Larry Kart

Yes -- last season and re-runs. One of my favorites. Kyra Sedgwick (a.k.a. Mrs. Kevin Bacon ) can be a bit over the top at times, but then her character is meant to be a bit over the top; that's one of the premises of the show. Also, the interaction among members of the squad is as good (realistic, funny-relaxed, coherent over time) as I've ever seen on a cop show, with the possible exception of vintage "Barney Miller." Also, most of the scripts preserve a good deal of tension as to who the guilty party is, and when we find out, we usually don't feel tricked or cheated.

He sure couldn't be talking about the Charles Tyler I know.

Nice night. Here's an e-mail I sent to a musician-friend who is also a friend of trumpeter Jaimie Branch: "Caught Jaimie's group last night. Guess I hadn't hear her for good while (or almost anyone else, for that matter), because the growth was remarkable and in some ways reminiscent of what happened with you way back when. That is, it sounds she's been practicing like crazy and partially as a result of that jumped over or stepped around several hurdles that are at once technical and conceptual. To put it another way, she sounds very relaxed and confident, and when you're relaxed and confident, you think of doing and are able to do lot of different things. "Michel Zerang had the flu and couldn't make it, which left a Rempis/Bishop/Kessler trio. I tried at one point to just listen to Jeb as carefully as possible and let everything else take care of itself, which worked out nicely because there's something about Rempis at times that basically reactive and decorative (though very much in good, strong ways IMO). Aside from his sheer ability to play his instruments, what strikes me most about Rempis is how clear everything is, though that clarity seems related to the fact that (or my sense that) his music takes place on one plane only, more or less -- though again this works for him. It's like a Jimmy Dorsey thing, if you know what I mean (though I'm not sure I do myself). Kessler took a really fine solo at one point. It had a definite middle-aged-man-within-sight-of-the-far-horizon feel to it, which appeals to me, as I'm about to turn 65."

Go here: http://www.jazzdiscography.com/Lenox/lenhome.htm for much more information about the Lenox School of Jazz from sometime poster Michael Fitzgerald.

If body and soul co-operate, I'll be there. BTW, my son informed me yesterday that he bestowed the name Battlecats on Battlecats.

If Tony were a real person -- and for moment, I'll assume he is -- the reason he turned against Hesch is that Tony displayed weakness or vulnerability to him; he had to borrow money from Hesch, couldn't pay it back right away, and Hesch knew why. Not a good thing if you're a mob boss. Likewise, I'll admit that it was a nice touch that Phil's approach to Vinnie's son was totally cruel, crude and obtuse, while Tony's up to a point was based on a fair degree of insight and empathy -- but then Tony's eventual remedy (paying to have the kid hauled off to some deprogramming camp) turned out to be far more brutal (and quite likely will be more destructive to the kid's well being) than anything Phil could have dreamed up.

Nah, I think it was more of a sign that Tony is trying to get it together and the gambling problem is history. I would agree this season is much more interesting than the last couple. I could have done without the kid taking a shit in the shower, but I'm enjoying the story line between Phil and Tony. If Tony's gambling problem is now history, then to hell with them for introducing it.

They mean that his note choice is not grounded in conventional theory. And sometimes they're right, and sometimes I really do think that Murray skates (or has skated in the past) in that regard. It's one thing to go outside the changes with direction, it's another thing entirely to flat out play wrong notes. They also mean that he's worked up a set of easily-contrived "devices" that he uses in lieu of conventional saxophone technique. And again, sometimes they've been right. But he's refined and expanded a lot of those devices to the point where I think that they can now be considered a legitimate personal vocabulary. They also mean that his swing is funny. And that's something that still bugs me about him. He can swing his rapid-fire shit like a mofo, but his eighth notes still sound funny to me. And I don't know if he's yet to discover that between the eight & thirty-second notes lie the sixteenth note... But still, he does what he does and I have to think that his sense of swing is his own. If he really wanted it to be otherwise, it would be by now. They also mean that his time is funny sometimes. And sometimes it is. Sometimes there's a sense of rushing (both within the line & in terms of the structure) in his playing that I find pretty distasteful. But only sometimes. So yeah, the guy has not been without flaws. And as Larry Kart somewhat noted a while back, if you want to hear this style tenor really played really right, check out Ed Wilkerson & get on with it. But to say that Murray just flat out can't play is so much inbred anality, as is the "white critic's darling" which almost always translates as "Gee, I put in hours learning to play this instrument correctly and nobody cares." Well hey there, Mister Phil Woods In Waiting, big fucking shit. Try using that "skill" for an end other than itself and we'll share a tear. Until then, go get a gig where people who don't know any different think you're a hero who's gotten screwed over by the world. Opportunities abound! You can't buy the kind of smarts Mr. Sangrey has. Sometime I'm going to carve a Sangrey "collected works" out of what he's posted on Organissimo, plus some stuff of his from the BNBB that I hope I've squirreled away, and see if it can't be preserved and disseminated in some form.

I have no clue how the white critics feel about him, but the "couldn't play at all" claim is crap -- whoever told you that has no clue what they are talking about. Guy Leaving me out of this -- and please do -- if that "well known Coltrane-linked saxophonist" that Soul Steam cited is someone whose music you respect (BTW I don't know who that saxophonist is), would you still feel that there is no room at all for disagreement here?

Not this white critic.

Teachout gets some things wrong: He writes, "prior to 2004, Pulitzer [music] juries consisted of four composers and a critic," but even though that's what it says on the Pulitzer website, from the inception of the Pulitzer music award in 1943 until the early 1990s (more about that later), Pulitzer music juries consisted almost exclusively of composers (usually three of them). The only exceptions to this, I believe, were, on one occasion each, critic Irving Kolodin and conductor-writer Robert Craft. Second, to say that "the Pulitzer Prize had ... a bad reputation among music professionals" is a statement so baldly incomplete as to border on being back-ass-wards. The problem with the music Pulitzers from the very first until recent tinkerings were undertaken -- and one can argue about how much of a problem it was and what the solution to that problem might or should have been -- is that the music Pulitzer juries consisted ENTIRELY of music professionals of a certain sort or sorts: American composers whose works were being paid attention to by other American composers of so-called "serious" concert music. Within this bag, there were fluctuating waves of fashion over the years -- Copland-esque Americanists, university-based serialists, etc. -- but Pulitzer music juries, again, consisted for better or for worse entirely, given the nature of the world or worlds of American classical composition, of people who can only be called professional composers. So who were Teachout's music professionals with whom the music Pulitzers had a bad reputation? Professional composers by the standard mentioned above who were not in tune with the compostional in-group of a particular time -- say Samuel Barber-esque neo-Romantics during the height of the academic serialist phase? Or by "music professionals" does Teachout mean professional performers and conductors? If so, that would be a whole differerent matter, and a whole different set of considerations would have to be brought to bear. (For one thing, how many performers and conductors are able or willing to become familiar with the current state of American composition. In practice, in my experience, the performers and conductors who do that are no less, or even more so, a group of specialists than the composers who have been on all those Pulitzer juries over the years.) In any case, before we go any further, here is a list of the Pulitzer music winners from 1943 to 2001 (though as I'll explain in a minute, things began to get weird behind the scenes in 1992): 1943 William Schuman (b. 1910). Secular Cantata No. 2: A Free Song for full chorus of mixed voices, with accompaniment of orchestra. 1944 Howard Hanson (1896-1981). Symphony no. 4, op. 34. 1945 Aaron Copland (1900-1990). Appalachian Spring. 1946 Leo Sowerby (1895-1968). The Canticle of the Sun. 1947 Charles Ives (1874-1954). Symphony no. 3. 1948 Walter Piston (1894-1976). Symphony no. 3 1949 Virgil Thomson (1896-1989). Louisiana Story. (Score for a documentary film.) 1950 Gian-Carlo Menotti (b. 1911). The Consul. (Opera.) 1951 Douglas Moore (1893-1969). Giants in the Earth. (Opera.) 1952 Gail Kubik (1914-1984). Symphony Concertante. 1953 Not awarded. 1954 Quincy Porter (1897-1966). Concerto Concertante for Two Pianos and Orchestra. 1955 Gian-Carlo Menotti (b. 1911). The Saint of Bleecker Street. (Opera in three acts.) 1956 Ernst Toch (1887-1964). Symphony no. 3. 1957 Norman Dello Joio (b. 1913). Meditations on Ecclesiastes. 1958 Samuel Barber (1910-1981). Vanessa. (Opera.) 1959 John La Montaine (b. 1920). Concerto for Piano and Orchestra, op. 9. 1960 Elliott Carter (b. 1908). Second String Quartet. 1961 Walter Piston (1894-1976). Symphony no. 7. 1962 Robert Ward (b. 1917). The Crucible. (Opera.) 1963 Samuel Barber (1910-1981). Piano Concerto no. 1, op. 38. 1964 Not awarded. 1965 Not awarded. 1966 Leslie Bassett (b. 1923). Variations for Orchestra. 1967 Leon Kirchner (b. 1919). Quartet no. 3 for strings and electronic tape. 1968 George Crumb (b. 1929). Echoes of Time and the River. 1969 Karel Husa (b. 1921). String Quartet no. 3. 1970 Charles Wuorinen (b. 1938). Time's Encomium. 1971 Mario Davidovsky (b. 1934). Synchronisms no. 6. 1972 Jacob Druckman (1928-1996). Windows. 1973 Elliott Carter (b. 1908). String quartet no. 3. 1974 Donald Martino (b. 1931). Notturno. 1975 Dominick Argento (b. 1927). From the Diary of Virginia Woolf. 1976 Ned Rorem (b. 1923). Air Music. 1977 Richard Wernick (b. 1934). Visions of Terror and Wonder. 1978 Michael Colgrass (b. 1932). Deja Vu for Percussion and Orchestra. 1979 Joseph Schwantner (b. 1943). Aftertones of Infinity. 1980 David Del Tredici (b. 1937). In Memory of a Summer Day. 1981 Not awarded. 1982 Roger Sessions (1896-1985). Concerto for Orchestra. 1983 Ellen Zwilich (b. 1939). Three Movements for Orchestra. (Symphony no. 1.) 1984 Bernard Rands (b. 1934). Canti del Sole. 1985 Stephen Albert (1941-1992). Symphony RiverRun. 1986 George Perle (b. 1915). Wind Quintet no. 4, for flute, oboe, clarinet, horn, and bassoon. 1987 John Harbison (b. 1938). The Flight into Egypt. 1988 William Bolcom (b. 1938). 12 New Etudes for Piano. 1989 Roger Reynolds (b. 1934). Whispers Out of Time. 1990 Mel D. Powell (1923-1998). Duplicates: A Concerto. 1991 Shulamit Ran (b. 1947). Symphony. 1992 Wayne Peterson (b. 1927). The Face of the Night. 1993 Christopher Rouse (b. 1949). Trombone Concerto. 1994 Gunther Schuller (b. 1925). Of Reminiscences and Reflections. 1995 Morton Gould (1931-1996). Stringmusic. 1996 George Walker (b. 1922). Lilacs for soprano and orchestra. 1997 Wynton Marsalis (b. 1961). Blood on the Fields. Oratorio. 1998 Aaron Jay Kernis (b. 1960). String Quartet No. 2, Musica Instrumentalis 1999 Melinda Wagner. Concerto for Flute, Strings, and Percussion. 2000 Lewis Spratlan. Life is a Dream, opera in three acts: ACT II, Concert Version. 2001 John Corigliano. Symphony No. 2 for String Orchestra. As it happens, I'm familiar with a fair number of those works and think of the following Pulitzer winners as either outright masterworks or very notable pieces: Copland's Appalachian Spring, Ives' Sym. No. 3, the two Piston symphonies, the two Carter String Quartets, Barber's "Vanessa" and his Piano Concerto, Thomson's "Louisiana Story," Kirchner's String Quartet No. 3, Powell's Duplicates, Perle's Wind Quintet, Sessions' Concerto for Orchestra, Del Tredici's In a Memory of Summer Day, Toch's Sym. No. 3, and Martino's Notturno. Schuman is a talented composer, but I don't know his Pulitzer-winning work. I also don't know the Husa String Quartet No. 3, though I admire other works by him. So that's a success rate, by my own subjective standard, of about thirty per cent -- which I don't think is too bad for an award that is constrained by its annual nature (that is, if a number of major works crop up in say, 1959, only one going to win) . Also, FWIW, the stylistic range of the pieces I've just listed is pretty darn wide, no? Now all that needs to be modified by a list of the great or notable works that didn't get Pulitzers. Leaving aside for a bit the question of the kinds of music that arguably ought to get into the Pulitzer mix that haven't or didn't over the years, I'd have to think about this for a while to be sure, but the only names that leap to my mind right now are John Adams (and he did get a Pulitzer in 2003 for his 9/11 piece "On The Transmigration of Souls"), John Cage, and Morton Feldman. Teachout's list probably would include Adams, but not Cage or Feldman. Who else he feels has been unjustly left out I don't know, unless and until we open the music of other kinds bag -- though when it did in fact get opened or begin to get opened in in the Pulitzer world in 1992, it was inextricably part of a bureaucratic power struggle that would lead directly to the IMO infamous arm-twisting award to Blood On The Fields. Here's the visible, widely reported story of the 1992 music Pulitzers: "A controversial music Pulitzer was awarded in 1992 and spawned a tidal wave of responses and commentaries in newspapers throughout the country. The Pulitzer music jury, George Perle, Roger Reynolds, and Harvey Sollberger, unanimously chose Ralph Shapey's "Concerto Fantastique" for the award. However, the Pulitzer Board rejected that recommendation, choosing instead the jury's second choice, 'The Face of the Night' by Wayne Peterson. The music jury responded with a public statement stating that the jury had not been consulted in that decision and that the Board was not professionally qualified to make a decision. The Board responded that the 'pulitzers are enhanced by having, in addition to the professional's point of view, the layman's or consumer's point of view.' The Board did not rescind its decision." A whole lot more went on being the scenes here, about which I can't comment in public. But suffice it to say that Pulitzer music juries have been more or less packed (in a new and quite deliberate manner) since '92 (this is when journalists were added to the jury), and that it was one such journalist, Howard Reich of the Chicago Tribune, who engineered the award to Blood on the Fields, in conjunction with felllow jury member John Lewis, recipient of a commission from J@LC. Reich BTW has writen quite freely about how he accomplished this. The problem here is that while some jazz works are works in the sense that the Pulitzer music prize outlines, many of the most important acts of jazz creation are not works in that sense but more sequential affairs that call for if not a literal lifetime achievement award, something of that sort. Just think of Lee Konitz, for one. Obviously ineligible by strict Pulitzer standards, but... Back now to Ornette's Pulitzer and Teachout's piece. After what occurred in '92, which initiated the jury-packing process that first bore the fruit it was designed to bear with Blood On The Fields, I'd say that most if not all bets are off here, and that that is the real story with the music Pulitzers. So Ornette's award is a lifetime achievement award in disguise, and Sound Grammar was a fine album IMO but not a work as the music Pulitzer defines a work. Well, if that's the standard, we'd get very few jazz-related "orthodox" Pulitzers ever, only actual lifetime achievement awards or such awards in disguise. And if that's what Ornette's Pulitzer really is, I don't have any problem with it, although I will freely admit that the music Pulitzers are more or less fixed now, even when they go to someone who arguably is deserving. On the other hand, I'd be just as happy, maybe even happier, if there were no jazz-related Pulitzers given unless they fell under the orthodox Pulitzer standards. If that means Bob Brookmeyer gets one, that would be nice. But I'm afraid it would go to Maria Schneider -- either that or, once other claques are heard, it would be, as Teachout the neo-Mencken says, prizes for everyone.

The place to begin with Handy is his writing for Boyd Raeburn, e.g. "Tonsillectomy," "Dalvatore Sally," and "Forgetful."

Thanks to Fer Urbina for posting that DB review of "By George." Amazing the things you can selectively remember from 52 years ago. Makes me understand how it's possible to, say, memorize the Koran.

I know some of Wilder's chamber music for winds but had no idea that George Russell had recorded this MGM album. Curiouser and curiouser, because I think Wilder 's music would strike Russell as fairly bland. Maybe it was just a gig for him, or maybe Wilder's credentials among jazz "progressives" at that time was much I higher than I would have thought. Personally, I rate Wilder's better pop songs much higher than I do these instrumental pieces.

Happy Birthday, Joe. I need to hear you guys in-person again soon.

P.S. Does anyone recall or have access to the Down Beat review of "By George"? As I recall, "Handyland U.S.A." got five stars, but "By George" was kicked in the shins.

Just picked this up on Fresh Sound -- it was made for Label "X" in 1955, after "Handyland U.S. A." with Dick Sherman, David Schildkraut, Frank Rehak and others. First time through, I found it intriguing yet also a bit confusing/unsatisfying; the fairly consistent ensemble emphasis on flute/oboe/violin (Gene Orloff) lines seemed a bit arty-pretentious at times, as though those classical-associated textures were there as much because they were felt by Handy to be classy as for other reasons. (Echoes of Alec Wilder?) Also, while those passages are handsomely played for the most part, on the final track, "Knobby Knees," either oboist Tommy Mack is out of tune or his lines are so awkwardly placed harmonically in relation to the rest of the ensemble that it sounds like he's out of tune. On the other hand, I feel as though increased familiarity with this music (it's very dense) may leave me squarely in the camp of latter-day Handy and his "tone poems" (so they are called). Also, this is an essential disc for Schildkraut admirers. Anyone who thinks of him merely as a very successful Bird emulator will have to abandon that view, I think; Schildkraut's lightning-quick sensitivity to the in's and out's of Handy's writing is amazing, like ESP -- at times, if you find Handy rather "bitty" or precious at times, it's like Schildkraut's responses to Handy's writing are pulling the whole affair over toward where it should have been in the first place, coalescing what may or may not be somewhat wayward gestures on Handy's part into honed, pointed statements. Sherman and Rehak are in fine form too. Sound quality -- this is no doubt dubbed from an LP -- is not ideal (congested textures in the mid range, and this is again dense stuff to begin with), but I could alter things pretty successfully with tone controls.

I'm not saying it isn't a good book, but why or how the hell would John McWhorter know? I do know that Edward Jablonski's "Gershwin" is excellent.

Allen -- On what album can "Drop Me A Line" be found? Haven't been able to track it down myself.

I met Jesse Jackson in the lobby of a Chicago office building. He is tall.

I'm sure he did give her plenty of reasons. I'm just saying that, based on that one encounter, her ability to dramatize her anger, however justified that anger might have been, seemed to me to be world class.

Spent an interesting afternoon-evening with Dexter once at the time '"Round Midnight" came out -- among other things, he was full of shrewd, beautifully put views on other tenor players -- but only gradually did it became clear that the main (though I hope not the only) reason he wanted me to stick around was that my presence and our conversation was keeping a seething Maxine G. from tearing into him about something or other. This was in a hotel suite in Chicago, and she was stomping around in the bedroom, periodically opening the door to see if the path to Dexter was clear and then slamming the door when she saw it was not. I sure wouldn't have wanted to be on her bad side. Little Red, indeed.

Whew! That's some memories...Add Herbie Nichols,McCoy and Hancock and that's about all of my favorites....none of which I have heard live. Go Chuck! I would be interested to know your opinion of who you felt put on the best show in that setting? I have a friend who speaks quite fondly of Bradley's. I was there once or twice and recall that the level of conversation on those occasions was incredibly high. In particular, I recall sitting one table away from John Hicks and hardly being able to hear a note he was playing, let alone the bassist, because the people at the table in between were almost yelling at each other in an attempt to be heard above the general din. I said something about this to Hicks between sets and don't remember exactly what he then said, except that it was the verbal equivalent of shaking his head sideways as in, "I know, I know."

It's Benny Goodman"s "Sing, Sing, Sing," though it may not be the original studio recording or the famous Carnegie Hall concert one. There have been many later versions, though virtually all in the mould of the original.

Haven't heard it since it came out, but Steig's playing on "Flute Fever" struck me as narcissistic doodling. It was like he had an idea ( or perhaps that should be an "idea") about how to gee-up jazz flute playing, but either jazz flute playing didn't particularly need that idea or too much of what Steig did stayed at the level of "Hey -- look at my idea." I recall a piece about Steig -- I think it was in The New Yorker of all places, either thanks to his old man's connection there or because the writer was a friend of his -- in which Steig complained bitterly about how producer John Hammond had virtually ignored him at the "Flute Fever" recording session in favor of Denny Zeitlin. "Excitable boy, they all said."