"Introducing Wilbur Ware" by Bill Crow

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

“Wilbur Ware is, for me, a reaffirmation of the idea that deep expression can be reached through simplification of form — each new discovery need not always be a more complex one. …

Artistic curiosity will constantly experiment with mechanical complexity, but it is the resolution of such constructions into simple universal terms that is ultimately satisfying. Wilbur's terms are simple, and his artistic expression most profound.”

- Bill Crow, Jazz bassist, author, Editor of “The Band Room” segment of Allegro, Local 802 Newsletter

Either by playing it or by writing about it, Bill Crow has been teaching me about Jazz for as long as I can remember.

At a time when Charles Mingus, Scott LaFaro and Gary Peacock were astonishing everyone with their fast and furious technique on the bass, one of the earliest lessons I learned from Bill was how to appreciate the understated elegance of bassist Wilbur Ware.

I gained this awareness by reading the Introducing Wilbur Ware essay that follows which Bill wrote for The Jazz Review. It first appeared in the Vol. 2 No. 11 December 1959 edition of that magazine.

“Someone told me about Wilbur Ware around 1955 when he was still in Chicago . . . that he was "something else" ancj shouldn't be missed. When he finally came to New York I was pleased to discover that he was not just another good bass player, but an unusually original artist.

After hearing Wilbur several times with Monk, and with his own group at the Bohemia, and upon listening to some of his records, I am convinced that he is one of our truly great jazz musicians. I don't mean that he has invented anything new in the way of lines, forms, or sound, but he has chosen an approach to these elements that does not follow the general evolution of bass style from Blanton through Pettiford, Brown, Heath, Chambers, Mingus, etc.

Wilbur uses the same tools that other bassists use, but his concentration is more on percussion, syncopation and bare harmonic roots than on the achievement of a wind-instrument quality in phrasing and melodic invention. His solos are extremely melodic in their own way, logically developed and well balanced, but they are permutations of the primary triad or reshuffling of the root line rather than melodies built from higher notes in the chord. Musical example 1 (from his own Riverside album 'The Chicago Sound" [Riverside RLP 12-252] the first of two bass choruses on 31st and State) illustrates his approach well. His entrance to the first bar establishes the tonality in no uncertain terms, and his return to the figure in the second bar sets up the pattern of alternating strong, simple melodic phrases with light, broken figures that indicate the chords and excite the rhythm—a sort of self-accompaniment.

In measures 5, 6, 7, 9 and 11 (don't count the first pickup as a measure), Wilbur often deliberately uses what bass players refer to as a "short sound," that is, he uses rests between consecutive notes of a phrase rather than trying for the legato, "long sound" preferred by most jazz bassists. He uses the long sound when it will enhance his line, but isn't at all one-way about it. Since the bass is tuned in fourths, this interval and the neighboring fifth are the easiest to finger anywhere on the instrument, and Wilbur makes use of them more frequently than any others. He does it, however, with such imagination that he has developed it into a formal style within which he functions beautifully. He often uses these intervals as double-stops, moving them however the harmony will allow parallel movement, but never allowing himself to be backed into a corner where the continuation of an idea in double-stops would require an impossible fingering. It's also interesting to notice his use of octaves and open string harmonics, as easily-fingered ways to extend the basic chord into different registers of the instrument without running chords and scales

On Decidedly from the "Mulligan Meets Monk" album (Riverside RLP 12-247) there are a number of good illustrations of Wilbur's approach to the bass line. During the opening choruses he builds them principally of roots, fifths and octaves with very little scale walking. After Gerry's breaks he has the harmonic control, since Monk lays out, but rather than immediately walking chords he plays a counter-rhythm on a G harmonic through the first three changes, where G is the fifth of the first chord, the ninth of the second chord and an anticipation of the root that the third chord resolves toward (D7 to G7). Here the pedal device sets off Gerry's melodic idea beautifully and kicks off the chorus with great strength. On Monk's first chorus of the same tune Wilbur starts with alternating beats of root and fifth that firmly establish the bottom of the chord. At the beginning of the second piano chorus he uses alternating roots and major sevenths (a half step below the root) for the same purpose, then double stopped roots and fifths. His own chorus is walked, first into a rather insecure section of his high register, then abruptly to low open strings and a few double-stopped chromatic fifths. In one spot he shifts from walking on the beat to walking on the upbeat for four bars, and then back again. At the end of his chorus he uses a cycle of fourths for a turn around into the next chorus.

As you see, he manages to develop this solo melodically, rhythmically and harmonically without venturing away from the basic form of four quarter-notes to the measure. On Monk's Straight, No Chaser in the same album, his two choruses of blues include rhythmic figures on one note, double stops, syncopated downbeats, melodic quotes and normal trochaic phrases without losing any of the simplicity, space and cleanness of line that mark his work. He was an ideal bassist for Monk, since he seems to share Monk's conception of the value of open space, repeated figures, cycles of intervals, rhythmic tension and relaxation . . . and at the same time he tends to the business of providing strong roots that give Monk's harmonic conception an added richness.

Besides the variety and color that Wilbur creates in his lines there is the most obvious feature of his playing, a tremendous 4/4 swing that has the same loose, imprecise but very alive feeling of carefree forward motion that you hear in Kenny Clarke's drumming. I can't describe it accurately, but the best image I can think of to suggest it is Cannonball Adderley doing the Lindy. There is flowing movement all through the measure, and not just where the notes are. On the albums listed above Wilbur is teamed with a number of musicians who represent many styles. The role of the bassist is a little different in each case, depending on how much or how little ground the drummers and piano players like to cover. Without altering his basic approach Wilbur manages to adjust perfectly to each situation, relating as well to Dick Johnson on Riverside RLP 12-252 and Zoot Sims on RLP 12-228 as he does to Ernie Henry on RLP 12-248 and Johnny Griffin on RLP 12-264. He is combined with some excellent pianists (Kenny Drew, Monk, Wynton Kelly, Dave McKenna, Junior Mance) and drummers (Philly Joe, Wilbur Campbell, Shadow Wilson, Osie Johnson.)

In the main these albums are good examples of vigorous, swinging rhythm sections, and accurate representation of Wilbur's playing both as accompanist and soloist. Wilbur is, for me, a reaffirmation of the idea that deep expression can be reached through simplification of form — each new discovery need not always be a more complex one. The difference between the extremely sophisticated simplicity of Wilbur Ware and the primitive simplicity of a beginner is as wide as that between simple drawings by Klee or Miro and those of a child.

Artistic curiosity will constantly experiment with mechanical complexity, but it is the resolution of such constructions into simple universal terms that is ultimately satisfying. Wilbur's terms are simple, and his artistic expression most profound.”

The following video features Wilbur’s performance on 31st and State from The Chicago Sound Riverside recording [RLP-12-252; OJCCD-1737-2] on which he performs along with John Jenkins, alto sax, Johnny Griffin, tenor sax, Junior Mance, piano and Wilbur Campbell, drums.