Mark Stryker

Don't really have time to post at length about relative merits of Still and Dawson but wanted to note quickly that the Detroit Symphony Orchestra's great recording of Dawson's "Negro Folk Symphony" conducted by Neeme Jarvi is available in two incarnations, one coupled with Still's Second Symphony and Duke Ellington's "Harlem" and one couple with just Ellington ("Harlem," "The River" (suite) and "Solitude." http://www.amazon.com/Still-Symphony-Dawson-Ellington-Harlem/dp/B000000ATE/ref=sr_1_2?s=music&ie=UTF8&qid=1291755478&sr=1-2 http://www.amazon.com/Dawson-Negro-Symphony-Ellington-Solitude/dp/B00005B1DB/ref=sr_1_3?s=music&ie=UTF8&qid=1291755478&sr=1-3 Jarvi and the DSO's equally fabulous recording of Still's First Symphony ("Afro-American") is coupled with Ellington's "The River" http://www.amazon.com/Still-Symphony-Ellington-Suite-River/dp/B000000ARJ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1291755829&sr=1-1 Jarvi programmed music by black composers constantly during his 15-year tenure here and in 1998 took the Still First Symphony to Europe with the DSO -- I was privileged to accompany the orchestra on part of that tour and saw some really interesting reactions to the the piece in Vienna and elsewhere. That music was WAY off the radar for European audiences and and the blues-form of the opening movement and the banjo in the third movement seemed to both shock and mesmerize listeners.

I can think of at least four versions of "Guys and Dolls." Harry Allen-Joe Cohn: http://www.amazon.com/Music-Guys-Dolls-Harry-Allen/dp/B000RPHCNG Eddie Costa: http://www.amazon.com/Guys-Dolls-Vibes-Eddie-Costa/dp/B000059QAK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1291751232&sr=1-1 Manhattan Jazz All Stars (Woods, Brookmeyer, Charles, etc): http://www.amazon.com/SWINGING-GUYS-AND-DOLLS/dp/B0019RU2E2/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1291751451&sr=1-2 Michael Hashim (with Mike LeDonne, Peter Washington, Kenny Washington): http://www.amazon.com/Guys-Dolls-Jazz-Michael-Hashim/dp/B000006KPB/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1291751663&sr=1-2

The liner notes were written and submitted several years ago, before checking a calendar proved that the date is actually in January. Blumenthal told me that the date on the copy he was provided was handwritten, and was unclear whether it said Jan or Jun. It was later nailed down, but the notes were not revised. Knowing that the date was in January, we now know that this is the earliest Joe Henderson we have on record. Thanks for the details. Great playing from KD and Joe on this record -- amazing on many levels, not least of which is Joe's maturity. No wonder he so quickly became a leader on the scene.

Speaking of the new Flamboyan disc, does anyone have a definitive answer to the disconect between the Jan. 15, 1963 date listed on the back and Blumenthal's reference in the notes to a June recording date? My instinct says the earlier date makes more sense, because "Una Mas" appears here under the title of "My Injun from Brazil." If this gig was in the summer, several months after "Una Mas" was recorded, then it would be more logical for Dorham to have been using "Una Mas" as the title by then. In anycase, anybody know the correct details?

As it happens, one of the producers of the new Fisk Jubilee Quartet set is a metro Detroit record collector named Ken Flaherty whom I profile today. He brought the rare 1911 Edison cylinders to the table -- well seven of the nine; two ended up coming from other sources. Anyway, thought folks here might be interested in the story, though it's less about the music per se than about a particular collector's passions. Also look for the link in the right-hand rail to the related story in which he talks about some of the gems in his collection. There are some sound clips in the rail too. Main story here: http://www.freep.com/article/20101205/ENT04/12050358/Detroiter-collects-early-20th-Century-African-American-spirituals

From Detroit: Jack Brokensha (vibes, Australian Jazz Quartet, Motown) Steve Richko (gifted young pianist in his early 30s) Brazeal Dennard (founder of Brazeal Dennard Chorale, fantastic African American choir and expert in African-American spirituals.)

Are you referring to this? http://www.amazon.com/Head-Hunters-Making-Platinum-Perspectives/dp/0472114174/ref=sr_1_6?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1291066433&sr=1-6

My memory might be bad, but I think that Turney was functioning as the third trombonist? On 70th Birthday Concert, there's only two trombonists on the band instead of the usual three. Turney once told me that when he was sitting with the trombones (playing alto) he sometimes transposed the second trombone part and sometimes made up his own part. I can't recall if he said anything more specific about exactly what he meant by "making up his own part." Turney originally came on the band to sub for two weeks for an ailing Hodges in 1969. When Hodges came back, Duke kept him on and he shifted to the trombone section until Hodges died, and then he moved to the lead alto chair. Turney also said that at first Duke was reluctant to have him play saxophone solos for fear people would compare him to Hodges, so his first regular solo was on flute: "I was practicing the flute all the time then, so he (Duke) called me in and started playing some stuff on the piano in D-flat and he said, 'Here, play behind this,' so I played behind it, and that turned into a thing called 'Fife.' That was my first solo." The quotes come from a 1995 story I did about Turney when I was still working in Dayton, Ohio; Turney, who was born in the area, had moved back around 1990. I'd post the story if I could find it, but for some reason it's not in the Nexis data base. I just tracked down the hard copy in my files. He was a sweet man, as was his wife Marilee, but also a tough interview. Staccato sentences, veiled emotions, a bit taciturn. Over dinner, he described at various times Billy Eckstine, Fats Navarro and John Coltrane all with the same eight words: "He was a nice guy. I liked him." He did say this about his time in the Ellington band, however: "Duke had the greatest musicians in the world. When that band was really together, man, they really played. Such a sound you never heard before. I was in there. ... I'd be in that band with all the beautiful sounds floating around you -- there was just nothing like it. I can't explain it. It was the greatest experience of my life."

I listened to this at Marty's suggestion and my reading is very different. They have a nice rapport, lots of laughing, and while Jarrett's ego and self-importance are certainly on display (when are they not?) I don't find him the least bit disrespectful or condescending to McPartland. Also, he does not refuse to duet with her. In the course of conversation, Alec Wilder's tune "Blackberry Winter" comes up and McPartland asks Jarrett if he will play it for her, at which point he declines, saying "I don't know it well enough right now" and then, picking up an earlier thread in their conversation, he makes a lighthearted joke about not only not being able to remember his own material but other peoples' as well. McPartland then asks playfully he would be annoyed if she played it. He says "No, no, no. Why would I be annoyed?" The exchange sounds completely innocent to me, almost charming. I certainly wouldn't defend Jarrett's jerkier moments, but this show hardly qualifies.

I saw trumpeter John McNeil once in a small club in Urbana in 1985. In between tunes he noticed a stray Real Book on the piano. "Hey, there's a Real Book!" he said. "Now we can play a whole bunch of wrong changes."

I agree but this can be a little slippery. Monk recorded "Straight No Chaser" in B-flat I believe, but F has become the standard key because that's where Miles played it on "Milestones." In a related issue, you've got the tunes where the changes have been altered -- Miles' versions of "Well You Needn't" and "Round Midnight" compared to Monk's, and I'm sure there are other examples. Coda: I recall a story from Robin Kelley's Monk bio in which Miles comes off the bandstand and complains to George Wein that Monk was playing the wrong changes to Round Midnight.(!)

At the risk of getting too arcane, are you sure that it's a Rhodes electric piano at that point and not the Wurlitzer (or any other model)? Or were you using Rhodes as the generic for "electric piano" such as Kleenex for "tissue" or Scotch Tape for "cellophane tape"?

"Beatrice" and "Ask Me Now" are the two non-Henderson originals here that remained part of his active repertoire in the last 15 years of his life.

Well, there's no bigger Joe Henderson fan than I am, but I remember being distinctly disappointed when the first volume of these recordings was released on LP, mostly because Al Foster was so deep in the mix there were times it sounded like a tenor-bass duet record; but also because the playing felt oddly inhibited at times. The hand of the producers was too heavy for me, both in the selection of specific material and the fact that the tunes are kept relatively short to presumably allow for more variety in the tracks; but I think Joe was more comfortable and played better when he knew he could really stretch out. I recall the second volume on LP being slightly better in terms of the sound and livelier performances, but I wouldn't swear to it at this point. While I don't own the double CD, I heard parts of it at one point and recall thinking that the sound was much improved. Can anyone confirm this? I have not heard this music in a long time, so perhaps it is time to revisit. Frankly, the record from the same period exploring the same aesthetic but with much greater abandon and inspiration is "An Evening with Joe Henderson," with Charlie Haden and Foster, taped at a concert in Italy and released on Red. It may lack the Blue Note pedigree and hype, but the music is way more killin'.

Mose is celebrating his birthday by performing in metro Detroit this week, including tonight, at this restaurant/jazz club: http://www.metroalive.com/Michigan/grossepointe/dirtydog/ It's owned by Gretchen Valade, an heir to the Carhartt Clothing fortune, owner of Mack Avenue Records and the woman who saved the Detroit International Jazz Festival from extinction by endowing the foundation that now produces it.

You haven't read the notes to Unit Structures, have you... Favorite off-the-wall liner note moment: I have a Spanish bootleg LP of Pete LaRoca's "Turkish Women at the Bath" on what appears to be the Dial Disco, S.A. label, though it's released under Chick Corea's name and the title of "Extasis." The notes are credited to J.M. Costa, with a translated-into-English credit to one Nahuel Cerrutti. I can't vouch for Mr. Cerrutti's Spanish, but his English leaves quite a bit to be desired: Here's the best part (all spellings and grammar sic): "Armando Anthony Corea was borned in Chelsea, Massachusets (July 12, 1941), son of a trumpeter, he started with the piano at the age of four and when he was nineteen he decides to go to New York probably to find better airs. There he blew up himself hearing Coltrane or Miles Davis in company with wome people that shortly after would give grounds for criticism as drummer Philly Joe Jones or reedman Joe Farrell." I've always assumed that "blew up himself" was a literal stab at translating the idiom "blew his mind" ...

I have often wondered about Nora Kelly and how she came to write the notes for those albums, and I have always meant to ask Herbie about this directly. Alas, the last time I had the chance, I forgot to bring it up. I'll remember next time. (Also, I'll try and get some clarity on the Tristano debate discussed elsewhere on the board.) But back to Kelly. Could this be the same Nora Kelly who writes highly regarded mysteries (I haven't read them) and now appears to live in Vancouver? This Nora Kelly was born in 1945, so it's possible, though that would be some pretty precocious writing for someone at age 19 and 20. I have always assumed that if it was not Herbie's idea to have her write the notes it was with his blessing. And if her participation in "Empyrean Isles" came a surprise to him, then he must have dug it because otherwise she surely would not have contributed to "Maiden Voyage." I've always loved these notes -- part of the total atmosphere of those albums, at least as they were experienced on LP. And, not so incidentally, "Empyrean Isles" is a desert island record for me -- some of the greatest playing by all four of those musicians, but especially Freddie and Herbie, who never sounded better.

Haven't had time to listen but some interesting looking new performances posted from 1967: John Handy Quintet with Bobby Hutcherson, Pat Martino (just 21), Albert Stinson, Douglas Sides. Earl Hines Quartet. Abbreviated set including Budd Johnson, Bill Pemberton, Oliver Jackson Gabor Szabo Quintet with Jimmy Stewart, Louis Kabok, Hal Gordon, Bill Goodwin

Anyone know who the slick announcer is on the "California Concert" reissue? I assume it's a West Coast DJ, but no credit is given. I must say, for myself, I can only think of a handful of CTI Records that I find rewarding enough to return to on a regular basis. Did any artist record his best work for the label? I will say that killin' exceptions -- records that are fantastic front to back -- would include: The first two Joe Farrell dates, "Joe Farrell Quartet" and "Outback." (Ghost: Did you know that Michael Bourne used to use "Follow Your Heart" from Farrell's first date as his theme at end of his show when he was on WFIU?) Bill Evans' "Montreux II" Freddie's "Red Clay" and "Straight Life" (not as good as the former, but still strong.) Now, I certainly don't know the entire catalog as well as others surely do, so what would folks rank as the label's unqualified best records? With some recommendations, I'll look for used LPs -- clearly the CD reissues are a hornet's nest when it comes to sonics.

In case folks didn't know, Bert Myrick passed away this past summer at the age of 80.

"Salon Society." Narrated by Bill Manville, with Hank Jones, piano (Roulette R 501). Julius Hemphill, "Coon Bid'ness" (Arista) Both at Encore Records, Ann Arbor, MI

You can hear (sort of) "Sweet Georgia Brown" from this tape on youtube.

Haven’t weighed in on Jamal until now, but for what it’s worth, here’s my view: Jamal is a genius both as a conceptualist and a pianist, yet there are also elements, specifically linear melodic improvisation, that he doesn’t provide at the level of invention that I prefer. To be clear, I am inspired and moved by Jamal’s best work and I think his influence on the wider sound of jazz is as indisputable as it is profound – very few musicians in jazz have put their stamp not only their instrument but wider aesthetic currents. Jamal is in that camp. Still, though I think it’s a mistake to expect him to roar through a standard like Barry Harris – that’s not what he’s about – I still wish the improvisations cut deeper. That’s my taste. I agree with Allen viz. Mailer that bad art can influence great art, but the idea that Jamal represents charlatanism is ridiculous. This topic reminds me a bit of my definition of a wine connoisseur – someone who can say, “That’s an excellent wine; I hate it.” One can hold serious reservations and one can certainly hate Jamal, but to deny him every shred of his artistic integrity, which is what you do when you call him a charlatan, is to wholly substitute personal taste for reasoned analysis. Which is not to say that it’s not a function of criticism to cry “fraud” when it appears – it is absolutely – and, of course, there are always going to be disagreements about who is and who is not a phony and, crucially, which criteria has the greatest bearing in how and why we make that determination. But Jamal as charlatan? I just don’t see how you can defend that position either based on an objective reading of the history or a prima facie hearing of the music. I’ve written about Jamal a few times, and my views are still evolving. But here are some excerpts. Please excuse the repetition of some pet phrases (we all have our licks): About the new box set: Few revolutionaries have made music so friendly. Jamal drew blood with quietly swinging interpretations of standards, his arrangements and improvisations based on melodic and rhythmic catchphrases rather than complex linear inventions. His breakthrough 1958 LP "At the Pershing: But Not for Me," powered by the hit "Poinciana," spent two years on the Billboard charts. But Jamal has always been a wolf in sheep's clothing. He's a conceptualist, whose aesthetic is based on the art of surprise and the play of tension-and-release. His main tools include dynamics, dramatic silence, texture, riffs, melodic paraphrase and a subtle recasting of form through introductions, vamps, tags, key changes and rhythmic contrasts. Jamal's classic trio with bassist Israel Crosby and drummer Vernel Fournier redefined jazz from the inside out. About a 2006 live performance: Nearly 50 years after he first became a sensation in jazz, pianist Ahmad Jamal still has a reputation as a jazz minimalist, vamping till the cows come home, leaving gaping holes of silence in his music and plinking melodies played so high up on the keyboard and so softly that it almost sounds as if the music is evaporating right in front of you. But Jamal, a conceptualist who influenced Miles Davis, Keith Jarrett and countless others, is also a maximalist. Jamal, whose trio closed out Sunday night's performances at the Detroit International Jazz Festival at Hart Plaza's amphitheatre, pivoted incessantly between whispered transparencies and dense explosions of chords, muscularly thumped bass notes and gyrating, almost chaotic densities all over the keyboard that clouded into obscurity the grooves dug by bassist James Cammack and drummer Idris Muhammad. Suddenly, as if flipping off a light switch, Jamal wiped away the debris and the groove reappeared from the rubble. He then rode the beat with some slyly humorous riffing before building to his next barrage. This play of tension and release is Jamal's idee fixe. Every tune Sunday followed a similar formula, from the opening standard, "Time On My Hands," to revivals of his early hits "Poinciana" and "But Not For Me," to simple originals based on nothing more than oscillating intervals and a series of repeating bass ostinatos. The rhythms were generally based on swing or a kind of swampy shuffle that drummer Vernel Fournier invented with Jamal in the '50s and that Muhammad updated with a slightly funky twist. Still, while you know what's going to happen in Jamal's music, you never know when it's going to happen. Jamal, who controls every move his ensemble makes like an auteur, keeps his listeners (and his sidemen) guessing. The emotion in his music comes from surprise. His encore Sunday had so many false endings the music warped into surrealism. Jamal's music is easy to understand but it remains downright mutinous in its absence of melody. He has essentially replaced the linear melodic improvising that governs nearly all jazz with an aesthetic based entirely on dynamics, dramatic silence, theatrical surprise, texture, contrast and riffs. The music can be tedious, self-conscious and excessively splashy, and there were times Sunday when I longed to hear the music ascend to a higher plane of melodic and harmonic development and improvisation. Call me old fashioned. But nobody jogs in place so profoundly as Jamal.

That's what I was thinking of, but IIRC he went into more detail somewhere. But then my memory is full of gaping holes and imaginings. I'm sure he has, though I can't put my finger on it this instant. Did find this bit in an interview from some years ago: L: Do you listen much to the piano masters? HG: I don’t listen to much of anything anymore. When I do, I listen to Ahmad Jamal. Lately I’ve been very into him. I heard him four nights out of six at Fat Tuesdays. I was stunned. You can’t put your finger on what he’s doing; he’s very subtle. You get the feeling he’s playing everything and nothing. You’re not quite sure what you heard or what he did.