Mark Stryker

Generally, I like what I've heard, even if reservations pop up at times. Have heard a number of pieces in concert going back to "Veni Veni" (with Glennie) which is a knockout. Others have struck me overbearing and overeager; but I'm always interested in more of his music. FWIW, here are excerpts from two of my Detroit Free Press reviews, the first from 2006 and the second from last spring: ------ It was disconcerting that the hilarious raspberry of sound that opens Scotsman James MacMillan's "Britannia" -- squished together military tunes, an Irish reel, absurd quotes like "God Save the Queen" and intemperate duck calls and car horn blats -- elicited nary a chuckle from those sitting near me Thursday at Orchestra Hall. C'mon, people. This is funny stuff! One of the problems with contemporary musical life is that the concert hall has become so starched that listeners are afraid to surrender to the obvious. There is humor in classical music: Haydn's witty turns of melody and dynamics; dead-pan "wrong notes" in Prokofiev; Charles Ives' thumb-in-the-eye send-ups of gentility; biting satire in Shostakovich. Sure, high-modernism can be dry-as-dust. After all, nothing kills a party like combinatorial hexachords. But postmodernists are a jolly bunch, from John Adams in his trickster mode to John Zorn creating zany collages inspired by cartoon music; a bit of Bugs Bunny Dada has also seeped into "Britannia." Which brings us back to MacMillan (b. 1959), who is conducting the Detroit Symphony Orchestra's mostly British program this week, culminating in Edward Elgar's "Enigma Variations." Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 21 is an incongruous interloper, but soloist Stephen Hough is a Brit. (In pre-concert remarks, MacMillan suggested the concerto's light touch links the piece with his and Elgar's, but this is a stretch.) MacMillan's music often references his Catholic faith, but the 13-minute "Britannia" represents his jester side. The delights include a curiously thumping tom-tom and snatches of harp beneath a solo violin jig and brittle marches that interrupt limpid pastorals. But then the pace slows and the music turns darker, dappled by somber dissonance. Glassy strings add a chilly glare. The high jinks return but now the jokes seem less funny than disturbing. The nose-thumbing tweaks of Mother England have morphed into pointed comments on the evils of xenophobic nationalism. That's a clever switcheroo that MacMillan pulls off beautifully. ... ------ It's hard to imagine new works for piano as different in style, temperament, form and effect as the pieces by James MacMillan and Charles Wuorinen that were introduced to metro Detroit over the weekend. This makes perfect sense given these composers' biographies: At 75, Wuorinen, a native New Yorker, is one of the grand old men of high modernism, known for the knotty complexity and expressive muscularity of his scores. MacMillan, a Scotsman born in 1959, came of age in the 1980s and early '90s, when composers were exploring more eclectic languages, and he has consistently drawn inspiration from Catholic faith. Still, the contrast between MacMillan's Piano Concerto No. 3, played by Jean-Yves Thibaudet with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, and Wuorinen's "Intrada, " given its world premiere Sunday by Peter Serkin for the Chamber Music Society of Detroit, opened a revealing window on our pluralist age. In an era in which no single compositional style reigns supreme, the governing motto recalls bandleader Jimmie Lunceford's dictum from 1938: T'ain't what you do, it's the way that you do it. Premiered in 2011, MacMillan's 25-minute concerto titled "The Mysteries of Light" is fundamentally tonal, expansive in form, ecstatic in expression, gleaming and clangorous in its scoring and programmatic in intent. MacMillan's Catholic faith, specifically the rosary, provides the program, and the music often sounds as if the composer were trying to capture the vastness of the great beyond. Looming large is the shadow of Olivier Messiaen, the indispensable 20th Century French composer, also heavily influenced by Catholicism. Messiaen's raucous mysticism has left its mark on MacMillan's score in the blaring brass, dazzling pianistic pirouettes, animated and tolling percussion and otherworldly harmony. A fleeting plainsong refrain opens the work and reoccurs as a linking device; the music unfolds in five episodic and dramatic sections. The piano writing is unremittingly virtuosic, ridiculously so at times, yet at Friday morning's performance Thibaudet untangled even the swiftest passages with a pristine clarity and a remarkable lightness of being. Still, MacMillan's melodic material is not always memorable, and the relentless speed and shattering climaxes eventually began to sound mannered, longwinded and a little vulgar. ...

Larry was such an important, pioneering scholar and someone who had a huge impact on me when I took his grad-level jazz history seminar as an undergraduatre at the University of Illinois in 1984/85. The central lesson was that the standards and expectations for scholarship about jazz should be just as high as they are for classical music -- but he also imparted wisdom about the necessity of always testing received wisdom against the empirical evidence; lessons about meticulousness, accuracy and objectivity; the differences between fandom, criticism and musicology; the fact that the history of jazz and the history of jazz on record are different things; alternative ways of framing questions of history, and so many specifics relating to periods of jazz history and individual musicians. Lessons that grow in importance for me every year. Larry was also responsible for one of earliest paid writing assignments, having recommended me to the editor of Percussive Notes to write Buddy Rich's obituary in 1987. I used to hear Larry regularly at Friday happy hours at Nature's Table in Urbana, where he led a small band called the New Golden Rule Orchestra, which as a point of pride played no repertoire written after something like 1920. I was not in regular contact with him and last spoke to him probably 15 years ago, maybe longer; but when I look back on the academic classes in college and graduate school that had the most profound impact on me, his was in the top 3. RIP.

I always enjoyed turning up the volume as the fade continues to try and hear every last second of what's going on, especially if cats are improvising or embellishing rather than just repeating the vamp. Please don't end. Please don't end. Please ... oh, shit, it's gone ...

American history is not for the feint of heart.

Jim -- an old friend and teacher of mine from the Univ. of Illinois named Morgan Powell (jazz trombonist/contemporary classical composer & improviser) went to school at UNT in the late '50s/early '60s and taught there for a couple of years, before leaving to teach at Berklee and eventually Urbana. He posted on Facebook recently about Billy and that cover photo. He mentioned another fabulous African-American saxophonist named Claude Johnson who was at UNT perhaps as early as 1960. Per Morgan: "Leon Breeden refused to tour with blacks in the 1st band because of possible controversy, so these two brilliant players played in the 2nd band. Apparently in 1964 Leon felt it safe to have them in the 1st band."

Art on clarinet. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vQA9V5akkmI

Amusing, sometimes hilarious. http://www.vinniesperrazza.org/blog/2014/12/15/five-awkward-conversations-with-paul-motian

Told myself I wouldn't get sucked into this debate and I won't, but the mention of "Sonny Rollins + 3" -- maybe the late-period Rollins record I listen to most -- prompts me to note that it's a pretty fantastic record on any scale you want to employ and in particular Sonny plays the hell out of "I've Never Been in Love Before" with Tommy Flanagan, Bob Cranshaw and Al Foster behind him. Can't locate a link, but it's worth hearing, even if you generally do not warm to late Sonny. It might not change anyone's overall attitude (and I'm ok with that) but it shouldn't be ignored either.

I don't find it odd or unexpected that Sonny didn't recognize these saxophonists. He hasn't listened to contemporary recordings in eons -- in fact, he's been quoted a number of times (including by me) that has he has gotten older he has developed a kind of mental block about listening to recorded music and finds little pleasure in it. I was surprised, in fact, that he agreed to do a blindfold test. Perhaps his attitude/feeling toward listening to recordings at home is changing -- I remember him expressing regret about his condiction, like he really wished he COULD listen more. Of course, whether he recognizes the players is really of secondary interest compared to what he has to say, which I think is often fascinating. He's clearly engaged ... (Also, he actually did recognized Jimmy Heath.) Now, to the extent that not listening to contemporary recordings or today's currents is "telling" in some way, opening up a window on Sonny Rollins the artist, that's a different discussion. But not recognizing Lovano, Brecker, Marsalis, etc.? No biggie. FWIW, here's a "Before & After" from a few years ago. http://jazztimes.com/articles/27620-sonny-rollins-the-gentle-humble-jazz-giant

Great record, folks. A long overdue debut as a leader. Some interesting electronics on here as well as wide-open post-bop blowing. As I said previously, Ryan is an old friend, who played every band I had in college and just after in the early & mid '80s. One interesting coda: Two of the compositions on this date are by John Scott, a trumpet player and very creative composer friend who has an interesting story. He went to Grinnell with Herbie Hancock and later basically wrote "The Maze" (which isn't credited) and co-wrote "A Tribute to Someone" (which is credited). John kicked around Boston, Detroit and Chicago, before eventually going to dental school and landing in Champaign to practice, where he also continued to play and write and profoundly influence several generations of musicians. I bring all this up as a reminder that the music is filled with everyday heroes like John -- such a critical part of the ecosystem.

Add my voice to the chorus. HB, JS

Thanks ...

The Powell set is awesome musically. The sonics and pitch correction are very good considering the source material -- though I haven't heard earlier CD versions so I can't say the degree to which the latest set is better or worse that previous ones and whether it's worth an upgrade depending what you may already have.

A Sinatra question as we move into his 99th birthday on Friday (Dec. 12): Does anyone know if the performances from his 1953-54 radio program "Perfectly Frank" have ever been released in any form? The showed aired for 15 minutes a couple times a week on NBC. My understanding is that Sinatra basically acted as a DJ playing recordings of others, but a couple of times a show would sing (or, more accurately, play taped performances of himself singing with what he called the Sinatra Symphonette, basically a small jazz group with Bill Miller around most of the time on piano. There are a couple of dynamite tunes on youtube from this archive but I can't recall ever seeing or hearing about an official (well, bootleg) release.

More on the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra's visit to play for Clark in the hospital. https://www.facebook.com/wyntonmarsalis/posts/10152832454392976

I know I perhaps hi-jacked my own thread by posing the question of which two records would grab out of your burning house -- but I've avoided answering myself because it's so damn hard. Almost positive that one of them would be "One Step Beyond." But choosing the second one, whew .... I mean, I want Swing, Swang, Swingin', "Bluesnik," the bebop half of "Hipnosis," "Jacknife" and, to put my money where my mouth has been, "Dynasty." Shoulda said you could take three ...

What were the odds?

I'm actually trying to get some clarity from Cuscuna about what exactly it was about those Pep's recordings that merited description as "disastrous." Will report back with new any news.

Larry: Upon reflection, the stronger bias is probably not for the first mature version of the player but for the first version a fan falls in love with. FWIW, I prefer early Holiday to late; late Hines and Hawkins to early Hines and Hawkins; 60s Rollins to 50s or post 1972 but love it all for different reasons. As I often say, if I could play like anybody, it would be Sonny Rollins on a good night in 1965. Soulpope: If you heard Jackie in the early 80s, he was still tied closely to academia and playing inconsistently; that's more connected to the 70s in my mind. His work by the end of the decade was on a whole other level. I don't think the "late" period takes off until 1988 though he's ramping up by '85, Leeway: I wouldn't say McLean was working against fatigue or exhaustion late in life. To the contrary, he was energized -- but in a different way and to different ends, but he was still feeding off a burning desire to express himself through the horn and he was still working in the present tense, his eyes and ears cocked toward the future. I think to put it in terms of fatigue and/or exhaustion is to say that McLean was artistically spent, running on fumes, going through the motions, etc., and that's what I think I find most objectionable about this line of criticism. To be clear: I don't deny changes in the playing (and the life) and I certainly don't deny that the later music simply doesn't move you (or others) as much as the earlier playing and that there are honest reasons for that. What bothers me is ascribing these changes to an artist who ran out of gas. I think that's contrary to both the aural evidence and the life evidence. To paraphrase Don Draper: When a man walks onto the bandstand, he brings his whole life with him. Changing the subject: If your house is burning: What is the one Jackie McLean LP you grab first? Tell you what, since we all love Jackie, I'll let everybody grab two.

I'd go along with the Pepper analysis to the degree that it suggests thoughtful evidence of an apples to oranges comparison with McLean --nicely done, that. Still, I don't think it necessarily negates the broader point that in both cases the winner for many listeners/critics ends up being the earliest mature version of the player and also the version that they fell in love with the first place. By the way, I'm not immune to this tendency either in other cases. Re: 1972 McLean. I love that live date too. But the characterizations of "meaningful hesitations" and "self-reflection" are interesting. I hear some of the same hesitations and clipped phrases and don't hear self-reflection but rather a saxophonist struggling against the horn -- which is beautiful for what it is but not in the way that you're describing. Which brings up the question of how much we project ourselves into the listening experience and the minds of the artists. As that recalls something you brought up the other day in relation to an old piece about Frank D'Rone: the "critic's disease." As I asked then: Is there any vaccine available? I mean, we ALL could use a booster shot every once in a while.

This should clear up the issue of how and why the tapes reverted back to Horace. Cuscuna writes in a blog post today that, with permission of his bosses at United Artists in 1979, he traded away all of the unissued material in the vaults that Horace deemed unworthy of release in exchange for Horace's permission to release the previously unissued material and singles that showed up on "Sterling Silver." I don't think I've ever heard this explanation before ... http://mosaicrecords.tumblr.com/post/103926030585/about-a-horace-silver-bue-note-rarity-sterling

I appreciate your appreciation of Jackie, which I share, but the statement I put in bold above just strikes me as a vast overstatement. Revisionism is fine, I suppose, but at a certain point, it can be carried too far. I think it does a disservice to the many undeniably great albums he did record. Just my 2 cents. I don't think of my opinion as revisionism (as in trying to rewrite conventional wisdom or adopt a willfully contrarian stance.) "Dynasty" to me truly is as great in its way as anything else in Jackie's career, which is not to say I would rank it higher than "Let Freedom Ring" or "One Step Beyond" or other earlier peaks or that I would necessarily call it as "essential." If my praise seems overstated, well, I'm willing to own it. I've spent a lot of time with "Dynasty" -- as I have with the rest of Jackie's catalog (see my post in the BN thread) -- and I find the playing incredibly inspired and moving. I don't hear it as less personal or less urgent than his earlier work, even if that urgency speaks of a different kind of intensity and expression. Moreover, there is a quality of majesty in Jackie's best late work that simply isn't present before. I find that thrilling to hear in the context of the trajectory of his life. It's a remarkable, hard-won victory. Another quality here is that just in terms of sheer command of the saxophone, Jackie's late work is stronger than ever -- his intonation is more consistent, his breath support is better, his execution more on the button and less hesitant. I wonder if this added degree of polish is what others are responding to negatively. Though it should be noted we're still talking about Jackie McLean and it ain't never gonna sound like a studio cat or Phil Woods or whomever, and I'm in no way suggesting that "cleaner" equates to "better." Coda: Everyone listens with their own ears, history, preferences and biases and I would not deny any experienced listener on this board their own reaction. I will note that the early/later dichotomy is always slippery terrain, and it's worth noting that when it comes to another alto player, Art Pepper, that some folks find his early work preferable for its balance and poise and his late work mannered in its groping expressionism -- just the opposite from the views being expressed about Jackie, the only constant being that its the earlier version of each saxophonist that ends up being preferable. For what its worth, I'll take post 1975 Art Pepper any day over the early stuff. Coda 2: It's not on youtube or I'd link to it, but I'd put "A House is Not a Home" on "Dynasty" up against anything from the old days. It's magisterial without mortgaging all of Jackie's rawness (even if it's not AS raw as it would have been 30 years prior, but then it wouldn't have been as soaring either. And that's just the record, I heard Jackie play it two nights in a row in Chicago in the mid 90s and he just destroyed the room.)

OK, so this LP gets shit on a lot, and I get it ... it's of its time and parts are pretty awful. Still, I remember an interview with Jackie at the time this came out in Down Beat in which he's very frank about trying to aim for commercial airplay. So it is what it is.But I have to say, I always found this track quite emotionally affecting -- the narration is heartfelt, Jackie's horn sounds like Jackie's horn, and I even like the background vocals. Your mileage may vary (and probably does), but this track means something to me -- I'm not even quite sure what exactly it means or why it gets to me, but I hear the poignancy and am glad to have been moved. Maybe it's partly a meta-thing: Like Jackie McLean reaching middle age and living in a culture with ears of stone and having to make a commercial record because America doesn't get it and won't reward the "real" Jackie McLean -- I mean, that's some sad, damning shit right there. But even on a fundamental musical level I dig this cut as is, the modernist cultural critiques aside.

From Dynasty:

Strongly recommend you find a copy of "Dynasty" (Amazon has used copies from $2.33). If it doesn't force a revision of opinion, I'll personally refund your money. From there you might try "Jackie Mac Attack," a live quartet performance whose intensity combined with the sound-board recording gives it an especially raw urgency.