Sam Noto - Notes to You

Copyright ® Steven Cerra, copyright protected, all rights reserved.

Another reposting by way of remembering San Noto who passed away on October 16, 2026.

“ … Sam's playing … embodies his extension of the style that runs from Dizzy Gillespie to Fats Navarro through Clifford Brown. Of all the major trumpet soloists at work today who come out of Clifford, Noto is spiritually and technically most faithful to the source. His production of notes … shows a thorough understanding of Brownie's artistry. Too much, of course, can be made of artistic lineage; no one really plays like anyone else. … Sam's allegiance to the Brown style is important to his conception. But he is too forthright an individual to allow his personality to be submerged beneath even the oceanic influence of Brown.”

- Doug Ramsey, Jazz author, critic and blogger

From 1975 - 1980, the brilliant Jazz trumpet player, Sam Noto, made four LPs for Don Schlitten’s Xanadu record label none of which have made it into broader, digital circulation.

The editorial staff at JazzProfiles thought it would be fun to highlight Sam and his Xanadu recordings in four, separate postings before combining these into one, comprehensive feature about Sam and the other recordings he played on for Xanadu as a sideman during this period, most notably on one in which he teamed up with bebop trumpet legend, Red Rodney.

Not only are Jazz fans indebted to Don for recording Sam at the peak of his career but also for turning to four knowledgeable Jazz authors to prepare the liner notes to these LPs each of which provide a wealth of information about Sam’s background, his style of playing, the musicians on the various dates and the song selections.

Recorded on December 18, 1977, Sam Noto/Notes to You [Xanadu 144] features Sam along with Joe Romano, tenor sax, Ronnie Cuber, baritone sax, Jimmy Rowles on piano, Sam Jones on bass and Freddie Waits on drums with the following liner notes by Doug Ramsey.

“It was late Spring or early Summer, 1957, and Stan Kenton was playing a dance at the Washington Armory. The band may not have been Kenton's best, but it was by no means his worst. Lennie Niehaus was the featured alto saxophone soloist. Bill Perkins got most of the tenor solos. Red Kelly was the bassist. The trumpet section included two players I thought showed promise as soloists. One was Lee Katzman, who dropped out of sight after the 1950s. The other was Sam Noto. None of the trumpeters got much in the way of solo time from Kenton, he kept them so busy blowing high and loud. But lead trumpeter Noto showed more than power in his scattered few bars of improvisation. He had imagination.

The few of us who had come to listen were grouped at the edge of the dance floor, and I remember one of our number remarking that it would be interesting to hear Noto stretch out in solo. None of us dreamed it would be nearly two decades before that opportunity materialized.

Note's Kenton experience lasted from 1953 to 1960, but for most of that time, he recalls, "there was precious little solo space."

"Near the end, I started to get a lot to play, but it took a long time," he says. "By then Stan had put me on first trumpet and it was kind of hard to keep my jazz chops together, and play that book. It's a different kind of thing. When you play first trumpet, you have to put your air in differently, because you're aiming for projection. When you play jazz, you have to kind of bubble your air in to get the proper inflections. It was hurting me; I wanted to be a jazz player and he was making a first trumpet player out of me. That's why I never went back on the band."

Looking back on the lead experience with Kenton, Noto today realizes its value. It made a professional reputation that helped him land lucrative lead jobs in Las Vegas, where until the mid-seventies he worked in show bands. And the ability developed in the pressure cooker brass section of the Kenton band has made it possible for him to secure more or less steady studio employment in Toronto. Now he uses the Canadian city as a base of operations for his beloved jazz work. It isn't fair, it isn't right, that a creative artist of Noto's rank should have to record jingles and other schlock to subsidize his first love. But it is more fair, more right, than starving.

Starving is what he says he did after leaving Kenton and returning to his native Buffalo.

"After a couple of years of hard times, I got myself together jazz-wise. I began to be able to play the way I had wanted to during the Kenton years."

That meant developing his improvisatory technique. An important component of that was the business of bubbling the air into his horn. Other trumpet players, notably Clifford Brown, have used it, but it is as difficult to explain as it is to master.

"I get four or five calls a week from students at the Humber College music school in Toronto asking how I do it. If I could only get an answer together, I could probably make a good living teaching. I just keep the air going, but I interrupt it, sometimes with the tongue, sometimes without it, but it sounds like I'm tonguing all the time. I picked it up from just listening to Clifford. He sometimes tongued, sometimes slurred, but he kept that air going. He did it in such a way that it became a virtuoso style of playing. It's hard to explain, and you don't do it by thinking about it too much. And you can't really tell how I do it by watching. Trumpet players from the school come down all the time and watch closely, but they still ask how I do it."

After the years of getting his style and technique together in Buffalo, Noto went on the road with Count Basie for five months in 1964 and three months in 1965. He found that big band experience considerably different from the one with Kenton. He was featured in solo on only a couple of pieces. But he says he learned something about the Basie men's approach to playing that proved a valuable lesson.

"When I first got on the band, I was sticking out like a sore thumb," he says. "Those cats play differently. They lay back. They play with the time more. A whole section will be in a different time slot than another section. But it all comes out. It's much more relaxed than Kenton. At first with Basie I was playing right on top of the beat, but after a few nights I began to get the hang of it. I really enjoyed it. With Basie, if it doesn't swing, it doesn't mean anything. With Stan, everything was more concerned with harmonic style."

When he left Basie, times were rough in Buffalo, and Sam moved to Las Vegas for several years of financially rewarding but artistically barren activity in the pits of the Strip's show hotels. There were a few Musicians Union trust fund concerts in which Noto and other jazz players attracted by Vegas' plentiful money could express themselves. Otherwise, jam sessions provided the only creative outlet.

"Playing in people's' garages after the gig, that was the only way we kept our sanity."

Among his companions at many of those after-hour sessions was Gus Mancuso, another talented upstate New Yorker who is equally accomplished on piano, vibes, bass, and baritone horn and who has been all but buried in the Las Vegas scene for two decades. The Mangione brothers, Sal Nistico, J. R. Monterose, Don Menza, Frank Strazzeri, and Joe Romano are among the upstaters who developed in the fifties and sixties and who share an indefinable but unmistakable stylistic bond.

"It sure has a certain kind of feel about it," Sam agrees. "Some people in L.A., without even knowing where we're from, can hear us play and know we're from that area. Some Upstate Italian thing, I guess."

Romano and Noto have been doing their Upstate Italian thing together off and on since the early 1950s when Sam was working at a Buffalo club called Boffo's. Romano visited from Rochester one night and sat in.

"I was impressed with Joe's playing that night, always have been. Through the years, we've been associated. When I had my own club in Buffalo, he worked with me."

Joe was a Woody Herman mainstay in the 1950s, recording outside the band occasionally, including a 1957 date with Gus Mancuso that was memorable for Joe's Sonny Rollins-inspired solos as well as Gus's robust baritone horn work. He still likes early Sonny, as you can plainly hear, but what was an almost overwhelming influence 20 years ago has been tempered by Joe's development, and to some extent by the saxophone changes of the Coltrane era. More of the fruits of the Noto/Romano relationship may be heard on Sam's second Xanadu album. Act One (X 127). Sam's first album for Xanadu is called Entrance! (X 103). He can also be heard along with Dexter Cordon, Al Cohn, Blue Mitchell, Barry Harris, Sam Jones and Louis Hayes on True Blue (X 136) and Silver Blue (X 137).

This was the first time Noto had played with Jimmy Rowles, the unclassifiable piano giant from Spokane. Rowles has accompanied virtually every major jazz artist of the modern era, and each of them has been almost unreasonably lavish in his or her praise of Jimmy's sensitivity, inventiveness, humor, and encyclopedic knowledge of tunes. It is quite likely that Rowles knows more changes to more songs than anyone else. He is a major soloist. It strikes me that his solo on Parley is an out and out masterpiece of jazz improvisation, logical, lyrical, constructed with the fluidity of thought and emotion that can be achieved only by a great artist. Producer Don Schlitten notes that "a number of so-called hip musicologists did a double take when they found out that Rowles was in the band, but as you can hear, Rowles is a giant and belongs everywhere."

Sam was thrilled with Jimmy's contribution.

"He was dancin' back there," he says. "He loosened me up. He plays a little less than other piano players. In fact, he's one of the last of the good compers. He comps lightly and in short spurts, where some guys will lay on a chord and force you into a corner with it. And studio playing is something else, you know; he was about 15 yards away from me. But, as I say, he was dancin', giving me those nice little pops to keep me going." Jimmy can also be heard in duel form with Al Cohn on Heavy Love (X 1451).

Sam Jones, one of the busiest and most respected bassists in New York, works frequently these days in clubs and on tour with Cedar Wallon. He is featured on many Xanadu albums and on his own as leader on Cello Again (X 129). He continues the Oscar Pettiford tradition of bass playing, but has long since established his reputation as a major force on his instrument.

Waits' credentials can be quickly established by listing a few of the artists he has worked with: Sonny Rollins, Freddie Hubbard, Ella Fitzgerald, Kenny Dorham, McCoy Tyner, Carmen McRae, Lee Morgan, Mercer Ellington, Stan Getz, James Moody, Milt Jackson, Nancy Wilson, not to mention Captain Kangaroo. The range of abilities implied by that variety of performer speaks for itself. So does his drumming on this session, as well as on The Inimitable Teddy Edwards (X 134).

Ronnie Cuber's first jazz experience was in the legendary Newport Youth Band led by Marshall Brown in the 1950s. From there he went to Maynard Ferguson's incendiary early sixties organization. But, for most listeners, he became a major baritone factor when he worked with the exciting small band led by guitarist George Benson in 1966 and 1967. His sound is large, but incisive. He is a solid anchorman in a sax section, and a soloist who demands attention for his swaggeringly confident improvisations. Cuber's ferocious work on Parley is among his best on record. His own album is Cuber Libre (X 135).

As for Sam's playing, it embodies his extension of the style that runs from Dizzy Gillespie to Fats Navarro through Clifford Brown. Of all the major trumpet soloists at work today who come out of Clifford, Noto is spiritually and technically most faithful to the source. His production of notes, alluded to above in his discussion of technique, shows a thorough understanding of Brownie's artistry. Too much, of course, can be made of artistic lineage; no one really plays like anyone else. Paul Quinichette, for an example, is the most faithful of Lester Young's disciples, but the experienced listener can quickly pinpoint Quinichette's touches. Sam's allegiance to the Brown style is important to his conception. But he is too forthright an individual to allow his personality to be submerged beneath even the oceanic influence of Brown. Listen to his entry on 'Round Midnight, and his controlled lyricism in the first four bars of the melody. No mistaking that for any other trumpet player. His speed and control are much like Clifford's, but his fast work on Notes To You makes it clear that his way of handling those flurries of 16th notes is his own. Brownie was inclined to play uninterrupted strings of 16ths, sometimes to the point of boredom, one of the few legitimate criticisms of his work. Noto alternates the fast passages with stretches of longer notes, imparting a distinctive variety to his solos.

This album also represents Sam Noto the composer. All of his originals here are originals in the true sense. There is one exception. Notes To You is based on the changes of I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire, of all things.

"All the bebop guys used to put new lines to old changes," Sam explains. "We were messing around with those changes one day, and that's what I came up with. But lately all my tunes have had original changes."

Quasinoto and Conclusions were written in Toronto in 1976. Cross Chris and Parley dale back to the early sixties and Noto's Buffalo hiatus.

"Cross Chris was named after my son. He was a hyperkinetic little boy, and he was always angry. Now he's 17, and he's still angry. So it's a turnaround on 'criss-cross' but it has no musical relationship to the Thelonious Monk tune named Criss Cross,"

Quasinoto was one of Sam's nicknames in Las Vegas. "Notes" was another, hence Notes To You, a song and album title definitely not to be taken as an insult.

Sam is moderately pleased with his playing here. Pressed to assign it a value on a scale of one to ten, the perfectionist Noto gives it a 6. He says he has achieved 8 a few times, and is still working for 10. Based on the perfection of his playing on this album, we must conclude that if 10 is achievable, it will be a staggering experience to hear Sam when he gets there.

With three Xanadu albums under his leadership, Sam's Notoriety is growing. After years of solid development, he is being recognized as a major jazz artist. It is gratifying to watch...and hear...his success.”

Notes: DOUG RAMSEY

Cover Photo: DON SCHLITTEN

Recording: PAUL GOODMAN

Produced and Directed: DON SCHLITTEN

Bassist Oscar Pettiford and drummer Kenny Clarke with Phineas Newborn Jr.

 

Oscar Pettiford's Tricky "Bohemia After Dark"

 "There's a funny thing used to happen. Oscar had this wonderful piece he wrote called Bohemia After Dark. And the bridge sounds like some American Indian-type thing—tom-tom. And this was very tricky rhythmically. And he used to keep this piece on the music stands, and naturally a lot of people would come to sit in. He used this as a theme to end every set. A lot of very important players would come down there—big stars and all that. He used to get the biggest kick—they'd sit in, and everything was fine; and at the end of the set, he'd say, ‘Theme, play the theme. There it is, up there, play the theme, go on out.’ And these guys would say, 'Oh, yeah, sure,' and they'd read it and do the first sixteen down fine, then they'd get to that bridge—to a man they'd mumble and stumble all over the place, couldn't play it. And Oscar used to crack up. This was his idea of a musical joke. 'Cause nobody could play it. They'd just sorta ride along and come to a big rut in the street. It was a very unorthodox phrase. If you got to look at it a little bit, you could play it, but it's not the kind of thing anybody would sight-read that well. So he used to get a tremendous kick out of stumping the experts, so to speak." - Pianist Dick Katz as told to Ira Gitler

Winner of the 2025 Jazz Journalist Association Special Citation for Historic Writings, Steven Cerra is the author of anthologies on Gerry Mulligan, Bill Evans, Stan Kenton, Dave Brubeck, Shelly Manne, Jazz West Coast Readers Vols. 1-3, Profiles in Jazz, Vol.1, Jazz Drummers A Reader Vols. 1-2, Jazz Saxophonists A Reader, Vol. 1, 2 & 3, Jazz Piano A Reader, Vols. 1, 2 & 3, Jazz Trumpet A Reader Vols. 1 and 2, A Companion Celebrating The 100th Anniversary of the Jean Goldkette Orchestras, 1926-2026 and a Companion to Jazz Interpretations of Porgy and Bess. His latest publication is A Bill Evans Reader Vol. 2 - THE NOTES; a collection of fully annotated liner, insert and boxed sets notes from Bill’s recordings. He also hosts the jazzprofiles.blogspot and cerra.substack blogs.

Oscar Pettiford and Kenny Clarke by Dick Katz

 © Introduction. Copyright ® Steven Cerra, copyright protected, all rights reserved.

"[Pianist Dick] Katz, who was working with J.J. Johnson and Kai Winding, dropped in one night, and Pettiford asked him to sit in. "I'd admired him from afar with my jaw hanging down in awe," says Katz. Oscar had a kind of forbidding personality if you didn't know him. He played with real authority. That's an understatement. His was real authority, wasn't any kind of fake—I mean as music went—because underneath, you know, basically he was a gentle man. People don't see him that way.



"He was an unhappy man in lots of ways. He was a frustrated man. He had illusions of grandeur. It happened to a lot of people who came up when he did. He was trying to make his own adjustment to the inequities of the scene. He couldn't understand why he wasn't as famous as Dizzy Gillespie. He actually consciously thought about this a great deal. He was very unrealistic in his business dealings, particularly in that period.


"He was a proud man. You don't see this kind of pride any more. It wasn't cockiness — it was a different thing. It wasn't a hippie thing — like, 'I'm it and you're not.' It was a kind of competitiveness that comes with real authority and knowing you can do something really well. He didn't go around beating people up with this. It was kind of healthy — he put the kind of realistic pressure on a musician playing with him, like, 'Well, can you play or can't you play?" and I found it refreshing, although when I first played with him, I'll admit I was a little scared."


After this sit-in, Pettiford asked Katz to play with his group. "So I worked there for a few weeks," says Dick. "It was Kenny Clarke and Oscar, Art Farmer and Gigi Gryce." Playing in a rhythm section with two masters like Pettiford and Clarke was a revelation to Katz. [...] he talks about Clarke's "playing" the drums rather than "beating" them. "Oscar Pettiford played the bass the same way," he said. "It was a kind of strength. Technique is not merely facility. A lot of guys mix this up. They think that the ability to play fast is technique. It's only one aspect of technique, because technique is control, the ability to control what you're doing. To play softly — strong but at a low-volume level — is exceedingly difficult.


"Sometimes Oscar and Kenny were like two old women. They'd bicker. Each would accuse the other of goofing in the music, when they'd actually sounded great."


Pettiford and Clarke played together with an unusual brand of finesse. Katz compared them with the rhythm teams of the late fifties who are usually described as "cooking" or "really taking care of business." "These same kind of people who play hard— Kenny and Oscar would cook most of them out of the place on the same level that they're talking about, but they would do it with some grace. There was an intensity. My God, the first time I played with those two, I felt like I'd been run over by a Mack truck or a freight train. It was powerful, but it wasn't stevedore powerful—it's the difference between a Rolls Royce and a tractor.


"They could express a variety of feelings. They would listen to the music and adjust what they did to the music. There wasn't this kind of superselfconscious, sickening, overindulgent, 'I'm an artist' routine.""

- From Ira Gitler, Jazz Masters of the 40s [1966]

Winner of the 2025 Jazz Journalist Association Special Citation for Historic Writings, Steven Cerra is the author of anthologies on Gerry Mulligan, Bill Evans, Stan Kenton, Dave Brubeck, Shelly Manne, Jazz West Coast Readers Vols. 1-3, Profiles in Jazz, Vol.1, Jazz Drummers A Reader Vols. 1-2, Jazz Saxophonists A Reader, Vol. 1, 2 & 3, Jazz Piano A Reader, Vols. 1, 2 & 3, Jazz Trumpet A Reader Vols. 1 and 2, A Companion Celebrating The 100th Anniversary of the Jean Goldkette Orchestras, 1926-2026 and a Companion to Jazz Interpretations of Porgy and Bess. His latest publication is A Bill Evans Reader Vol. 2 - THE NOTES; a collection of fully annotated liner, insert and boxed sets notes from Bill’s recordings. He also hosts the jazzprofiles.blogspot and cerra.substack blogs.

Oscar Pettiford on Bass featured on Coleman Hawkins Quartet's version of "The Man I Love"

"Oscar recorded with Hawkins for the Signature label. Pettiford's solo on The Man I Love still stands as one of his great ones. Part of its early fame stemmed from the attraction that his clearly audible breathing between phrases had for some people. While this does add to the immediacy of the solo, the musical merit is what keeps it a significant piece of improvisation today. When The Man I Love was reissued on a Brunswick LP, Blues Changes, a previously unreleased track from yet another December Hawkins session, was included in the album. Pettiford's solo here is remarkably like the recorded work by which Blanton is remembered." - Ira Gitler

Eddie Heywood on piano and Shelly Manne on drums.


Winner of the 2025 Jazz Journalist Association Special Citation for Historic Writings, Steven Cerra is the author of anthologies on Gerry Mulligan, Bill Evans, Stan Kenton, Dave Brubeck, Shelly Manne, Jazz West Coast Readers Vols. 1-3, Profiles in Jazz, Vol.1, Jazz Drummers A Reader Vols. 1-2, Jazz Saxophonists A Reader, Vol. 1, 2 & 3, Jazz Piano A Reader, Vols. 1, 2 & 3, Jazz Trumpet A Reader Vols. 1 and 2, A Companion Celebrating The 100th Anniversary of the Jean Goldkette Orchestras, 1926-2026 and a Companion to Jazz Interpretations of Porgy and Bess. His latest publication is A Bill Evans Reader Vol. 2 - THE NOTES; a collection of fully annotated liner, insert and boxed sets notes from Bill’s recordings. He also hosts the jazzprofiles.blogspot and cerra.substack blogs.

Sam Noto - Act One

Copyright ® Steven Cerra, copyright protected, all rights reserved.

Another reposting by way of remembering San Noto who passed away on October 16, 2026.

“Like most instrumentalists who also compose, Noto reveals in his written lines a flow akin to his trumpet emanations.”

- Ira Gitler

From 1975 - 1980, the brilliant Jazz trumpet player, Sam Noto, made four LPs for Don Schlitten’s Xanadu record label none of which have made it into broader, digital circulation.

The editorial staff at JazzProfiles thought it would be fun to highlight Sam and his Xanadu recordings in four, separate postings before combining these into one, comprehensive feature about Sam and the other recordings he played on for Xanadu as a sideman during this period, most notably on one in which he teamed up with bebop trumpet legend, Red Rodney.

Not only are Jazz fans indebted to Don for recording Sam at the peak of his career but also for turning to four knowledgeable Jazz authors to prepare the liner notes to these LPs each of which provide a wealth of information about Sam’s background, his style of playing, the musicians on the various dates and the song selections.

Recorded on December 1,1975, Sam Noto/Act One [Xanadu 127] features Sam along with Joe Romano, tenor sax, Barry Harris on piano, Sam Jones on bass and Billy Higgins on drums with the following liner notes by Ira Gitler.

“After a series of "Now, coach?" frustrations Sam Noto's virtuoso brilliance was finally revealed beyond the circle of his musical associates by a recording he made in trumpet tandem with Red Rodney during 1974 [Red Rodney Plays Superbop with Sam Noto [Muse 5046]. When the producer of that date, Don Schlitten, formed Xanadu Records, he helped bring Noto's talent more clearly into focus with Sam's debut as a recording leader. Entrance! [Xanadu 103) is a quartet date in which his is the sole horn, spotlighted against vivid backdrop of Barry Harris, Leroy Vinnegar and Lenny McBrowne. The locale of this recording session was Los Angeles because, at the time, Noto was still living and working in Las Vegas.

In Act One the action shifts to New York, Sam having moved to Toronto, and the cast of characters is altered in several instances. Harris remains on stage but this time he is joined by the solid, sensitive duo of [bassist] Sam Jones and [drummer] Billy Higgins. At the  center of the proscenium with Noto is his compatriot of long standing, [tenor saxophonist] Joe Romano. The last time they had played together was in a Carl Fontana sextet at the Silver Slipper in Vegas, circa '68.

Noto heralded his Entrance! with two of his own originals, the title number and one dedicated to his daughter, Jen-Jen. For Act One it was decided to showcase more of Sam's compositions. Like most instrumentalists who also compose, Noto reveals in his written lines a flow akin to his trumpet emanations. Romano describes them as "intricate" and admits that they're tricky to negotiate. There had been a considerable time lapse since Sam and Joe last blew together, in the mid-60's in Sam's quintet at the Renaissance in Buffalo.

"We never have to talk about the music," says Sam in pointing out the great empathy that has existed between them from the early 50's when Joe (from Rochester) and Sam (from Buffalo) began communicating amidst the then active scene in upstate New York.

Renaissance was Noto's own jazz coffee house and it was thriving — up to a point. Success in the jazz club business is not easily accomplished by purveying capuccino. When Sam applied for a wine and beer license, he was refused due to Renaissance's geographical proximity to a YMCA. This turn of events forced him to give up the club and set out for Las Vegas and a steady paycheck.

If you've read Mark Gardner's fine liner notes for Entrance! you know that Sam finally had to split from the "Strip" in 1975. In Toronto he is enjoying a chance for self-expression with jazz gigs at George's Spaghetti House and Mother Necessity. He has also had the opportunity to display his solo talents in his native city through appearances at the University of Buffalo and McKinley High School, as well as at clubs such as Mulligan's and Ericson's.

Romano, known for his work with Woody Herman in the '50's and '60's, played with Buddy Rich, off and on, in the 1968-70 period and was featured with the drummer's band in 1972-74. In 1975 he moved to New York where he has worked with Chuck Israels' National Jazz Ensemble and on occasion with the Thad Jones-Mel Lewis Orchestra. On his last tour of duty with Rich he was on alto but he is back to his main love, the tenor. He is, in Noto's words, "a natural player."

That coincides with what I hear, sincerity that is evident in every phrase he plays. I don't think Romano could blow a dishonest note if he tried. This love of and for the music comes through unmistakably. Some of us became aware of this when he recorded with Chuck Mangione back in the early 60's on an album called Recuerdo. Charlie Parker and Bud Powell were early inspirations for Joe and, like most tenormen of the period in which he matured, he talks with reverence for Sonny Rollins and John Coltrane. On listening you hear that Sonny is his main man, the Rollins of the years before that giant decided he had to promise to be au courant. It is a pure, beautiful, swinging language and Romano speaks it fluently.

Another man whose sincerity, integrity and pursuit of life-pulsing beauty are well-known entities is pianist Barry Harris. Barry has been on so many Xanadu sessions he is beginning to take on the appearance of Kubla Khan's high priest. When Don Schlitten asks him to step in, his musical response is invariably the equivalent of "Khan Dhu." Harris, whose own albums are Plays Tadd Dameron (Xanadu 113) and Live In Tokyo (Xanadu 130), always inspires the hornmen as well as taking care of his solo spots with deceptive ease.

Sam Jones is another Xanadu leader (Cello Again, Xanadu 129) whose bass graces many a date for the company in a supporting role. He is a disciple of Oscar Pettiford and this no nonsense approach to the instrument is one that is strongly appreciated by his fellows.

Billy Higgins and Jones most often are part of the Cedar Walton trio but they are just as much at home with Harris. Together the three supply a flotation-rotation that grooves as it moves on zephyr-like hooves.

Act One, Noto's Latinate adaptation of Well You Needn't (the bridge is different) opens Act One. The party of the first part is Romano who comes out burning from the git-go. Noto is next and, as he is throughout, far more relaxed than usual. The fire is still there, however, but more importantly so is the warmth which so many of the later lineal descendants of Clifford Brown seem to lack, whatever their attributes. But then Sam had the advantage of hearing Diz, Miles and, especially, Fats Navarro before Brownie even got to him. Higgins is buoyant in his exchanges with the horns.

The medley which follows is made up of three great ballads that are not rare enough to be cliches: I Should Care featuring Harris; What Is There to Say by Romano; and You Are Too Beautiful by Noto.

Aries, indicative of the birth sign of both hornmen, has an out-of-tempo intro, reveried by the two rams, that evolves into a restless, modal swinger. Perhaps due to the modal character, traces of Trane and Miles surface here in Romano and Noto, respectively.

A mellow tempo and lovely melodic-harmonic structure mark Upstate Association, Sam evokes Brownie with a gorgeous brass sound and grace-noted accents. Joe lays back and lays on heavy applications of muscular authority and Barry does some controlled stone-skipping on the tops of the cumuli.

Wavelength is a bright treatment of You Stepped Out of a Dream with Romano reading off in anything but a trancelike attitude; Harris working-out in his best chord-devouring manner; and Noto singing through his mouthpiece like a machine gun shooting love bullets. The melodic dancing on the traps is by the delicately powerful Higgins.

Contact may give you That Old Feeling. The feeling it gives me is that of a hip parade band walking it right down Main Street at the point where they're into a second strain, volume down. The horns are lyrical and Barry throws in a Groovin’ High quote to give it the bop of approval. Jones' only solo of the set brings the Pettiford spirit to life.

In a liner note for a Sal Nistico album in the '60's Gene Lees commented on the "gifted group of young musicians to emerge recently from the wilds of upstate New York" and stated: "Trying to figure out why they should have come up in the unpromising vicinity of the Syracuse-Rochester area and all be Italian is probably as futile as trying to learn why a weirdly large number of the world's great concert violinists are not only Jewish, but members of Russian Jewish families from Odessa!"

To Syracuse and Rochester could be added Buffalo, Utica and Troy. The Italian delegation includes J.R. Monterose, Sal Nistico, Gus Mancuso, Sal Amico, Chuck and Gap Mangione, Don Menza, Nick Brignola and, of course, that potent upstate association of Noto and Romano,

This is Noto's Act One in six scenes. Let the play begin.”

Notes: IRA GITLER

Cover Photo: DON SCHLITTEN

Recording: PAUL GOODMAN

Produced & Directed by DON SCHLITTEN

Sam Noto - Entrance!

© Introduction. Copyright ® Steven Cerra, copyright protected, all rights reserved.

Sam passed away on October 16, 2026 at the age of 96 and I am re-posting this feature as a memoriam.

From 1975 - 1980, the brilliant Jazz trumpet player, Sam Noto, made four LPs for Don Schlitten’s Xanadu record label none of which, to my knowledge, have made it into broader, digital circulation.

Not only are Jazz fans indebted to Don for recording Sam at the peak of his career but also for turning to four knowledgeable Jazz authors to prepare the liner notes to these LPs each of which provide a wealth of information about Sam’s background, his style of playing, the musicians on the various dates and the song selections.

Recorded on March 2, 1975, Sam Noto/Entrance! [Xanadu 103] features Sam along with Barry Harris on piano, Leroy Vinnegar on bass and Lenny McBrowne on drums with the following liner notes by Mark Gardner.

Trumpeter Sam Noto has been waiting in the wings a long time to make this solo Entrance! He recorded this album, the first under his own leadership, six weeks before his forty-fifth birthday Yet his career as a professional musician began as long ago as 1947 when Sam quit high school to go on the road with the first of many big bands whose trumpet sections were graced by the Noto horn. His initial emergence as a more-than-promising soloist happened when he was with Stan Kenton in the 1950s, but he wasn't properly featured on LP until 1974 and thereby hangs a story.

In 1969 producer Don Schlitten and writer Ira Gitler were visiting Red Rodney in Las Vegas. Red. always quick to extol the virtues of gifted players, pulled the visitors coattails to Sam Noto They had to hear him and Don must record him, urged the enthusiastic Rodney. Don listened was gassed and later in the year booked Sam for a session in New York with saxophonist Sonny Cnss. Unfortunately, the date fell through.

Then in 1974, Schlitten was in Hollywood to produce recordings for another label. The idea for one of the dates was to pair both the trumpets of Rodney and Noto. At last Sam was heard for the beautiful player he is. You don't hear too many trumpeters now with a pure lineage that encapsulates the spirit and feeling of Dizzy, Fats, Brownie and early Miles. Here he was —a superb soloist and fully-fledged master who had been buried in the blaring, brassy showbiz musical jungle of Las Vegas for far too long.

And now we are getting undiluted Noto with a hand-picked rhythm section For when Don Schlitten founded his own Xanadu label Sam Noto was on his top priority list for recording. Hence Barry Harris and Don taking wings to Los Angeles earlier this year to give Sam the proper showcase that has been denied him for so long. Noto is a giant —that much will hit you as soon as he hits Fats Flats. The faith of Schlitten and Rodney is amply justified on these sides

Everyone likes to be right occasionally, and in the case of Sam Noto this writer must proclaim,  “I told you so.'" Reviewing a 1957 Stan Kenton album for Jazz Journal way bark in April 1961, I opined Sam Noto takes admirable warm solos on With The Wind, They Didn't Believe Me and I See Your Face Before Me. He is a musician deserving of a wider exposure. Give this a listen, by all means - if only for Sam Noto.

I didn’t get to hear Sam again until he surfaced with the Count Basie Orchestra for a brief -period during 1964/65. His occasional solo in that context emphasized his continual development but it was crumbs from the table for those even vaguely aware of Sam’s potential.

Sam Noto was born in Buffalo, New York, on April 17, 193O which made him more than a contemporary ot Clifford Brown. Only six months separated the two men.  He studied trumpet in grammar school but he says, “I don't have much of a background in straight music Most of what I learned was through self-tuition and experience on the road. "

A couple of school buddies turned him onto jazz when he-was 16. At that point in time just after World War II, jazz was bursting out of its earlier forms and bebop was already in full flower. Sam was listening hard. “The first trumpet player to move me was Dizzy and then Fats.  After them, Miles they were the first influences along with Bird. Of course Charlie Parker was probably the most important musical inspiration to me. Later it was Brownie, Coltrane and Rollins. Those are players I listened to the most.”

As a teenager he quit school and shuffled off from Buffalo on the road with some band or other for the next six years.  He worked with Louie Bellson for a time but 1953 found him gigging around Buffalo again He was in the right place at the right time as things worked out.

"I went with Kenton as a result of an accident The band bus had a very bad crash on the way to Buffalo. When the band got to Buffalo it was short of men because a number had been hurt in the accident. So I was called to play Thein the band for that night’s engagement.  I stayed with the band until 1960.” The years with Kenton made Sam a power player of stamina. He crossed America many times and toured Europe as well. Although he was often given solo spots in the arrangements it was not exactly a satisfactory framework for such a talent.

But as Jazz  entered into a lean period in the 1960s, Sam, after a hitch with Basie was forced to seek employment in Las Vegas where no matter how crummy the music, an instrumentalist of his ability could and can earn a comfortable living. Such an environment, though, erodes one's patience. In a word it is frustrating. As 1974, closed Sam made a resolution that this year he would get out: “I left Vegas because it is a musical graveyard. All show and no music It was driving me mad,” Noto summarises succinctly.

He has chosen Toronto, Canada, as his new base of operations. "I plan to stay here in Toronto and try to work playing Jazz even it I have to travel to do it.” I always wanted my own group — had one for a spell with Joe Romano on tenor around 1965 - and to play Jazz.  As for Canada being permanent, as long as I can work and support my family I'll stay.”

Sam enjoyed making this session. “I found it very challenging me to do an album with no other horn, but I dug it. Playing with another horn can change or alter your playing. Sometimes, for the worst yet sometimes for the better. I really enjoyed Barry Harris I think he was beautiful on the date. " I am pleased that my first album as leader came off as well as it did. For putting together musicians that never played together it was good." You can say that again, Sam, even though you feel it could have been better. Like all true artists, Sam doesn’t even look back at even the most recent achievements. What he will play and create tomorrow is of even more importance.  That spirit ensures there will he more goodies from Sam in the future

Sam tips his cap to Schlitten and Rodney, the men who kept faith with him. Of the former Noto says: “I think Don Schlitten is a very courageous man for keeping his interest and love for the music throughout the bad times jazz has seen in more recent years We need more like him "

Rodney has said of Noto: “We finally got Sam on record and from now on I feel a great new trumpet star will be unveiled.”  For his part, Noto states, “I always thought Red Rodney was one of the best white jazz players." He has a high opinion of Freddie Hubbard but admits “Miles has lost me entirely.”

Looking back Sam feels: "My years with Kenton. Basie and other big bands were a good experience, but hardly the place to play personal music. I didn’t develop my ears and my trumpet playing.” As for the pre Kenton days, “I was travelling with very commercial bands and listening and playing as much jazz as I could.”

Sam's allegiance to the Fats/Brownie school of unadulterated bebop is most apparent on this date.  He evokes Fats on two of that great man's works which Navarro recorded in September 1947. Fats Flats is also known as Barry's Bop (an allusion to critic Ulanov and not pianist Harris), but it is here given the correct title. Nostalgia is Navarro s lovely line on Out Of Nowhere changes.  Lover Man, so emotionally associated with Bird was never recorded by Clifford Brown except in a version with JJ Johnson on which Brownie had only a couple of notes.  Here Noto does it up just as Brownie might have conceived it. I can think of no finer tribute to Sam’s artistry and no better tribute to Brownie on record Sam's two originals. Entrance! and Jen-Jen, both of which belie the composer’s assertion that he does not spend enough time at writing as he should. I do also play flugelhorn and enough piano to write my tunes. But really, I have devoted about all my efforts to trumpet through the years.”

His choice of program is rounded out by the Kern standard Make Believe from Showboat, a tune that inspired the late Kenny Dorham to record a memorable version, and Tchaikovsky’s The Things I Love, a timeless romantic melody.  We quickly recognize that Fats Flats is a fast and happy way of exclaiming What Is This Thing Called Love? Ira Gitler’s description of Sam as “an all around Jazz virtuoso” is well founded in Sam's fluent choruses here. Barry is up there with him and after his excellent solo, trumpet and piano exchange a series of thoughts in eight-bar measures.

The stately Lover Man is accorded a glistening, expressive performance by Sam’s warm and full-bodied trumpet, strong in all registers. Here is style allied to technique that is subservient to the moving emotional content. Barry charts a glowing passage through passionate waters. Sam makes a spectacular re-entry and toys with some interesting, deceptively static ideas before his splendid coda.

Sam's Entrance! is finely-flighted and melodic. a sequence that keeps throwing up challenges for the soloist, and that is what Noto and Harris. Leroy Vinnegar pulsates and Lenny McBrowne keeps it cooking in the eights. This Entrance! is so good that you are into the foyer before you barely realize it.

Etching Make Believe with precision, Sam allocates the first solo to Barry for a change of pace and Mr Harris conjures some lissome, logical ideas from the keyboard. Sam weaves in and out of the line with an agility that makes me believe he is espousing  a message that few others can convey today. They have either forgotten how or find it too demanding. Noto is a natural player whose ideas flow and resolve, but that level of craftsmanship is not gained easily. It is the result of nearly 30 years familiarity with valves, mouthpieces, fingering, air pressures, the mastery of metal by mouth and digits.

Nostalgia is not at all what that word implies, unless you interpret it as a return to true musical values In any event Sam makes something entirely new of the old and esteemed piece of material, tried but infrequently tested since Fats made it in 1947, with the notable exception of an interpretation by saxophonist Charles McPherson (on a Don Schlitten produced date, right!). Noto alters the routine by playing the first chorus sans piano, although Barry takes a break on the opening theme. Sam's solo is a gem of constructive perfection. It builds in inevitable fashion, just as Navarro's lustrous statements did. Barry is again an enhancer and extender of the mood. Leroy walks one with Harris providing the punctuation marks. The word nostalgia has become corrupted and abused. It is now used disparagingly and carries with it the taint of a sneer. Nostalgia, as played by Sam Noto. will make you want to return to it often, not to feel nostalgic but to taste again the thrill of elation.

(These Are) The Things I Love is a classic pop or a pop classic, now accorded an unmistakable jazz slant. The melody is strong and the piece trickles gently, never rushes. Sam and Barry are gentle but not cloying. Noto inserts some wringing runs into the fabric of the strain - wonderful.

Jen-Jen is bouncy and full of fizz.  It's a sound portrait of and dedication lo Sam's two-year-old daughter   "Jen-Jen is her name and she's a real beaut I might add," Sam observes. To which I can only add that he has captured his little girl's captivating qualities in this piece.   And talking of "beauts," the solos of Sam and Barry are certainly in that category A lovely way lo exit from Entrance! and return pronto to Fats Flats for another journey through the imaginative and spellbinding musical world of Sam Nolo, a trumpet star unveiled. He's out of the wings and right in the spotlight where he belongs and the wings are on his mercurial trumpet.   At 45 Sam has well and truly arrived.”

Notes: Mark Gardner

Recording: Peter Granet

Mixing: Paul Goodman

Produced and Directed by Don Schlitten