Tubby Hayes and Tin Tin Deo

© -Steven Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

While the editorial staff prepares a more detailed feature on Tubbs and his music, we thought we’d revisit “how it all began” by using his performance of Tin Tin Deo as the soundtrack to the following video montage which salutes some of England’s earlier Jazz record companies.

Recorded in London in December, 1959 and subsequently issued on CD by Jasmine records as Tubby Hayes – “The Eight Wonder” [JASCD 611], the idea, according to Tony Hall who produced the date, “was to use pianist Terry Shannon, bassist Jeff Clyne and drummer Phil Seamen in their primary role as an accompanying rhythm section thus allowing Tubby to stretch out and just blow with no restrictions whatever on the time.”

Richard Cook and Brian Morton had this to say about Tubby’s efforts on “The Eight Wonder” [JASCD 611], in the Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD, 6^th Ed.:

“The Eight Wonder gets top rating [4 stars]… it is perhaps Hayes’ most eloquent showcase. It’s true that the virtuosity of Tin Tin Deo comes out of his horn all too easily; almost as if it were a routine that he’d mastered without thinking, but it’s hard not to enjoy the spectacle of … the tough-minded improvising.”

Hayes recorded prolifically, but the quality of these recordings are uneven at best.

Cook and Morton perhaps offer an explanation for this paradox when they observe:

“Tubby Hayes has often been lionized as the greatest saxophonist Britain ever produced. He is a fascinating but problematical player.

Having put together a big, rumbustious tone and a deliv­ery that features sixteenth notes spilling impetuously out of the horn, Hayes often left a solo full of brilliant loose ends and ingen­ious runs that led nowhere in particular.

Most of his recordings, while highly entertaining as exhibitions of sustained energy, tend to wobble on the axis of Hayes's creative impasse: having got this facility together, he never seemed sure of what to do with it in the studio, which may be why his studio records ultimately fall short of the masterpiece he never came to make.”

While I agree in the main with Cook and Morton’s assessment of Tubby’s frequently unrealized potential due to what they describe as his “creative impasse,” there are no road blocks or detours ahead in the solo he lays down on Tin Tin Deo.

See what you think.

[Incidentally, for those of you interested in such things, Tin Tin Deo is in the minor with a Latin Jazz feel to all but the bridge. It is of an unusual construction – 48 bars in length comprising two 16 bar sections, a middle 8 in 4/4 time and a final 8 which reverts to the second 8 measures of the 16 bar sections.]

Goldberg’s Variation

© -Steven Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

“The Goldberg  Variations utilize the Sarabande from Anna Magdalena Bach's

notebook as a passacaille—that is, only its bass progression is duplicated in the varia­tions, where indeed it is treated with suf­ficient rhythmic flexibility to meet the harmonic contingencies of such diverse contrapuntal structures as a canon upon every degree of the diatonic scale, two fughettas, and even a quodlibet (the super­position of street-songs popular in Bach's times).

Such alterations as are necessary do not in any way impair the gravitational compulsion which this masterfully propor­tioned ground exerts upon the wealth of melodic figurations which subsequently adorn it. Indeed, this noble bass binds each variation with the inexorable assurance of its own inevitability.”[Emphasis, mine]

- Glenn Gould, concert pianist

At the conclusion of this piece, I have re-posted a video retrospective of the artwork of Clifton Karhu because I wanted to dwell a bit more on the technical virtuosity of the music that accompanies it as played by the Joris Roelofs Quartet.  [Karhu - 1927-2007 - lived and worked in Japan for many years and drew his inspiration from the traditional Japanese woodblock print masters of the 19^th century.]

The musicianship on this recording is of such a high quality that it does justice to the roots in modern Jazz from which it draws its influence – the “school” of Jazz founded by pianist-composer Lennie Tristano and his main collaborators, alto saxophonist Lee Konitz and tenor saxophonist, Warne Marsh.

The super cool, deeply harmonically and very intellectual style of Jazz that Lennie, Lee and Warne played did not find very many, subsequent devotees, although contemporaneous musicians like pianist Alan Broadbent and alto saxophonist and flutist Gary Foster could be said to be somewhat reflective of its tenets.

I hope to have more to say about Alan and Gary’s collaborations in a future profile about Gary.

This JazzProfile derives it’s title from The Goldberg Variations, “one of the monuments of keyboard literature” which was published in 1742 while Johann Sebastian Bach [1685-1750] held the title of Polish Royal and Saxon electoral court-composer.

Glenn Gould’s 1955 Columbia Masterpiece Performances [MYK-38479] recording of The Goldberg Variations never fails to leave me shaking my head in amazement at the grandeur and scope of Bach’s conception and Gould’s pianistic talent in accomplishing it.

But although the music on the audio track to the Karhu video tribute may be said to be representative of both the Tristano school of Jazz and J. S. Bach’s Goldberg Variations, particularly in its use of bass clef figures played by the piano and the bass [see above quotation by Glenn Gould], it is very much its own music.

And what music it is – commanding, lively and full of energy.

The tune is entitled The Rules and was composed by New York-based pianist Aaron Goldberg. It forms part of the music on the Introducing the Joris Roloefs Quintet  CD [Materials Records MRE-023-2].

Joris, a rising young star on the European Jazz scene, came to New York to record this album along with Aaron, bassist Matt Penman and drummer Ari Hoenig.

The Rules is based on a tonal center which is interlaced throughout its performance by the use of a six-note phrase that Aaron carries, primarily, with his left-hand, and, at times, in unison with bassist Penman to bring added emphasis.

The constant repetition makes the phrase very insistent but all of the soloists do a masterful job of bobbing and weaving in and around it without ever being overcome by it.

The sustained intensity that the group maintains really consumes the listener; one keeps expecting it to breakout at some point, but it never does.

In the absence of any means to record them, some experts maintain that J.S. Bach’s Goldberg Variations are really Bach’s improvisations put to pen and ink.

While listening to Aaron’s recorded solo on The Tunes, I began wondering what future pianists might make of his improvisations if they, too, were to be “notated” for posterity?

Obviously these notations would not be as complex as the knuckle-busters Bach composed, and yet, in their own way, perhaps just as challenging and interesting.

There are three solos on The Rules, but the solo order is unusual: piano, then drums [!] with the lead instrument, Joris’ alto sax, soloing last before the group returns to the theme to close out the piece.

Each is a long improvisation that makes great use of space. There are no chord progressions to be run or melodic frameworks to navigate or modal scales to set a course through. The music literally has to be created from the ground up from a very limited foundation. Such are The Rules to The Rules.

But make no mistake. This is not “Free Jazz” with the worst connotations that references to that 1960’s style can arouse. And it is not an exercise in sterile intellectualism. The music is formed in the minds of the musicians using the repetitive six-note phrase as a point of departure.

This is some of the most powerful and emotional Jazz you’ve ever experienced.

Ari Hoenig’s solo reminds me of drummer Shelly Manne’s axiom that “the hands should not rule the way you play the instrument.” He meant by this that the drummer should play music first and not show off technique. Of course, Shelly had both, and so does Ari, who plays one heck of a drum solo on this performance.

The Rules ends in an explosion of sound and with what musicians refer to as a “surprise ending.”

As Jazz moves forward in the 21^st Century, players such as Aaron, Joris, Matt and Ari will not only add their brilliant improvisational ideas to its legacy, but also bring to it, an enormous quantity of technical skills which with to execute them.

The Jazz Gods must be smiling.

I certainly am.

Henry Mancini – “Making Yourself As You Go”

© -  Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

“If modern jazz becomes indelibly linked with manslaughter, murder, mayhem, wise­cracking private eyes and droll policemen, the brunt of the responsibility must be borne by composer Henry Mancini. Be­cause of him the point is rapidly being reached where no self-respecting killer would consider pulling the trigger without a suitable jazz background.

Seriously, Henry Mancini has become a pacesetter. Immediately after the first episode of the TV series "Peter Gunn," Mancini's modern jazz background score became a topic of general conversation. The Music from Peter Gunn, his first RCA Victor album (LPM/LSP-1956), rocketed into the nation's number one best-selling spot with the muzzle velocity of a police positive. Various recordings of the main theme music became top single records.

With all this excitement, it was inevitable that others should follow Mancini's lead. TV detectives now swash, buckle and make love to the strains of modern jazz.”

- Bill Olofson, liner notes to More Music From Peter Gunn [RCA LPM-2040]

Had it not been for a chance meeting with producer-director Blake Edwards, I daresay that Henry Mancini may not have had the opportunity to fulfill his lifelong dream of writing music for the movies.

There was no television when the dream first took shape in Henry’s mind after his father took him to see Cecil B. DeMille’s movie version of The Crusades.

The year was 1935. Henry was eleven-years old.

In the 23-years between that fateful day at the Lowe’s Penn Theater in Pittsburg, PA  and bumping into Blake as he was coming out of the Universal Studios barber shop in North Hollywood, CA, Henry Mancini had become a masterful composer-arranger. He did so with a minimum of formal education; essentially by learning through doing.

As the late, writer Ray Bradbury once put it: “You make yourself as you go.”

After serving as a rifleman in World War II,  Mancini married and, at his wife Ginny’s suggestion, he relocated to southern California to pursue his dream.  Once there, he landed a job in the music department at Universal Pictures.

Henry did every job imaginable at Universal’s music room from copying scores to writing incidental music to even writing scores for forgettable-at-the-time-later-to-become-cult-classic-“B”-films like The Creature from the Black Lagoon.

Henry, too, might have been forgotten if he hadn’t been for the advent of television as a popular form of entertainment in the 1950s.

And, a rendezvous with obscurity might have loomed even larger for Henry had he not run into Blake Edwards, an old acquaintance, that fateful day in 1958 on the Universal back lot.

What’s the old adage: “I’d rather be lucky than good[?]”

Henry Mancini was a couple of years younger than Blake at the time of there chance meeting [36 and 38, respectively].

The studio system that maintained staff orchestras and staff composer-arrangers was coming to an end and Mancini has just lost his job. He had a wife and three children to support.

As they were parting company, Blake asked Henry if he would be interested in doing a TV show with him.

“Sure,” said Mancini, “what’s the name of it?”

Edwards said “It’s called Peter Gunn.”

Mancini asked: “What is it, a Western?”

Edwards, replied: “You’ll see.”

The rest is history.

Starring Craig Stevens as the stylish private-eye, Peter Gunn was to become one of the most successful series in that genre.

Thanks to Mancini’s genius, it would also lead to major changes in how music was written for television and the movies.

For Peter Gunn, Henry Mancini wrote the first full score in television history.

Both Blake Edwards and Henry Mancini went on to have illustrious television and movie careers that resulted in fame and fortune, distinction and awards, and the comforts of a satisfying and stylish life.

But for me,  the epitome Henry Mancini’s composing and arranging always began and ended with his exciting and energetic work on the music for Peter Gunn.

The Jazz pulse with which he infused the music for that TV series has influenced and informed my Jazz consciousness for over fifty years.

One of my great treats in life is to return to this music and savor its timeless brilliance.

Much of the music that Mancini wrote for Peter Gunn features small group Jazz, but Blue Steel, which is from the second album – More Music for Peter Gunn – is composed for a full big band, one that certainly roars on this track.

Led by a trumpet section of Conrad Gozzo [lead], Pete Candoli [soloist], Frank Beach and Graham Young – can you imagine?! – and an orchestra that also includes five trombones, four French Horns, four woodwinds and four rhythm, Blue Steel is a veritable explosion in sound.

Hank’s music always seems to bubble with enthusiasm and humor; its bright, bouncy and bops along.

Blue Steel is only 3:39 minutes in length and yet it is brimming over with compositional devices – vamps, interludes and riffs that launch the soloists; half-step modulations and dynamics that are constantly building in the background until Hank rushes the band effervescently to the foreground; glissandos that probe and punctuate the arrangement; a throbbing walking bass that starts and stops to heighten suspense; vibes-guitar-piano playing mice-running-along-the-piano-keys figures to create a furtive sonority; flute “choirs” interspersed with vibes and then with a piano solo; a trumpet solo that soars over bass trombone pedal tones and ascending, and then, descending French Horns [see if you can catch Pete Candoli’s reference to Your Getting to Be a Habit With Me in his solo].

And just when you think the band is going to explode, Hank brings in a fanfare played by the orchestra in unison with Conrad Gozzo screaming out three, high note blasts to close the piece with a rush of orchestral adrenalin.

This is the music of a master orchestrator at work. Few arrangers have ever called upon a greater palette of colors in their arrangements. Mancini music always seem to have a mysterious gift of melody to it which provides him with a strong, inner core to build his scores upon.