Henry Grimes to play again this weekend

[ghost of miles]

Just came across this on the Web:

Henry Grimes to play with Nels Cline

Big news folks:

nelscline.com is very proud & excited to report that Nels will be playing in concert with legendary jazz bassist Henry Grimes on March 21 & 22 at the World Stage in Leimert Park Village (South Central Los Angeles.) The esteemed Mr. Grimes has just recently resurfaced on the scene after a 30+ year absence. You will not want to miss this exceptionally special event.

[Michael Fitzgerald]

Could anyone who attends either or both shows, please contact me - wish I were able to make it, but I'm on the opposite coast. Hoping that HG will make a trip out this way sometime in the near future.

Mike

[Dmitry]

For the risk of being crude...how well do you think he can play after 30 years of absence and not practicing or having an instrument to practice on?

They say William Parker sent, or will send him a bass.

A hypothetical question from a non-musician.

Has there been a case of someone coming back after, let's say after 20 years of inactivity, and making it?[in jazz, of course].

Depends what music they play, also, I guess.

[Michael Fitzgerald]

Those who have played with him in recent months say it is amazing how quickly he is recovering his chops. At one jam session he played for over an hour straight, then took a break, then played for another 30 minutes.

Worth noting that he had an extremely sound foundation, having studied with Fred Zimmermann of the NY Philharmonic. I suspect that makes a big difference.

Yes, the bass he is using was donated by William Parker.

Mike

[bertrand]

Dmitry,

Remember what happened to Pat Martino and Mal Waldron? They both had to re-learn to play their instruments from scratch - and they pulled it off. It may not have been as quickly as Henry Grimes seems to have done, but it happened.

Also, when you reach a level of playing like these guys, I suspect you never completely 'forget'. Kinda like riding a bike...

[Rooster_Ties]

I was aware of Pat Martino having to relearn everything (don't remember all the details, but I've heard the story a few times - I'm sure of it).

But, I'm afraid I'm totally in the dark about the same thing happening with Mal Waldron. (Might have something to do with the fact that I have very little Waldron, a fact I should really try to rectify sometime. I think the only Waldron date I have is the quartet date with Joe Henderson, from the early 80's or so. It's never been released on CD, I remember that much.)

=====

I suppose it's maybe in Waldron's AMG bio, but I'm just way too "not at all with it" today to go and look. My wife and I went to a potluck dinner last night, and I ate something that did not agree with me at all (something that thankfully she didn't eat). I won't give any details (which you can all thank me for), other than to say I don't think I've been this sick and miserable for nearly a decade.

[Adam]

Waldro had a stroke, I believe, in the 1960s, and relearned.

Man, I'm gonna go this weekend to see Grimes with the Clines.

[.:.impossible]

I know a lot of people are anticipating this event. I think Dmitry raises a great question. This is probably an unprecidented occurrence. I'd bet a lot of people have their ear to the bottom of a glass pressed up against the wall with curiosity. And to think Henry Grimes didn't even realize he was remembered by anyone.

I think with enough desire along with the support of our small public, Henry Grimes will feel increasingly encouraged to practice and get back.

Here's to him and everyone that is helping.

[mikeb]

Didn't PM have a stroke, as well, or maybe a brain aneurysm?

Amazing what the human spirit can be capable of ...

[James]

Yeah - he did have a stroke or aneurysm, don't know the exact distinction between the two. What I heard is that he studied his own recorded work, and this became one of his primary tools in regaining his playing.

I caught him with Joey DeFrancesco and Byron Landham in L.A. around the time he recorded "Live at Yoshi's". Same intensity as you hear on the recording ------- the crowd was going crazy. One of my favorite live experiences of that year at the Catalina Bar & Grill. Continuous waves of energy lifting the audience.

Edited March 18, 2003 by James

[Michael Fitzgerald]

Waldron's problem was not a stroke, as far as I know. Here's something from Keyboard magazine, July 1984 p.48 (article by Bob Doerschuk):

------

One other element in Waldron's life has had a strong impact on his present-day approach to playing and writing. It also helped motivate him to relocate in Europe. In 1963, the cutthroat competitiveness and lingering racial inequalities of the New York music scene caught up with him, precipitating a nervous breakdown and a one-year recovery period in various hospitals. Waldron remembers the first signs of this crisis in a scenario whose terrors perhaps only musicians can fully appreciate.

"I was doing a job with Max Roach in Chicago," he remembers. "I came in, sat down at the piano, and suddenly discovered that I couldn't function. I could not remember how to play the piano. Oh, man, that was scary. I knew where Middle C was, but that was about it. I had a memory that I had played the piano, but I couldn't play it anymore. My hands were shaking, I couldn't keep time, and I couldn't remember the way I had moved through the changes."

Once the recuperation process began, Waldron was able to learn the instrument again, starting essentially from scratch. Fortunately, some memory of his classical study remained, so he could rebuild his familiarity with the keyboard. But the style that he put together after his breakdown differed in several crucial respects from his earlier style. As Charlie Rouse describes it in an interview in the German magazine Jazz, "He played differently before he left. It was more melodic. Now it's more percussive, more rhythmic. You can hear it in the records."

Waldron hears the differences too. "When my mind started coming back, little by little, I taught myself how to play again. I still feel like I'm not completely back yet," he laughs. "I'm still out there. When I listen to my earlier records, I hear qualities I'd like to recapture that are not really part of me at this moment. I sound like a different piano player then. Some things tie the two piano players together, like an economy of uses of material, for example, and the repetition aspect was definitely there then too. But I had a beautiful lyrical quality going in the early part of my career that I don't have back yet. I have to work on the melodic part of my playing, and get my notes more in the kind of line they were in before. I also hear changes I'd like to straighten out and maybe make more full."

-----

Mike

[Jim Dye]

Thank you for that Mike!

[JSngry]

Re:Waldron -

Wow....

Re:Grimes -

WOW!

I suppose I could look it up, but where does SPEAK BROTHER SPEAK fit into the Waldron story?

[Michael Fitzgerald]

Before, it seems - that's from October 27, 1962. I know that the same band played McKie's in Chicago November 7-18, 1962. Not sure if that Chicago date is the one referred to or not.

I don't have any info on Roach or Waldron in 1963. When Roach next appears in my notes, it's January 1964 in Europe with Coleridge Perkinson on piano. Waldron played at a CORE benefit at the Five Spot on April 19, 1964.

Mike

[The Mule]

From today's LA Times. Front page of the "Calendar" section:

A jazz mystery unravels

Henry Grimes, the Juilliard-trained bassist who quietly walked away decades ago, is slowly reemerging.

By Lynell George, Times Staff Writer

March 21 2003

It started as a rumor as wild and out-there as all the others over the last 30 years. There'd been many -- some elaborate, others prosaic -- speculating on the whereabouts of revered jazz bassist Henry Grimes. The stories ran up and down the scales: that Grimes had taken up acting; that he'd assumed another identity; that he died in 1984.

But this latest one had caught a good tailwind as it was yanked about from coast to coast.

Grimes wasn't dead at all. He was right here, in downtown Los Angeles, living in an efficiency hotel on a hardscrabble stretch of Main Street. For three decades he'd been in and out of odd jobs, at times without a permanent address, for a long time without his upright bass.

Soon the hard evidence materialized. In the winter issue of Signal to Noise -- The Journal of Improvised & Experimental Music, a photo of Grimes -- same resolute stare, same down-turned mouth, hair dusted gray -- peered out from the pages. The photos were accompanied by the story of one determined fan, Marshall Marrotte, a social worker, from Athens, Ga., who sifted through all manner of legal records to solve the mystery of Henry Grimes.

Once one of the most sought-after jazz bassists of the post-bop era, Grimes was as well known for his quiet demeanor as his big sound. Classically trained at Juilliard, he had a sense of time and an intricate bowing technique that set him apart from others on the circuit. In the late '50s and well into the '60s, he played frequent club dates, toured and recorded with marquee names and new-music pioneers alike -- among them Benny Goodman and Sonny Rollins, Albert Ayler and Cecil Taylor. It seemed the ride wouldn't stop. Until after a gig at the Both/And in San Francisco when Grimes stepped off the bandstand and into middle space.

In the years since, the story served as a knotty mystery that many have spent more time embroidering than untangling -- until now.

"It's all a little overwhelming," Grimes will tell you in a mere rasp of a voice that only underscores the understatement. "Marshall told me that a lot of people thought I was dead. I thought, 'I could really use that plot for a horror film or something like that.' "

To witness the reemergence of Henry Grimes is a bit like glimpsing the missing link. "He was just so creative," says music historian Steve Isoardi, editor of the book "Central Avenue Sounds."

"He really seemed to complement the new sounds that were coming from people like Ayler. He is really kind of the connection between the bass players of the last, say, 20, 30 years and the ones in the '50s and '60s. He was one of the greatest artists of that era, and to have him just walk away ... "

Jazz has often lost its heroes early. Its players are seldom tossed a second chance, which is why this is all the more remarkable. Given the myth and rumor, "it's all been appropriately weird," says drummer Alex Cline, who has been jamming with Grimes over the last few weeks. "It's interesting playing with a ghost. One who is quite solid."

Since his "reappearance," there have been requests for lessons, gifts of a bass and CDs of his old recordings. Already he's found a new generation of ears. Even a couple of gigs have floated into view. The first, today and Saturday at the World Stage in Leimert Park, is especially significant because the venue was co-founded by one of his fellow sidemen, the late drummer Billy Higgins.

"I've never had this kind of attention," says Grimes, 68, as bewildered by it as he is amused. "But I never stopped playing. Not in my mind."

An unlikely comeback gig

Reentry, Grimes is finding, isn't as easy as stepping away.

On a cloudy, late-winter morning, he stands before an eager group of about 50 high school students and their teachers at the Oakwood School in North Hollywood, his hands sunk deep in his pockets, his new bass leaning against him. It's an unlikely place for a comeback date, but this assembly will be Grimes' first semi-public performance since 1972. Next to him, also with a bass, stands Nick Rosen, a 17-year-old senior who has picked up the baton on this leg of Grimes' journey.

After warming up with a few CDs featuring Grimes in his prime, the gathering turns to take in the real thing. Grimes' eyes sweep the room. He appears a bit amused by all the fuss. Rosen trolls for questions -- gently nudging them away from the mystery and toward inquires about the music.

Grimes is alternately tentative and whimsical. To the question, "What does it feel like to have worked with all the greats?" he offers, "It kinda interferes with my sleep." He punctuates those one-liners with a teasing, slow-blooming grin.

"Henry, should we play one?" Rosen suggests. Self-contained, somewhat bashful, he has the bearing of a shadow. Until he leans into the instrument, into the first few notes. He stands, stock-still, cradling the bass, plucking and bowing alternately -- then simultaneously. His eyes seem focused on that middle space from which he emerged. In minutes, he is drenched in perspiration -- his forehead glossy, his bow an unraveled mess. Rosen's eyes lock into his new mentor's gaze, picking up cues and clues.

Rosen had been introduced to Grimes by Isoardi, who's an instructor at Oakwood. New to the acoustic bass, the student was moving out of punk and metal and into the wide open spaces of free jazz, obsessed with Ayler. Grimes, then, was the direct line.

Rosen devoured the magazine piece, then left a week's worth of messages at Grimes' hotel, hoping that he was open to taking on a pupil. Their initial meeting, over a meal at the Pantry, turned into a three-hour discussion of music. "He was excited" about the prospect of playing improvisationally, says Rosen. "He told me that he wanted to play free."

Since that moment, Rosen has been bent on making that happen, working the phones, assembling the first jam session early last month. Then when poet and World Stage co-founder Kamau Daáood got wind of the plan and offered his venue, Rosen stepped up his efforts, securing a lineup -- guitarist Nels Cline and his brother Alex, Dan Clucas on trumpet and cornet, and Charles Owens and Chris Heenan on woodwinds.

All were honored to get the call.

"Here was someone who we thought hadn't survived 'the jazz life,' " says Clucas. But he did survive -- because he walked away. "In a lot of ways he's forgotten the person he was. But it's coming back, [and] now there are two people competing inside of him."

Places fade but not music

Grimes' memory is indeed sticky, faded in places, an old photo album where the snapshot has slipped away, the clear recollection momentarily misplaced or just out of reach. He's that way about years and cities, musicians he's traveled and played with.

"It's a strange thing. Like an effect of battle," says Grimes. "Listening to these records I made with all these guys, I couldn't remember the place or how I got there playing. But I remember every note of the music. I mean every note."

Born in Philadelphia, Grimes started out on violin. The bass came later. His studies at Juilliard in the 1950s gave him a perk over other musicians, he says over lunch at a cafe a few blocks away from his hotel on a refurbished block of Main. "They liked the way I played. A lot of young guys never had the kind of thing I had."

He was fiercely busy and happy to be so. But it was with Arnett Cobb and Willis Jackson that Grimes really learned how to play. "Guys like that, they show you something. These guys would complain, 'I can't hear you! Play harder!' So, you're pulling the strings harder," Grimes remembers. "Then, I used to play with Buddy Rich. He played so loud and hard ... four beats on the bass drum ... it was like trying to survive in the jungle."

He moved from straight-ahead gigs to more abstract ensembles with ease. "The music was a feeling. And if you understand that feeling," says Grimes, "it goes right through you."

Until it took its toll. While working with Sonny Rollins' band in the 1960s, Grimes recalls, "it just kind of hit me. I don't know where it came from. It was a strange thing. I remember it all accumulating. I started a scuffle with one of the musicians. Wasn't like me at all. And after that I was kind of embarrassed. I had to get out of there." Henry Grimes was having a nervous breakdown.

For seven years he was hospitalized, treated for what would now be diagnosed as bipolar disorder. It was also during that period that he lost both his parents in quick succession, then drifted from contact with his sister and twin brother.

There were gigs here and there afterward, but the night Grimes walked off that bandstand in San Francisco, he knew it was time to step away. Sometime in the 1970s, he moved to L.A., where there were occasional sightings.

Bassist Roberto Miranda caught a glimpse of Grimes at a jam session near Loyola Marymount University. "It was about 30 years ago at someone's house: seven bass players, four or five drummers and thousands of horn players. I ended up standing right next to Henry.... In the middle of all this, Henry stops playing, sets his bass down, walks to the couch [and] immediately falls asleep. I thought to myself, 'Wow.' That was the last time I saw him until a week and a half ago."

Shortly after the move, Grimes sold his bass and made ends meet with janitorial jobs and construction.

"Physical work," he says, "releases some of the tensions." Even the far-out rumor about his turn at acting was true: "I did take a workshop. I've been writing some poetry too. It's the same place of expression. It's the way I like to do it. Everything coming through me."

Until Marrotte called and upended everything, Grimes had become accustomed to his new tempo of life. "I missed playing," he admits, "but I wasn't thinking about it. It wasn't that I didn't want to. It was like a concentration exercise. I would just reinvert the energy. Instead of worrying about 'I don't have a bass,' I just sort of got ahead of it."

Gazing into the distance

Second set, one Sunday night, Rosen's parents' living room: a modified version of the Henry Grimes Group thunders through its last rehearsal before the World Stage gig. The band travels through tones and colors, ride the waves and angles, Grimes' unreadable, intense gaze set on some distant elsewhere.

As the set curls into its close, Heenan suggests one more. "A ballad?" drummer Cline jokes, taking the plugs out of his ears. "I'm all for quieter."

"What would you like to do, Henry?" Clucas defers. There's no countdown. No direction. The players watch for the flicker, sail in, then dovetail.

Henry leans in. Feet planted firmly. Except for his busy hands, he barely moves an inch. His gaze is set to that middle space, his body covered in sweat. All of it -- again -- coming through him.

Edited March 21, 2003 by The Mule

[AfricaBrass]

Thanks Mule!

Great article!

:rsmile:

[Saint Vitus]

Thanks, Mule.

[The Mule]

You're welcome. It's a great article. I must say that I was very surprised to see this on the front page of the entertainment section with a color picture. Amazing placement for a story about an obscure jazz musician.

[Adam]

I went on Saturday. Copying my post from the AAJ board:

Yes I did - to the second set on Saturday. Got there just slightly too late for the first set. Has this happened to you? The World Stage seats something like 40, and that's a tight fit. I had a date with me, and two friends already inside. But when we two got to the door, they had only one ticket left! So I bought two for the second set and we went down the street for coffee.

Anyway, the second set was sold out as well. We sat in the second row.

There were seven people crammed onto the small stage:

Grimes - bass

Nick Rosen on a second bass. The 17-year old discussed above.

Dan Clucas - tpt

Alex Cline - drums

Nels Cline - guitar

Chris Heenan - Alto sax & bass clarinet

But no Charles Owen. Some other youngter also playing alto sax. Don't have the name with me, but he was only 16, and worth watching.

Grimes didn't say a word. Nick Rosen did the intros, and he seems to have gotten it together.

Two untitled numbers of free jazz, each about 30 minutes. Both quite good (although my date didn't quite get into it). The first number, IMHO, went on too long. Some second solos to people who weren't quite up for it. Maybe the songs had titles and were from somewhere, but I don't know the sources, and no titles were called.

Grimes himself played without pause for the full 60 minutes, dripping sweat, sounding great, listening intensely, playng some walking lines. But he really did not solo! I guess he doesn't feel up to it yet, as everyone else soloed. Also, he looked down at the bass the whole time, as though he weren't fully confident about his fingering yet. But everything he played sounded good to me.

The best moment for me from the two pieces was the end of the second piece, which was a lovely duet between Nels and Henry. I dreaded the possibility that everyone was going to come back in again, but they didn't.

Oh, and Mike, thank you for posting that article about Waldron.

[AfricaBrass]

Thanks for the review, Adam!

I wish I could have been there. I used to see Nels Cline often about 9 years ago. I enjoyed his playing then. It must have been great to see Grimes. I hope he really gets back into playing.

:rsmile: :rsmile:

[ghost of miles]

An update that from Lois' post on Jazz Corner. Grimes is going to play the Vision Festival in New York City on Memorial Day, May 26:

Henry Grimes received the bass William Parker named Olive Oil (more, I

think, due to the greenish tinge of her finish than for Popeye's girlfriend)

on December 16th, 2OO2. We've been in touch with Henry, & he is ecstatic to

have Olive Oil & has been practicing hard ever since. & after only a few

months with Olive Oil, Henry Grimes has begun to emerge from his room. He's

been practicing with several area musicians, played two concerts with NELS &

ALEX CLINE at Billy Higgins's World Stage earlier this month followed by two

more at the Howling Monk in Inglewood, CA on April 18th & 19th, has been

teaching improvisation part~time at a local high school, & is scheduled to

play as special guest in New York City's great Vision Festival in May.

ANDREW CYRILLE, PHAROAH SANDERS, & REGGIE WORKMAN visited with Henry at a

local club called the Jazz Bakery recently & were overjoyed to see him again

& to find him in such good physical & emotional shape. Meanwhile, donations

of bass supplies, as well as individual financial gifts, have been

accumulating slowly but steadily at David Gage's shop, where Henry is able

to order any bass supplies he wants for Olive Oil, & bassist MARK DRESSER

recently made a delivery directly from David Gage's shop to Henry Grimes.

Here's the Monday, May 26 10:30 p.m. lineup:

10:30 William Parker leads the Jeanne Lee Project voices: Thomas Buckner, Ellen Christi, Jay Clayton, Lisa Sokolov; Rob Brown alto, Lewis Barnes trumpet, Joe Daley tuba Cooper Moore ashimba, piano, Gerald Cleaver drums, William Parker balaphon, Ngoni, bass and

special guest Henry Grimes

For the full schedule, here's the link. Damn, wish I could get to NYC for this!

Vision

[Adam]

He also seems to be playing again at the Jazz Bakery on June 10 with a completely different line-up.

http://www.jazzbakery.org/Calendar.html

6/10

8 & 9:30 PM

$20

HENRY GRIMES

JOHN WOOD

GREG DAHL

ERIC STECK

[Soul Stream]

That's great that Grimes is playing again. Amazing. I mentioned it to George Braith, and he said he used to have a steady working band with Grimes as the bassist. Said Henry was a real quiet guy. Not surprisingly... Got his solo ESP reissued LP and love it. What a genius that guy is.

[Michael Fitzgerald]

A few hours ago I brought Perry Robinson and Tom Price to meet Henry, a beautiful reunion of the trio from "The Call." They had a marvelous time and we may well see them play together again in the near future. I also met with Nick Rosen who is a great guy who traveled to NYC with Henry. Nick is working to set up some gigs for Henry in California. An appearance with Joseph Jarman is a strong possibility.

Mike

[Late]

Would be great to have a reunion recording of the members from this album. Mike, what can you tell us about Tom Price? I don't know anything about him outside of the work he did for ESP.

Edited May 23, 2003 by Late