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Brown: Tape 5 of the Louie Bellson interview.
Brown: Continuing with the Louie Bellson oral history interview at his house in San Jose. This is tape 5, Louie Bellson being interviewed by Anthony Brown and Ken Kimery.
We were talking about arranging. You were expounding on writing for big bands, but you also wrote for strings as well. Can you talk about what challenges are posed by that and your approaches to writing for strings?
Bellson: When I met Buddy Baker, the first thing he told me, he says, “If you want to write about strings, you’ve got to remember one thing: strings don’t swing.” You can’t write notes for them like you would for saxophones, because they’re not going to play it with that feel. Even if you give them like a dotted-eighth followed by a sixteenth-note [Bellson sings a swing rhythm], they’re going to play it [Bellson sing a straight rhythm]. And if you give it to them like a triplet with a rest in between, that kind of rolling triplet feel, they’re still not going to play it right. They just don’t swing. So I learned to give them half notes, quarter notes, whole notes, especially on ballads and things. But when they have to play a series of eighth notes, they’re going to play them exactly the way it’s written, whereas swing players interpret it with a bounce feel. So I was very cautious. In other words, if I had to play something like [Bellson sings the melody of Undecided] or give that to the saxophones or trumpets. But the strings, they would play it [Bellson sings Undecided with a straight rhythm rather than a swing rhythm]. Like Clark Terry said, “No ta-ta. Boo-ya.” We were doing a clinic together, Clark Terry and I – by the way, he’s one of the greatest clinicians ever, besides being one of the greatest trumpet players ever. So the high school kids were playing In the Mood. They were playing it [Bellson sings the melody in a straight rhythm]. Clark looked at me and says, “What do you say, Lou?” I said, “You got it.” He said, “No ta-ta. Boo-ya,” and he played it for them on the horn. That made a world of difference. The kids grasped that feel right away. But writing for strings, you’ve got to be very careful, especially if you’re using strings in a context with a big band, like Artie Shaw had a big band with strings for a while. He made sure that the strings – the writing for the strings – would not conflict with that side of the band. Give them some things that they can play. So I learned fast. I learned that from Buddy Baker.
Brown: Were there any other people who influenced the way you write for strings?
Bellson: Yeah, there was a gentleman by the name of – what’s the? – the governor in London [Robert Farnon]. He just passed away. He wrote arrangements for Tony Bennett.
Brown: In London?
Bellson: Yeah. I’ll think of it as we go along.
Brown: We were talking about arranging. Then while we had the tape change, we talked about some of your other pursuits as well: publishing, for one thing. You pulled out a recent publication entitled Their Time was the Greatest. It’s a collection of your – “Louie Bellson honors 12 super-drummers.” Can you talk about this project and why you selected these particular gentlemen to represent the art form of drumming? What were your criteria for selecting them?
Bellson: This idea came to me years ago, to be able to give the students a chance to play with a band. If they don’t otherwise have the luxury of having a band right there, then this would serve as something that they would have. It’s got the charts written in there. Like for instance, Hallelujah was a thing that Buddy Rich played. So I talked about the arrangement. On the CD, my playing is muffled almost completely. It gives the drummer a chance to play along with the band. The chart is in there. I’ve got Buddy Rich, Hallelujah. Liza, by Chick Webb. Remember that one?
Brown: Oh yeah. Definitely. Here’s also someone who played with brushes. I was listening to a live recording of Brownsville Stomp - I think it’s the title – and he was playing Liza, and it was with brushes. He’s driving a whole big band. We talked about this yesterday. I had never heard that before. Unbelievable.
Bellson: This has worked out real good, because it gives the drummer a chance to look at a chart and play it – put the headset on and play it with the band. They muffle my part way down, but not completely out. The drummer can play the chart and hear me a little bit, enough to realize what I did, how I followed the chart.
Brown: You play in the style of each one of these different drummers?
Bellson: Yeah.
Brown: You’ve got Dennis Chambers and Steve Gadd in there as well?
Bellson: Right, Dennis Chambers. We’ve got Steve Gadd, Buddy Rich, Chick Webb, Big Sid Catlett, Jo Jones, Max Roach, Tony Williams.
Brown: We didn’t talk about Tony Williams yesterday. You were talking all the – a lot of drummers, but Tony Williams’s name didn’t come up. Do you want to talk about Tony now and why you included him?
Bellson: Yeah. The guy was a natural player, original. The last time I saw him, he said, “I’m getting two bass drums.” I said, “Don’t do it. You don’t need it.” He was – like Elvin Jones, he added something new to the drum set. He had another voice going. Tremendous.
Brown: How would you describe what was distinctive about his style or his approach, Tony Williams?
Bellson: Avant-garde to the point where he realized what free form was, because the word “form” was still there. He could still swing hard. He could do it all. But his approach, his sound – his sound was different than anyone else’s, too. Elvin was the same way. You could tell by listening to him – probably you could tell that sound. We talked about an 18-inch bass drum. He made it sound like a 26-inch bass drum. I went to hear him play once. He played – he had a brush in his right hand. He went to hit a ff with a cymbal with a brush and a bass drum. It sounded like a cannon going off. He had more strength – you ever shake hands with him? You could hear the bones cracking. Great story about Elvin Jones, Buddy Rich, and myself. I was in London with Oscar Peterson. Buddy was there with his big band. Buddy Rich called me and said, “Elvin’s down playing at Ronnie Scott’s. Let’s go catch him tonight.” “Okay.” So we went down. Elvin’s drums were where you are sitting, and Buddy and I were sitting right here – that close. Buddy kept saying, “How’s he get a sound out of that little bass drum? To me, I can’t reason that out.” Anyway, Elvin played the set. He was sweating like mad. After the set was over, Buddy said, “Let’s go back and pay our respects.” So we went back to the dressing room. Elvin picked up Buddy and hugged him. When he set him down, all the sweat that was on Elvin went on Buddy Rich’s suede jacket. Buddy said he couldn’t clean the suede jacket any more. He had to put it up. It belongs to Elvin Jones. It was funny though.
Brown: Buddy would sweat a lot too. I’ve seen Buddy many times. He really – the sweat was pouring out of him as well.
Bellson: There was enough, like somebody’s poured a pail of water on him, and all of that went on Buddy’s suede jacket. That was funny. Tony Williams created something. Watching and listening to him play reminded me of a quote that four bandleaders told me to tell students. Basie used to say, “Tell your students to listen. Learn how to listen.” Harry James – or Duke used to say, “Make sure that they find some identification.” In other words, when you hear them play, you know that that’s Sonny Greer, that’s Jo Jones, that’s Shelly Manne, that’s Buddy Rich. Develop your own style, your own sound. Duke said, “Make them invent their own being.” That’s what he used to say. Harry James used to say, “Make sure that they have their own sound.” And somebody else – let’s see. Who else? It wasn’t Lionel. It was Cab Calloway. He used to tell me, “Tell them to find the groove and stay with it,” which I thought was interesting. But Basie’s was just one word: tell them to listen. That says it all. In reference to – I made that point for some reason. What was I talking about before?
Brown: What was distinctive about Tony Williams and Elvin Jones?
Bellson: Yeah, Tony.
Brown: We talked about Tony first.
Bellson: In Tony Williams I found he listens. He knows how to establish a groove. Definitely knows how to do that. And he had his own approach to playing cymbals and the sound of the drums. Those two guys were able to say that their invention of the drum set was something really important.
Brown: We’re all drummers in this room, and when we look back at what happened in the ’60s, the development of jazz is pretty much shaped by what Tony Williams and Elvin Jones did at that time.
Bellson: That’s right.
Brown: You have other drummers on there as well. You have Shelly Manne. How would you – what would you say is distinctive about Shelly’s styling?
So what was distinctive about Shelly and you mentioned, Steve Gadd, too?
Bellson: Shelly was a very – played with a lot of taste. He was never a so-called big-band drummer. He could do it, but he favored playing in small groups. Great with brushes. With the sticks he had a nice touch. Never got in the way. Musical. He was a musical player. Steve Gadd was – I just heard him play last week. That young man can do anything. He can play in any groove. He goes on the road with James Taylor, and it’s a certain way of playing. Got his own group, Gadd Gang. Plays in it, bebop style. He can play with rockand-roll guys. He can do it all. Gets a great touch. He’s done his homework. He knows the instrument. He’s somebody that is really thorough.
Brown: As we were discussing yesterday, he also was a tap-dancer. You talked about being a Mouseketeer.
Bellson: Right. He was a Mouseketeer. He doesn’t want to be reminded of that, but he was. Mickey Mouse and him are a distance away, but he was a Mouseketeer. There’s a video out called Time Grooves that Harold Farberman put out. The drummers are Steve Gadd, Alex Acuña, Harvey Mason, Vic Firth playing tympani, and David Friedman playing xylophone, and myself. Steve and I do a time-step, and I do a sand on that Time Grooves. Did you know about that one?
Brown: The sand-step?
Bellson: No. Did you know about that video?
Brown: No. I don’t know about that video.
Brown: We’ll definitely look for it. Actually, when we leave here, we’re going to a record store and get that James Brown. So we’ll look for this one too. You also have Dennis Chambers. He seems to be the youngest of the . . .
Bellson: There’s another guy that’s a fabulous player. When I first heard him, I thought to myself, wow, cyclone is here. Fabulous drummer. Technique coming out of his ears, but yet a good player with a band. One of my earliest experiences with him, I was in Europe. I was having dinner with – Benny Carter, I think it was. Lo and behold, here comes a car. Dennis Chambers. He yelled out to me. He says, “I’ve got to see you. I need to see you.” I said, “Okay. I’m staying here at this hotel.” He drove on by. I got a phone call from him the next day. He said, “What are you doing this afternoon?” “Nothing. Come on over.” I said, “What’s your problem?” He says, “I don’t know how to read.” I said, “You don’t need to learn how to read. The way you play, you don’t need to. I’m glad you don’t read.” He said, “No. Seriously. I want to learn how to read.” I had some books with me. I took him right from the beginning. What’s a whole note? What’s a half note? What’s a quarter note? What’s an eighth note, sixteenth note? What’s a tie? Here’s a pattern of half notes, quarter notes, and eighth notes. I’ll play it for you. Watch out for – I went through a whole book with him in two and a half hours. He learned the entire book in that time. That’s how quick he was. So I told him – I said, “See. It’s not hard to learn how to read.” You don’t say the word “hard.” Drummers don’t talk about hard. We talk about having to get something and go practice it and do it. Hard becomes something that stays in your head, and it’s hard for you to get rid of that word. I gathered that from my father. I never tell my students this is hard. If it’s something that’s demanding, I say, “Here’s a nice piece of music. Take it home, learn it, and have fun with it.” That takes all the hardness away from it. It makes it simple.
Brown: You’re touching on one of the most valuable contributions you’ve made to the art of drumming, and that is as an educator through all the experience and the wisdom that you’ve brought to the art-form. We’re now talking about your publications. I want to go back to the very beginning. You have here, for the record – it says Bellson Music Company from Moline, Illinois. It’s a picture of you on a drum set, and inside you have some exercises. When I brought out this book yesterday – Modern Reading Texts in 4/4, published by Bellwin Mills, authored by yourself – Louie Bellson – and Gil Brines – is that correct, Brines or Breenes?
Bellson: Gil Bri-nes [pronounced as a two-syllable surname and with a soft “i”].
Brown: Brines. Okay. When I brought this out, you said, “These were exercises I was working with way back when I was either a teen or a youngster.”
Bellson: That’s right.
Brown: So let’s talk about what motivated you to get into writing books and exercises and things, and did you do that for yourself initially?
Bellson: When I was working for my dad in the music store, I noticed that there wasn’t too much material in those days for drums. It was always, here’s how you hold the left hand, the right hand. They didn’t even talk about matched grip then. It was all conventional grip. So I decided to write some exercises that would help drummers – not only drummers, but brass instrument players and reed players, because rhythm is part of their lives too. So I wrote 400 pages on 4/4 only, 400 pages on 3/4 only, 400 pages on 2/4. Then I got into complex odd times. The reason Gil Birnes name is on there is he condensed those down to maybe a hundred pages each book, or less than that? I don’t know how many pages are in the book.
Brown: A little less than a hundred: 91 in this one. That’s Modern Reading Texts. And then the Odd Time Reading Texts, there are – it seems like a few more. Yeah. There’s about 129, 130 pages here.
Bellson: He didn’t disturb my writing at all. All he did was just said, “Lou, pick out 100 pages.” I said, “You put that together.” But it’s for all instruments. In fact the first guy that can buy that book in 4/4 was [William] Vacchiano, the lead trumpet player with the New York Philharmonic. When I heard that, I said wow, because it was rhythm, ba-dop ba da-dop ba da-dop ba da-dop ba da-dop. That could be played by saxophones, trumpets, trombones. So that book – I still work on that book myself.
Brown: This was the first book that I was given by my first teacher, Ron Falter, who studied with you. What was interesting about this was that it’s not a book per se about drum technique. It’s about reading, developing the very thing that you were able to impart to Dennis Chambers. So I think that that’s why it’s so universal in its application. You get trumpet players playing it, drummers. Of course drummers are the ones who are saddled with reading probably the most complicated rhythms, but it’s really to develop your reading skills rather than your drumming skills. It’s developed rhythmic acuity. So that’s a whole different focus that you’re bringing to the study of this art form. You’re broadening – again, a much broader palette than just focusing on drum technique. You’re looking at the whole concept of rhythm and how to have people become more proficient at that.
Bellson: That’s right. I used to tell my students, actually learn everything in this book – exercise – now, let’s permutate. Play with the right hand the rhythm, and keep the bass drum going on all four beats, or keep the bass drum going on 1 and 2. That’s adding the drum set. Or play the left hand the rhythm and then the bass drum. So there’s different ways of enlarging that, playing it. It was very successful for all instruments. Originally, Benny Goodman, he used to say, “Brass and rhythm section, don’t pull out a magazine on me. Sit up and listen. I don’t need you now, but listen to me. Five saxophone players start at letter A. Here we go. No rhythm. Just five saxophone players.” He had them playing impeccable time. They didn’t need a bass player, a drummer. Alone. Now he says, “Saxophones, take a break. Brass – trumpets and trombones – same thing. Letter A.” He had them swinging. Because Benny Goodman thought – in the days that he was younger, kids used to say, “Something’s screwed up. The drummer slowed down.” The drummer’s say, “I didn’t slow down. The band slowed down.” All the pressure was on the drummer. It’s not the drummer’s fault, because the trombone player maybe was playing da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-dat [at a steady tempo] da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da [slowing down]. He’s slowed down already. So he rules the band. Then he put the brass with the reeds. They didn’t need a rhythm section. They were swinging. By the time he put the whole thing together, you can’t get any better than that.
Brown: So that’s the way Benny Goodman rehearsed the band.
Bellson: That’s the way Benny Goodman rehearsed the band. Yeah. It made a lot of sense, because everybody has to learn how to play in time. It used to drive him crazy to see one guy, one saxophone player playing this tempo and his foot’s going like this. Benny says, “What are you doing? Get rid of that rhythm down there. If you’re going to tap your foot, tap it in time.” But that’s true. Did you ever notice that?
Kimery: Also being in the drum chair itself, the interpretation of time between the sax section and the trumpet section was a totally different zone there, and you have to somehow hold them together and make sense of where the time is. It can be just really – for the drummer and the rhythm section – really pulling air, trying to get them to play together. It’s wonderful to have a band that plays together. You don’t have that challenge there.
Bellson: That’s right. Benny’s band could always swing. Everybody played in time.
Brown: Yesterday you made the statement about bands that you considered swing bands. You mentioned Duke and Count Basie, of course. Then you mentioned – this is when you were talking about your experience with Goodman – you mentioned him. Later on, you said Charlie Barnet as well. But you did say Glenn Miller was not a swing band. Why did you exclude him from that category?
Bellson: Benny said – first of all, that Glenn’s was the most successful band as far as making money was concerned. It was a good band. No question about it. They played well. They played dance music, a certain kind of dance music that’s just vanilla. It was okay, but it wasn’t a swing band like Ellington or Basie, where you got in some grooves. It wasn’t designed that way. They played beautiful ballads. But it wasn’t a swing band. Swing bands were Duke, Basie, Lionel Hampton, Cab Calloway, Jimmie Lunceford. These were the bands that really – Charlie Barnet and Benny Goodman were the white bands, so to speak. Charlie Barnet was a disciple of Duke too. He loved Duke. But they got in the groove. They knew what that groove was. It’s like talking about piano players. When Art Tatum and Oscar Peterson play, they found the groove. They did everything. The technique and the groove and the whole bit was there. As opposed to maybe somebody like Carmen Cavallaro – a great piano player, more in a concert style, but not swinging.
Brown: How about Artie Shaw’s band?
Bellson: Artie Shaw, yeah. Artie Shaw was a good swing band too. You’d include him in that.
Brown: How about Stan Kenton?
Bellson: Stan Kenton, to me, was – I don’t know how to classify him. He always had a good band. But to me, Stan Kenton’s band – the trumpet players like Buddy Childers, developed hernia at an early age from playing all those high notes. Shelly Manne used to come home rubbing his hands like a boxer, because he had to roll on a big cymbal as loud as he could, and that wasn’t loud enough. He had to play way over fortissimo. It was a good band, but I wouldn’t say it was – it started to swing when Bill Holman started writing for the band and they had Mel Lewis on drums and Conte Candoli and Frank Rosolino. That’s when it started to swing, because Bill Holman’s writing developed another way for Stan. That band, I would say it would be a swing band. The other arrangements they did before that were good, but they weren’t classified as swing – good concert pieces.
Brown: We were talking about your career as an author and working in the field of the education of music. I have a book that I don’t know if you were familiar with. I found these probably about 20 years ago in a used book store. It’s called, by Gene Krupa. Are you familiar with either – with this book?
Bellson: Yes I am. Gene was another example of a guy that didn’t read too much. I didn’t know that. I thought he was well schooled, even though he studied something with Roy Knapp, but he had problems with reading too. In fact we made a video and a book called The Mighty Two. You know about that one? It’s Gene Krupa and myself. I went up to his house in Yonkers and spent a week with him. We did all the rudiments to swing time. The band was – Ron Carter was the bass player. Barry Harris was the piano player. Phil Wood was the alto player. Jimmy Cleveland, the trombone player. All those all stars. I wrote the arrangements for all of the 26 rudiments to swing time, and I taught it to Gene up at his house. I don’t think he wrote The Science of Drumming, book 1 and 2 all by himself. I think [?], the guy that wrote the . . .
Brown: Sam Rowland? Edited by Sam Rowland, maybe? No?
Bellson: There’s another book that Gene got his name on, that someone – The Rudimental Art – put it together for him. But I guess Gene looked at this in the final analysis. But he grabbed hold of it. All you had to do was show him once and he had it.
Brown: Also Buddy had problems reading too.
Bellson: Yeah.
Brown: I don’t think he read music. It must have been pretty much the case back in those days. Most drummers didn’t read. Of course I think Cozy Cole was another sterling example like yourself, who probably was a well-rounded musician. I know that Gene and Cozy Cole had hooked up and a drum school together.
Bellson: Cozy could read good. Buddy and Gene weren’t too good at reading. They could read some simple things, but I don’t think Buddy could read at all. In talking to Buddy throughout the years, I used to try to get him to – because he used to go by a piano and do two-fingered piano, just playing. I said, “Have you ever thought of writing music?” He said, “Yeah, but I don’t know who to go to.” He said, “You’re busy. You’re on the road all the time.” I said, “Yeah.” I said, “You fool around with the vibes. I think you always wanted to do that.” But he never gave himself a chance to learn it. He would have been good at it, because as great a player as he was, he would know what to do with vibes and piano. Chick Webb didn’t read, but yet he could hear an arrangement and sing all the notes for you. If he ever decided to get into tympani and mallets, he’d go upwards so fast it would be ridiculous. Big Sid Catlett could read a little bit. Jo Jones could read a little bit. But most of those players were just great God-given talent.
Brown: I know the Ellington band – Ellington used to keep people like Bubber Miley and other folks who were not readers – basically, ear players – in the band. When you were in the band in the ’50s, were there – I guess reading was a prerequisite to being in that band? I guess Sonny must have read, but I don’t know. You say there were no charts, so I guess it wasn’t necessary.
Bellson: Yeah, they were good readers. They had problems – personal problems – reading somebody else’s score. Maybe it might have too many notes in it. But they played Duke’s music well. But they were good readers, because they did an album with Rosemary Clooney. They did one with Tony Bennett. They were all reading.
Brown: Speaking about Duke, let’s go back to the ’60s, just to change up on the subject, but we’ll return again talking about your other activities and other drummers. I believe you’re on that recording with Duke. You did several projects with Duke. I know the Sacred Concert in ’65 at Grace Cathedral. I believe that that was another high point. Were you also on the recording when Duke did the Boston Pops and he brought in a trio? Were you on that one as well?
Bellson: Yeah. I did Tanglewood with him. Right.
Brown: How was that experience?
Bellson: The only – he just used the bass player John Lamb and myself. That was – I had a lot of respect for . . .
Brown: Arthur Fiedler?
Bellson: Arthur Fiedler, because he got John Lamb and I together in a room and said, “I’m not going to conduct my lousy 4/4 with my hand. You guys know the tempos. I’m going to follow you.” That was good to hear, because I played in a couple of symphonies and the symphony conductor was rigid to the point where there were zero. They didn’t listen to the drums or the piano or the bass or the guitar. They went on ahead with their hands. They’re all out of time, and stiff. Fiedler made a motion, but he followed us. I gave him a lot of respect for that. That was wonderful.
Brown: How about the Sacred Concert where you were brought back to . . .?
Bellson: The first Sacred Concert was [at] Grace Cathedral in San Francisco. I knew that cathedral. It was all stone. So in my mind I’m saying, boy, if I hit a rim shot in that room, I could go out and have dinner, come back, and it’s still in the room. So I talked to Duke about that. Duke said, “Yeah. You know, I played with my band for years. We would learn to play for what kind of room we’re in. If we’re playing in a room where there was a lot of glass, then we pointed horns away from the glass and pointed – find the spot.” Snooky Young could do that. He found a spot where he could be better with his sound. Duke said, “What you’re going to have to do is listen to your playing. Also, you know that my music is based on the first three words of the Bible, ‘in the beginning.’ In the beginning we had lightning and thunder. That’s you, Lou.” “I’m no longer a drum solo in a church.” That’s what I thought first. I thought, in those days, if I was playing a drum solo in a church – if you’re a gospel band, that’s different. So Duke says, “Let me digest that.” He says, “Lightning and thunder now.” I don’t know if you heard that first Grace Cathedral concert. There’s a long drum solo in there in the beginning. I kept that in mind. I made my phrases like I was lightning and thunder. Duke could do that. He could climb into your body and make you kick. If you joined the band, he’d find out what you can do, the best things you can do, and he’d write for you. That’s why he could learn to write for Lawrence Brown, learn to write for Johnny Hodges, Harry Carney, Paul Gonsalves, Russell Procope. He knew what to do.
Brown: For Duke, this is one of the works that he reflected on in his autobiography. He referred to his Sacred Concert as the most important music to him. Did he talk a lot about the music before he actually performed it? How did the piece – how was the piece developed for performance?
Bellson: I think Duke had already started years ago. For example, he took one – he was famous for taking one tune and making it – Harry Carney played the melody. Then a year later, he’d write another arrangement, the same tune, but without Harry Carney. Just have Ray Nance do it. Same tune. In other words, he’s able to get more mileage out of one tune than anybody I ever knew. So what he did with Come Sunday, for example, with the beautiful ballad. He used that for David Danced for Bunny Briggs, where the rhythm section’s playing double-time [Bellson sings this melody while tapping a double-time tempo as accompaniment]. That was an example of what he did with – he wrote that a long time ago. He’d been gathering material off and on for a long time. He finally put the pieces together and made his sacred music.
Brown: That was a pretty gigantic production. He had the chorus. He had the singers, the band. Who was – was Duke really the mastermind, and was he the grand orchestrator for the production, or were there other people there as well to help with the choir?
Bellson: I think he – the only one he confided in was Strayhorn, because he knew Strayhorn was going to be exactly like what he’s thinking too. So when they did His Mother Called Him Billy, Duke had a hand in that too, but he gave all the credit to Strayhorn. I think Duke masterminded the whole thing. He was the perfect conductor too, because he let them know what was coming next by the way he was playing on the piano, and he was great with the tempos. One thing – when the Black, Brown and Beige CD came out, we had problems with it. I recommended three people. I recommended Clark Terry, because he was in the original. I recommended Joe Williams to sing the blues part. You couldn’t get anybody better than that. And I recommended Maurice Perez. He knew that piece backwards. But Maurice Perez didn’t know tempos like Duke knew his tempos. So during rehearsals we got in a little confrontation there between Maurice Perez and myself with the rhythm section. I said, “Maurice, you know this piece better than I do, but I know the tempos better than you do. I know the tempos that Duke wanted.” We finally ironed it out. He’s a real gentleman. He came to me later on and said, “You’re right. I’ve got to listen to you when it comes to tempos.” That to me spells a good musician when you can do that, open your eyes and ears. Because he knows that music.
Brown: So that whole experience with Duke’s sacred concerts inspired you as well to write your sacred music suite.
Bellson: Absolutely. Because Duke came to me after we played Grace Cathedral and the one in New York. Duke said, “Lou, you should do a sacred music of your own. You write and you compose. There’s no reason why you can’t do your own sacred music. You’re a religious person.” The only difference is that Duke’s sacred concert is based on the first testament, on God. Mine is on the second testament, involving Jesus, although my first number is No One but God. But after that it talks about Jesus, the motivator to get to God. So he inspired me to do that. We have a CD. It’s ready to go now, with efforts by the USC big band with strings and USC choir. John Thomas was the contractor for it, a trumpet player. Francine has really made the thing come to life. She’s taken the pictures. She came in for the concert. She wrote the liner notes. Francine put the whole thing together. Coordinated the pictures, the amount of time that each number took. That’s a monumental job in itself right there, producing. She produced it, the CD. We’re talking to some people now about doing it ourselves and getting an outfit out of Nashville that has distribution power through all the churches all over the country in stores that sell music of this kind. I’ve tried to inflect a little bit of jazz – a little bit of music – a little groove music in there with a religious tone, because that’s what Duke did.
Brown: He’s still influencing you to this day.
Bellson: Yeah. That’s right.
Brown: Let’s talk about the other great influence in your life, since you brought her up: Francine. When did you meet Francine? How did you come together?
Bellson: On a cruise. This was a cruise that started in L.A., went up to Vancouver, British Columbia, and back to L.A. Leonard Feather called it the Ellington cruise. Most of the guys – Buster Cooper was on it. If fact Buster Cooper’s the one that introduced me to Francine. The cruise was in October – some time in October – and I had to tell Leonard Feather, “I can’t make it. I got a date booked already at that time.” He said, “You got to make it.” I said, “Let me call up these people I’m supposed to – see if I can cancel my gig and do it later on.” As luck would have it, that happened. The guy said, “Yeah, we can do it later” – the beginning of the year instead of October. Otherwise I would have missed meeting Francine. I got on the ship. We played. All of a sudden I saw this lady walking back and forth on the ship, and Buster Cooper introduced me to her. When I heard that she was working for IBM – I was always afraid in my early years that writing music, and having a fire or a flood happen, and there was a lifetime of work gone down the tubes. My brother used to have an outdoor garage. I used to keep my music there. I used to dream of rats getting in there and chewing up my notes. When I heard IBM and Francine, I said, “I want to talk to you,” but I didn’t tell her what was in the back of my mind otherwise, not only about the music, but she was looking good to me. So I told her, “Is there some way I can put this in a computer or do something to save it?” “Yes, there is.” So we got into that. I didn’t meet her until the last few days. It was a week-long cruise. I met her and started talking to her the last couple of days. I had one more visit with her. Buddy Baker was on that tour – on the ship. When I left her, I said, “I’ll be calling you.” She had a birthday coming up, October 17th. I sent her a whole bunch of flowers, and I called her every day. In fact, my phone calls – I went to Europe right after that, and my phone calls were an hour and a half long, calling from Europe to L.A. When I finally got my telephone bills from the hotels, they were like $2,500 this day, $2,500 this day. So I finally got back to the States. We made arrangements to get engaged, because she says, “I don’t fool around.” She said, “Either we’re going to get engaged to get married, or say goodbye, Charlie.” I said, “Let’s do it.”
Brown: What year was this?
Bellson: let me see. I met her – the cruise was 19 – a year and a half after Pearl died. Brown: So ’91, ’92? Bellson: About ’91 or ’92, yeah. I had no eyes to get married. After 39 years with Pearl, I could tell you, “No marriage. I’m going to play my drums, write my music. That’ll keep me busy. That’s it.” But the good Lord has his way of doing things. So, the last couple of days, and then that time I was in Europe. I came back, and her father – a very religious man, too – we decided, let’s get engaged and get married. So we did. She went to her employer, IBM. [They] said, “Francine, you’ve got a problem here. If you’re going to get married, that’s fine. But you can’t expect to take a week off here when Lou’s going off somewhere to do a date and you’re going to accompany him. You can’t do that. You can’t take a week off here and a week there and a week – before you’d know it, he’d be on the road with you all the time. I suggest you do a buyout,” because at that time IBM was going down quite a bit. To take a buyout was smart, because you’d get a taste of a bonus, because, look at the future, there was no future. They were going to hire and fire a lot of people. So Francine got the bright idea, “Why don’t I go with you, and I’ll start selling some of your things, like CDs?” So she started doing – she made her own business out of that. So that made it an opportunity to be together. She’s got her business going, and I’ve got my business going. She’s an excellent saleswoman. She could sell my drawers, if I had them for sale.
Brown: You might want to end on that one.
Kimery: 10 more minutes.
Brown: Okay. We could continue. What date did you get married?
Bellson: September the 26th, 19. . .
Brown: 1992?
Bellson: It was a year and a half after Pearl. ’92. I have to think about it. The years go by so fast. ’92. September 26th. We’ve been married 13 years as of this last September 26th.
Brown: You were married here in California, or where were you married?
Bellson: Yeah. Right here at our church, Emmanuel Baptist Church.
Brown: Where’s Francine from originally?
Bellson: She’s from Washington, D.C., but she spent a lot of time out here, because of IBM, and she worked for a couple of other firms before IBM – for 14 years at IBM. She worked in the department, they made those big computers, giant computers.
Kimery: We’ll stop here.
Brown: Okay
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