Time” on Friday nights and the other was “Manhattan Merry-Go-Round” on Sundays. I believe it was one of the major radio stations in New York. 
In later years he was living in San Fernando Valley and played with a band led by Rosy McHargue at a place called The Cobblestone, and he also played with Rosy in Las Vegas. Musicians have told me that he had a “sweet” sound. He also played cornet and alto sax. One of his first “gigs” was at age 13 when he played at an Armistice parade at the end of the first World War.
My own investigation into Tommy’s recorded work as documented in the “jazz” records to be found in Tom Lord’s discography shows him to be a New York regular who traveled in fast company: not only with Nichols, but the Irving Mills recording groups that used men out of the Ben Pollack Orchestra, starting in 1929.
Tommy played alongside Gene Krupa, Jimmy McPartland, Jack Teagarden, Benny Goodman, Jimmy Dorsey, Larry Binyon, Ray Bauduc, Bud Freeman, Joe Sullivan, Eddie Condon, Mannie Klein, Dave Tough, Red McKenzie, Pee Wee Russell, Fud Livingston, Glenn Miller, Irving Brodsky, Joe Tarto, Mickey Bloom, Rube Bloom, Babe Russin, Adrian Rollini, Tommy Dorsey, Tony Parenti, Annette Hanshaw, Eddie Miller, and other New York Reliables — all of this in 1929-30. He surfaces again on some hot recordings by the Abe Lyman band in 1933, and then not again until working with Rosy McHargue in 1957, and — fittingly — he is the sole trumpet, out in the open, on his final recordings with Jack Teagarden in Jack’s Sextet that same year: the soundtrack from a television program, a July appearance at the Newport Jazz Festival, and a promotional record of the Marlboro cigarette jingle in September — alongside Jerry Fuller, Don Ewell, Stan Puls, and Monte Mountjoy.
I can’t offer JAZZ LIVES readers tangible evidence of Tommy’s sweet sound, but here are two records where he is said to be playing.  Is that him on the bridge of I’VE GOTTA HAVE YOU?  (The pleasure of hearing Red McKenzie — and tenor saxophone soloing by Pee Wee Russell — makes up for all uncertainties.)
Other recordings on YouTube might have Tommy in the personnel: a search will turn up some lovely music from Annette Hanshaw, among others.
But now for the photographs!
Here’s bandleader Abe Lyman, inscribed to Vonne:
Abe Lyman
“Jean Wakefield and her Mischief Makers”:
Jean Wakefield & Her Mischief Makers
All I know about mischievous Jean is she and the Makers are listed in the radio section of the Berkeley, California, Daily Gazette for Saturday, November 7, 1931, broadcasting over KLX at 7 PM. (Airchecks, anyone?)  To me, the most important part of that photograph is the inscription on the left.
Here’s a band appearing at a nightspot with its own kind of transient fame, Fatty Arbuckle’s Cobblestone Cafe:
Cobblestone Cafe (Fatty Arbuckle's) (1)
and some needed identification:
Cobblestone Cafe Name List
I haven’t found any reference to the Cobblestone Cafe, although I don’t have a biography of Arbuckle at hand.  He was dead in mid-1933 and this photograph is from some decades later.  Aside from Tommy, the most famous musician, pianist Arthur Schutt, who lived until 1965, is hidden from view.  Clarinetist Gene Bolen, however, recorded from the late Fifties onwards, so I await informed speculations about a more precise dating.
Rosy McHargue (1)
Rosy McHargue and his Dixieland Band, dated 1953:
Rosy McHargue Name List (1)
I hope we will find out more about the life and music of Tommy Thunen, not only from his daughter.
I think of him as a professional musician who is now characterized, if at all, as a “jazz musician,” then a “studio musician,” perhaps a “Dixieland jazz player.”
But the music we hold dear is not simply a matter of famous soloists and stars, the people about whom biographies are written, but of reliable professionals whose names aren’t famous, indispensable craftspeople nevertheless. These quiet men and women might appear predictably bourgeois, not exciting.  But any communal art form — be it jazz, the symphony, or the theatre — needs people one can count on to be on time, well-prepared, clean, sober, expert.  After the fact, people tell tales of the brilliant musician who is also unpredictable — but such artists are at best hard on everyone’s nervous system. But we are more intrigued by Jack Purvis or Charlie Parker than Mannie Klein or Hilton Jefferson.
How many beautiful players were there who did their work superbly but never got interviewed, whose names were known only to fellow musicians and discographers . . . who made the whole enterprise of music go on as it did?
I’d like to see books called THE JAZZ PROFESSIONALS — consider among thousands Harold Baker, Buster Bailey, Murray McEachern, Helen Humes and Nick Fatool — people who didn’t lead bands or win Metronome polls, but who were the very foundation of what we take for granted.
And Tommy Thunen, about whom we now know a little more, thanks to his daughter.
May your happiness increase!

BY THEIR OWN HAND(S)!

I visit eBay intermittently, to see what marvels are there.  Some of the artifacts simply make me wonder.  A fairly constant stream of obvious forgeries of Louis’ very distinctive signature.  Autographed pictures of voluptuous women tenor saxophonists.

Even more autographs from Dave Brubeck and Les Paul — I wonder how much time, in their final years, these aging giants spent signing every and anything pushed in front of them.

But here are some extraordinary sightings.

A first edition of Eddie Condon’s WE CALLED IT MUSIC (1947) inscribed to Kid Ory:

EDDIE CONDON to KID ORY

The inscription reads: “Dear Ory, This copy is somewhat battered from being dragged about the country in a flannel banjo case, kicked under tables of basement dinners, and spotted with licorice gin and cigarette burns. (You know how rowdy the crowds in Zibart’s are, especially when it comes to their last copy). See you at Eddie’s. Your’n, Satcho”.

BOJANGLES 1929A truly glorious autographed photo of Bill Robinson, 1929.

Here are a few people I celebrate, but whose autographs I rarely see.

OMER SIMEON 1958

The wondrous clarinetist Omer Simeon.

CHARLIE TEAGARDEN

The underrated trumpeter Charlie Teagarden, Jack’s younger brother.

FRANK CARLSON

Woody Herman’s Decca-period drummer, Frank Carlson, promising to return.

HERB COWENS

Drummer Herbert “Kat” Cowans and his little band — hot felines, no doubt.  Does anyone recognize the Kittens, one by one?

JACK TEAGARDEN

The 1962 recording, MIS’RY AND THE BLUES, signed by Jack Teagarden, Don Goldie, and Stan Puls.

Here’s Mister Tea in 1950-1, surrounded by giants: Louis, Earl Hines, Barney Bigard, Arvell Shaw, Cozy Cole.  Usually only Louis signed in green ink; did he pass his fountain pen around for everyone to use?

LOUIS ALL-STARS 1951

And here’s another real Louis signature (as a public service, so that you can recognize the banal forgeries when they appear):

LOUIS

Finally, a treasure:FATS RECEIPT

I saved the best for last.

One hundred dollars was a great deal of money in 1936.  But Fats had it backwards.  We owe him, and still do.

May your happiness increase!

A HALF-HOUR WITH JACK TEAGARDEN IN TOKYO, 1959

Just astonishing.

Jack with Max Kaminsky, cornet; Jerry Fuller, clarinet; Don Ewell, piano; Lee Ivory, bass (a serviceman filling in for Stan Puls, who had had an emergency appendectomy); Ronnie Greb, drums … a Japanese jazz band and a 45-piace string  orchestra.  Recorded for JOKR-TV, Tokyo, early January 1959.

The theme, I GOTTA RIGHT TO SING THE BLUES, leads into THAT’S A PLENTY, and an appearance by a Japanese small band.  Then comes music even more remarkable: Jack accompanied by a local symphony orchestra on STARS FELL ON ALABAMA, DIANE, PEG O’MY HEART, a slow BACK HOME AGAIN IN INDIANA.  Then the Japanese band appears and the program closes with the SAINTS.

What’s astonishing about this — particularly the segment with the symphony, which is as lovely as anything you could want — is the simple beauty of Jack’s pure, deep, melodic playing.  The myth surrounding Jack (parallel to the one draped around his friend Louis) is that after the Twenties he was a shadow of his earlier self, repeating the same solos night after night.  I would urge anyone who has even entertained this idea (I confess I have) to listen very closely to Jack’s earnest, understated ballads here.  And although he looks tired, he is in beautiful form.  Trombonists will admire his rich tone, his easy mastery, how he makes it seem so simple.

I think of what Bobby Hackett told Max Jones: “The Good Lord told [Jack], ‘Now you go on down there and show them how to do it,'”as if Teagarden was a celestial figure — true enough.

Thanks to Steve Williams  — whose YouTube channel, vitajazz is full of hot jazz and other surprises.

May your happiness increase.

1959: JACK, BOBBY, GENE, KENNY

I don’t quite know how “Wolfgang’s Vault” tapped into the great store of recordings made — presumably for the Voice of America — for the 1959 Newport Jazz Festival, but the second neatly-wrapped present has arrived.  What interests me are two sets: one featuring the master, Jack Teagarden, with his working band of the time (Don Goldie, trumpet; Henry Cuesta, clarinet; Don Ewell, piano; Stan Puls, bass; Ronnie Greb, drums).  Aside from delightful work from Ewell — in ensemble as well as solo — and a very happy Teagarden, the band itself is workmanlike rather than inspired.  But for ROYAL GARDEN BLUES, a medley of ROCKIN’ CHAIR and BODY AND SOUL, and a closing SAINTS, Teagarden got to add his great friend and colleague (they had been recording together for more than twenty years) Bobby Hackett, who plays splendidly.  Goldie, a very competent lead trumpeter with marvelous facility but less imagination, chooses to play a chorus or two of trades with Hackett, which perhaps a wiser man would have avoided.  But Hackett has BODY AND SOUL to himself — two and a-half exquisite minutes, after which Teagarden says, “Wonderful!  Bobby Hackett!  The most beautiful trumpet in the world.  Just trumpet from heaven.”  And although I feel sorry for Goldie, I wouldn’t argue with Teagarden’s praise.  SAINTS, taken too fast, closes the set.  Goldie’s second try at a Louis Armstrong imitation is a liability; Ewell’s rocking stride and Hackett’s soaring solo more than make up for it.

Hear for yourself: http://www.wolfgangsvault.com/jack-teagarden-with-bobby-hackett/concerts/newport-jazz-festival-july-05-1959.html

Three days earlier, the Gene Krupa Quartet had performed at Newport, with pianist Ronnie Ball, Lester Young-inspired tenor saxophonist and clarinetist Eddie Wasserman, and bassist Jim Gannon.  Wasserman is rather off-mike, but that allows us to hear Krupa, in enthusiastic form, work his way through SWEET GEORGIA BROWN, a medium-tempo WORLD ON A STRING, a slow LOVER MAN, and a twelve-minute STOMPIN’ AT THE SAVOY.  Again, this set is primarily notable for Krupa — fiercely himself wherever he was, which is something to admire, even amongst jazz writers eager for “innovation” and “development.”  Krupa did attempt to go with the fashion of late-Forties bebop (the musical equivalent of the berets and dark glasses his musicians wore for photographs) but he did play much the same way in 1972 — when I saw him last — as he had in 1938.  Why?  Because it sounded good, as it does here.

http://www.wolfgangsvault.com/gene-krupa-quartet/concerts/newport-jazz-festival-july-02-1959.html 

Finally, there’s a set from July 3, 1959, featuring Phil Napoleon on trumpet, Harry DiVito, trombone, the wondrous Kenny Davern on clarinet, the still-active Johnny Varro on piano, Pete Rogers, bass, and Sonny Igoe, drums. 

I haven’t had the opportunity to listen to this set, but the combination of Davern and Varro — or Davern and anyone — is enough for me.

http://www.wolfgangsvault.com/phil-napoleon-and-his-original-memphis-five/concerts/newport-jazz-festival-july-03-1959.html

Although I would assume that the estates of the artists aren’t receiving payment for the dissemination of their music, at least more people are getting to hear it — pushing away the day when no one knows who Bobby Hackett, Jack Teagarden, or Gene Krupa is.  (Not “was,” mind you.)  Wolfgang’s Vault is also featuring other concerts from this edition of the Newport Jazz Festival, including Dizzy Gillespie . . . rarities coming to the surface for us to hear!  What’s next?  I have my fingers crossed that someday the concerts from the first years of the Festival will surface: I’ve been reading about those lineups for years.  Someday, Wolfgang?