Mark Stryker

Here's another fave: During Joe Henderson's solo on "Straight Ahead" from Kenny Dorham's "Una Mas," there's a point where Herbie Hancock strolls and somebody, presumably KD, starts to clap on two and four. At the top of the chorus, someone (again, presumably KDs) says, "C'mon, Joe, c'mon." Joe's solo on this tune, by the way, really is incredible -- fully mature, original sound and remarkable rhythmic flexibility and looseness. Wasn't this his first appearance on record to hit stores? What a debut!

On "I've Never Been In Love Before" form "Sonny Rollins +3" (Milestone), Sonny blows up a hurricane and you can hear shouts of encouragement from somebody though it's not clear exactly who it is. Sonny takes two solos here and I think this happens during the second one. Don't have the record with me to check.

got it -- sonny stitt on an inspired night ...

I've been around the scene a long time but I'm not sure I really know what "cattin'" means in this context. Elucidate please ...

I like Dizzy laughing behind Bird on "Warming Up a Riff," the slower, incomplete take of "Ko-Ko," when Bird plays a super-hip rhyme during the last A section of his second chorus. Going from memory, Art Blakey telling Lee Morgan to "Play yo' instrument" and "Get mad" during the cadenza on "A Night in Tunesia." And Blakey laughs and yells a lot all the way through "Free For All" -- one of the most fiery records ever -- especially, as I recall, the title track and behind Freddie Hubbard on "Pensativa."

http://smigly.tv/video/smigly-kind-of-black-and-blue/

Some new stuff from 1967 Newport: Booker Ervin with Chick Corea, Reggie Johnson, Lenny McBrowne: http://www.wolfgangsvault.com/booker-ervin-quartet/concerts/newport-jazz-festival-july-02-1967.html?utm_source=NL&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=110708 Max Roach with Charles Tolliver, Odean Pope, Jymmie Merritt: http://www.wolfgangsvault.com/max-roach-quintet/concerts/newport-jazz-festival-july-02-1967.html?utm_source=NL&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=110708

Per the latest edition of Dave Liebman's newsletter published Saturday: "Lee had a brain aneurysm in Melbourne, Australia a few weeks ago. I spoke with him and it appears that full recovery will happen. He was in excellent spirits. Another warrior!!" http://liebintervals.blogspot.com/

http://dothemath.typepad.com/dtm/clarence-clemons-by-branford-marsalis.html Nice appreciation by Branford Marsalis, written as a guest post at Do The Math.

The billing on "Something New" (Interplay Records) from 1979 is the Sam Jones 12 Piece Band. Harrell is not in the group, but I've always assumed the book and sound of this band was essentially the same as when Harrell had co-billing. Is that right, or was there a substantial difference between the groups? Re: Jones on record. Jones steals the show on Blue Mitchell's "Blue's Moods," partly because for some reason the bass is recorded really, really clear on that record. and you can hear every nuance of his sound, time and note-choice.

Would love to see those photos. As for the art work to "There Will Never Be Another You", never dug it for it represents what Sonny looked like in the early and mid '70s, a decade after the MOMA concert which took place in June '65. Again, the music is fabulous and as for Sonny's wandering on the stage off mike, that occurs primarily during the 2nd half of the concert (side 2 on the LP). I never knew that the cover photo on "On Impulse" was taken at the MOMA concert; I wonder if somebody's original plan might have been for the first Impulse album to be a live record from the concert but then plans shifted, perhaps becasue it was realized that too much was off-mike for a commercial LP (and just to be clear for those who have never heard it, the sound in no way impedes the enjoyment/appreciation of Sonny's genius). I also notice on my LP that Rudy Van Gelder is listed as the recording engineer. If that's true, then going back to a point in my original post, it's unlikely that Sonny literally didn't know tapes were rolling -- Rudy was there with equipment and never said "hi"? Coda 1: Tommy Flanagan also sounds exceptionally good to me, especially on "Three Little Words," where Sonny's pace and inspiration really push him. Coda 2: Among the slew of Sonny's great moments, I really love the sudden key change during his solo on the title tune -- on the fly, indeed! -- and the expansive fours with the drummers on that tune and how Sonny often phrases into or through their bars to finish his ideas. Plus the way he just keeps going and going as the tune evolves, even including a calypso bit near the end of his cadenza and the long final note (circular breathing). Well, it's not quite the final note as the tune starts up again as a "walk off" coda. Coda 3: The liners on the LP include a reprint of a Down Beat review of the concert published in the Aug. 12, 1965 issue. The review says the concert started with "Will You Still Be Mine?" -- "the faint sounds of a tenor saxophone playing "Will You Still Be Mine?" could be heard in the distance ... enthralled listeners turned toward the sound and saw Rollins in a green jacket and blue beret emerge from behind a tree in full musical flight." So, anybody ever heard a recording of that part of the concert which isn't included on the LP? Plus, the record opens in the middle of "Green Dolphin Street." Does an unedited bootleg exist of the whole concert?

Shame about Sonny's attitude towards the live album because it's really prime live Newk from the mid '60s and a great rhythm section that includes Tommy Flanagan and two drummers, Billy Higgins and Mickey Roker. I've made a CD-R from my LP copy that I frequently listen to when driving. Sonny's attitude about the record is tied closely to his strong feelings of being exploited by Impulse (ABC Paramount). "There Will Never Be Another You" was not released unitl 1978, a decade after his contract ran out. He is quoted in Eric Nisenson's "Open Sky" as saying, "For one thing, I was not paid to do that record. And also it should never have been released, just because I am off mike so much. It was just another example of their gouging more money out of the public by selling them an inferior product." Sonny has often spoken about how he felt strong-armed by the ABC lawyers during his tenure with the label and in an interview I did with Sonny last year in which we talked specifically about the reasons for his disillusionment that led to his second sabbatical, he said he felt bamboozled into signing away the rights to his score for "Alfie." (Sonny was representing himself at the time.) Having said all that, his playing on the "There Will Never Be Another You" concert is incredible. Nisenson writes that Sonny did not know he was being recorded at the Museum of Modern Art, though he doesn't quote Rollins specifically on that point and I have often wondered if this is literally true -- Sonny had no idea there were recording engineers on site? (Perhaps he knew they were there doing something but his understanding was never that they were recording for the market? Just speculating. It is true that he strolled around as he played.) Nisenson uses the fact Sonny ostensibly didn't know he was being taped as another example of the contrast between the uninhibited live Rollins versus the self-conscious Rollins in the studio. There's no doubt this syndrome is part and parcel of Sonny's aesthetic and that the disconnect people began noticing in the '60s turned into a chasm in the 70s and beyond. I just wonder if that's the whole story with this particular concert.

Right on! Imagine him playing Wayne's "Infant Eyes" while we're at it.

Killin' performance. But that's not from the Mike Douglas Show -- the guy at the drums at the start of the clip, presumably making an introduction, looks like the comedian David Steinberg. Here's JB on MD singing the same song in the same year. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v7s4bemKEY0&feature=related

A few observations prompted by Koren's list, and in a way I'm thinking about more than just Mozart and the piano concertos. I know many of these performances to be very fine, but I am struck by the fact that nearly all are 40 to 50 years old or more. (I guess the Horowitz is from the mid 80s, and I'm not sure if he's referencing early or late Michelangeli, but we're still talking about one of the Great Men of history.) Maybe Mozart interpretation really did peak at mid century; certainly many of these are timeless recordings. But I also wonder if this list reflects the manifestation of a certain record-collector syndrome, namely that older is better, that only a few masters have a line on Truth and that the first records we really learned, those that made us fall in love with particular pieces in the first place, or those that we acquired when we were coming into our own maturity as listeners, remain unimpeachable -- especially compared to the "drivel" being released today. I know the syndrome because I have to fight it, as I suspect many of us do. There but for the grace of God and all that. I know from my own listening how tempting it can be to dismiss recordings because they differ from the sound in my head that was shaped by the records that first captured my imagination when I was working in a classical record store 25 years ago and methodically learning the standard repertoire. For me personally it's become incredibly important to be an active concertgoer -- I'm blessed that it's my job -- because I like to think it keeps my ears open to alternative interpretations, contemporary performers and a sense of the art as a still-evolving organism. It can be seductive and perhaps dangerous to retreat so deep into your record collection that you forget to come up for air. In that spirit, I would recommend recent recordings of various Mozart concertos by the Norwegian painist Leif Ove Andsnes (9/18; 17/20, EMI); and the Polish-born Piotr Anderszewski (21/24, Virgin). Both have the drama and intensity I require but honor the lyricism too; Andsness is more electric; Anderszewski is smoother but doesn't preen. But have lots of imagination and both conduct from the keyboard. I recently picked up Pierre-Laurent Aimard's recording of 6, 16 and 27 with the Chamber Orchestra of Europe (Warner) but have only listened once so I haven't fully absorbed it, but I was struck by the scrubbed clarity of articulation and sound and the rhythmic zest. Aimard is remarkable in contemporary rep (Boulez, Carter, Messiaen, Ligeti), which has had a strong impact on how he approaches older music. On the other hand, it also sounded a little icy and less variegated than I wanted. I need to spend more time with it before I make up my mind.

That's been my experience, too, darn it. All I can do is point to/enjoy the pianists who bring the music to life for me (e.g, Perlemuter and Rubinstein) and wonder why so many others don't. I'm reminded, too, of a revelatory performance of the Clarinet Concerto with Karl Leister and (to my disbelief) Karajan (on EMI, in a box with other Mozart wind concerti played by BPO principals of the time). Not that there aren't plenty of nice or better recordings of the work, but there was a certain "instantaniety" of rhythm to Leister's phrasing that made this familiar piece seem like I'd never before heard all that was there. It has something to do with the fundamental transparency of the music and the purity of the melodic expression. It looks fairly simple on the page and doesn't require finger-busting technique, but it's tricky to get to the emotional core of the music. Sometimes chefs will say that the hardest thing to do is to perfectly roast a chicken -- not fancy techniques, no fancy sauces, no layers of ingredients. Just pure fundamental technique. Not the most sublime metaphor perhaps, but maybe great Mozart is as elusive as the ideal roast chicken. I stand by the statement that great performances of the Mozart piano concertos are more elusive than great performances of the rest of the standard piano concerto repertoire -- my concert-going and recording-listening experience tells me so (and apparently L.K. too), though I take the point that's it's not a matter of magic or metaphysics but rather savvy musical understanding that leads to the promised land. Also agree on the operatic spirit of the concertos. Still, there's something about the music that makes it more tricky to pull off then other works. Yes, the Serenades and lots of other works were essentially written as "occasional" music -- though I'm often reminded of a phrase that Bernard Holland, late of the Times and in surely one of his better moments, once bestowed on the "Gran Partita" (Serenade No. 10) -- "dinner music for the Gods." (Not looking to re-open old wounds and/or rants viz. Holland, but that's a phrase worth stealing.) For what it's worth, I'd gladly give up all of Mozart's symphonies, piano concertos and sonatas, Violin Concertos and everything else, even the Clarinet Concerto, IF I could take the three Da Ponte operas, "Magic Flute" and the last 10 string quartets.

That's been my experience, too, darn it. All I can do is point to/enjoy the pianists who bring the music to life for me (e.g, Perlemuter and Rubinstein) and wonder why so many others don't. I'm reminded, too, of a revelatory performance of the Clarinet Concerto with Karl Leister and (to my disbelief) Karajan (on EMI, in a box with other Mozart wind concerti played by BPO principals of the time). Not that there aren't plenty of nice or better recordings of the work, but there was a certain "instantaniety" of rhythm to Leister's phrasing that made this familiar piece seem like I'd never before heard all that was there. It has something to do with the fundamental transparency of the music and the purity of the melodic expression. It looks fairly simple on the page and doesn't require finger-busting technique, but it's tricky to get to the emotional core of the music. Sometimes chefs will say that the hardest thing to do is to perfectly roast a chicken -- not fancy techniques, no fancy sauces, no layers of ingredients. Just pure fundamental technique. Not the most sublime metaphor perhaps, but maybe great Mozart is as elusive as the ideal roast chicken.

Generally speaking, I also favor the dramatic and public over the genteel and private in Mozart, but I have a different view of some of the recordings here than others have expressed. In particular, I like Barenboim (both the early recordings on EMI and more so the later ones on Teldec) because I think he captures the theatrical qualities and the wide range of emotions. I think Barenboim's knowledge of the operas from conducting helps bring these qualities out in his piano performances. I would also say that this is rich music that rewards a variety of approaches, and as a veteran of countless live performances of the concertos over the last 18 years, I would add that the difference between satisfying and boring performances is not only an ear for the drama but also a sense of spontaneity (another Barenboim strength for me, though some may find him undisciplined).I know, that feeling of spontaneity is key to performances of just about any music, but Mozart performances especially die if they sound overly mechanical or too smooth and muzak-y. But then, overly mannered or forced emotion in Mozart are sins of another sort, and I've heard plenty of those too. It's always been interesting to me that I've heard far more forgettable performances of the Mozart concertos than any of the other standard repertoire piano concertos, from Beethoven through Rachmaninoff. The balance in Mozart -- between intensity and repose, grace and guts, pulse and relaxation, respect for classical structure but also depth of feeling -- is really hard to get right.

http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/05/25/prague-1970-music-in-spring/?smid=tw-nytimesmusic&seid=auto Fascinating confluence of time, place, aesthetics, personalities and politics -- and perhaps a surprising champion of freedom at the end.

http://dothemath.typepad.com/dtm/2011/05/three-hours-with-threadgill.html

Two completely nutty sites that I love: Carla Bley's site is as bonkers as she is (and I say that with much affection): http://www.wattxtrawatt.com/ Bill Carrothers, a fine pianist who relocated some years ago to the Upper Penisula of Michigan: http://www.carrothers.com/ (take a look at the free piano lesson under "I love a piano" -- valuable stuff.

Great quote from Jackie -- I've seen him use the phrase "sugar-free" to describe his sound in other places, but I've never seen the story of Hank playing a B-flat to tune to Jackie's A -- funny stuff. A bit confused about the source of that quote: That's from the liners from a Connoisseur issue of "Let Freedom Ring"?

This issue of "oversupply" is a key point. Many argue that driven by the need to fill out 52-week contracts, large orchestras have been forced into creating far too much product for their markets, and, further, that the inflexible subscription models that have arisen to support those seasons are both a drag on innovation and unsustainable financially. Worth noting here that others will argue that orchestras need to do a better job of marketing to "create the demand."

With assets three times the amount of liabilities. Want the musicians to take a 20% pay cut, and to defund the pension. The financial problems are really complicated. The orchestra has already eaten through the unrestricted portion of its endowment to cover bills and the $140 million that's left in the endowment is all completely restricted by law. It's untouchable, unless a bankruptcy judge would decide they ought be allowed to tap into that money to pay operating costs. (I'm unclear on the specifics of the law and what kind of leeway a judge has on this issue.) The bottom line is that the orchestra has a Herculean cash flow problem, with annual operating expenses of something like $47M and income of $31M. They might be endowment rich but they are cash poor, and even if you started drawing down principal of the endowment to pay operating costs, $140M doesn't go very far when you're cashing out $16M annually. Here's another way to look at it: The orchestra would have to raise an additional $320M for its endowment to generate the $16M needed to cover its gap (figuring a typical 5 percent draw).

Briefly, the new contract did reduce the size and scope of the season and the union has a great deal of say in all of that -- anything relating to wages, work rules, length of season, etc., has to be negotiated. The orchestra went from 52 guaranteed weeks of pay to 40. The musicians are paid a weekly salary. Their work week is defined by an average of 8 "services" (orchestra rehearsals or orchestra concerts). The unique wrinkle in the new contract is the introduction of additional optional pay for optional work that covers a range of community and outreach work including chamber music, teaching, coaching, school concerts. DSO management was able to fold the optional pay into the total $36M deal($34 million for guaranteed orchestra work, plus $2M for the optional work). That's a big deal in the orchestra world, where there's currently a huge fight going on between the musicians' union and managements over contractually redefining musicians' jobs to include more than just traditional orchestra rehearsals and concerts. Historically, if you wanted your musicians to teach or play chamber music or do other kinds of outreach work, you had to pay them extra above their guaranteed salary. But the argument from managements today is that to create more flexible institutions that are better able to meet a community's needs, those 8 services per weeks should be able to be used to cover all kinds of different work, not just traditional orchestra concerts. The concept is called "service conversion" and it's controversial on a variety of levels -- but mostly because it redefines the job of playing in a major orchestra. Worth noting that the DSO's optional work approach doesn't actually change the jobs -- nobody has to participate if they don't want to -- but it does begin to give management more flexibility and the only way to get max amount of money is to participate.