© -Steven
Cerra , copyright protected; all rights reserved.
'You know, there's honest
musicians and there's dishonest musicians. Let me clarify that. An honest
musician plays with his heart and soul and gives his all, all the time. And
then there's the dishonest musician who plays, and gives you his all, but not
all the time. It's like a racehorse. When Art plays, it's all, all the time. I
never heard him lay back at any time, and that, to me, is an honest musician.
And there aren't too many of them in the entire world.’
- Marty Paich, composer-arranger
Life does indeed
move in mysterious fashions?
Are there no such
things as coincidences; is the world really operating as chaos theory; are
there parallel universes that we can side-step into if we only knew how to do
it?
Maybe Rod Sterling
was right and the whole thing is a “Twilight Zone?”
One day I’m
remarking to a friend over coffee how I can’t relate to the late, alto
saxophonist Art Pepper’s music from the closing years of his career. To my
ears, Art’s music moved from being smooth, passionate and melodic to one that
was abrasive and harsh – it became a
cacophony of sounds; no longer music.
Soon thereafter,
I’m having coffee with another friend who is into Jazz and he gives me alto
saxophonist Alan Barnes’ latest CD, The Art Trip: The Music of Art
Pepper [Woodville Records WVCD 137].
How zany is that?
The first friend
urged me to stick with repeated listening of Pepper’s later recordings in order
to “get them,” neither of which I’m able to do.
But thanks to the
other friend’s generosity, I am now able to take solace in the fact that I am
not alone in confronting the quandary posed by Art’s music, then-and-now, so to
speak.
© -Alan
Barnes/Woodville Records, copyright protected; all rights reserved.
Art Pepper first
came into my life when I was around 15, through a double album entitled Art
Pepper - Discoveries, recorded in the early '50s. I'd never heard of him. It
had a painting of a good looking young man with an alto saxophone on the cover
and lots of the titles were named after herbs and spices - Art's Oregano, Thyme
Time, Cinnamon, Nutmeg - it seemed strange and exotic: I thought at the time,
perhaps it was something to do with his being called Pepper
The alto sax
playing sprang out of those LPs. It was so clear, virtuosic and accurate - a
beautiful, fresh, full-of-life sound that danced over the time in a light and
subtle, yet intensely probing way. There was a lonely, yearning quality to his
playing on the ballads that really reached out to the listener. Perhaps the
most beautiful moments came when Jack Montrose joined the ensemble on tenor and
the two front men wove lines around each other. It was just so musical and respectful,
each playing so much like themselves but with great politeness and courtesy to
the other. I'd heard many of the world's greatest saxophonists on records, and
still loved them, but from that moment one this was clear for me, that was how
the alto saxophone should be played.
A handful of years
later I saw Art Pepper at Ronnie Scott's club, playing with his quartet with
Milcho Leviev on piano. The first shock was the different sound of the
saxophone. It was darker and thicker in tone with a new emotional depth to it.
His lines were sometimes shorter, broken and angular - he would find a set of
notes and realy worry them, then break free into long darting phrases that ran
effortlessly through the changes. The beautiful clarity, tuning and stunning
double timing were still there, but when the music reached a certain, almost
frightening, emotional intensity and there seemed nowhere else to go, he would
move right out there - playing free, spitting out distorted notes with furious
passion. The ballads were raw and tender. I've never seen anyone more involved
or determined and it showed what's possible in a jazz performance. He looked
like a man fighting for survival. It was riveting, overwhelming, honest,
disturbing and quite profound.
These two
different periods of the same musician's life were separated by years of drug
and alcohol addiction and lengthy stays in prisons and a drug rehabilitation
centre. However harrowing these experiences, however long he was off the scene,
Art always played superbly well in a series of come-backs throughout his life.
His final re-emergence, beginning in 1977, really gathered momentum, producing
some of the finest playing of his career and gaining him the worldwide
recognition that he had always sought. He continued to perform until he was
stricken with a cerebral hemorrhage and died in June of 1982.
Art's career
stretched from the late '40s with the bands of Stan Kenton and Benny Carter,
through recognition as a 'West Coast Star’ in the '50s and on to triumphs of
his later years.
Unlike many West
Coast jazz musicians, he wasn't a studio player by day - he always remained
resolutely a jazz performer. His life is detailed in his devastatingly honest
biography, Straight Life, published in 1977.
This CD is the
idea of bassist Al Swainger. As well as playing great bass on this session, he
put together the band, booked the studios, picked the tunes and transcribed all
the music. In deciding winch material to focus on, Al chose a selection of
Art's compositions from both the early and later periods and balanced them with
several standards that really showcase the individuality of the man. Making
free use of transcriptions, recordings and the individual personalities of the
assembled players we hope to have achieved a balance between the old and the
new to create something unique for a fresh generation of listeners. It's not an
attempt to sound like Art (who could?), just the four of us enjoying the
playing his great music and enjoying being influenced by his great
musicianship. Craig Milverton on piano has always been a very fine accompanist
and trio pianist. He really shines on this recording and plays some of his
finest work to date. Nick Millward on drums really worked at getting an
individual feel on each track, finding his own way. I think his playing and
approach really makes this album.
Art's compositions
should be part of any jazz study syllabus, the up-tempo numbers are very witty,
articulate and hip, often based on the chord sequences of standards. His
ballads are always beautiful vehicles for expression while his Latin and groove
tunes are timeless and very much bring to mind his home city of Los Angeles
Personally, it's
been a real pleasure to continue studying and playing the music of Art Pepper.
Marty Paich, Art's friend and collaborator on many albums, seemed to sum up the
essence of the man: 'You know, there's honest musicians and there's dishonest
musicians. Let me clarify that. An honest musician plays with his heart and
soul and gives his all, all the time. And then there's the dishonest musician
who plays, and gives you his all, but not all the time. It's like a racehorse.
When Art plays, it's all, all the time. I never heard him lay back at any time,
and that, to me, is an honest musician. And there aren't too many of them in
the entire world"
- Alan Barnes • September 2011
Here’s an
audio-only track from the CD with Alan and the group performing one of Art’s
tunes from earlier in his career entitled Chili
Pepper which is based on the chord changes to Tea for Two.
