Showing posts with label steve siegel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label steve siegel. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 15, 2026

Bob Weinstock and the Prestige All-Star Sessions by Steve Siegel

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



“In January 1949, Mr. Weinstock directed his first recording session, with Konitz and pianist Lennie Tristano, for a label he first called New Jazz before changing the name to Prestige. His records, including several by Getz and Stitt and Annie Ross ' " Twisted, " were finding success on the radio and in jukeboxes. Phobic about airplane travel, Mr. Weinstock traveled around the country by bus, talking to distributors and disc jockeys, and with his father ' s help he set up an effective promotion and distribution system.

When his label was at its peak in the 1950s, he organized an average of 75 recording sessions a year.

He recruited Monk and Davis when their contracts with other companies had expired. He signed Rollins and Coltrane to Prestige, for which they recorded the monumental saxophone duet " Tenor Madness " in 1956.

In 1953, saxophonist Charlie Parker appeared on one of Rollins ' Prestige albums under the name " Charlie Chan " because of contractual issues.

Few of the recordings made money at first, but in 1952, Prestige scored a jazz hit with King Pleasure ' s vocal version of " Moody ' s Mood for Love. " With the sales of that record, Mr. Weinstock was able to keep his company afloat.

When larger record labels raided his roster, Mr. Weinstock made sure he received every last contractually obligated musical morsel from his players. Before he allowed Davis to sign with Columbia Records in 1956, Mr. Weinstock sent the trumpeter to the studio for two solid days, eventually releasing four albums from the marathon, one-take recording sessions. The albums, " Cookin ' With the Miles Davis Quintet " and its companion volumes, " Relaxin ' , " " Workin ' " and " Steamin ' , " are considered some of Davis ' finest efforts from the 1950s.

By the late 1950s, Mr. Weinstock was hiring others to sign artists and produce the sessions, and the company ' s direction changed with the music. By the mid-1960s it was moving toward soul-jazz, recording many titles by Richard " Groove " Holmes, Willis Jackson and Charles Earland.

In 1972, Mr. Weinstock sold Prestige to Fantasy Records and retired to Florida at 43. He invested in the stock market and commodities, based on formulas of his own devising.”

  • Published by San Diego Union-Tribune on Jan. 22, 2006.

With previous features on pianist Wade Legge, the Great Day in Harlem Photograph “Mystery Man” - William J. Crump, drummer Frankie Dunlop, vocalist Jimmy Rushing, critic and author Nat Hentoff, and Jazz Party: A Great Night In Manhattan featuring the Miles Davis Sextet, the Duke Ellington Orchestra, the September 9, 1958 fest that Columbia Records put on at the Plaza Hotel for its executives and guests, trumpeter Dupree Bolton, and vocalist Helen Merrill, over the years, Steve Siegel has assumed the role of “unofficial” staff writer for JazzProfiles.

© -Steve Siegel copyright protected; all rights reserved; used with the author’s permission.

Bob Weinstock and the Prestige All-Star Sessions

By Steve Siegel

From August 3, 1956 to April 29, 1959, Prestige Records owner Bob Weinstock produced 21 sessions with an ever-changing group of 65 total musicians. The sessions were thematic and the iterations of musicians in their various groupings at the sessions were referred to as “The Prestige All Stars.” The albums were released under various titles.

The all-stars were mostly either current stars or emerging ones. Hand-picked by Weinstock, many of the all-stars were present at multiple sessions, with Mal Waldron leading the way with 11 appearances, Doug Watkins lugged his bass to 10 sessions with Kenny Burrell’s guitar and Arthur Taylor's drum kit present on nine each. The oldest participant was Coleman Hawkins born in 1906 and the youngest was Louis Hayes born in 1937. But the majority of the participants were in their 20s and early 30s, representing the second wave in the evolution of jazz following the Parker/Gillespie first generation of modernists. 

Weinstock most likely used the moniker “Prestige All Stars” for marketing reasons. In 1956, when the series began, most of the musicians he planned to use were relatively new to the New York scene and did not have the name recognition necessary to sell albums featuring any one musician’s name on the record’s cover. It also allowed him to use ever changing groups and still maintain an identity for the record buying public.

Actually, Weinstock’s first all-star session was the legendary 1954 Christmas Eve meeting of Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis and Milt Jackson - as legendary for the controversy generated when Davis asked Monk to "lay-out,” as for the music produced – which was two versions of Jackson's “Groovin' High.”

Weinstock took a rather unique approach to many of these sessions. Generally, any session labeled as an all-star session might merely be a rather tedious series of jam sessions featuring a “head" followed by a series of solos with each player trying to generate excitement through the use of riffs, volume and speed, perhaps explicitly or implicitly competing with other participants. The format might generate excitement but can sometimes offer successive solos with little continuity which serve up the musical equivalent of empty calories and rarely holds the listener's interest throughout the 35-to-40-minute length of an average record.

The best of these Prestige All-star Sessions hold together surprisingly well due to some of the good choices Weinstock made in terms of instrumentation and repertoire, as well as how he selected and grouped the musicians for each session. Because of this preplanning, every so often, an all-star session managed to transcend its structural limitations as “just a jam session” and could produce jazz of a high level.

Weinstock has rarely received the credit he deserves for the conception, execution and resultant commercial and aesthetic success of the series.  One possible reason for the oversight is that the series was overlooked due to the sheer volume of product that “The Big Two” - Prestige and Blue Note (as well as other smaller labels) put out in what was possibly the busiest year in the recorded history of jazz-1957. Prestige held 70 sessions that year and Blue Note held 51, for a total of 121 sessions. As a point of contrast, in 1958 Prestige held 38 sessions and Blue Note 34 for a total of 72 sessions, or 49 less than there was in 1957. So, 1957 was a great year for the record buying public, but not so good for any one album trying to stand out in such a crowded market, much less a series of 15 all-star sessions released that same year. As we sift through the written history of jazz, until recently, with Tad Richard’s well researched book, Listening to Prestige, there is surprisingly little written about Weinstock. He is essentially treated as the “Black Knight" of the industry. What has been written of him sometimes compares him to the “White Knight" of jazz, Blue Note’s, Alfred Lion.

 Weinstock was rather parsimonious in all aspects of his operation and was said to  oftentimes take financial advantage of his musicians. Lion, though not perfect, was mostly fair in his dealings. Lion provided paid rehearsal time, Weinstock none; or if provided, did not pay musicians for the time. Weinstock is even criticized for the fact that even though they both recorded at Rudy Van Gelder’s studio, the result of the overall audio quality of Blue Note recordings seem to be a bit better than Prestige’s. The argument goes that Alfred Lion was heavily involved in the sound of his productions and worked with Van Gelder to get the sound he wanted and conversely Bob Weinstock left Rudy alone and did not really have a vision for a “house" sound on Prestige. Consequently Van Gelder, would experiment and try different equipment, different microphone placements and other tweaks at the Prestige sessions, some of which worked quite well and others not so well. Weinstock generally wanted things done in one take and if any further takes were necessary, he would insist that Van Gelder tape over the first take to save money, which explains why few or no rejected takes exist in the Prestige vaults. 

Many of these criticisms are valid but for others there are apparent reasons for what Weinstock did. When listening to some of the more successful all-star sessions, it’s evident that Weinstock was able to coax some sublime solos from the participants by simply getting out of the way and letting them play - something that Alfred Lion probably would be less apt to do. Lion would most likely not give up that much control to the musicians by allowing pieces to build organically over the 15-20 minutes it took for soloists to finish their statements during these “jam" like sessions. In February 1957, uncharacteristically, Lion took a revolving group of musicians into Manhattan Towers for a three-day marathon recording session featuring Jimmy Smith's organ. Evidently, Lion was in a “jammin'” mood, as eight of the pieces recorded ran between 10 and 17 minutes.

As far as finding musicians, Weinstock was able to cast a wide net during this period. Quite possibly the largest influx of young musicians, schooled in the language of bebop  arrived in New York during the mid to late 1950s. Further, most of those jazz musicians that Weinstock might have had an interest in were not signed to long-term contracts with any labels. Generally, if they were a member of a working group that was recording, the group leader would have a contract that stated that the group as a whole were restricted to only recording for that label but the sidemen were free to record for any label that they wished. The first classic Miles Davis group was a good example of this type of structure. Davis was signed to Prestige but Garland, Chambers, Coltrane and Jones were able to individually or in combination record for other labels.  

So, Weinstock was essentially the musical equivalent of the little boy in the candy store in that he had many choices of talented musicians. Some came to Prestige based on word-of-mouth from players who had recorded for the label, some were simply brought to sessions by other musicians. Still, others who recorded for other labels were heard by Weinstock, who then contacted them.

Most record label owners and producers spent time in the clubs actually hearing the musicians, Weinstock spent little if any time in the clubs but relied on word-of-mouth recommendations from people whose judgment he trusted. So, from this pastiche of sources, Weinstock had many musicians to choose from for his sessions.

Though Weinstock did not pay well and had a reputation for economically exploiting musicians, he had no trouble finding willing participants. Despite all his personal and professional flaws, he had one characteristic that the musicians appreciated. He held loose reins on their performances which provided more artistic freedom than other labels might have been comfortable with.

Though he might have given up a great deal of artistic control during the actual sessions, there does seem to have been much thought put into the pre-planning of instrumental configurations as well as the choice of musicians for each session. 

There existed somewhat of a dichotomy between the clear pre-planned structure at the all-star sessions, with, on the one hand, Weinstock successfully putting together musicians who had a history of working together, being occasionally offset by his quest for unique combinations of instruments on some sessions. This would yield mixed results, with the overall quality of the playing being good, but the aesthetic value of the music, at times, being rather variable.

To point out two examples:

Formats such as using two baritone saxes and two French horns (Pepper Adams, Cecil Payne, Julius Watkins, Dave Amram - Modern Jazz Survey 2 / Baritones & French Horns 1957) or  four alto saxes- (Phil Woods, Gene Quill, Sahib Shihab, Hal Stein - Four Altos 1957, could be confusing to the listener as they attempt to figure out which saxophones or trumpets or horns, they were listening to. Most of these records were only available in monophonic sound, so liner notes that map out who is in which channel were useless as well as the sonority of instruments clashing.

But Weinstock's efforts also yielded a few classic sessions within the realm of all-star groups “jammin’" together. We could also go as far as to say that even though most of these very young musicians were already forming a reputation in New York City, their work on these sessions helped to further advance their solo careers. 

Examples of quality All-Star sessions which have stood the test of time and have been  reissued or at least well recognized by reviewers and/or critics over the last 70 years:

All Night Long- December 28, 1956 PR 7073

All Day Long- January 4, 1957 PR 7081

Earthy- January 25, 1957, PR 7102

The Cats- April 18, 1957 NJLP 8217 (New Jazz)

After Hours- June 21, 1957 PR 7118

*All Morning Long- November 15, 1957 PR 7130

*Soul Junction- November 15, 1957 PR 7181

  * These were not labeled as all-star sessions but under the title The Red Garland Quintet with John Coltrane and Donald Byrd. I include this as an all-star session because the Red Garland Quintet was not a working band and the albums' format is consistent with other “All-Star" sessions. By late November 1957 Garland, Coltrane and Byrd had enough name recognition to be listed on the cover as featured artists so, for marketing purposes, the “Prestige All-Stars" cover title was not necessary.

So, we might ask: “What makes the best recordings of these all-stars so special that they transcend the many other so-called ‘jam sessions’ that were rather ubiquitous in the late 1940s and early 1950s?” What factors led Art Taylor, who appears on five of the seven albums to opine: “ All Day Long and All Night Long are milestones in the careers of all the musicians involved.”

After all, similar to most Prestige sessions (at least those that didn't involve Miles Davis or Sonny Rollins or working groups) these sessions often involved disparate groupings of musicians, oftentimes material cobbled together at the session, no rehearsals, no second takes, a producer (Weinstock) who was not a musician and was willing to settle for less than perfect takes. This is obviously not the usual formula for success.

Perhaps one important reason for the quality of the all-star sessions was the presence of so many young and talented musicians from Detroit, Michigan, who had emigrated to New York City between 1953 and 1957. These Detroit musicians not only worked together in New York but came out of the same musical environment. Many even went to the same high schools, e.g., Cass Technical High or Miller High School. A list of those who appear on the all-star sessions and received their music education in the Detroit area includes; Kenny Burrell, Tommy Flanagan, Thad Jones, Paul Chambers, Doug Watkins, Frank Foster, Donald Byrd and Louis Hayes. These eight recent émigrés from Detroit to New York appear a total of 18 times on these seven albums. 

As Mark Stryker puts it in his Jazz from Detroit book:

 “The combination of exceptional music education in the public schools, thriving nightlife, and influential mentors… in the community, transformed the city into a jazz juggernaut in the 1940s and 50s.”

Stryker went on to say:  “With their hard swinging styles, affinity for the blues and polished craftsmanship, Detroit musicians were to the hard bop manner born as they migrated east. They populated the top bands, clubs and record labels the way an earlier crop of Detroit exports (did).”

We might add to this that they were all friends or at least acquaintances from the same generation and therefore were generally more amenable to collaboration than to competition with one another.

Unlike a jazz session with young musicians competing to prove themselves, the all-star sessions contained these young but musically advanced musicians who had survived jam sessions as well as the scrutiny of the very hip and very knowledgeable audiences in the Detroit of the 1950s. As tenor saxophonist Joe Henderson puts it:

 “Detroit had the best listening audience.  The audiences around Detroit were like musicians. I mean, they knew. No way to come up on the bandstand jiving. That could be injurious to one’s ego.”

So, the high musical standards and educational opportunities of Detroit jazz which served to prepare the Detroit based musicians and provided them with the skills and confidence necessary to succeed in New York City, was one factor in preparing them for the sessions at Prestige. But some of the credit has to go to Blue Note’s Alfred Lion. 

In late 1955 and into 1956 - dates that preceded the Prestige all-star sessions involving the Detroit musicians - Lion brought Thad Jones into the Van Gelder studio for sessions that produced three highly regarded albums: Detroit- New York Junction (BLP 1513), The Magnificent Thad Jones (BLP 1527) and The Magnificent Thad Jones Vol. 3 (BLP 1546). 

These three albums, though much more highly structured than the future Prestige sessions were to be (as one would expect from Alfred Lion), were anchored by Detroit musicians; Thad Jones, Barry Harris, Kenny Burrell, Tommy Flanagan, Billy Mitchell and Elvin Jones.

These sessions gave the new arrivals, all of whom-with the exception of Jones-were 26 years of age or younger, an opportunity to work together under the auspices of the #1 jazz producer and recording engineer Alfred Lion and Rudy Van Gelder.

 Perhaps we can assume that Bob Weinstock heard these recordings which may have influenced his choice of musicians for some of these All-Star sessions. After all, to flip-flop an old saying in New York retailing during this era - Macy certainly wishes to know what Gimbal is up to.

These musicians were in the early stages of their careers in the big-time of New York City. They were, at this point, reasonably well-known in the City and had previously recorded under the pressure of the New York studios. The Prestige sessions allowed them to again come together, grow, develop and in a friendly way, challenge each other.

As an example of that growth, here is what Nat Hentoff had to say about Donald Byrd in his liner notes to Soul Junction which co-featured Coltrane and Byrd:

 “Donald Byrd is one young modernist who didn't allow early attention from the critics to push him into megalomania. Since coming to New York he has continued studying both at the Manhattan school in a wide variety of playing experiences. His work as in the opening blues has grown in strength and decisiveness from the fluent hummingbird quality that characterized him during his early months in New York.”

One can detect the growth that Hentoff refers to in the 11 months between his appearance on the All Night Long session of 12/28/1956 and the Soul Junction session of 11/15/1957.

The Detroit musicians were essentially the first generation of “Young Lions," preceding the Wynton Marsalis led group who arrived in the “Big Apple” 30 years later. The Prestige sessions also provided budding jazz composition writers with an opportunity to bring new works to a session or spontaneously compose them during the session and try out the piece immediately. It was shades of Duke Ellington’s approach where he would write a piece and then at the next destination, he could hear the band perform it during a rehearsal.

Here's Art Taylor (re: All Night Long session):

 “Hank Mobley was supposed to bring in two tunes but didn't. Instead he went to a far corner of the studio after his arrival and wrote the tunes out in about 10 minutes. This is something that has always amazed me because I have seen him do this on many record dates.”

The format for these sessions followed a similar pattern. One long blues (between 10 and 20 minutes) with all musicians taking solos; shorter pieces by other participants and an occasional standard. Given how well most of these sessions turned out, it's really a tribute to the participating musicians who had to learn new compositions in a very short period of time with no rehearsal time allotted by Weinstock and rarely a second take allowed.

Because none of the all-star sessions involved a working group with a group leader, each session had a nominal leader. At the Soul Junction and the All Morning Long sessions, the nominal leader was Red Garland. The other five sessions were led by Detroit musicians: Burrell (3), Flanagan (1) and Thad Jones (1). Flanagan, Burrell and Jones were not only excellent musicians but respected by other participants and possessed the demeanor necessary to deal with the difficulty of bringing musicians together on generally new material.

Drummer Arthur Taylor on Burrell's leadership at the All Day and All Night sessions:

 “(Burrell's) relaxed way is infectious. This can be related to the way he handled himself during these recording sessions. No matter what happened he always remained relaxed. Recording can be a very tedious thing because it's not like a concert or club. What you play is on wax forever. A musician can try extra hard because he is aware of this and wants to sound his best, therefore on the playback the sound might not be as relaxed as you want it to be. I'm sure Kenny was aware of this and his way of handling these avoided any such actions.”

 Despite the various strengths that the best of the Prestige All-Star Sessions exhibited, the availability of these recordings worldwide in all formats as (lp, digital, cassette, open reel) as reissues, beyond the original issues in 1957-58, has been modest. To illustrate, the record selling site, Discogs, lists 607 versions of Kind of Blue issued worldwide in all formats since its release in 1959. In contrast, for All Night Long, one of the best-selling of the all-star sessions, Discogs lists 37 versions and for Earthy only 11.

The seven sessions presented here, as well as others in the All-Star series have, over the past seven decades, likely served as representative entry points for countless curious, but uninitiated would-be jazz fans and musicians.

Interestingly, The Cats, All Night Long, Soul Junction, All Morning Long and After Hours were recently reissued on vinyl by Craft Records who now owns the masters of many classic jazz labels such as Prestige, Riverside, Contemporary, Milestone, Pablo, Debut, Galaxy, and Jazzland. Essentially, from the perspective of growing the market for jazz, Craft has both created demand and helped satisfy that demand through their reissue efforts.

Recent data has shown that the younger generation of teens and 20 something year-olds are now purchasing vinyl records and much of this is in the jazz genre. It’s heartening to realize that music produced by artists who were in their 20s in 1957, is now being purchased by and listened to by those who are two or even three generations removed from when this music was produced. 

Let's hope that the reissue series continues, as well as the renewed interest in jazz.  

Let the circle be unbroken.




















Tuesday, July 16, 2024

Dancing with the Duke: Ellington's Live Dance Albums By Steve Siegel

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

Dancing with the Duke: Ellington's Live Dance Albums By Steve Siegel

With previous features on pianist Wade Legge, the Great Day in Harlem Photograph “Mystery Man” - William J. Crump, drummer Frankie Dunlop, vocalist Jimmy Rushing, critic and author Nat Hentoff, Jazz Party: A Great Night In Manhattan featuring the Miles Davis Sextet, the Duke Ellington Orchestra, the September 9, 1958 fest that Columbia Records put on at the Plaza Hotel for its executives and guests, trumpeter Dupree Bolton, vocalist Helen Merrill, pianist Sonny Clark and bassist Doug Watkins, Steve Siegel has assumed the role of “unofficial” staff writer for JazzProfiles.

© -Steve Siegel copyright protected; all rights reserved; used with the author’s permission.

“Though there are other live recordings of the Ellington Orchestral dances (both pirated and through approved sources) available, I have chosen three recordings for this article, all on the basis of excellence - both aurally and in performance. Their inclusion is musical but based upon when they were recorded, they further serve as historical markers or jumping off points for a broader discussion of Ellington's place in a changing culture of big band dance performances over a three-decade period.

The general public's modernist view of the Duke Ellington Orchestra was greatly formed at Newport in 1956 with Paul Gonsalves’ 27 choruses and Elaine Anderson's flying blonde hair and little black dress convincing many that if Ellington's music was cool enough for the “jet set" then it was cool enough for them. With Newport as the catalyst, a reexamination of Ellington’s work began in academia as well as within the world of jazz criticism. As Ellington’s musical stature increased, it opened new venues for his orchestra to appear—many where few Afro-American jazz contingents had ever had access to. In the coming years it meant appearing less at high school auditoriums, American Legion halls and county fairs and more often at jazz festivals, places of worship, concert halls and clubs.

Recording Dances

Despite this newfound international acclaim, Ellington continued to book dances throughout the country. In just January of 1957, Ellington was booked at 13 dances, including at: Rochester, MN, Grinnell, IA, Dubuque, IA, Rolla, MO, Lincoln, NE (at the Lincoln Public School Administration Building) but also at Springfield, IL for the Inauguration party for the newly re-elected governor—estimated attendance was 6,000 to 10,000 people.

Duke Ellington’s discography spans the six decades in which he was active as well as the numerous reissues and previously undiscovered material in the 50 years since his passing. It contains every subgenre of jazz from ragtime to post-modern; every instrumental configuration from solo piano to symphony orchestra with chorus; every venue from studio to concert hall and from nightclub to places of worship, as well as all his collaborative albums with other famous artists. But live recordings of dances fill a miniscule segment of the discography. 

The explanation for the dearth of live recordings made at Ellington’s appearances at dances is primarily based on technological constraints. Previous to the introduction of magnetic tape technology around 1948, recordings were direct-to-disc acetates. Each acetate held 3-4 minutes of music per side and then had to be flipped over – generally in the middle of whatever composition was being recorded, which created a gap in the music. In the studio this limitation could be addressed by keeping the length of the recording to the desirable 3-4 minutes or pausing the performance while the acetate was flipped or replaced by another acetate. At dances though, Ellington would often play longer versions of the pieces which could create much difficulty for the recordist and a gap in the finished record for the purchaser.    

Other limiting factors included the difficulty of microphone placement in very poor acoustic spaces such as school gyms as well as the narrowness of the repertoire dictated by what the dancers were familiar with and that familiarity most likely came from the material already available on recordings that they had heard. So expected commercial gain for the record label from the dance recordings was compromised.

But perhaps the greatest hazard that might await any record company trying to document an Ellington appearance at a dance was Ellington's penchant for imposing little or no discipline on his men. Ellington was of the mind that to demand conformity off the bandstand could very well lead to a certain musical stasis on it. In essence he was willing to tolerate occasional late arrivals or a less than satisfactory performance from a musician (or even a section) who might have over-imbibed between sets, in exchange for the possibility of a magical night where it all comes together and the band catches fire.

Recordings made at dances are unique. The sterility of the recording studio is supplanted by an intimacy both heard and imagined by the listener. On the recordings, we might actually hear attendees whose voices indicate that they were very near the bandstand, possibly just a few feet from their musical heroes, shouting out requests for tunes and the ladies cooing to Ellington that they love him madly.

Also, unlike concerts where attendees sit quietly through a performance with most expecting a rendition that sounds very much like what they heard on an album, dancers listening to a big band primarily crave a beat that triggers a different set of synapses in the brain—one that transcends a tapping foot and engages the movement of the entire body. Therefore, the band can dig in and wail!

But the listener of the live recording can also use their imagination – perhaps visualizing newly acquainted couples rushing out to the dance floor to take advantage of Johnny Hodges playing a sensual ballad and then sneaking out into the darkness to get further acquainted; married folks reluctantly heading out to their vehicle to rush home because the babysitter has a midnight curfew. An entire range of human interactivity compartmentalized into the 40-minute playing time of a vinyl record. 

Ellington, for his part, enjoyed playing dances. He obviously made a living at it but he was always into the exotic and the erotic. He must have enjoyed watching from his perch at the piano as couples paired off. He must have found satisfaction in his ability to bring couples closer together by sequencing the music selections, eventually turning loose his “secret aphrodisiac,” Johnny Hodges and his alto sax. 

In 1944, at a Carnegie Hall concert, Ellington premiered a new piece entitled “Dancers in Love”— most likely conceived by his viewing the remnants of his audience still present in the wee small hours of the morning, clinging to one another on the dance floor during the last set of slow numbers played by the band. He most likely offered that piece up at some point in the last set. 

The Road

Much has been written about the grind road bands encounter playing one-night-stands, night after night. The audience at the dances care little about that and expect a first-rate performance.  The “road” creates hardships that musicians whose lives lead them down that highway learn to tolerate.  Hardships such as family issues back home affected Black as well as White bands equally. But lack of a “just” society created a unique situation where Black musical congregations were oftentimes unable to easily attend to their basic needs. White bands could stop anywhere, even in predominantly Black communities, where they could find respite from the road, grab a bite to eat, use the facilities and wander around to stretch their legs; all basic needs that Black bands were oftentimes denied access to and could even lead to dangerous confrontations—especially in the South.  

Hard to create art when a few hours previously you were told “Haul out of here because we don't serve no “n____s here!” 

The Ellington band eventually was able to avoid most of these hardships because their primary means of transport was generally by private Pullman car on a train.

Once arriving in town, the musicians generally might scatter to reacquaint with friends, families or perhaps paramours. This interaction was an important factor in establishing a sense of community for these nomads.

The challenges to the musicians of a live recording at a dance venue are less than exists at a live concert recording. Unlike a concert where the passive audience is comprised of listeners who generally expect to hear carbon copies of what they heard on records, dancers are active participants and in many ways a component of the performance art. Spontaneous improvisation of the musicians and the responses of the dancers creates, if you will, a feedback loop where the dynamic is that both parties spur the other on to a state of mutual creativity, with both dancers and musicians being freed up to take chances. Musicians hitting “clams" or dancers with tangled feet are forgiven. The oftentimes copious and mutual consumption of alcohol also leads to a more tolerant disposition of dancers and orchestra towards each other. 

The Recordings 

 So, the question is: how does one explain, in the face of all the challenges the road presents as well as the demands of an audience who are aurally as well as physically engaged, that occasionally, for no easily explicable reason, a road band pulls into some small, dreary little town, sets up on the bandstand and lays down an evening for the ages?

That question cannot be easily answered but luckily Ellington has left us with some sublime recorded examples (non-pirated) that provide the listener with just such musical outcomes. We will look at three of these. Each of these performances stand out based upon the recording quality, the band’s performance and the interaction between the band and the dancers. 

The three recordings are:

  1. Fargo, N.D., November 7, 1940 - The Crystal Ballroom, Original release: Duke Ellington at Fargo, 1940, Book-of-the-Month Records, 1978

  2. Carrolltown, Pa., June 1957 – The Sunset Ballroom, Original release:  Duke Ellington, All Star Road Band, 1984, Doctor Jazz, W2X39137

  3. Chicago, IL, May 31, 1964 – The Holiday Ballroom, Original release: Duke Ellington, All Star Road Band Volume 2, 1985, Doctor Jazz, W2X40012

Fargo 1940

Ever since the first high quality, readily available release of this dance in 1978 (it was released twice before, but in low quality with minimal distribution), this 1940 recording has justifiably been acclaimed as the definitive live dance recording of the Ellington band in peak form performing some of the finest compositions that Ellington had written up to that time. Why Fargo stands out among the many live appearances of Ellington’s various orchestral additions might be explained through the perfect alignment of a series of factors—some musical and some situational. 

The Place:

The band travelled from Winnipeg to Fargo by Pullman coach (225 miles). Jack Towers (more on him later) and Dick Burris were present with recording equipment. Between 600 and 800 people paid the $1.30 advance ticket price to see the show; they included North Dakota Agricultural College students. Burris had written to the William Morris Agency for permission to record the dance, and they okayed it if Ellington and the ballroom manager, Ralph Chinn, agreed. When Burris and Towers arrived, they saw the band members sitting around on-stage playing cards, not yet in their uniforms. They found Ellington who gave them permission, but couldn't understand why they would want it, saying the trumpets were in "bad shape." During the dance, band members propped their sheet music on satchels because there weren't any music stands. Lights reflected from the two-foot diameter glass ball hanging from the ceiling. (Martin Fredricks – Article in North Dakota State University Magazine, 2001)

The Time:

By late 1940 Ellington was in what has been described as an “Explosion of Genius" having completed most of the compositions that were to become classic pieces, many of which still hold up today as sounding fresh and modern. 35 compositions were released on the 3-record album (43 were recorded) with 17 of them being written between 1938 and 1940. Therefore, the material, though most likely played many times at other appearances, was well rehearsed but yet fresh enough that the musicians were not simply going through the motions as they might have done playing the “old war horses.”

Perhaps Ellington would have preferred to position more of his newer work into the dance. In the period 1938-40 he had recorded 96 new compositions for the Brunswick label, but much of the work from this period was not exactly “dance music" but music more appropriate for the concert stage. Therefore, in addition to the recent works, Ellington performed 26 older, more familiar pieces to appease the dancers.  

The Recording:

The primary recordist for the album was Jack Towers. Towers was to go on to be a much-lauded remastering engineer who specialized in taking acetates and tapes of older recordings and squeezing every last ounce of fidelity from them. But at the time of the Fargo dance, Towers was a young cooperative extension specialist assigned to North Dakota State University. He borrowed disk cutting equipment; this was about seven years before magnetic tape became feasible for recordings. Each acetate only held 4 minutes of music at best, that meant that he and Dick Burris had to flip the acetate over while the band was still playing. It was a remarkable effort on their part and the fidelity of the recording was rather amazing considering the technological limitations that existed in 1940. Part of the status afforded this recording must be attributed to Towers’ ability to clearly capture the event as well as his outstanding ability to so successfully remaster his original recording for the Book-of-the-Month and subsequent releases. You get the visceral impact of hearing actual instruments in a real acoustic place with the sounds of real people attending a dance.

Perhaps before or after Fargo, Ellington's orchestra may have played as well, if not better, at dances that were not recorded, but Tower was the right person at the right time in the right place to capture a representation of the Ellington band at its best.


Carrolltown 1957

The Sunset Ballroom was truly representative of the types of venues that the road had to offer Ellington. Carrolltown was a rather out of the way community located in central Pennsylvania about 100 miles east of Pittsburgh. The population in 1957 was approximately 1,500 with a great deal of the social and cultural life revolving around the Ballroom.

A Facebook page dedicated to the memory of the venue provides some history:

The Northern Cambria Railroad built the first building in Sunset Park which opened January 8, 1909. The building burned down November 2, 1967. During its heyday, the park was so popular that it had its own rail line into it and extra cars were added during special holidays and events. The place featured ethnic gatherings, sporting events, dances and all kinds of entertainment with people coming from miles around. It attracted big name bands such as Tommy Dorsey, Glenn Miller, Guy Lombardo and the original Ink Spots. The ballroom was often transformed into a skating rink, a basketball court or gymnasium. The mammoth hall was 80 feet wide and 150 feet long with 150,000 board feet of lumber used." 

The recording was again engineered by Jack Tower and produced by Bob Thiele for his Doctor Jazz label. The 16 years since Fargo had resulted in a mass turnover of personnel. Old stalwarts Nance, Hodges and Carney were the only members left from 1940. The repertoire had also changed with only “Stardust” and “Sophisticated Lady” appearing on both albums—probably a nod to the last slow set of the evening.

This band rose to the occasion much as had the 1940 band and played well throughout. Jack Tower, now having magnetic tape at his disposal, again did his usual fine job capturing the goings-on with great clarity, presence and accurate intonation. The only flaw in the stereo recording is that in the mixdown they positioned Duke, most instruments and the soloists in the left channel, with some instruments and the audience hard right, occasionally leaving a bit of a musical hole in the middle. Stereo was a new technology in 1957, so Tower might have recorded in monophonic and the stereo mix down of the tapes could have created the anomaly. 

Chicago 1964

The Holiday Ballroom was located in Jefferson Park on Milwaukee Avenue and opened in 1956. It was owned by a rather interesting character named Dan Belloc. His other pursuits included: A leader of a dance band, owner of Fraternity Records, co-author of the Nat King Cole hit “Pretend” and co-produced the Buckinghams’ big 1966 hit “Kind of a Drag.” 

Unlike Carrolltown, where the attendees had heard of the band members but few had ever met any of them, Chicago was a frequent stop for Ellington. One of his favorite clubs to spend a week at was Frank Holzfeind's Blue Note. Therefore, this booking was like a homecoming for the band to renew old acquaintances and many requests were honored.

This was a very different band than the one that appeared at Carrolltown. The only holdovers were Sam Woodyard and the entire reed section of Hodges, Carney, Gonsalves, Hamilton and Procope. Fortunately, some wayward band members had returned to the band—Cat Anderson, Lawrence Brown and Cootie Williams.

The playlist was more of a “Greatest Hits" presentation with four pieces reprised from Carrolltown and only two new pieces written since Carrolltown—"Guitar Amour” and “Silk Lace”—were included. Highlights include Paul Gonsalves but not necessarily on the perfunctory “Diminuendo and Crescendo” (which he does play but truncates to 6 minutes from the 11-minute Carrolltown performance) but on “Happy Go Lucky Local.” Ellington also does a deep dive into country/soul with the Don Gibson written, Ray Charles’ 1962 hit, “I Can't Stop Lovin' You.”

The John Gill-engineered recording quality is excellent and probably brings the listener deeper into the “you are there" perspective than either the Fargo or Carrolltown recordings would. And oh, by the way, the remix engineer was Jack Towers – making his third appearance over a span of 24 years on an Ellington live dance album. 

Changes 

Though Ellington may not have realized it at the time of Carrolltown but certainly did by Chicago, the time between the two recordings was, in some ways, representative of a continuation of a slow transition in Ellington’s fortunes (and his future itinerary) which began at Newport in 1956. This transition was driven by at least two forces at work. The first being the newfound relevance that Ellington gained coming out of Newport and the resultant contract with Columbia Records where he produced his best late period work and benefited greatly from Columbia’s promotional might and worldwide distribution.

The second factor magnified the impact of the first factor. 1957 was quite possibly the seminal year for the broad exposure and acceptance of rock and roll music. As such, the younger generation was quick to grab hold of their own music and, more substantially, their own culture. The music of their parents was not part of that new paradigm. Their parents’ generation, whose pre-television culture supported the idea of attending dances as fundamental entertainment, was growing older and were turning to television and perhaps listening to Ellington records on newly available console record players, instead of attending dances. 

By 1964, with the “British (rock and roll) Invasion” led by the Beatles in full swing, big band dances were becoming nostalgic re-creations of pre-war America.

As was previously mentioned, in January 1957 alone, Ellington appeared at 13 dances. By the Chicago recordings in 1964 the total of his appearances at dances in the first six months of the year was only five. Within the next year, booking dance gigs became increasingly rare.

So, the Doctor Jazz label recordings that Bob Thiele did with the Ellington band in 1957 and again in 1964 actually provided the bookends to the beginning of the end as well as the final curtain to the Ellington dance canon.

But Ellington was well fortified to survive these changes. Following the Newport triumph, Ellington was able to gradually shift away from dances and more into classy night clubs, upscale jazz clubs, places of worship (sacred concerts), concert halls, movie soundtracks, television, private parties, grand balls and commissions. No more school administration building gigs for Duke.

By 1965, the nightly grind of dances in small town after small town had virtually ended. The log for January 1965 reveals a very different daily routine than what had confronted the band even a year previously.

January 3 – Ellington receives the Musician of the Year award from the Philadelphia Academy of Music.

January 4 – The band plays a private party at the toney Delmonico's in NYC, described by Dorothy Kilgallen in her syndicated column as hosting “Celebrities by the score.”

January 5 – A taping session for The Bell Telephone Hour television program. For this appearance Ellington was compensated $11,000 ($109,000 in 2024 dollars).

January 11 – Inaugural Ball for Illinois Governor Otto Kerner

January 14 – Dance, Swallows Restaurant, Ashtabula, Ohio

January 25 – Orchestra flew out of JFK Airport bound for Paris for a one-month tour of Europe.

And so it went for Ellington for the next nine years of his life, as accolades poured in and honorary doctorate degrees were bestowed upon him. 

Change was always a constant. From the ragtime he heard as a child to hearing The Original Dixieland Jass Band's recording of “Livery Stable Blues” in February of 1917, when Ellington was 17 years old. Next, moving to NYC at age 26 for the Kentucky Club gig with his band, The Washingtonians, which led to his Cotton Club gigs. What eventually followed had an influence on the entire evolution of American music as he and his band traveled the world engaging people of all cultures and languages through his music and abundant curiosity of their way of life.

One must wonder if in his later years in a nostalgic mood, in his private thoughts, how he might have done a reassessment of the grind of the one-nighters. 

Sitting in Harry Carney's Imperial automobile, riding through the Midwestern Plains in the beauty of the early morning, manuscript paper often in hand for composing his next piece, bound for the next dance in some small town, might seem to us to possess a great deal of romanticism. But after all the years of struggle to keep his instrument, which was the band itself, alive, money and fame must have offered a special kind of allure for Ellington. I wonder if Ellington ever had cause to speculate, if a choice must be made between the endless “one-nighters” or the life he actually lived in the post 1964 period, which one might he choose? I’m not entirely sure that the choice would be as easy as one might think.”

A special thanks to all the researchers who contributed to the outstanding website, “The Duke - Where and When.” http://tdwaw.ca/