Showing posts with label Jim Marshall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jim Marshall. Show all posts

Monday, October 14, 2019

Jazz Festival - The Photography of Jim Marshall

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


"This extraordinary book documents, through the brilliant photography of Jim Marshall, one of the most important periods in the cultural history of the United States."
 - NAT HENTOFF

Jazz Festivals today are ubiquitous, but there was a time in the late 1950s and early 1960s when there were only two: one in Newport, RI and the other in Monterey, CA.

In Jazz Festival, Jim Marshall the emphasis is on the latter as it includes Jim’s photographs from the 1960 through 1966 Monterey Jazz Festivals. What is particularly rewarding about these photos is that they contain images of the Jazz fans who attended these MJFs, as well as, the musicians who performed at them. In a sense, these photographs provide a social-cultural photographic document of what it was like to experience the Jazz scene at the pinnacle of its acceptance by a large portion of the American public.

Here’s an overview of Jim and the book as taken from the dust jacket.

“The incomparable JIM MARSHALL (1936-2010) is known as the defining father of music photography and his intimate photographs of the greats of rock & roll, country, folk, blues and jazz are legendary. Renowned for his extraordinary access and ability to capture the perfect moment, his influence is second to none. In 2014, Marshall became the only photographer ever to be honored by the Grammys with a Trustees Award for his life's work.

Published here for the first time ever are Jim Marshall's jazz festival photographs from the 1960s. Over 95 percent of the material in this breathtaking coffee table volume has never been seen before. Marshall's remarkable photographs of the festivals at Newport and Monterey immortalize the unique energy and soul of these celebrations of jazz. This immersive body of work feels like experiencing the atmosphere of those summer days first hand. Marshall's inimitable lens captured the crowd, the fashion, the performances and unguarded moments with jazz icons like Thelonious Monk, John Coltrane, Duke Ellington, Miles Davis, Nina Simone, Dizzy Gillespie and many more.

Complete access to Marshall's vast archive has been granted for this book. It features a foreword by President Bill Clinton, and an introduction by legendary jazz writer and historian Nat Hentoff, who places the jazz festivals in the larger context of the civil rights movement in America at the time. 


This is the first in a series of books to be published by R|A|P in collaboration with the Jim Marshall Archive.”

A fuller appreciation of the role of Jazz festivals in American cultural life during their earliest years is contained in the following essay by Graham Marsh.

COAST TO COAST 

Stay cool, look sharp and let the music lay a taste on your ears.

“For any hipster or Young Turk riding on a blue note in the 1960s, jazz festivals were the genuine article. Whether it was at Fort Adams State Park in the resort town of Newport, Rhode Island or at the 20-acre oak-studded Monterey County Fairground in California, it must have been something else! 

Both festivals were like a vinyl record collection coming to life. Gerry Mulligan, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk, Sonny Rollins, Dave Brubeck, Duke Ellington and the endless roll call of jazz luminaries live on stage at Monterey and Newport was an outstanding experience for all those lucky enough to have been there.

You can almost feel the sun's warming rays and an ocean breeze emanating from Jim Marshall's evocative photographs in this book. Jazz Festival is not a nostalgic yearning for the past but a celebration of the continuing cultural craze for all things relating to Modern Jazz and Ivy Look clothing, which for some people who care about these things, is important. Sartorially and musically both are intrinsically still linked and both are without doubt the essence of cool, the ultimate in hip.

Miles Davis, the coolest man on the planet during his ivy-suited period, was probably most responsible for both the "look and sound" of Modern Jazz. The look was predominantly East Coast Ivy League but the sound was uniquely his own. Miles used to get most of his Ivy clothes from Charlie Davidson's Andover Shop in Cambridge, Massachusetts, just off Harvard Square. Davidson was a sort of bridge figure between Modern Jazz and the Ivy Look. As well as Miles Davis, Davidson was a friend of George Wein and Charlie Bourgeois, who were both closely associated with the Newport Jazz Festival, and at the same time to a famed journalist, George Frazier, himself a well-known connoisseur of clothes and jazz. Indeed, Frazier christened Miles, "The Warlord of the Weejuns!" If Miles wore it, it was instantly hip.

In the 1960s, when it came to jazz, style was part of me equation in both clothes and attitude. At Monterey and Newport black culture was openly embraced and integrated audiences were the norm. Nobody cared — as long as you looked sharp and dug the music — anything else was just jiving, there was strictly no room for squares. At both festivals, on any given day it was a sea of Bass Weejun loafers, natural shouldered seersucker jackets, essential Lacoste tennis shirts and Clarks desert boots. Definitely on the money were also button-down shirts, chinos and 501 Levi's. Topping off these proto-cool clothes was a formidable array of men and women's hats. 

From straw pork-pie snap-brims with deep Madras bands, back-buckle Ivy sports caps and deeply hip berets to Audrey Hepburn influenced wide-brimmed straw hats and headscarves plus a confection of groovy chapeaus that would not look out of place on the catwalks of a Parisian fashion show.


Just pause for a moment and take a look at the photograph … of trombonist and Blue Note alumni J. J. Johnson, taken in 1961 at Monterey. He is wearing a classic button-down, pop-over shirt with the top button fastened, a pin sharp seersucker jacket and elegantly hip eyeglasses — it doesn't get much better than that. Monterey and Newport were a veritable catalogue of Ivy cool. It was dressing fine, making time and, moreover, a visual feast for Ray-Ban and Persol shaded eyes.

Although the Ivy clothes may have been de rigueur, at the center of it all was the music. It was Ornette Coleman on stage playing his yellow plastic Selmer alto saxophone, accompanied by Don Cherry on pocket trumpet. It was John Coltrane endlessly riffing on some standard-issue show tune. Miles Davis and Gerry Mulligan paring the music down and laying it out, looking like fashion plates to the assembled congregation. It was saxophone colossus Sonny Rollins taking care of business, always ahead of the musical curve. His insouciant trademark, top button only fastened on his three button jacket. These musicians were the cat's whiskers and in mid-twentieth-century America it was Modern Jazz that fused the connection between music and the Ivy Look.

The original Monterey and Newport jazz festivals have, over the years, spawned many music festivals worldwide but like Dobie Gray says in his song "The 'In' Crowd"-"The original's still the greatest!" You have bought the book, absorbed the images, now play the music!

But perhaps an even greater significance of Jazz festivals for the nation as a whole is reflected in this essay by Nat Hentoff.”


JAZZ FESTIVALS AND THE CHANGING OF AMERICA

I had never before seen such a large, integrated crowd coming together for a common purpose.

“This extraordinary book documents, through the brilliant photography of Jim Marshall, one of the most important periods in the cultural history of the United States.

Throughout the 1950s and 1960s, the Newport and Monterey jazz festivals and the battle for civil rights in the South offered starkly contrasting images of America.

After World War II, US soldiers who fought fascism abroad returned to an apartheid nation at home. Blacks and whites could be found in the same towns and cities throughout America but they existed in different worlds.
This was true for most of America but especially in the Southern states where segregation of the races was brutally enforced by Jim Crow laws that dictated how and where blacks could live, work, eat, travel, go to the bathroom or even take a drink of water. Imprisonment, beatings and lynchings were the penalties for blacks who disobeyed Jim Crow.

In the North, where segregation laws never took root, social norms made it difficult for blacks and whites to socialize together in public. One notable exception was the bars and music venues where they gathered to listen to jazz, the first uniquely American art form.

Yet jazz clubs that allowed too much race mixing, as it was called at the time, could still expect to be leaned on by local police. In the early 1940s, before I could vote, I often lied my way into Boston's Savoy Cafe, where I first came to know jazz musicians. It was the only place in town where blacks and whites were regularly on the stand and in the audience. This led police occasionally to go into the men's room, confiscate the soap, and hand the manager a ticket for unsanitary conditions. There was no law in Boston against mixing the races, but it was frowned on in official circles. I used to hear similar complaints from jazz club owners in New York City during the 1950s.

All of this began to change during the summer of 1954. On May 17, the US Supreme Court issued its landmark decision in Brown v. Board of Education, ruling that segregation was a violation of the US Constitution. On July 11, the first White Citizens' Council was formed in Indianola, Mississippi, dedicated to preventing the integration of the South. And on July 17 and 18, the first jazz festival was held in Newport, Rhode Island.

The Citizens' Councils soon spread throughout the South, unleashing a wave of terror directed at non-violent civil rights protesters. While Jim Marshall photographed integrated crowds peacefully digging each other's company at jazz festivals, news photographs of police dogs attacking black men, women and children captured a very different reality in the South.

The roots of jazz, as well as the roots of the civil rights movement, can be found in the field hollers of slaves reaching out to each other across plantations; gospel songs and prayers connecting slavery here with stories of deliverance of Jews from slavery in the Old Testament; and the blues, the common language of jazz, echoing in Armstrong singing "What did I do to be so black and blue?"

In The Triumph of Music (Harvard University Press) Tim Blanning of Cambridge University tells how black musicians helped prepare America for the civil rights movement. As when opera singer Marian Anderson, denied permission to sing at Constitution Hall by the Daughters of the American Revolution in 1939, was invited to instead sing at the Lincoln memorial by Eleanor Roosevelt. She returned to the Lincoln memorial in 1963, during the March on Washington, to sing the spiritual, "He's Got The Whole World In His Hands."

I was there, at the back of the stage, covering this typhoon of protest for Westinghouse radio, as Mahalia Jackson performed "I've Been Buked and I've Been Scorned," before she sang out: "Tell them about your dream, Martin!"

Outside of the Newport and Monterey jazz festivals, I had never before seen such a large, integrated crowd coming together for a common purpose. As jazz reached deeply into more white Americans, America began to change.”

If you want to see what this “change” looked like at its beginnings, Jim Marshall’s Jazz Festival is a great place to start.



Tuesday, November 22, 2016

From Marshall to Williams to Jazz Photography

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


“There's a significance, too, in the way [Jim] Marshall's photographs tend to soften the sharp cultural divisions of his time. Barriers — between races, between classes, between celebrity and civilian — are broken down under the scrutiny of Marshall's lens. … In these photographs exists real proof of the ability of Americans to heal the wounds of divisiveness through music, one of humanity's great unifiers.”
- Brian Zimmerman, Managing Editor, Downbeat

The current issue of Downbeat [December/2016] has reviews of new books about the Jazz photographers Jim Marshall and Ted Williams by Bobby Reed [editor] and Brian Zimmerman [managing editor], respectively.

Jazz has been very fortunate to have a large part of its legacy preserved in the many iconic images taken through the years by photographic artists such as William Claxton, Francis Wolff, Herman Leonard, Chuck Stewart, Esmond Edwards, William Gottlieb, Paul Hoeffler, Bob Willoughby, Lee Tanner, Ray Avery, Jan Persson, Kathy Sloane, Raymond Ross, and Burt Goldblatt.

The music and its makers are fortunate, too, in having well-trained and highly experienced professionals such as Cynthia Sesso who work in relationship to the legacy of many of these Jazz photographers as archivists, photo representation and licensors, special projects researchers and exhibitions curators. You can find out more about Cynthia, the photographers she represents and her work on their behalf by visiting her website at http://www.ctsimages.com.

Cynthia has been more than generous to the editorial staff at JazzProfiles in granting us the privilege of using the images of photographers that she represents as part of many of the features that post to the blog.

As a note in passing, Cynthia represents photographer Ted Williams’ work, as well as, many of the others listed above.

Both the Jim Marshall collection and the Ted Williams compilations would make excellent choices as holiday gifts and are represented as such in the Downbeat December 2016 issue.

Let’s begin with Bobby Reed’s review which he entitles Williams’ Amazing Artistry:

“Sports aficionados around the world revere  Ted Williams (1918-2002), one of the I greatest baseball players to ever pick up a bat. Similarly, photojournalism aficionados around the world revere a man with the same name: Ted Williams (1925-2009), one of the greatest photographers to ever pick up a camera.
During his long career, Williams shot major events in sports, politics, culture and music. He photographed Dr. Martin Luther King and many marches of the Civil Rights Movement. He covered the war in Vietnam. He photographed the 1968 Summer Olympics in Mexico City. Williams' images were published in numerous magazines, including Ebony, Look, Time, Newsweek and Metronome.

Williams also enjoyed a fruitful relationship with DownBeat. He made a big splash with his extensive coverage of the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival. He would go on to provide the photos for some of the most famous DownBeat covers in history. Many of those images are compiled in the gorgeous, 352-page coffee-table book Jazz: The Iconic Images of Ted Williams (ACC Editions).

When Williams passed away in 2009, he left behind nearly 100,000 prints and negatives. Jazz is the first book dedicated to Williams' jazz photography, highlighting dozens of images that have never been previously published. The images are augmented with Williams' own comments as well as analysis from jazz historians and journalists.

Williams proves himself to be just as poetic with a pen as he was with a camera. Here's what he wrote about his portrait of Sarah Vaughan taken backstage in Chicago in 1948: "I was a student at The Institute of Design at the time, and called Sarah directly at her hotel (possible in those days) and received permission to photograph her in her dressing room for the next issue of a nonexistent college newspaper.

"Dave Garroway (the first Today show host) was a well-known Chicago disc jockey then and 'Sissy's' biggest and most vocal fan. When she came onstage, [Garroway] preceded her, scattering rose petals for her to walk on. This got a lot of press locally and did not resonate too well with a few bigots that took notice.

"About mid-week, a group sat in the front row and waited for Sarah to start singing, and proceeded to throw tomatoes at her.

"This photo was taken a few days before that notorious incident."

The book is chock-full of moments that will intrigue jazz buffs. For example, in 1953 at Chicago's Blue Note club, Williams photographed a rehearsal by members of pianist George Shearing's quintet. This resulted in a beautiful portrait of the group's handsome, mustachioed, bespectacled guitarist: Toots Thielemans, who would later become the most famous harmonica player in jazz history.

Williams' 1961 photo of Dizzy Gillespie and Lionel Hampton performing inside a CBS-TV studio captures the excitement and formality of the situation, with both men wearing dress shirts and neckties, Diz's cheeks inflated and Hamp's right-hand mallet a blur hovering above the vibraphone.

Williams' 1956 portrait of singer Carmen McRae has the elegance and sumptuous beauty of a Cecil Beaton portrait. Williams was equally skilled whether he was shooting a musician onstage or off. For an action shot of organ player Jimmy Smith, Williams bent down close to instrument's keys, giving the viewer a better-than-bird’s-eye-view of a master s fingers at work.

Among the DownBeat covers reproduced in the book are ones featuring Williams' photos of Oscar Peterson vividly gesturing as he explains a point (Oct. 29,1959), Art Farmer and Benny Golson laughing together (Sept. 1,1960) and Ray Charles using an engraved cigarette lighter (Sept. 12,1963).

Some of these DownBeat covers provide fantastic details about what was happening in jazz at the time. The June 30, 1966, cover has a moody shot of Dave Brubeck, hands on piano keys and head bowed. The headline for that cover story is a simple: "Dave Brubeck, Composer." But the same issue contains this screaming headline: "Don Ellis: The Avant-Garde Is Not Avant-Garde!" When Oscar Brown Jr. appeared on the cover of the Dec. 6, 1962, issue, with the headline "Rebel With A Cause," one of the other stories was "Lennie Tristano Speaks Out: What Happened To The Jazz In Jazz?"

The book's index of images is a who's who of the greatest names in jazz—Louis Armstrong, Count Basie, Tony Bennett, Art Blakey, John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald and Stan Getz among them.

Williams was an important part of jazz history, and this book belongs in the collection of anyone interested in the history of America's greatest art form.                        
—Bobby Reed”

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Brian Zimmerman’s review of the new book about Jim Marshall’s work is entitled Classic Images.

The best photographs linger in the mind even after you shut your eyes. It's the same with great jazz songs, whose melodies seem to stay awhile, even after the last note sounds. In both, there's a sense of eternity, which is why the marriage of the two— as in the jazz images of photographer Jim Marshall—can seem timeless.

Marshall, the only photographer to be honored with a Trustees Award by the Grammy foundation, has long been known for his iconic images of rock musicians, many of which have become signifiers of the music itself—think Jimi Hendrix burning his guitar at the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival, or Johnny Cash extending his middle finger to the camera during his 1969 San Quentin Prison show. These photos do more than just document a moment: They capture spirit of the music itself. That kind of artistry requires more than merely good lighting and the right lens.

Jazz music—with its insistence on spontaneity—thrives on live performance, and during the 1960s, few cultural phenomena better embodied this notion than the Newport and Monterey jazz festivals. Even in those nascent years (the Newport Jazz Festival began in 1954, the Monterey Jazz Festival in 1958), there could be gleaned from these annual gatherings a sense that jazz was speaking to the masses. Few photographers tapped into the Zeitgeist of these moments better than Marshall, whose photos have been collected into a new coffee-table book, Jazz Festival: Jim Marshall (Reel ArtPress).

Compiled by photographer Amelia Davis, the bulk of the 600-plus black-and-white images within Jazz Festival are entirely new, revelatory even to the most dedicated fans of Marshall's work. Carefully catalogued across more than 300 pages, the photos capture in Marshall's typically illuminating style jazz's leading figures of the day—John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk, Nina Simone, Sonny Rollins—as well as the eager and intriguing crowds that flocked to California and Rhode Island to see them. Essays and introductions by President Bill Clinton and jazz journalist Nat Hentoff brace the reader for exploration, but the photos lend themselves to interminable searching.

Perhaps this is because Marshall's photographs seem to carve out greater slices of time than the mere split-second they document on film. Each image is packed with momentum, capturing a sense of motion, of possibility, of improvisation. In Marshall's shot of Duke Ellington and Paul Gonsalves at the 1961 Monterey Jazz Festival, notice how the image begins to play like a movie in your mind, how you can practically hear Gonsalves' iridescent solo unspooling like a soundtrack, how you can practically envision the action unfolding— Ellington clapping, urging his brilliant saxophonist on. There's life beneath these frozen moments, an energy preserved.

There's a significance, too, in the way Marshall's photographs tend to soften the sharp cultural divisions of his time. Barriers— between races, between classes, between celebrity and civilian—are broken down under the scrutiny of Marshall's lens. At Monterey in 1963, Marshall captures Miles Davis and Harry James—avatars of different styles, manners and modes—sharing a moment of levity over a cigarette. In a photo from 1961 Dizzy Gillespie, one of bebop's founding fathers, demonstrates a piano figure to Lalo Schifrin, a Jewish pianist from Buenos Aires, who adopted bop's language as his native tongue. The spirit of unity wasn't relegated to the bandstand, either. In photos of the audience — and there are dozens throughout this impressive volume — one can see a sliver of the population choosing to come together despite their differences. In Monterey, black and white audience members seek shelter from the same sun; in Newport, festival-goers of various backgrounds walk the same cobblestone streets. In these photographs exists real proof of the ability of Americans to heal the wounds of divisiveness through music, one of humanity's great unifiers.



People, though, are just one aspect of these festival photos. The landscapes of Monterey and Newport make for equally compelling subjects, and Marshall excels at distilling the essence of each place into a single image. In Monterey, festival-goers are seen stuffing pages of newspaper under the brims of their hats to keep the glare off their sunglasses, and in Newport, saxophonist Sonny Stitt leans against the hood of an elegant car, his far-off glance as majestic as the endless sky.

Marshall, who died in 2010 at age 74, started documenting musicians on film while still in high school, first in San Francisco for small-time publications, and later across the country for the likes of Rolling Stone magazine and Columbia Records. He was known for his forceful personality and voluble presence. His generosity of spirit is reflected in his work, and his photos are a gift to American history.

Marshall had no children of his own, but saw in his sweeping body of work the makings of a legacy. Of a series of photographs of Hendrix taken during the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967—exquisitely framed, expertly developed—he said, "These are my children."
—Brian Zimmerman

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