"Nothing New In Quincy, But ..." By BILL MATHIEU

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

At the time of this article’s publication in the January 7, 1960 issue of Down Beat, Bill Mathieu was a young (22) Chicago arranger who spent 1959 as a staff writer for the Stan Kenton orchestra. For three months of '59, he played trumpet with the orchestra as well. An album of his arrangements by the Kenton orchestra, titled Silhouettes of Standards, was due for release by Capitol in the next few months.

Mathieu was not new to the writing of words, however. Born into a publishing family — his father retired recently as publisher of the Farm Quarterly, Writer's Digest, and Writer's Yearbook — he wrote music criticism all through his years as a student at the University of Chicago.

This perceptive criticism on the music of Quincy Jones was his first appearance in Down Beat.

To locate more information about Bill and what he is up to these days, please visit his website at www.coldmountainmusic.com.

Of course, Quincy has gone on to a legendary career in the music business and you can “keep Up With Q” by visiting him at his website - www.quincy jones.com.

“Wherever there is an artistic tradition, there are artists within it who are culminators (those who take what has been said in the past and re-say it more completely than anyone before them) and there are artists who are innovators (those who break from the tradition which spawned them). Both kinds of artists are rare, but the culminators are the rarest, for it is through them that a culture's expression reaches its highest point of maturity.

Among a culminator's attributes must be empathy and respect for tradition, clairvoyance, and simple good taste. It is the last quality — taste — that is the most difficult to come by.

Now jazz is largely a music of immediate, sensual, emotional release, especially Negro jazz, which is generally less restrained, more flamboyant. The value of Quincy Jones lies in this: he has come up with the perfect combination — a tasteful, cumulative application of the elements of a tradition rich in its unrestrained emotional appeal.

Quincy Jones is, both by his own description and by the nature of his music, a culminator rather than an innovator. His music contains nothing new; rather, it contains nearly everything of value that has been done before.

But this viewpoint, even coupled as it is with his excellent taste, is not enough to make his music as good as it is. The deciding factor is that Quincy is not only of but also beyond his tradition; beyond, I believe, because he has more information, a greater knowledge, a farther horizon, than most of the men who created that idiom from which he draws. These are the qualities (as I mentioned) which allow an artist to become the ultimate expression of his history.

SOME MUSICAL EVIDENCE

Listen to Whisper Not (a beautiful piece, analysis or no analysis) on Quincy's Birth of a Band album (Mercury MG 20444). Right after the normal exposition of the tune, there is what seems at first to be a little coda orchestrated for unison saxes and cup-muted trumpet, a perfect instrumental echo of Zoot Sims' sound. Then Sims begins to play, and what we thought was a kind of coda now is seen to have been an opening of the door for the soloist, an ideal bridge between the written counterpoint of the exposition and the improvised homophony of the development.

But the beauty lies not so much in the device as in the rapport between the improvisor and the writer's interpretation of the improvisor.

Here is another example, more lovely than the first and proportionately more difficult to describe. First listen to Clifford Brown's solo on Stockholm Sweetnin' (Prestige LP 167). Then listen to the same tune on the big band recording (ABC-Paramount 149). On the latter disc, with infinite reverence, Clifford's earlier solo is orchestrated. If there has ever been a synthesis between the emotional freedom of jazz on the one hand and cerebral, conscious, esthetic control on the other, here it is. The result is the last word to be said from either point of view.

HOW TO GO COMMERCIAL WITHOUT LOSING YOUR MIND

When a truly good writer has to write a commercial arrangement, even if the content of the music is terrible, the results are usually worth listening to. Strangely enough, Quincy's commercial writing shows off his technical skills to better advantage than does his serious work. His orchestrational abilities are prodigious. For a lesson in commercial (or any) orchestration listen to the record he made with Eddie Barclay's band in France (United Artists UAS 6023). The combinations of timbres, the balance of the instruments, the great concern for the musical integrity of each voice (try to pick out the second or third harmony parts to see what I mean), the careful unfolding of the arrangements, all these are most recognizable in this particular album. Another thing which makes this record especially valuable to arrangers is that there are very few improvised solos — that is, the written arrangement must sustain interest over an extended period of time. Any arranger who has suffered the pain that this problem can cause will be interested in Quincy's settings of these 10 insipid French popular songs.

SO?

In all of Quincy's writing there is not one sound that has not been heard dozens of times before. In fact, the very essence of his work becomes clear when we realize that what we are hearing is not a new invention, but a fresh reiteration of the past, a distillation of what has gone before. Because of this culminative approach, this composer means more to us than pleasant diversion. Those of us who are interested in the historical development of jazz can discern in this music a summing up, a tying together of many loose ends, a step altogether necessary before the next forward step occurs.

All is not praiseworthy in the writing of Quincy Jones. There are many breaches of taste (horrid ending chords, for example) many overworked, meaningless cliches (orchestrated pyramids built on perfect fourths). But the amazing thing is that his work misses the mark so seldom.

It is impossible to say whether Quincy Jones will continue his career from this present point of view. There is something in his music, some kind of restlessness, uneasiness, which suggests that the culminator and the innovator will be realized in the same man. Perhaps some day Quincy will begin to feel the weight of the chains which bind him to his tradition. Perhaps not. But whatever his future, he has already done the world a service.”

Looking back at Bill’s concluding remark about Quincy from the vantage point of 2016, one might be tempted to say that it was the epitome of understatement.

Crime - Nueva Manteca - 'Salsa y Suspense'

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

What more could you ask for than new music from the supremely talented Latin Jazz Band - Nueva Manteca?

Based in Holland, the band has been together for over 25 years and is highly respected in Latin Jazz circles for the authentic way in which they perform Afro-Cuban Jazz rhythms and the consistently high quality of its musicianship.

Over the years of existence, Nueva Manteca has had some personnel changes, particularly on the front line which has changed from a two trumpet and sax format to the current configuration of trombone, sax and guitar.

However, throughout these changes, three musicians have remained to anchor the rhythm section: Jan Laurens Hartong, piano, Nils Fischer, conga and percussion and Lucas van Merwijk, drum set and timbales.

The band has always been tight with a driving, controlled pulse and its cohesive rhythm section is primarily responsible for this and for the lively and energetic sound of the band. One would be hard pressed to find musicians more knowledgeable of the conventions, forms and rhythms of Latin Jazz than Jan Laurens, Lucas and Nils. The are literally an Afro Cuban Jazz tower-of-power.

Having worked with Lucas for many years in other settings, Jeroen Vierdag on bass adds punch and punctuation to the Nueva Manteca’s rhythm section allowing the band to loosen up a bit while he “stays home” with the beat.

Ben van den Dungen has been with the band almost since its inception and his Coltranesque tone on both tenor and soprano sax adds a certain harmonic complexity to the band’s sound. Ben’s very modern approach to improvisation along with that of master trombonist Ilja Reijngoud and the electronic guitar stylings of Ed Verhoeff can be said to be responsible for much of the “sound of nueva” in Nueva Manteca.

You can locate order information about the new CD be going here. It is also available as an Mp3 download at Amazon and at CDBaby.

Here are Jan Laurens Hartong’s insert notes to the new recording.

CRIME

“Nueva Manteca has developed a reputation over the years for its ability to surprise its audience with refreshing different musical points-of-departure.

As so it is once again with its new project called Crime which consists of Afro Cuban arrangements of themes from famous crime and gangster music. Can you imagine the theme of the Godfather in a Cuban rumba Guaguancó? This approach creates music that you immediately recognize but have never heard played in this manner. A perfect combination of recognition and surprise!

NUEVA MANTECA - CRIME! was recorded in performance at Hef Klooster, Woerden, The Netherlands, 2014.

Jan Laurens Hartong, the group’s founder, pianist and primary composer-arranger contributed these inserts notes to the latest CD.

"With this recording Nueva Manteca makes you an offer you can't refuse."

A surprisingly large amount of the best film music has been written for Crime movies and TV series. The names of some of its greatest composers immediately come to mind: Ennio Morricone, Nino Rota, Dave Grusin. This 12th Nueva Manteca album Crime! could also have been aptly titled 'Salsa y Suspense' instrumental Salsa that is. The crime movie genre heightens a viewer's mood and level of anticipation. Essential characteristic elements in its music are: suggestion, shock, surprise and suspense.

Some of these elements are also an essential aspect of the artistry of Ahmad Jamal whose approach appears at times to be similar to that of a film director.

As indicated earlier, Nueva Manteca, inspired by the work of Jamal, generally approaches songs more as a 'compositional device' which allows for interpretations whereby the song becomes a story comprised of edited musical scenes in the form of heads, intros, interludes, solo choruses, outros. Much like film editing. In this way each musical scene contributes to the progress of the story of the song.

A good example of this filmic approach is our arrangement of The Godfather theme. An opening melody is stated immediately after which comes a montuno vamp with a conga solo , followed by a return of the initial melody. Then comes the principal theme. An interlude precedes solo sections for trombone and piano and towards the end a new melody appears. It is the beloved refrain melody of the song "Caruso" Italy's tribute to the immortal opera singer. All the different parts of the arrangement are edited and so combined to form a whole.

With this approach we have attempted to shed 'new light' on some of the best-known Crime film music.

In addition to the The Godfather theme, Nino Rota's "Michael's Theme" from Coppola’s film masterpiece is presented here as a cha cha cha; its pensive mood beautifully rendered by our guitarist. A slow Guajira closes the arrangement.

Ciao City, an original composition, was inspired by the great TV series BoardWalk Empire about the rise and fall of Atlantic City.

The cop TV show of Baantjer was an instant success in Holland, its main title song "Circle of Smiles" made famous by harmonica virtuoso Toots Thielemans, It is here presented as a solo piano prelude after which the band kicks in.

The 'sneaking-up-from-behind' theme song of Baretta - one of the most famous police series of the 70's - challenged us to try some Latin Funk.

The gorgeous Deborah's Theme from the film Once Upon A Time In America is Morricone at his best. Reason enough to keep our version as basic and simple as

possible.

From the West Side Story comes I like to be in America cast in a catchy arrangement by the inventive pianist Marc Bischoff who gave the melody an intriguing 6/8 twist.

Dave Grusin composed the wonderfully haunting theme song of Mulholland Falls, a crime movie which, strangely enough, never appeared in Dutch movie theaters. Here we used several different grooves for different parts of the song.

'O Sole Mio, the old immortal Neapolitan song is here performed in a fast-paced arrangement seasoned with contemporary flavor and contrasting nostalgic old-fashioned horn lines. A Cuban-style montuno vamp rounds it all off.

Tatort is a famous European police TV drama which is still running. It's 'in your face' theme song was composed by the nestor of German Jazz saxophone, Klaus Doldinger.

Finally, I extend my heartfelt thanks and deep appreciation to the band members whose unique artistry has made this music corne to life.

Many thanks also go to Michel BAM Grens initiator/producer/director/editor/grading/authoring and Jan-Willem Stekelenburg recording sound engineer for believing in us and making this production possible.

Hope you like our album as much as we enjoyed making it.”

Jan Laurens Hartong

Credits:

I like to be in America arranged by Marc Bischoff

The Godfather theme arranged by Jan Hartong in cooperation with pianist Piero Bianculli.

All other arrangements by Jan Hartong

Line up Nueva Manteca            

Jan Laurens Hartong - piano    

Ben van den Dungen - sax       

llja Reijngoud - trombone        

Ed Verhoeff - guitar                  

Jeroen Vierdag - bass              

Nils Fischer - percussion          

Lucas van Merwijk - drums      

Paul Bley: 1932-2016

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

“You're telling human beings that they can trust their intuitions to create forms, rather than need forms in which to create intuitions….”

We're talking about a lot of personal work, rather than taught, or learned, work. We strike out for unknown territory. That's what improvising is all about. If the territory is known, it's not that interesting. That's my bias.

- Paul Bley, Jazz pianist

VOICE: “Why do they call you ‘Mr. Joy?’

MR. JOY: “Because I’m unhappy about a lot of things.”

VOICE: “What are you unhappy about?”

MR. JOY: “I’m unhappy about trying to get music to sound the way I want it to sound, about trying to get life to go the way I want it to go, and generally unhappy about the whole thing.”

- Insert notes to Play Bley’s Mr. Joy [Limelight LS 86060]

At one point in my “life in music,” I gave a lot of thought to the above-quotations from the liner notes to Paul Bley’s LP Mr. Joy [Limelight LS 86060].

Even after I left music to pursue other interests, I held onto and tried to model aspects of my professional life around Paul’s notion of “... telling human beings that they can trust their intuitions to create forms, rather than need forms in which to create intuitions….”

I finally did reach a point in my career when I trusted my intuitions to create forms and it was the most rewarding time for me in the World-of-Work in particular and in my life in general.

Paul Bley died on 3 January 2016 and the editorial staff at JazzProfiles wanted to remember him on these pages with the following obituary from The Telegraph, a British daily morning English-language broadsheet newspaper, published in London.

“Paul Bley, the pianist and composer, who has died aged 83, was a moving spirit in the “free jazz” revolution of the 1960s and an animating force in the jazz avant-garde.

In the course of his 60-year career he worked with, and influenced, many of the most prominent and innovative jazz artists of the time, and recorded more than 100 albums of his own.

Hyman Paul Bley was born in Montreal on November 10 1932. He took up the piano at the age of eight and was playing semi-professionally as a teenager. At 17 he followed the local piano hero, Oscar Peterson, into a regular weekend gig. From 1950, he studied at the Juilliard School in New York, but returned regularly to Montreal to accompany visiting jazz stars including Charlie Parker and Sonny Rollins.

While in New York, Bley took part in jazz workshop sessions, at one of which he so impressed the bassist Charles Mingus that, in 1953, he set up Bley’s first recording date, with himself on bass and Art Blakey on drums. The record was titled Introducing Paul Bley.

Bley was still playing in the modern jazz style of the day when he moved to Los Angeles in 1957, to play with Chet Baker. It was here that he first heard Ornette Coleman, then completely unknown. Coleman’s alto, saxophone playing broke all the conventions of rhythm, harmony and form which were then deemed essential but it made sense to Bley. He assembled a band of like-minded players around Coleman and presented it at a small club, the Hillcrest. Their subsequent album, The Shape of Jazz to Come, marked the beginning of a whole new phase in the history of jazz.

In the same year, Bley married an aspiring jazz pianist and composer, Carla Borg, then working as a waitress. In 1959 they moved back to New York, where Bley made a point of featuring his wife’s compositions. Although they later divorced, Carla Bley went on to become one of the most original and admired jazz composers of the late 20th century.

Bley formed his first permanent trio in 1963. Once again, convention was overturned. Instead of sticking to their traditional roles of providing rhythmic and harmonic groundwork, the bass (Steve Swallow) and drums (Pete LaRocca) were free to move independently. Some of this freedom has gradually found its way into the playing of otherwise quite straightforward piano trios nowadays. The trio’s album Footloose is still regarded as a classic.

In 1964, now an acknowledged innovator, Bley was a founder-member of the Jazz Composers’ Guild, a kind of revolutionary cell, which helped launch the careers of young players such as Cecil Taylor, Archie Shepp, Michael Mantler and Sun Ra.

Electronic instruments, notably synthesisers, made their appearance towards the end of the 1960s and Bley was among the first to explore their possibilities. He gave one of the first live electronic concerts, using a portable Moog , at New York’s Symphony Hall in 1968.

His solo piano album Open To Love, recorded for the German ECM label in 1972, with its free-flowing improvisation, had much in common with Keith Jarrett’s hugely popular solo concert recordings for the same company. Although different in approach, the mutual influence is unmistakeable. In later years Bley returned to ECM, one of the most impressive albums being Play Blue, from a solo concert recorded in Oslo in 2008 and released in 2014.

In an interview around that time, Bley described sustained improvisation of this kind as a process of discovery, “to know something at the end of it that you didn’t know at the beginning”.

Paul Bley was appointed a member of the Order of Canada in 2008.

He was twice married. He leaves two daughters by his second marriage and one daughter by a partnership with the pianist and composer Annette Peacock.

Paul Bley, born November 10 1932, died January 3 2016.”

Francis Wolff - The Gift

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

It is amazing to reflect back on the halcyon days of “modern” Jazz [1945-1965] without seeing it through imagery brought to mind by the photography of Francis Wolff. Without his work, many of the Jazz musicians that created the iconic Blue Note recordings from this period would be shrouded in obscurity.

Of course, Chuck Stewart, Herman Leonard, William Gottlieb, Bob Parent and many other skillful photographers were also making artistic contributions to Jazz Imagery at this time.

But their work did not emphasize the relaxed, informal and nonchalant qualities that featured so prominently in the photographs that Francis Wolff took during Blue Note recording sessions, many of which would prominently displayed on the label’s album covers.

What came out of Francis art was an almost introspective view of Jazz musicians dynamically exposed in the act of creation.

Francis Wolff gave us the gift of knowing what many, if not all,  of the musicians who created this marvelous music looked like while they were at work.

Yet, for all he did to make these Jazz musicians less obscure, surprisingly little is known of Francis Wolff or his life.

Born in Berlin in 1907 or 1908, he enjoyed a comfortable childhood in an environment of academia and the arts.  His father, a university mathematics professor, had earned a substantial amount of money on investments. His mother was reputed to be something of a Bohemian and imbued Frank with a taste for the modern and iconoclastic. By his teens, Frank had already discovered his lifelong loves: photography and jazz. At 15, he met Alfred Lion, who lived in the same neighborhood. Alfred was immediately struck by Wolff's worldly, cosmopolitan style of dress. Their shared passion for the new music called jazz was the foundation of a lifelong friendship.

After studying photography in Berlin, Wolff formed a partnership with Lion to buy jewelry wholesale and sell it in Spain. Fortunately for the future of jazz, this short-lived venture was a failure. In 1933, Lion moved on to South America and eventually to New York. Despite the rise of Nazi activity in Germany, Wolff, a Jew, stayed in Berlin, collecting records and pursuing a successful career as a photographer. When the danger became unavoidable, he caught the last direct boat from Berlin to New York in October 1939.

Frank moved into Alfred's small apartment, which was also the office and warehouse for the ten-month-old Blue Note Record label. As Blue Note grew, Frank managed its business affairs. Although photography was no longer his career, he lent his considerable skills to documenting the next twenty-eight years of historic Blue Note recording sessions.

Wolff was a shy, soft-spoken, and extremely private man, content to remain in the shadow of his dynamic partner. His contributions to Blue Note however, were considerable and crucial.

When Alfred Lion retired in 1967, Frank assumed the role of record producer, and his photographic activity ceased. He stayed at the helm of Blue Note until he died of a heart attack following surgery on March 8, 1971.

Joe Castro - On Sunnyside

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

Joe Castro Box Set Tells Fascinating Story

“Jazz fans who have never heard of Joe Castro might wonder why Sunnyside Records is releasing a six-CD box set of the late pianist's music. It's a valid question, acknowledges Daniel Richard, the veteran producer who assembled Lush Life: A Musical Journey after shepherding  similar  collections  for  Abbey Lincoln, Charlie Haden and Chet Baker.

It's not as if Castro is an undiscovered Bud Powell or Horace Silver, but he was a likable pianist who made some fascinating recordings with the likes of Zoot Sims, Chico Hamilton, Billy Higgins and Teddy Edwards. Those tapes are released for the first time on the new box set.

A working-class, Mexican-American kid, Castro was a Duke Ellington and Stan Kenton fan who made his living playing in pop-swing bands around the Bay Area. In 1951, at age 23, his band 3 Bees and a Queen was hired to play the Fireman's Carnival in Honolulu. Attending one of his shows was Doris Duke, then a 38-year-old tobacco heiress described in the gossip columns of the day as "the richest girl in the world."

Duke was smitten by the good-looking Castro and they soon became an item. Despite a few breakups, they were together for the next 15 years. Duke, a jazz fan who had taken piano lessons from Teddy Wilson, set up recording studios stocked with Steinway pianos and fine wines at her mansions in Hawaii, California and New Jersey. The facilities and Duke's clout attracted many famous musicians for jam sessions with Castro at the keys. Some of the best of those sessions make up the first four discs on the new box set.

Sometimes Castro was just the engineer, recording sessions such as the wonderful 1955 tracks by Wilson with an especially lyrical Stan Getz. More often Castro was the house pianist, jamming in 1956 with Zoot Sims, Lucky Thompson and Oscar Pettiford, or rehearsing a new quartet in 1959 with tenor saxophonist Teddy Edwards, bassist Leroy Vinnegar and drummer Billy Higgins.

It would be inaccurate to say that Castro dominated these sessions, but he certainly wasn't out of place. He was grounded in swing-era rudiments, but he was also interested in bebop and even free-jazz.

Duke also funded a record label, Clover Records, for Castro to run. The fledgling company recorded the Joe Castro Big Band, the Joe Castro Trio (with Paul Motian), the Teddy Edwards Tentet and singers Anita O'Day and Kitty White. Despite Duke's millions, however, the label folded, releasing only the first of two big-band records and the first of two albums recorded by White. The second big-band project and Edwards' three-trombone Tentet make up the fifth and sixth discs in the new box.

"Joe was in a tough position," Richard said. "Doris' money opened a lot of doors for him, but when jazz musicians talked about him, they didn't talk about him as a jazz musician but as Doris Duke's friend."

Castro and Duke broke up for good in 1966. Castro married singer Loretta Haddad and went on to live a quiet life in Los Angeles and Las Vegas. Just before he died in 2009, he approached Sunnyside about releasing his private tapes. His son James helped Richard reassemble the pieces of a forgotten story. Richard is constructing a musical chronology online at http://wwwjoecastrojazz.com./

As reported by Geoffrey Himes

Downbeat

January 2016