Wednesday, September 5, 2018

CuberQuest - Ronnie Cuber on Steeplechase

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


“Every so often, I get caught up in the music of someone who floors me;  who - metaphorically - knocks me out.


Sometimes this involves a Jazz musician whose work is new to me.


But more often than not, these epiphanies usually happen when it’s the music of a musician that I am familiar with but whose discography I haven’t fully explored. But once I go for depth, I’m hooked and the more I dig the deeper I get into the power and passion of a particular player.


This pathology deepens and results in a gleeful quest to get my hands on anything and everything by the artist who is bringing so much joy into my Jazz listening life.


The source for my astonishment and wonderment with a given Jazz musician usually centers on what he or she is “saying” in their improvisations.


You hear it first in the phrasing and with the ready expression of ideas while soloing. Jazz soloing is like the geometric head start in the sense that you never catch up. When you improvise something it’s gone; you can’t retrieve it and do it again. You have to stay on top of what you are doing as Jazz is insistently progressive – it goes forward with you or without you.


People who can play the music, flow with it. Their phrasing is in line with the tempo, the new melodies that they superimpose over the chord structures are interesting and inventive and they bring a sense of command and completion to the process of creating Jazz.


Which brings me to baritone saxophonist, Ronnie Cuber.


Born on Christmas Day in 1941, Ronnie has been the source of a lot of musical holiday gifts for the past 77 years since his first “public” appearance with the Marshall Brown Youth Orchestra at the 1959 Newport Jazz Festival.
Although, Ronnie did make some recordings under his own name for labels including Don Schlitten’s Xanadu, Orrin Keepnews at Milestone and the Electric Bird/King Record label in Japan, he didn’t really step into the solo spotlight until he began a long and continuing association in 1992 with Nils Winthur’s Steeplechase Records which is based in Denmark.”


Over the 25 years since 1992, Ronnie has recorded six CDs for Steeplechase and they represent the most mature and comprehensive expression of his music.”
- Steve Cerra, JazzProfiles

[Winner of the 2025 Jazz Journalist Association Special Citation for Historic Writings, Steven Cerra is a professional Jazz drummer and the author of anthologies on Gerry Mulligan, Bill Evans, Stan Kenton, Dave Brubeck, Shelly Manne, Jazz West Coast Readers Vols. 1-3, Profiles in Jazz, Vol.1, Jazz Drummers Vols. 1-2, Jazz Saxophonists, Vol. 1, 2 & 3, and Jazz Piano, Vols. 1, 2 & 3. He also hosts the jazzprofiles.blogspot and cerra.substack blogs.]



The first of these - Ronnie Cuber Quartet - Airplay [Steeplechase label SCCD 31309] appeared in an earlier post that kicked of my CuberQuest.


This posting will consist of annotation about the remaining five [a 6th - At Scullers - is due for release on November 15, 2018]. [In the interest of completeness, we have position our initial posting about Airplay at the conclusion of this piece].


Three years later in 1995, Airplay was followed by In A New York Minute [Steeplechase SCCD 31372]. The insert notes for all of Ronnie’s Steeplechase recordings are by by the brilliant Jazz writer Mark Gardner. Each offers an excellent overview of Ronnie’s career, some thou of the baritone sax in general and Ronnie’s style and influences in particular and comments about the musicians and the music on these recordings.


“Baritone saxophonist Ronnie Cuber's first Steeplechase date. Airplay (SCCD 31309), offered a programme of mainly originals by the leader, emphasising his value as a composer as well as a potent soloist. In the enclosed set, taped exactly three years later, Ronnie is back with a completely different accompanying trio and a nice blend of further Cuber tunes plus some well known classics.


On this session Ronnie underlined his penchant for the bebop style of playing that he studied and absorbed so well many years ago. Mastering this particular form was difficult for all instrumentalists, but especially so for trombonists and baritone players because the nature of those horns makes them less flexible. Ronnie took his cue from such nimble exponents as Cecil Payne and Pepper Adams, while also listening attentively to tenor saxophonists like John Coltrane and Hank Mobley.


But he was never one to be over-influenced, sensibly realising that he needed to find his own path. This he did early in his career and became a complete individualist, a natural successor to the late and great Leo Parker whose tone was the forerunner of the Cuber sound.


His quartet for the aptly titled In A New York Minute, brought together the admirable Kenny Drew Jr., whose playing grows ever more distinctive and personal with the passage of time, bass player Andy McKee and drummer Adam Cruz. Andy and Adam are no strangers having worked together in the Mingus Big Band.


McKee has been on the scene since the late 1970s when he played bass with Walt Dickerson and recorded for Steeplechase. Subsequently he worked with Philly Joe Jones, Elvin |ones, Billy Harper, Michel Petrucciani and many other prominent jazz figures.


Cruz has established himself during the 1990s via engagement with the Charlie Sepulveda Band, Hilton Ruiz, Paquito D'Rivera, Leon Parker and David Sanchez. He has performed on occasion with James Moody, McCoy Tyner and Ronnie Cuber.


The quartet jelled well, infusing the music with urgency and excitement while retaining melodic appeal and subtle touches. The inclusion of a brace of Ellington evergreens, a fine song by Johnny Mandel and a Miles Davis melody that should be aired more often provides ample evidence of Cuber's taste and understanding of the wider jazz repertoire. His own pieces are well conceived and resolved with plenty of harmonic interest.


In full cry, Cuber is rugged, direct and inventive. But in ballad vein he is capable of a delicate finesse and great tenderness. All his work is characterised by tremendous warmth and is totally free of pretension.


Dig, first recorded by Miles Davis on one of the pioneer long playing sessions back in 1951, is MD's clever variation on the Sweet Georgia Brown changes. Ronnie knows this territory intimately and his elaborations are filled with bop spirit and hipness. Kenny is right on the ball with his contribution and Adam adds some percussive points.


The engaging In A New York Minute turns out to be a most attractive Cuber line. Kenny shows touch and dexterity that were so much admired in his father's work. Note Ronnie's soft and subtle riffs during the piano solo, and then his gutsy and soulful wailing as the Minute ticks on. Don't be surprised if you find yourself shouting a "yeah" or two as the temperature rises! Andy keeps the time moving in true New York fashion right to the close.


Con Passion was well named by composer Cuber for it has that air of hot-blooded romanticism, emphasised by the moving introduction. When the tempo starts to pop, Senor Cuber makes the big horn sing and sigh, laugh and cry, sweeping all before him. Kenny's segment sparkles and ripples with not a cliche in sight. Ronnie pours the love on again and bows out with stately grace.


His third compositional offering, Bu's Beat, is fastish modal stuff with nice modulations and a sting in the tail. The baritone's sounds so smoothly propelled and beautifully controlled that I was immediately reminded of the elegance of Cecil Payne in full sail. Kenny shifts easily too and is again prompted by bursts from the bari as the beat rolls inexorably forward. Neat solos are additionally supplied by the double A team of Andy and Adam (sweet thunder from him). Fade Down - to infinity.


Entering the familiar contours of Sophisticated Lady, perhaps Ronnie was thinking of Webster, Hodges, Carney and all the other great saxophonists who populated Duke's bands. He draws his portrait with respect and appreciation and no little lyricism. Similar sensitivity and insight are applied by Drew, whose touch is captured beautifully by engineer Josiah Cluck. A lovely coda from Ronnie is a fine finishing touch.


For Bari and Bass, a lively line, allows Cuber to show his nimble technique and imagination in impressive harness as he beeps and bops in an extended outing in which his inspiration never wanes for a split-second. It is an immensely impressive demonstration of his creative powers. Kenny trips through the changes deftly. Bass gets its chance too, in keeping with the title with Andy responding effectively. Ronnie makes it a long and delightful goodbye.


12/8 Thang, the final Cuber piece in this set, finds him at his most earthy and bluesy and wailing well to boot. Drew catches the mood and digs into a downhome groove to deliver a righteous sermon, clearly relishing the rhythmic lope. McKee reaches for his bow to deliver a resonant arco solo. The leader leads out his troops in flourishing fashion. A good thang was had by all!


Mandel's Waltz Emily comes up fresh and sweet in the sympathetic hands of Mr. Cuber, who injects more than a few surges of adrenalin, to make Emily swing as she dances. Kenny clearly enjoys these changes and this melody to judge from his luminous improvisation.


The Juan Tizol Caravan has been padding across white hot desert sands for many a decade. Ronnie and company join the expedition en route to the next green oasis, but in their version those camels are really going! Kenny and Ronnie press on with all speed, serving up a brace of scintillating solos. Adam's percussive paces are displayed effortlessly and Ronnie's big-toned return indicates that the palm trees are on the horizon. And that ain't no mirage!


The end of another most impressive, highly musical and thoroughly absorbing album by the resourceful Ronnie Cuber. Fortunately in these technological times you only need to touch a button lo re-live the entire experience. Something you will find yourself doing many times, I'll wager.”
  • Mark Gardner, (Co-author, The Blackwell Guide To Recorded fazz)


The following year [1996], Steeplechase owner-operator Nils Winther followed with another CD by Ronnie emphasizing a New York motif in the form of N.Y.C.ats  [[SCCD-31394] on which Cuber is joined by trumpeter Ryan Kisor, pianist Michael Weiss, bassist Andy McKee and drummer Tony Reedus.


Mark Gardner once again does the honors with these insightful and instructive insert notes.


“The harilone saxophone is a demanding mistress. Large, heavy, unyielding, it  places greater demands on it’s select hand of practitioners than the smaller relatives in the sax family. But the gruff sonorities of the instrument have exerted, a siren song over the relatively few willing to impose their will and skill on the intractable horn. Within the specialised idiom of jazz, the boss baritones are a highly select hunch. Bui where would we be without them?  In large ensembles they are the foundation and fulcrum of the brass and reed sections, the "body” in the "wine".


Not surprisingly, most of the master exponents of the reeds' big daddy have graduated to this sax from either clarinet, alt osax or both. Gerry Mulligan and Pepper Adams being somewhat of the exceptions since they switched over from tenor. Wonderful players like Harry Carney. Cecil Payne and Sahib Shihab were all very proficient alto saxophonists before opting for baritone, often out of necessity. In Payne's case it was the offer of a chair with ihe Roy Eldridge band. Leo Parker, in many respects the precursor of Ronnie Cuber. the subject of this CD. was another convert from alto. As for Serge Chaloff. he stepped straight from clarinet to baritone at the age of 12 and rarely touched another horn.


Another peculiarity of the baritone breed is that the majority of them. Ronnie included along with his friend Nick Brignola. taught themselves the mysteries, peculiarities and specifics of the bs. As Chaloff observed: "Who could teach me? I couldn’t follow Carney all around the country. " So each of these men - Cuber like his eminent predecessors - had to find their own route through this learning labyrinth. Maybe that is why the baritone has spawned such an individual bunch of practitioners, each with a distinct tone and personal methodology.


In that respect, Ronnie Cuber belongs to a small and distinguished tradition. While all the bebop and post-bop baritones cite Carney as the first maestro of tone and timbre and admired his nimble technique, his rhythmic perception lacked sophistication and in this area and the matter of harmonic perception, the younger men turned to Lester Young and Charlie Parker for inspiration. Chaloff and Payne were Bird devotees. Leo "Mad Lad" Parker for all his gritty honking in certain contexts could play as smooth as silk when required (i.e. when backing Sarah Vaughan or sifting the chord structure of So Easy]. But despite all these superior efforts by top-notch musicians, there has never been a baritone explosion. The instrument is not a jazz fashion statement and probably never will be, thank goodness. The people who choose to play it are. it seems, creative, dedicated and steadfast. And they probably look askance at those multi-instrumentalists who use the baritone for occasional "colour". Of course in the right hands the bari remains a potent and persuasive musical tool, as Ronnie Cuber once again underlines in the process of this CD. the latest in an ongoing series of superlative sessions he has set down for Steeplechase.


Cuber is no stranger to the label and his work will be familiar to anyone who has traced the twists and turns of jazz over the past 35 years or so. Ronnie first came to attention as an 18-year-old member of Marshall Brown's Newport Youth Band in 1959. His performances and recordings with Slide Hampton. Maynard Ferguson, George Benson, Lionel Hampton. Woody Herman and Horace Silver established him as a formidable soloist, and for the past 20 years he has been leading his own groups besides guesting with other bands.


Today he is among the few leading exponents of bop baritone and for many he remains the most exciting and listenable of the lot with his huge sound, adroit agility and harmonic awareness. He swings hard at any tempo, can play with fine sensitivity and, in short, is carrying the standard for a genre that was pioneered by Leo Parker and built upon impressively by Pepper Adams. His New York sophistication does not exclude the rich reservoir of the blues or the ability to go directly to the simple heart of the matter in his well woven solos. His music is jaunty, robust and passionate.


Ronnie has illustrated his ability as a writer on previous dales, and here he dangles three pieces before us - Mirage, Humacao and Ponta Grossa. the latter brace emphasising his keen appreciation of the subtleties of Latin rhythms and all three indicating his penchant for conjuring up melodies of considerable substance.


In these performances he is assisted by the mobile and mercurial trumpet and flugel-horn of Ryan Kisor, an excellent player of whom we should be hearing a great deal more. His partnership with Cuber is frequently electric and ever supportive.


The cogent piano solos of the gifted Michael Weiss are another plus factor. Weiss has a beautiful touch and his considerate accompaniments are unfailingly helpful. Tony Reedus, an experienced and highly competent drummer, performs with drive and devotion, while Andy McKee's heat and choice lines are features which should not he overlooked.


Cuber pulls them all together and in the process much musical joy is spread in almost 55 invigorating minutes. It may not have been all sweetness and light in the making of this date, but sometimes a little niggle is necessary to put everything into top gear. And it is the results which are the important thing and here they are undeniably impressive.


Cuber's Mirage has a hard bop atmosphere and a keen edge on which Ronnie and Ryan sharpen their axes. Unlike the mirage being sighted, their playing is filled with clear, positive images. The vision of Weiss is also clear-eyed and there is no blurring in his crisp fingering. McKee offers suitable Eastern allusions in his solo before ihe horns return on the crest of a piano vamp to head off towards the Mirage - now you hear it. then you don't!


A loping treatment of Ellington's Do Nothin’ ‘Till You Hear From Me finds Ronnie closer tonally to Carney than usual as he claims this Ducal territory as his own. The soulful smears and blues inflections tell you that Cuber means business. And you'll be doing nothin' else apart from listening intently until the track is concluded. Weiss enjoys a brief but telling interlude, and Ronnie rides out on a lengthy suspended coda.


Mimosa, written by Cuber's former employer guitarist George Benson with whom he worked in 1966-67, has an attractive lyrical quality which suits the Weiss pianistic approach to a R. Kisor's flugel glides above the Latin undercurrent with a mellow mellifluousness that would do credit to Art Farmer. Ronnie poses the musical question: "Or would you rather be a fish?" but such witticisms are part of a fabric of more serious intent.


Humacao, by Cuber, is of more overtly Latin intent, and shows the saxophonist's ease in this style. He has worked with Latin bands and like so many jazz players relishes the rhythmic inspiration that the Afro-Cuban atmosphere provides. His solo is superbly composed yel intensely exciting. Trumpeter Kisor also thrives in this heady climate. Weiss deploys his keyboard know-how of the two-handed, brittle touch so effective in this medium, with telling accuracy. A romp for dancing and listening. In essence: Core Cuber Cubop!


Cole Porter's I've Got You Under My Skin doesn't need dusting off because its changes are the epitome of vibrant modernity, except that modern songwriters don't know how to create timeless melodies of this quality. Fortunately, Ronnie, Ryan and company understand the importance of such standards to their idiom. Ronnie Lionises Leo with some hot bop to fan Cole's still bright fire. Ryan and Michael become equally engrossed in tasting their Porter. You can tell that Michael loves Barry Harris. A delicious interpretation that will get under your skin.


Ponta Grossa is a controlled exploration of the lighter Latin dimension cued to a bossa beat. Michael plays tag with time in his keyboard exposition. Ronnie takes a more urgent tack but with many a felicitous phrase drawn from the Bop Bible. His power is contrasted by a graceful sortie from Kisor on flugelhorn before the dreamy theme is reiterated.


A wild closer is concocted in a whooping version of Charles Mingus' Better Git It In Your Soul, the jazz equivalent of a climactic revival meeting. Here Ronnie Cuber really cuts loose with a surging stream of ideas that burst into a positive torrent as his down home thoughts are resolved. This is fever pitch stuff, but that is precisely the picture Mingus was painting for us. Everyone enjoys this track right through to the rollicking stomp unleashed by the band at the close. From McKee's scene-setting opening, and not forgetting the intelligent breaks by Reedus, this is happiness unconfined. But it will be Cuber's abrasive hollerin' that you'll remember with the other musicians clapping him on for one brilliant chorus.


We do not look to Ronnie Cuber for genteel, gentle or polite background music. To him we turn for gut-wrenching, virile sounds that express a relish for living and a defiant optimism which take the ears by storm. His brand of eloquence may be brusque, at times brash even, but it is a vivid and vital part of the jazz experience, delivered with warmth and humanity. An aural Mirage? No, this music exudes raw reality as Ronnie Cuber perceives it.”
  • Mark Gardner (Co-author, The Blackwell Guide To Recorded Jazz)


After a 13 year absence, Ronnie Cuber returned to Steeplechase with the 2009 release of RONNIE [SCCD 31680] on which he is joined by Helen Sung on piano, Boris Kozlov on bass and Jonathan Blake on drums.


The insert notes by Mark Gardner for this compact disc contain a number of quotations in which Ronnie’s talks directly about his influences, the musicians on the date with him and some of the song selections.


“Baritone saxophonist grew up in the 1950s when Blue Note, Prestige and Riverside were making records - often great records - in an informal way, capturing the essence of how the music was developing in that exciting era. Cuber says of this, his latest studio venture: "That's just how we did this one. In fact the session sounds as if it could have been done in the late 1950s or early 1960s when so much was happening."


At the request of producer Nils Winther, Ronnie drew up a list of standards and jazz originals that will be familiar to most listeners. Several of these pieces are associated with Miles Davis, especially the classic quintet that he led in the 1950s with John Coltrane, Red Garland, Paul Chambers and Philly Joe Jones. It was that group which set their seal on Ah Leu Cha, and also had Eddie Vinson's Four in the repertoire. Dave Brubeck's The Duke was, of course, recorded by Miles on his first large-scale orchestral outing under the baton of Gil Evans.


"As a young teenager, a pivotal point in my life was hearing those Miles albums like Cookin’ and Relaxin’. At the time I got to know and hung out with some older musicians, who, one night, took me down to the Cafe Bohemia to hear Miles. I guess this was before Coltrane joined up full-time because Sonny Rollins was on tenor and Art Taylor on drums. So this was also before Philly joe was in there. It was either Red Garland or maybe Tommy Flanagan on piano. Well, that was really something to hear!" Ronnie recalls.


"Later on, I heard in person the wonderful sextet with Coltrane, Cannonball, Wynton Kelly, Chambers and Jimmy Cobb. It was another wonderful band. Those guys didn't have anything written down or overly planned. Miles would just a call a tune and they would take it from there. I guess the arrangements evolved over time. But it was a very different feel to, say, Horace Silver, who had performances worked out, fully arranged and with little unison passages inserted between and even within solos. I really like Miles's approach, though."


While Ronnie didn't ever see the Miles quintet with Philly Joe Jones on drums, he did become a friend of Philly Joe's, and remembers seeing the drummer leading his own band. "Unfortunately, with all his problems, Philly Joe borrowed a different set of drums every night and next day would go off and hock them. One reason why Philly Joe was only an occasional leader. It was a shame because he knew how to organise a group and get the best out of the musicians."


Cuber believes that the Davis version of Au Leu Cha on Columbia was the best he ever heard of this Charlie Parker bop finger-buster. "Miles and his men got that tune down to perfection." Of the other pieces within this programme, Ronnie believes that Gloria's Step, written by bassist Scott LaFaro for the Bill Evans Trio in their famous Village Vanguard recording, has been played rarely since then. "Actually, I can't think of another interpretation. Musicians tend to shy away from it because the composition has an odd form. But I think it's a beautiful thing.


"When bassist Boris Kozlov and myself were with the Mingus Big Band, we would often jam together backstage, and we would frequently find ourselves playing 'Gloria's Step' as a duo because it's kind of challenging and keeps you thinking."


Kenny Drew Jr. was Ronnie's pianist for about five years, but when he was taken up with other work, Helen Sung came in. "Helen was another player from the Mingus Big Band. Susan Mingus liked to rotate the musicians to give everyone a chance. I liked Helen right away. She was easy to get along with, very adaptable and most appreciative of the work. On the day of this recording she had a raging cold, and I know how difficult it is to play well when you are feeling ill like that. But despite that, you would never know from her playing here that she was well below par physically.


"Boris Kozlov is an excellent bassist, much in demand for all kinds of work. It was good to have him aboard. Boris used the upright electric bass for the fast version All The Things You Are where we were aiming for that kind of Wayne Shorter/ Weather Report feel. The electric bass sounded correct in that context."


Drummer Johnathan Blake is a driving percussionist who, in Ronnie's words, "makes it." He has the high profile gig with trumpeter Tom Harrell, and, as Cuber points out, is very popular with fellow musicians and audiences.


Freddie Hubbard's Thermo was recorded by the trumpeter with a big band, directed by Wayne Shorter, on the album The Body And Soul Of Freddie Hubbard in 1963. It's a tune that deserves wider currency. Ronnie is attracted to the melodies of Michel Legrand, a jazzman, who, like Neal Hefti, Quincy Jones, Johnny Mandel and Lalo Schifrin, made it as a Hollywood film composer. The two lyrical and evocative samples of Legrand included here are Love Theme From 'Summer Of '42 and Watch What Happens (given a lovely, loping treatment), from "The Umbrellas Of Cherbourg" score. Incidentally, Ronnie has done a fair amount of writing for films on his own account.


Cuber's selection also includes the Richard Rodgers standard I Didn't Know What Time It Was and the Clifford Brown hard bop groover Daahoud, as hip today as when the trumpeter composed it 55 years ago.


Ronnie Cuber (a Christmas baby, born Brooklyn, December 25, 1941) started out on tenor, but was persuaded to switch to baritone by Marshall Brown. The year of 2009 is his fiftieth of playing the baritone saxophone . "It was strange at first, using a much bigger horn, but it soon seemed natural. I was both influenced and inspired by Pepper Adams, and others who affected me were fellow Brooklynite Cecil Payne - such a sweet guy - and Leo Parker. I admired Serge Chaloff, who was great, but I was looking for a different type of groove.


"See, before switching to baritone I listened to all the great tenor players like Gene Ammons, Dexter Cordon, Hank Mobley, Johnny Griffin, so they were influences that carried over into the way I played baritone. The records I studied in the 1950s were by the wonderful Blue Note artists, such as Mobley, Donald Byrd, lackie McLean, Freddie Hubbard. That was, is, my kind of music. And that's where I'm coming from on this recording."


Those 50 years in the jazz business have encompassed highs and lows for Ronnie. "There was wonderful music around in the early 1960s, but few opportunities to play it because the New York scene was contracting, and that's when many of the cats, like Bud Powell, Dexter, Ben Webster, Kenny Clarke, Art Taylor, Tootie Heath and many others settled over in Europe. It was rough for me before I joined George Benson. I was playing with Jack McDuff up at the Hotel Theresa, when a guy approached me and said he was managing George Benson, and would I like to join the guitarist's group. I said 'Fine, if it's o.k. with George'. That worked out well. It was a swinging little band and different, too, because most of the guitar and organ groups then were using either a tenor or alto. With a baritone it was unusual. We had some fun times and played some good music."


Incidentally, further examples of Ronnie's work in a small group (quartet and quintet) context can be found on "Airplay" (Steeplechase SCCD 31309), "In A New York Minute " (Steeplechase SCCD 31372), and "N.Y. Cats" (Steeplechase SCCD 31394) which document his activities in the 1990s.


While not fixated with the music of his youth, Ronnie believes that the situation for jazz players was better then. He enjoyed the way records were made, and even preferred the instruments that were being manufactured in those days. "I have a 1960s Selmer which has an elongated bell and that extra low note. I was really pleased to find a neck from the same period as my horn in a St Louis instrument store last year. It cost me 350 dollars but was well worth it. The spare neck I had didn't fit properly. As soon as I inserted this period neck it sounded so much better.


"Reeds? Finding good ones is so unpredictable. I guess there will be two or three that are just fine in a box of 25. And you can't always tell by looking at them. You think this one should be good, but it's a dud. And another that appears flawed plays beautifully. So it's a case of luck of the draw."


A well travelled player, whose style is appreciated in many countries, Ronnie is a frequent visitor to Europe, and when we spoke he had recently returned from giving concerts as a featured soloist, along with trombonist Conrad Herwig and trumpeter Randy Brecker, with the Metropole Orchestra in Holland. "Listeners abroad respect authenticity, and that’s why they bring in American musicians for the festivals and special concerts."


The "Penguin Guide To Jazz On CD" sums up Ronnie Cuber like this: "He gets a light, limber feel out of the baritone when he wants to, though he will make it sound gruff and monstrous if he has to." In other words he adapts to the requirements of the music as he hears them. This new set is a prime of example of Cuber dealing with compositions he knows and appreciates. Material that stands up well to re-examination. He's in good company and great form.”
- Mark Gardner (Contributor, Jazz journal International since 1962)


Thank goodness we didn’t have to wait for another long spell to hear Ronnie Cuber’s next Steeplechase recording as it came along just three years later in 2012 with the issuance of Boplicity [SCCD 31734] on which Johnathan Blake remains as the drummer, but this is joined by Michael Wolff on piano and Cameron Brown on bass.


“The Bebop baritone saxophonists were a select, exclusive contingent of specialists who learned their trade mostly in the big bands. While a few swingsters like Jack Washington and Harry Carney had opened jazz possibilities for the big horn, it was left to the likes of Serge Chaloff, Cecil Payne, Leo "Mad Lad" Parker, Gerry Mulligan and Sahib Shihab to realise the instrument's solo potential in a modern context.


Until the emergence of these fluent practitioners -and a number of others that followed, such as Pepper Adams, Bill Graham, Tate Houston, Bob Gordon, Charles Davis and Jerome Richardson - the bari was largely an ensemble voice, though an essential one since it anchored every sax section, regardless of the flanking permutation of altos and tenors.


An interesting aspect of the original masters - Chaloff, Payne, Parker, Mulligan and Shihab - was thai each developed a signature sound with markedly individual phrasing, while proving-that the baritone, in the right hands, could be as fleet as its smaller instrumental relations.


The "famous five", who shared a deep affinity for the musical innovations of Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker, Thelonious Monk and Bud Powell, are all gone now, along with Pepper Adams, always a passionate keeper of the flame.
Long years ago the bari baton was passed to Ronnie Cuber, a practitioner who, to these ears, stands head and shoulders above the contemporary pack. Bop was in its incubation period when Ronnie was born in Brooklyn (also Cecil Payne's birthplace), New York; on Christmas Day, 1941. He studied tenor sax at Brooklyn Conservatory of Music, but switched to baritone with Marshall Brown's Newport Youth Band in 1958. "There were plenty of tenors, bul Marshall needed a baritone player so asked me if I'd try it. I said yes, so he bought me one," Ronnie recalls.


Being a dedicated youngster, he was not merely content with acquiring a nifty technique, but also investigating the history of the instrument and studying the works of his illustrious predecessors. In addition he resolved to achieve a thoroughly personal tone.


In the process he became fluent and authentic in his interpretations of the bebop repertoire. That meant getting to grips with the tunes devised so artfully by Gillespie and Parker in the 1940s.


"I had been listening to fill the top tenors including John Coltrane, Sonny Rollins, Dexter Gordon and Hank Mobley - especially Hank Mobley. So I tried to take my tenor approach to the baritone. The transition was not too difficult.


"I most admired Pepper Adams because he was the most modern of the baritones. One time, when I was 17 and trumpeter jimmy Owens was 13, he suggested we go up and hear Donald Byrd and Pepper Adams at Small's. He knew them, and during a break I got the chance to talk to Pepper and ask him about the type of mouthpiece and reeds he used. To my surprise he had a close tip mouthpiece with a very hard reed. But then he said, I just use what they send me.' So f guess he could get that huge sound with just about anything! "Much later ! played gigs with Pepper and Nick Brignola. Those were exciting times."


Ronnie also listened to the recorded works of Leo Parker. "He was a fantastic, bluesy player, but I decided I shouldn't hear too much of him because I liked it so much and I didn't want to be unduly influenced by him.


"However, one time when I sat in with trombonist Al Grey, after we were through he said, 'You sure remind me of Leo Parker.' I said it was more coincidence than influence."


While honing his craft by experience with George Benson, Maynard Ferguson, King Curtis, Woody Herman and Lee Konitz among others, Cuber also  blossomed as a composer and arranger, and as a soloist showed the same urgency displayed on baritone and tenor when he took up bass clarinet and flute.


"There was a period when I did a lot of session work, and the demand was for a baritone to double on bass clarinet, flute and maybe clarinet, I was also involved in playing Latin music, and that was enjoyable."
However, it is as a majestic master of the bari that has earned him justified renown. And on this vibrant set he reaffirms his bebop roots in wondrous fashion and in the process pays tribute to some of his pioneering predecessors.


The spine of the collection is Ronnie's interpretations of seven tunes created by Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie that formed essential tracts in the bop bible. Diz is represented by Ow! penned by the trumpeter as a showcase for Cecil Payne with the Gillespie big band in 1947. A Night In Tunisia was written as early as 1941 and first recorded under the title "Interlude" in 1944, while Groovin High was first heard on disc in a key small group collaboration with Charlie Parker in 1S45.


Before Dizzy and Bird embarked on a trip to California in the late autumn of 1945 they recorded Parker's Now's The Time, later to partially emerge in commercial form as The Hucklebuck. When Bird returned from California to New York and formed a new quintet in 1947 he began a tumultuous round of record dates that extended through 1948. From that intense period emerged Quasimodo (made for Dial) and Cheryl done for Savoy. Quite apart from his improvising genius, Bird had a rich talent for conjuring up cute melodies. My Little Suede Shoes, in a Latin vein, is one such example. He included it in a 1951 date for Norman Granz, and the chirpy line with its dainty, dancing rhythm was/is utterly beguiling.


Boplicity, which lends its name to the title of this set, was one of the key compositions that heralded a departure, or rather a variation, on the thrust of bop. It was written by Miles Davis (with help from Gil Evans) as one of the ground-breaking pieces for his "Birth ol the Coo!" nine-piece band which recorded for Capitol in 1949. Miles gifted composer credit to his mother, whose maiden name was Cleo Henry, in an unusual form of dedication. This band, of course, included in its ranks Gerry Mulligan, who shone as composer, arranger and baritone soloist. Finally, Ronnie also includes one standard, Johnny Green's Out Of Nowhere, a tune that was immensely popular with boppers because of its felicitous changes. It was a staple in Bird's club and concert book.


"I've consistently played A Night In Tunisia over the years, and Out Of Nowhere' was always on the list of jamming tunes. Of course I knew all the other pieces, but hadn't necessarily performed them recently."


This Cuber quartet has worked together frequently, and a few months before this dale had toured France and Austria. "We have a good understanding. Johnathan Blake is one of the younger, rising talents on drums with a good fee.”


"Bassist Cameron Brown keeps us all on track, and pianist Michael Wolff is a tasty soloist and fine comper. We did the entire date in six hours."


The opening Ow! sets the excitement level for the session, while also recalling Cecil Payne's contribution to bebop. "Although we both came from Brooklyn, I didn't get to know Cecil until I took up baritone."


Ronnie's arranging hand can be detected in his extended line on Quasimodo and expansion of A Night In Tunisia. His certainty with Latin rhythms is evident on both My Little Suede Shoes and Tunisia plus Out Of Nowhere. He really wails on Cheryl, but listen to his polished, assured reading of Boplicity
His ability to make the baritone sing is beautifully illustrated by his rendition of Groovin' High, while his potent power as a blues player shines through every note of Now's The Time. Out Of Nowhere takes us somewhere and it's a good place to be in baritone terms with the Latin inflections and treatment in perfect accord.


All Ronnie's agility and guile are deployed with consummate skill on the roaring Tunisia which provides a rousing exit statement. Were he still with us, Dizzy would be grinning his approval. It is one of Gillespie's most enduring themes which rarely fails to inspire and ignite its numerous interpreters. No wonder the Jazz Messengers featured the piece so consistently for decades.


The boss of the big horn transports us back to the heyday of bop when the music was on the cusp of a new era of discovery. But Ronnie Cuber assesses these classics in his own personal manner, proving in the process the viability of material that has weathered more than 60 years and still sounds super hip and contemporary.
  • Mark Gardner (Contributor to Jazz Journal since 1962)




Ronnie Cuber Live at JazzFest Berlin is the latest Cuber Steeplechase release [SCCD 31766] and it was issued in 2013.


The music on it was actually recorded five years earlier at the Club Quasimodo in Berlin, Germany on November 12, 2008. On it, Ronnie is joined by pianist Kenny Drew Jr., bassist Ruben Rodriguez and drummer Ben Perowsky.


Mark Gardner elucidates further on how this date came about, the appeal of recording live and the music and its makers in the following insert notes to the recording.


“The advantages of recording live in a relaxed club environment appeal greatly to ace baritone saxophonist Ronnie Cuber. "In a live recording situation, you are not so aware of the technical aspects. You can just enjoy playing for the audience," he says.


"A studio date is a little bit more nerve-wracking, but fine providing you have the right guys."


When Ronnie presented his quartet at the Club Quasimodo as part of the 2008 JazzFest Berlin, he wasn't aware that the music was being logged for a radio broadcast.


"The band was in great shape. We had played some gigs in Italy before travelling to Germany for this single appearance at the festival. It turned out to be a very good night. The Quasimodo is an excellent club, the audience was very responsive, and I think that positive feeling fed back into our performance.


"Afterwards, the radio company sent us the tapes and said we could do what we liked with them."


Having later listened to them at length, Ronnie realised their musical value; the band had been on fire that evening. When Steeplechase producer Nils Winther reviewed the results of an outstanding night's work he agreed. The quality of the sounds demanded permanence in the shape of a CD release.
Recalls Ronnie: "We did two hour-long sets on that occasion and for this CD selected the best performances from each set."

The leader was especially impressed with the contributions of pianist Kenny Drew Jr. "Me and Kenny have worked and toured together quite a lot over the years. It's always fun to play with him because he's so in tune with my thinking."


Ronnie asked Kenny to provide some material for that '08 collaboration, and the pianist came up with his own variations on that milestone of Ellingtonia, "Things Ain't what They Used To Be", wittily recast as Things Never were what They Used To Be!


Kenny also concocted one of his most catchy and cute melodies in Perpetuating The Myth which is tastily imbued with whimsical, Monkish flavours.


"I always most enjoy fronting my own band because then I can play material of my own choosing." In this instance the baritone man aired a pair of his own compositions. Passion Fruit should be picked and savoured in Summertime for it's in George Gershwin's season. "I wrote this riff over those changes and it worked well."


He also prepared another appetising dish in Arroz Con Pollo (rice and chicken), a favoured meal of Mr Cuber and millions of others. It's a happy blues, a medium in which R.C. excels. At one point he suggests there might have been a slice of watermelon on the side.


There's a strong Latin influence present in this hot recital. Kicking off with Horace Silver's Tokyo Blues explains Ronnie: "I've always had an affinity with Latin jazz. I learned to love it from listening to the groups of Horace Silver and Art Blakey, who always included Latin tracks in their recordings, I always keep a couple of Horace's tunes in the pocket. 'Tokyo Blues' is a monster with a built-in groove.


"I also enjoyed the experience of working with Eddie Palmieri who had asked me to infuse some jazz into his Latin band."


Evidently exotic moods also appeal to Kenny Drew, who thrives whether projecting the samba rhythm on Clare Fischer's Coco B or setting up a classic Cuban vamp on Passion Fruit.

Incidentally, Coco B was one of a number of Fischer tunes sent to Ronnie by Clare's widow. "I especially like this one. It's pleasurable to play."


While the content of this CD is primarily delivered in hard blowing fashion, the temperature is turned down for a thoughtful exploration of Herbie Hancock's shimmering melody Tell Me A Bedtime Story.The tales related by Ronnie and Kenny are sumptuously lyrical and lovingly delineated.


I've failed to mention Cuber's other companions in this festive outpouring, but both bassist Ruben Rodriguez and drummer Ben Perowsky perform manfully. Each is a tried and trusted and appreciated colleague of Ronnie's.
"I've done a lot of gigs and recordings with Ben. He's on my Steeplechase CD Airplay. You can always count on Ben."


Similarly, Ruben is an admired collaborator. "I just finished playing with Ruben on a tribute to loe Henderson, recorded at New York's Blue Note club."


As for Ronnie Cuber, he remains as busy and in-demand as ever. He had just come off a two-month, nationwide tour with Dr. John - lots of airports, hotels, travelling. "But touring is better now. You geta day off between gigs. Back in the old days, you came off the aircraft and had to play almost right away - that was heavy"


He sees the release of the enclosed music as capturing some creative moments on a memorable night when everything fell into place. It's an exciting, clearly defined "snapshot" in a crowded career. It also mirrors what jazz at its best is all about.”
  • Mark Gardner


I have appended Mark Gardner’s notes to Airplay as a conclusion to this piece as, although it is the first of Ronnie’s Steeplechase CD having been issued in 1992, it featured separately in a previous post and I wanted to minimize the confusion for those readers who may have read the earlier posting.


At a future date, I will combine it as a lead in to this piece on Ronnie’s Steeplechase output.


So to conclude by beginning at the beginning [are you thoroughly confused, now?], here’s Mark Gardner’s annotations to  Ronnie Cuber Quartet - Airplay [Steeplechase label SCCD 31309].


The first of these - Ronnie Cuber Quartet - Airplay [Steeplechase label SCCD 31309] is a great place to begin because it’s where I started my personal CuberQuest and because the insert notes by the brilliant Jazz writer Mark Gardner offer an excellent overview of Ronnie’s career, as well as, a detailed examination of the influences on Ronnie’s style of playing and the elements that make it so unique.


“The baritone saxophone has come a long way from being the background horn that added bottom to the section. In the expert hands of Gerry Mulligan, Serge Chaloff, Cecil Payne, Leo Parker, Bob Gordon, Pepper Adams, Tate Houston, and Nick Brignola it assumed respected solo status in Modern Music. In the early 1960s a new, exciting stylist was heard on the bari - Ronnie Cuber. Most reminiscent of Leo Parker, he brought an ample technique, distinctive tone and swinging mobility to the big horn. Most of all his playing brimmed with vitality and enthusiasm.


Thirty years on [these notes were written in 1992] in an always stimulating career and Ronnie still keeps that hot flame burning brightly. His work is now more rich and complex, but the youthful energy remains like a powerhouse of untapped reserves. The ears have remained open and, significantly, on this his first album as a leader for Steeplechase, Ronnie has surrounded himself with younger men who possess the spark that ignites fires.


Listeners unfamiliar with the Cuber sound and biography should know that he was born on Christmas Day, 1941, in New York, grew up as part of a musical family, studied clarinet and played tenor sax at high school in Brooklyn and won a seat in Marshall Brown's Newport Youth Band alter the leader persuaded him to switch to baritone and bought him an instrument.
That was in 1959 and Ronnie and bari have been companions ever since. Influences included Hank Mobley, Pepper Adams, Cecil Payne and John Coltrane. Accidentally, it seems, his conception contained elements of Leo Parker's tone and drive. Through the 1960s Cuber was able to work with a succession of big bands - Maynard Ferguson, Lionel Hampton, Woody Herman - which was invaluable in the jazz learning process.


He was also heard in the small groups of Slide Hampton and George Benson, with whom he made four albums including the important It's Uptown and The George Benson Cookbook. After hearing Ronnie's coruscating solo on Ain't That Peculiar in the former set I became a Cuber convert instantly.


In the following decade, a poor one for jazz, Ronnie worked in lazz-rock and Latin-jazz contexts, backed Aretha Franklin and finally got the chance to record two albums under his own leadership, Cuber Libre and The Eleventh Day Of Aquarius, for Xanadu, also appearing on releases by Sam Noto, Mickey Tucker and the Montreux All Stars for the same label.


At the end of the 1970s he was a member of the Lee Konitz Nonet which recorded for Steeplechase. Since that time he has mostly worked at the helm of his own small group, often a quartet, and has blossomed out as a composer of real substance. Six of his originals are included in the enclosed programme of gripping performances. Each displays a different facet ol the composer/soloist's musical personality as well as an individual mood.


Lending Ronnie unflagging and imaginative support from start to finish are three accomplished musicians well chosen for the assignment - Geoff Keezer (piano), Chip Jackson (bass) and Ben Perowsky (drums).


Geoff Keezer (born, Eau Claire, Wisconsin, 1970) was encouraged by pianist James Williams and after a year's study at the Berklee School of Music in Boston, Geoff made his debut album for Sunnyside with Williams as producer. He has already worked with an impressive array of names including Art Blakey and recorded an album of his own for Blue Note. Keezer has exceptional facility and great feeling.


Chip Jackson, another former Berklee student, has been active since the early 1970s and past credits include spells with Gary Burton, Woody Herman, Horace Silver, Stan Getz, Red Rodney, Roy Haynes and Elvin Jones. A skilled arranger and valued teacher, he is no stranger to the recording studios, having made many albums with the likes of Herman, Chuck Mangione, lack Walrath and Elvin lones.


Ben Perowsky, alert and swinging behind his drums, completes a Berklee triumvirate. Originally inspired by Tony Williams, Ben was helped by his father, tenor saxophonist Frank Perowsky. He has worked with Mike Stern and Bob Berg, James Moody, Roy Ayers and Ricki Lee Jones. He enjoys playing in other musical styles besides jazz. "I come from a family of dancers so I like to see people move, and hearing my dad play since I was a kid helped me develop my musical ear," Ben told Georgia Antonopoulos.


The relaxed opener in this set, is Ronnie's bluesy and modally inclined Bread And Jam, at a nice loping tempo. After the theme, Keezer launches into an excellent solo in which his phrasing sometimes suggests Wynton Kelly and Phineas Newborn. Ronnie rolls relentlessly along in his portion and it's back to the main strain - with no strain. The nifty arrangement makes good use of little drum climaxes.


New Orleans 1951, on an AABA pattern, is really a funky, soul blues with a bridge to add a dash of southern spice. The rhythmic climate would not be alien to rock or rhythm and blues performers. It's a recipe for grooving and Ronnie points the way to be followed by Geoff and a composed Chip Jackson. Although dated 1951, the feel here is definitely of the late 1960s. Cuber fashions an extended, creative ending.


Chip Jackson's Pit Inn is a message in mixed metres, starting in waltz time but easily switched to 4/4, and suggesting other times, when the participants choose. Ronnie and Geoff display great control and involvement, testing their imaginations without losing contact with the material. Jackson steps in for a hugely satisfying unaccompanied solo. Note his arco work in unison with Cuber - two sounds merging to create a new one.


On One For Hank, dedicated to Hank Mobley, Ronnie remembers affectionately his early influence and succeeds in transferring to the baritone, Mobley's long, lithe lines. Hank did not possess a knock-'em-dead tone, but made audiences sit up and listen by logic and elegance of his sinuous improvisations. Cuber catches that feeling of archetypal hard bop here and recalls the flawless phrasing of the maestro.


Jazz Cumbia is an excursion into the Latin vein with Ben applying an appropriate beat and percussive licks. Geoff combines the authentic voicings from the Latin piano style with some Monk shades that fit the context. Cuber, at his most vocal and expressive, employs the lull scope of his horn in a solo ol surging momentum, Jackson makes his bass sing in unusual ways before the quartet chugs on out into a Mexican sunset.


The aptly-named Passion Fruit combines good melodic ideas with typical blues phrases within a Summertime feeling. Ronnie shows his admiration for the' running and leaping style of Cecil Payne here. There's no sag in the passion when Keezer takes over.


Trane's Waltz, the second 3/4 offering of the set, could easily become one of my favourite things which it emulates as a hip-notic re-enactment of a familiar contour. Ronnie's explorations are deep and decisive as he rides a barrage backdrop as Coltrane did so effectively in the early 1960s. The challenge is for the soloist to make the most of the minimal changes with a constantly interesting lateral line. In some hands it can become tedious; Ronnie Cuber keeps it fresh and fine.


Ronnie's Airplay, the title track, was heard first on the Konitz album, Yes, Yes Nonet (Steeplechase SCCD 31119) and loses nothing in its transfer to a quartet setting. Like so many of Cuber's tunes it has startling melodic surprises and rhythmic shifts that are integral parts of the musical fabric. The composer shows his will to wail, and the performance gathers in intensity as it unfurls. By the end his bari must have been close to meltdown! All of which is indicative of how much thought and feeling Ronnie puts into his music.


Commitment has always been high on Ronnie Cuber's priority list. There are no half measures. The myth of the baritone being cumbersome passes into fiction, where it belongs, when you hear just how versatile and responsive the big horn can be under the controlled command of a virtuoso. His overdue return as a leader on this date will be welcomed by jazzers everywhere as a sign that the good guys prevail.”


Mark Gardner


Co-author, The Blackwell Guide to Recorded Jazz









Monday, September 3, 2018

Cool Struttin' With Sonny Clark

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


“Sonny Clark was an important figure in hard bop piano, but his reputation has perhaps suffered a little from the fact that his creative efforts had a deceptively easy flow. In the sleeve note for the pianist's Cool Struttin album, Art Farmer comments that 'a primary quality in Sonny Clark's playing is that there's no strain in it. Some people sound like they are trying to swing. Sonny just flows naturally along. Also central to his work is that he has a good, powerful feeling for the blues.'


The trumpeter, on the mark as ever, has identified a crucial quality in Clark's playing. Ironically, though, it is one that has led at times to his work being undervalued as a little too easily achieved. There is, for example, at least a slightly patronising note in the following summation of the pianist from The Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD, 6th Ed: “For all his exuberant self-confidence, he never quite seemed a convincing professional, but rather an inspired amateur, happy when there was a piano in the corner, a bottle open on the top, and some business to be attended to in the back room.”


Richard Cook’s and Brian Morton’s generally favorable reception of Sonny’s music suggests that judgement may not be intended to be as dismissive as it sounds. If Clark was an amateur, it was surely in the strict sense of the word, a lover of the music he played, and a highly inventive and accomplished one.


He was born Conrad Yeatis Clark in the coal-mining hamlet of Herminie, Pennsylvania, on 21 July 1931, and lived in Pittsburgh from the age of twelve, until he moved to the west coast with an elder brother at nineteen. He began playing piano as a child, and was featured on an amateur hour radio programme at the age of six, playing boogie-woogie style piano. His interest in jazz was sparked by hearing radio broadcasts of the Basic and Ellington bands in the mid-1940s, and by recordings of Fats Waller and Art Tatum. The nascent bebop sound captured his attention, however, and bop was his chosen form throughout his career, which ended with his death in 1963 in New York from a heart attack brought on by the combined effects of drug addiction and alcoholism - the latter a cruelly ironic consequence of his efforts to rid himself of the former.


He began to pick up jobs on the west coast from 1951, firstly with Vido Musso and Oscar Pettiford in San Francisco, then in Los Angeles. He made his first recording with Teddy Charles's West Coasters in 1953 (which also yielded the first recording of one of the pianist's own compositions, 'Lavonne'), and joined Buddy DeFranco's quartet that year. He toured Europe with the now rather undervalued clarinetist in 1954, and cut a fine series of dates with him for Verve in 1954-55, which were collected by Mosaic Records as The Complete Verve Recordings of the Buddy DeFranco Quartet/Quintet with Sonny Clark.


While in Oslo with DeFranco in 1954, Clark was recorded in an informal session at a post-gig party which was later issued as The Sonny Clark Memorial Album on Xanadu in 1976. It is a valuable document of the pianist's style, and doubly so, since it not only features two extended trio pieces, with Swedish bass player Simon Brehm and the drummer from the DeFranco band, Bobby White, but also five solo piano pieces.


These are a rarity in the Clark discography, although the Bainbridge Time trio set from 1960 includes a lush, fulsome, almost Tatum-esque solo reading of his tune My Conception, mostly played rubato (or 'out of tempo' - the word literally means 'stolen', in the sense of taking the music out of its regular time scheme). The sound quality on the Xanadu release is poor, but these solo pieces provide a fine starting point for a consideration of his style which, while deriving to a large extent from the example of Bud Powell, is invariably more relaxed and crisply swinging, with none of Powell's nervy, neurotic tension, or his moody darkness.


Clark's short version of All God's Chillun’ Got Rhythm included here is arguably the most Powell-like playing (on one of Bud's own favoured vehicles) he ever committed to tape, and verges on a pastiche of the master, both in the way he shapes his phrases, and in the rhythmic accentuation he brings to them. The remaining solos are more typical of his general approach, as he tosses off extended melodic and harmonic explorations with a beguiling fluidity, and that surely deceptive ease.


Technically, he is well in command of the material, as his dextrous manipulation of the double-time passages in Improvisation No 1 will testify, although his fingering is less certain at times on Denzil Best's fleet bop theme Move, taken at a fearsome, finger busting tempo. His playful transition from Body and Soul to Jeepers Creepers is accomplished with an almost casual harmonic virtuosity, which is mirrored again in Improvisation No 2, where a relaxed opening section gives way to Miles Davis's Sippin' At Bells (a tune he knew from Charlie Parker's 1947 recording, which he recalled was 'one of the first in my jazz record collection'), and then, in a highly unconventional piece of lateral inspiration, slips into an investigation of Over The Rainbow.


The two extended trio pieces, a blues given the title Oslo, and the standard After You've Gone, both offer Clark plenty of space to demonstrate not only his facility, but the copious flow of his musical thought at the keyboard. He never gets boxed into a corner in which he has to rely on regurgitating cliches or simply repeating himself, but maintains the steady flow of invention at a pace and fecundity which seems literally inexhaustible. The listener is left with the sensation, particularly on After You've Gone, that the solo could simply have gone on indefinitely, and kept moving to new places. Throughout the session, it is apparent even through the low-fi sound haze that the twenty-two year old pianist already had his style pretty much in place.


He remained with DeFranco's band until 1956, then joined bassist Howard
Rumsey's Lighthouse All-Stars in Hermosa Beach, as well as recording with the likes of saxophonist Sonny Criss, trombonist Frank Rosolino, vibraphonist Cal Tjader, drummer Lawrence Marable, saxophonist Jerry Dodgion, and a memorable session with baritone saxophonist Serge Chaloff on 4 March, 1956, which became the classic Blue Serge (Capitol), arguably the most significant memento of his time on the west coast. In reflecting on that time, though, Clark articulated the standard view of the coast-to-coast divide.


'The climate is crazy,' he told Leonard Feather in the liner notes for Sonny Clark Trio. 'I'm going to be truthful, though: I did have a sort of hard time trying to be comfortable in my playing. The fellows out on the west coast have a different sort of feeling, a different approach to jazz. They swing in their own way. But Stan Levey, Frank Rosolino and Conte Candoli were a very big help; of course they all worked back in the east for a long time during the early part of their careers, and I think they have more of the feeling of the eastern vein than you usually find in the musicians out west. The eastern musicians play with so much fire and passion/


Clark's pursuit of that fire took him east in 1957, as an accompanist to singer Dinah Washington, a job he took 'more or less for the ride' back to New York. He quickly settled into the New York bop scene, where he became a regular in the studios (mainly but not exclusively at the behest of Blue Note), both as a leader, and as sideman with a slew of the city's leading bop artists, including Sonny Rollins, Hank Mobley, Lou Donaldson, Tina Brooks, John Jenkins, Curtis Fuller, Clifford Jordan, Bennie Green, J. R. Monterose, Jackie McLean, Grant Green and Dexter Gordon, among others. Clark invariably plays with the kind of vibrant fluency that was his trademark, and his ability both to fit into the musical situation at hand, and make a distinctly individual contribution to it, indicates just why Alfred Lion turned to him so often in the studio.


He made his debut as leader for the label with the slightly uneven Dial S For Sonny, recorded on 21 July, 1957, with a sextet which featured trumpeter Art Farmer, trombonist Curtis Fuller and tenor saxophonist Hank Mobley as the horn line-up, with Wilbur Ware on bass and Louis Hayes behind the drums. The album contained four of Clark's own compositions and two standards (one of which, Love Walked In, was a trio feature for the pianist).


A second and rather stronger sextet date on 9 October became Sonny's Crib, which retained only Fuller from the sidemen on the earlier date, with John Coltrane on tenor, Donald Byrd on trumpet, Paul Chambers on bass, and Art Taylor on drums. Only two of the five sides were original to the pianist this time, the title track and News For Lulu. Both albums were solid hard bop dates, and in News For Lulu in particular (named for a dog he had owned in California), the pianist served notice that he had original and arresting things to say as a composer.



In between these sessions he cut a revealing trio date on 13 September, 1957, issued as Sonny Clark Trio, with Paul Chambers on bass and Philly Joe Jones on drums. Listening to his solo on the opening track, Dizzy Gillespie's Be-Bop, is to hear the already mature style of the Oslo date cranked up a few more notches on the intensity scale. This is the environment he sought in abandoning the more highly arranged chamber jazz approach of the west coast for the developing hard bop ferment of New York, and he revelled in the opportunity.


It provided a half-dozen clear demonstrations of his style (with a couple of alternate takes surfacing on the CD issue in 1987), split evenly between the bop themes Be-Bop, Two-Bass Hit, and Tadd's Delight, and the standards I Didn't Know What Time It Was, 'Softly, As In A Morning Sunrise, and I’ll Remember April. The essentials of that style lie in his massive rhythmic exuberance, tied to sparely applied left hand chordal punctuations and a fluid, single line melodic conception in the right hand (with an occasional passing recourse to chording for extra emphasis), which suggests the linear influence of horn playing as much as any of his alleged piano mentors. His touch is always sure, and he likes to throw in an unexpected accentuation or shift of dynamic here and there.


If his own vocabulary did not reveal any notable departures from the bop idiom, he did possess a singular voice within it, and also drew as required from the wider stock-pile of jazz styles. Apart from Bud Powell, he has been linked stylistically with a diverse pool of influences, including Art Tatum, Count Basie, Hampton Hawes, Lennie Tristano and Horace Silver, usually with the acknowledgement that he arrived independently at his own development of their particular traits which have been detected in his playing.


The rigorous, academically-inclined Tristano seems at first glance to be an unlikely inclusion in any such list of influences. His usual linkage is with the cool school of such acolytes as Lee Konitz and Warne Marsh, rather than with a dedicated bopper like Clark. In the sleeve notes for Cool Struttin’ however, the pianist professes admiration for Tristano's 'technical ability and conception', a link which David Rosenthal developed more explicitly in an all too brief consideration of Clark's work in Hard Bop (Rosenthal's final remark is in marked contrast with the 'inspired amateur' jibe in the Penguin Guide).


“The link with Tristano (though also with Powell) is most evident in Sonny Clark's snaking melodic lines. These lines, which can extend for several bars at a time, building through surprisingly accentuated melodic turns, are really the essence of Clark's style and his dominant musical mode. The intensity generated by this onrush of ideas, pouring forth in rapid succession as the long phrases build toward delayed climaxes or, at times, multiple internal ones, lends an air of concentrated taking-care-of-business to the side.”


That melodic invention is evident throughout the Sonny Clark Trio album, and at any tempo, from the relaxed groove of Softly, As In A Morning Sunrise, where he spins long, sinuous phrases around Jones's swinging brush strokes, varied by a vibrant double-time chorus, to the hyperactive scamper through Be-Bop, where his cascading melodic lines dance over an ebullient, funky rhythmic momentum. The vast majority of Clark's recordings, both as leader and sideman, were in a band setting with horns, which made his trio sets all the more intriguing as an unadorned example of his pianistic craft.


They included another fascinating but rather primitively recorded live album, Oakland, 1955, issued on the Uptown label in 1995; the dozen selections (and two alternate takes) gathered on Standards, recorded by Blue Note in November and December 1958 for release as 45 rpm singles (these were also issued under various titles on CD in Japan); and a session of his own compositions for the Bainbridge Time label on 23 March, 1960, with George Duvivier on bass and Max Roach on drums, which was jointly credited to all three musicians on its original issue, and later appeared under other titles, usually Sonny Clark Trio.


The years 1957-8 were very active ones for the pianist, and although much of his work was on Blue Note dates, he did venture out occasionally under the aegis of other labels. One such occasion took him into the Riverside studio with Sonny Rollins in June, 1957, for the sessions which became The Sound of Sonny. It offers an instructive glimpse of the pianist in a more structured - and even restricted - situation, since Rollins was specifically looking to work with 'more sense of form' on this session.


Clark responds to the shorter solo lengths and tighter structural control with cogent, subtly constructed miniatures of his customary fluent manner, but also exhibits a sure sense of compositional form in his comping behind the saxophonist, deftly shaping and reshaping the contours of the standard progressions under the rolling horn phrases. It is an aspect of his work easy to overlook amid the general admiration of his flowing melodic invention, and one which will be heard again in greater detail in his later with-horns dates for Blue Note.


A couple of months later, on 11 August, 1957, he was back in Rudy Van Gelder's New Jersey studio for a date with another saxophonist, this time the more obscure Chicago altoist John Jenkins, a disciple of Charlie Parker. Oddly, Ira Gitler's sleeve note describes the session as Clark's 'first recording for several years', an error which has been allowed to stand in the most recent reissue of the album as John Jenkins and Kenny Burrell in the Blue Note Connoisseur series in 1996.


It is one of a number of sessions undertaken as a sideman for the likes of Curtis Fuller, Clifford Jordan and Johnny Griffin in this period, and is an example of his ability to slot into a studio session and turn in a professional accompanying job which is tasteful and resourceful, but without revealing too much of his own personality in the process. His solos are deft but a little routine, in a setting which does not seem to have unduly inspired him. That, though, can be the studio pianist's lot, and the results are certainly listenable enough.


The situation was very different in the session of 5 January, 1958, a quintet date under his own leadership which produced what many listeners regard as his finest album, Cool Struttin' (the chic sleeve design by Reid Miles is a Blue Note classic). The quintet, in which he is reunited with Chambers and Jones behind a front-line featuring Art Farmer on trumpet and Jackie McLean on alto, is a highly compatible one. The pianist's own playing has come together in a way he tries to define in discussing his understanding of 'soul' in jazz, quoted by Nat Hentoff in the album's sleeve note: ‘I take it to mean your growing up to the capacities of the instrument. Your soul is your conception and you begin to have it in your playing when the way you strike a note, the sound you get and your phrasing come out of yourself and no one else. That's what jazz is, after all, self-expression.'


The original album comprised four lengthy tracks, two of which were Clark's own. Cool Struttin’ is a blues with a 24-bar structure made up of two 12-bar segments, and Blue Minor is a minor-key tune with a laid-back 'blue' mood rather than a blues form, with a hint of a Latin tinge in the melody line. Deep Night is a pop tune which he liked for its chord changes, and which is given a distinctive treatment at the kind of rolling mid-tempo which suited him so well, while the final cut returns to what we have already seen as being an old favorite of the pianist's, Sippin' At Bells, another 12-bar blues structure with what he characterises as ‘sort of advanced changes'.


The title track is quintessential Clark. The relaxed tempo sets a comfortable mood for the amiable ensemble statement of the theme, spread over its double 12-bar undercarriage. Clark then launches on a characteristic rippling, expansive solo over three 12-bar choruses, before springing a surprise when Farmer takes over in the middle of the opening measure of the fourth (12-bar) chorus - in other words, the trumpeter comes in halfway through the second chorus of the piano solo in the 24-bar scheme of the piece. Farmer's beautifully focused, rounded sonority is an ideal counterweight to McLean's more acerbic, biting alto, and both have their say before Clark takes up the baton again with another crisp, elegant solo, this time cycling through a full two choruses of the 24-bar structure. Chambers's short bass solo then leads into the final ensemble statement.


Even at this easy tempo, though, Clark injects a purposeful sense of forward motion into his playing, and one which is highly characteristic of his style. He likes to push up onto the beat rather than to hang back behind it, and to use a sharp, percussive rhythmic touch on the keys, giving his playing a pungent momentum. That urgency is more readily apparent in the faster tempos off Blue Minor or Sippin' At Bells, but is a recurring feature of his style at virtually any tempo, including ballad.


It is easy to hear why Sippin' At Bells remained a favorite with the pianist. The 'advanced changes' of the chord progression provide a rich harmonic grounding for all the soloists to feed off, while the directly expressive blues line is perfect fodder for him. He spins a beguiling single line sequence against a skeletal chordal punctuation in the left hand over Jones's punchy, driving drumming. Once again, though, he sounds even more at home in the brisk but more deliberately paced Deep Night, where his playing unfolds with the easy, graceful swing of a man who is entirely happy at his work, while his collaborators provide sophisticated support.


Two more tunes cut at the session were subsequently added to the CD version. His own Royal Flush is a relaxed workout in a mid-to-uptempo groove, but is not quite as focused rhythmically as the selections chosen for the original issue, while Lover romps through the Rodgers and Hart standard at a fast lick. A Japanese album released under the title Cool Struttin' Volume 2, and later as Sonny Clark Quintets, also combined those two unissued items with three cuts, Minor Meeting, 'Eastern Incident' and Little Sonny, from a date on 8 December, 1957, featuring saxophonist Clifford Jordan, guitarist Kenny Burrell and drummer Pete La Roca.

He recorded another quintet date for Blue Note in 1959 (one of the very few occasions on which he recorded with Art Blakey), but the tapes were not released until 1980, and only in Japan. Both these sessions were combined on the Blue Note Connoisseur release My Conception in 2000.


Clark created a significant album in Cool Struttin’ but it would be another three years before he released another as a leader for Blue Note, with only the trio set for Bainbridge to bridge the gap. As it turned out, that album, Leapin and Lopin’ recorded in November, 1961, would prove to be his last. The line-up featured Tommy Turrentine (trumpet), Charlie Rouse (tenor), Butch Warren (bass) and Billy Higgins (drums), as well as a guest spot for tenorman Ike Quebec on Deep In A Dream. Clark returned the compliment on the saxman's Blue Note albums Blue and Sentimental (1961) and Easy Living (1962).


The album includes three compositions by Clark, but one in particular, Voodoo, focuses attention on him as a writer, rather than simply a player. In an interesting parallel with Herbie Nichols, Clark's music attracted the interest of a later generation of New York avant-gardists, led by pianist Wayne Horowitz, who had been playing some of his tunes in his live sets. At the suggestion of Giovanni Bonandrini, the head of the Italian-based Soul Note/Black Saint record label which has done so much to propagate contemporary American jazz since the early 1970s, and using the name The Sonny Clark Memorial Quartet, he released Voodoo (1986), an album of seven of Clark's tunes with John Zorn (alto sax), Ray Drummond (bass), and Bobby Previte (drums). Zorn later returned to Clark's work in another context, as part of the News For Lulu (hat ART, 1988) album (the title, of course, is a composition from Sonny's Crib), with guitarist Bill Frisell and trombonist George Lewis.


In the sleeve note for Voodoo, Horowitz observes with some justice that ‘bop tunes get the shaft; they're not considered as compositions, even if they're by Horace Silver or Elmo Hope.' While it must be acknowledged that many bop tunes consist of not much more than a rudimentary blowing theme thrown over a set of (often pre-existing) chord changes, others deserve to be recognised for their genuine compositional qualities. The strange, compelling theme of Voodoo certainly falls into that category.


It opens with Warren's eerie walking bass figure, quickly overlaid with Clark's chordal splashes, an introduction which establishes the slightly menacing mood of the music. The horns take up the figure on the opening measure of the theme proper (the piece is in standard 32-bar, AABA form), building the tension over the pianist's continuing bold comping into the first solo, taken by Rouse. Clark follows Turrentine, developing his ideas over two choruses of percussive, unusually choppy improvisation that stands slightly to the side of his usual flowing approach, but is ideally tailored to the atmosphere of the tune.


The two horn players provide a marked contrast with the combination employed on Cool Struttin’ and help to ensure that each session has its own distinct feel, although the choice of material is also a significant factor in that regard. Turrentine was a less sophisticated and individual player than Farmer, while Rouse, who was still in the early stages of what would be a long association with Thelonious Monk, has a very different stylistic approach to that of McLean, as well as playing a different horn. The rhythm section, too, has a lighter (but never lightweight) feel than the powerhouse Chambers-Jones combination, notably in Higgins's freer drum style.

The music is not dominated by the blues to anything like the extent of Cool Struttin’ and the whole album lives up to the implied distinction in the two album titles, with its livelier, more uptempo feel and the harder blowing approach evident on tunes like Clark's Somethin' Special and Melody In C, or Warren's Eric Walks. The obvious exception is the only ballad, Deep In A Dream, where the pianist's refined, gorgeously understated piano is answered in kind by Ike Quebec's sultry, romantic tenor saxophone. The remaining selection on the original LP, Turrentine's Midnight Mambo, is a jolly romp in which Clark leavens his ebullient solo with elegantly interpolated mambo rhythms, while the CD release added an alternate take of Melody in C and the previously unissued Zellmar's Delight.


If these two albums were all we had of his playing, they would be sufficient in themselves to establish Clark as an important contributor to the evolution of bop piano. Leapin' and Lopin' followed a period of relative eclipse after the activity of the 1957-8 period, but he was to enjoy another productive spell in the studios as a sideman in 1961-2. In addition to the two Ike Quebec records mentioned above, he made memorable contributions to Blue Note albums like Jackie McLean's A Fickle Sonance and Tippin The Scales (a quartet date which remained unissued until the early 1980s), Grant Green's Born To Be Blue, Stanley Turrentine's Jubilee Shout, and three albums with Dexter Gordon, two of which, Go! and A Swingin' Affair, were culled from the same sessions.


The pianist finds his place within all of these diverse settings (and more besides) with the same stylish aplomb which characterized his work at all points in his sadly curtailed career, always responding intelligently to the music going on around him, but always remaining his own man in the course of fulfilling its demands. His sorry end is an all too familiar tale. He died from a drug overdose on 13 January, 1963, and his passing was commemorated by another great pianist, Bill Evans, who faced his own struggles with the same demons. There is a bittersweet irony in the fact that his memorial dedication to Clark, NYC's No Lark, an anagram of the pianist's name, is one of the bleakest, most emotionally despairing pieces of music Evans ever wrote. Whatever his personal circumstances, Clark's own music rarely betrayed any such hint of the darkness which hovered over his life.” [Sources Blue Note LP insert notes and Kenny Mathieson’s Cookin’].”



Saturday, September 1, 2018

Winning the West -Buddy Rich Big Band - Bill Holman, composer/arranger

Woody Herman and Stan Kenton often receive credit, and deservedly so, for maintaining a big band over the span of decades in which many young Jazz musicians learned to ply their trade. Their bands' need for arrangements also provided a source of income for those musicians who wrote charts for a living. But often overlooked in this regard was Buddy Rich who fronted his own band from 1965 until his death in 1987 and who also provided numerous Jazz musicians and arrangers with many similar opportunities to work at and in their chosen profession. Buddy was often the focal point of controversy, much of it of his own making, but he deserves to be remembered as well for his significant contributions to the music and its makers.