Stan Kenton: The Beginning Days [From the Archives]

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

Michael Cuscuna and Michael Sparke have provided the editorial staff of JazzProfiles copyright permission to reproduce the following introductory portion of the insert notes to The Complete Capitol Recordings of Stan Kenton 1943- 1947 [Mosaic MD7-163].

We thought that this would be an excellent way to “begin-at-the-beginning” with the development of the many iterations of The Stan Kenton Orchestra.

Our plan is to follow this feature with a piece based on a portion of Bud Freeman’s insert notes to “The Kenton Era” which was originally issued as a 4-LP set on Capitol [and reissued as a 2-CD set on Sounds of Yesteryear], a profile of the orchestra during an era when it relied primarily on the arrangements of Bill Russo and Bill Holman [often referred to as The New Concepts of Artistry in Rhythm band], and then to wrap up our visit with the Kenton band with a piece focused on its Later Years or Last Decade from 1969 until Stan’s death in 1979.

© -Michael Sparke and Mosaic Records; used with the author's permission; copyright protected; all rights reserved.

“Stan Kenton always referred to the years when his band was young, the style had not yet been finalized, and its very existence was in jeopardy, as the beginning days. And at the beginning Stan, one of the most successful band leaders of all time, was quite convinced the job was not for him. He wanted a band very much, if only to hear played the library of scores he had written which he felt were new and different and adventurous; but he personally was too tall, too awkward, too tongue-tied to be a leader. His idea was he should play piano and write the music, but someone more capable should front the band for him.

In fact, when Stan conducted, he soon found his infec­tious enthusiasm, his magnetic personality and sheer physical presence were vital selling points; the Kenton charisma mesmerized his audience, and held them as spellbound as the unorthodox music the band was playing. There had been over a year of workshop rehearsals, test recordings, and more latterly the odd one night stand, before the Kenton orchestra opened its first proper engage­ment for the summer at the Rendezvous Ballroom in Balboa on June 6, 1941.

It was there that the teenagers of southern California discovered Stan Kenton, and gave him his first taste of suc­cess. They identified with his music, and their enthusiasm was reflected in the band's spirit and urged the musicians to greater heights. Stanley gave his all, and demanded as much from every member of the band, who responded with the zeal of men working for a cause, rather than a pay-packet. The sincerity was evident and contagious. As Audree (Coke) Kenton told me, "The Kenton band was so entirely different from anything the kids were used to. It was a totally different sound, and very exciting. Stanley was a dynamic, dramatic conductor. When Stanley got up there, he waved his arms and all but fell off the stage, twice a night. The youngsters responded to this, and what he was giving them was not what they were used to. It was not swing, in the way that Goodman and Shaw were swing; it was something new, and there was a tremendous excite­ment generated. Part of it was Stanley himself, a lot of it was the music, much of which he had written, and it just knocked the kids out. They had come to dance, but they would end up standing in front of the bandstand, hour after hour."

Many of the guys in the band were musicians Stan had enjoyed working with as sidemen in other orchestras (Everett Hoagland, Gus Arnheim, Vido Musso), and whom he knew had similar musical ideals to his own. Key men included Canadian-born trumpet soloist Chico Alvarez, destined to remain a Kenton stalwart for many years; first alto player Jack Ordean, who attracted much favorable attention for his Hodges-inspired saxophone improvisa­tions; tenor saxophone soloist and singer Red Dorris, formerly with Ben Pollack; band manager Bob Gioga, whose baritone anchored the saxophone section until 1953; and bassist Howard Rumsey, who would later lead Lighthouse All Stars.

Every night's performance at the Rendezvous was expertly programmed as Stan explained in a magazine called Band Leaders. "The band was originally designed, through both orchestration and presentation, to thrill as much as possible. I strove for flash and wanted every arrangement, whether slow or fast tempo, to be a produc­tion in itself. Everything was written to swing to a driving beat. Spirit and enthusiasm had to predominate at all times. I wanted to play the strongest swing possible and yet to present swing in as elevated a manner as I could. I fig­ured that 11:30 to midnight gave us our high period. Our climax was so complete at that time of night, that had you touched any kid in the audience, I think he would have thrown off sparks!"

The band's style was achieved through the writing of Kenton himself. But as early as 1940 Stan brought in musician-friend Ralph Yaw (who had also arranged for Chick Webb and Cab Galloway) to help ease the burden. Yaw copied the Kenton staccato-style beat and saxophone voicings, commenting, "To my mind, the saxes are treated in the right way for the first time. It really scares me!" Yaw contributed his scores for free because he knew money was tight, and he was happy to write for a band with which he felt so much empathy. During 1941, a young writer named Joe Rizzo also added numerous charts in the Kenton style. "Joe was a young Californian who felt the same way musically as I did," Stan, explained. Even after he was drafted into the army, Rizzo continued to contribute the odd score (I'm Going Mad For A Pad is Joe's), and in later years he became a permanent arranger for the Lawrence Welk TV show.

Despite all the success stories, by no means every night at the Rendezvous was a rave-up. Charles Emge wrote in Down Beat, "It would be an exaggeration to say the band has been a 'sensation.' It's too good to crash through in that manner." And many years later Stan reminisced on CBC radio, "Today we talk about the large crowds that came to Balboa and all the excitement that was created, and hon­estly, I don't think business was very good that summer. In fact, I remember times when we played that I actually wor­ried about whether the owner of the ballroom was going to come out financially or not."

Nevertheless, the publicity roused led directly to a Decca recording contract. But the first session was a dis­mal failure, the producer insisting on a toned-down taboo, and three other titles that were cover versions of existing hits, rather than the jazz scores the band was familiar with. Much better were the dozens of sides recorded for radio play by C.P. MacGregor Transcriptions. And on November 25, 1941, Kenton opened to excellent business at the most famed west coast ballroom of them all, the Hollywood Palladium. Count Basic told the story of how one night he invited his musicians traveling to their next job by bus, to listen to a Kenton broadcast from the Palladium. "That," Basic told his bandsmen, "will be the next king!"

Basie was right, but the crown was still several years away. On their first visit to New York in early 1942, Stan's music certainly did not thrill patrons of the Roseland Ballroom, where the band (in the vernacular) "fried an omelette." Everyone knew that Roseland, home of host­esses and strict-tempo dancing, was the wrong spot for the jazz happy Kenton crew, but it was still a major setback when the band was pulled out after only three weeks of an eight-week engagement. Word of the Roseland debacle spread quickly, and when a band hit that sort of trouble it was common practice for other leaders to swoop and pick up sidemen for their own orchestras. Kenton said it was Jimmy Dorsey who personally helped him in New York to keep his outfit together and protected him from being raided for musicians by other bands.

The guys hung in there with Stan until the draft started to hurt, but throughout 1942 the band faced an uncertain future and a daily struggle for survival. It was only Kenton's tenacity and belief in his music that enabled him to carry on in the face of public apathy and war-time adversities. Even the critics were beginning their war of attrition, com­plaining in particular that the music was too loud and pretentious. (It wasn't until the 1970s that Stan's music in general began to be recognized for its worth by the critical fraternity, something the fans had known all along.)

Stan was forced to make concessions to the song plug-gers, and play many of the pop hits of the day, usually sung by Red Dorris or Dolly Mitchell (who replaced Eve Knight in September 1942). But Kenton was determined that even pop tunes were going to be played in a musical way, and brought in a young writer named Charlie Shirley to help him with the arranging chores. Shirley told Pete Venudor, "I was hired by Stan because he was impressed with my work for the Sam Donahue band. Kenton was headed for a lot of radio air time and needed a full complement of cur­rent pop arrangements. So I was hired to help ease the pressure on Stan and try to develop a pop style for the band. Stan assured me he'd use anything I came up with in the way of experimental stuff, either pop or jazz. We exper­imented on the ballads with woodwinds and classic voicings, and I feel I had some influence on the direction Stan swung into after the war. Kenton himself was one of the straightest men I've ever met, a valued friend and a fine leader."

In the summer of 1943, comedian Bob Hope was look­ing for a new band to replace army-bound Skinnay Ennis, and liked what he heard in the Kenton outfit. Stan for his part was desperately trying to balance the books and knew the security of a year's work with the Hope entourage would ease his financial worries. Nevertheless, if ever there was a musical mismatch, the Kenton/Hope collabora­tion was it. Even as he was preparing to indulge in the onezy-twozy brand of corn demanded by Frances Langford, Jerry Colonna and Hope himself, Kenton was making state­ments like, "Out of the swing music of today will evolve an original, modern concert music distinctly American in character." Not on the Bob Hope Show it wasn't! Bob's weekly broadcast was probably the most popular on the air, but the house band received limited exposure, and within weeks Kenton was regretting his acceptance of Hope's con­tract, even though the alternative might have been no band at all.

Commercially a triumph, musically the Hope associa­tion was the nadir of Stan's entire career. But Kenton made clear his beliefs had not changed when he told Down Beat in July 1943, "Sure, I've made concessions that I never thought I'd have to make. It was either that or completely giving up a musical idea that I still think is right. But don't think I've said so long to my so-called idealism — I still think the kind of music we used to play exclusively is the best." And things really started to look up for Stan in the fall, when some record labels made overtures to the Musicians' Union to end the first recording ban, then in progress. As a result, Kenton was approached by Capitol Records, a young Hollywood company whose executives expressed a keen interest in the band's music and whose policy Stan felt to be more in keeping with his own brand of idealism than the more conservative Decca label.

Every Kenton devotee will have his own favorite period from the orchestra's four decades of recorded music. For some it may be the mellophonioum "New Era," for some the Holman/Russo "New Concepts," for others the roaring bands of the 1970s. But for many, the definitive Stan Kenton, the music that above all other epitomizes the sounds that made Kenton distinctive and different, is that of the 1940s, when Stan's reputation had still to be estab­lished, and his urge for creativity and experimentation was at its peak. Which is where our musical story in this album begins....”

Woody Herman - Portrait of a Jazz Legend [From the Archives]

After creating a video tribute to Broadway shows inspired by Woody Herman's 1964 Columbia LP Broadway My Way [reissued on CD as Columbia Sony CS 9157], the editorial staff at JazzProfiles thought it might be fun to reprise this feature about Graham Carter's loving tribute to Woody and to add the newly developed video at the conclusion of this piece..

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

Boy, I sure miss Woody Herman, no less so after viewing Graham Carter’s brilliantly conceived and executed documentary DVD - Woody Herman: Blue Flame – Portrait of a Jazz Legend.

Graham is the owner-operator of Jazzed Media through which he periodically issues CD’s by and DVD’s about Jazz musicians like composer-arranger-big band leader Bill Holman, alto saxophonists Phi Woods and Bud Shank, tenor saxophonist and big band leader Don Menza, trumpeter and big band leader Carl Saunders, vibraphonist and big band leader Terry Gibbs, and vocalists Jackie Cain and Roy Kral and Irene Kral.

You can review his catalogue as well as locate order information by visiting Graham’s website at www.jazzedmedia.com.

I have been a fan of Graham and his efforts on behalf on Jazz for many years.  I have no idea why he keeps issuing such high quality digital products devoted to Jazz subjects and personalities, but I suspect that in large measure, what he does is a labor of love as very few people have ever become wealthy due to their involvement with Jazz.

Year-after-year, Graham skillfully scripts, produces and narrates Jazz documentaries and also produces recordings of high audio quality and artistic merit.

By way of analogy, he reminds me of the developers and builders who constructed the attached homes in what is commonly referred to as “The Avenues,” the western part of San Francisco where most of the people who work in the city’s hotels, restaurants and shops live and raise their families.

After the land was purchased and the construction funds were borrowed from the bank, these homes were generally put up two at a time. When both houses were sold, the real estate developers would use the funds from the sale to start the process all over again.

These homes, which have come to be known as “railroad Victorians,” were custom-crafted in much the same way that Graham approaches his projects.

The railroad Victorians were made for working people and their families and Graham’s CD’s and DVD’s are made to honor the Jazz musicians who make the music and the fans who appreciate it. He covers his costs through his sales and uses some of his proceeds to pay for his next project.

The comprehensive scale and attention to detail that he applies to his films, in particular, makes them really deserving of a wider audience than one made up of Jazz fans alone.

Graham’s Jazz documentaries are as much social and cultural histories as they are musical tributes and they will offer a lasting legacy of knowledge and information to future generations curious about the subject of Jazz in the 20^th century.

Michael Bloom, whose firm is handling the media relations for Woody Herman: Blue Flame – Portrait of a Jazz Legend, has prepared a fact sheet to accompany the DVD’s release and its details are copied below.

As usual, Michael has put together an informative synopsis that covers the significance of Woody’s career and what you can expect to see as you view the documentary DVD.

In addition to this information, I wanted to share some personal thoughts and feelings about Graham’s film.

After viewing it, my primary impression was how little I really knew about Woody Herman’s contributions to Jazz over his fifty years as a bandleader from 1936-86.

Some Jazz fans grew up with Woody’s various bands – often referred to as “Herds – I didn’t. I came in somewhere in the middle and never knew much about Woody’s origins in the business. And make no mistake about it, Woody was in the Jazz “business,” and, as Graham explains, it’s a good thing he was as a lot of young Jazz musicians got their start in the music thanks to Woody perseverance with the business side of things.

The trials and tribulations that Woody endured over the years are all portrayed in the film.

Woody’s half century in Jazz is an amazing accomplishment from a commercial standpoint, let alone an artistic one.

And while it was never easy for Woody [or anyone else, for that matter] to make a buck in the business, some of the tragic circumstances that undercut and dogged him throughout his career are no less painful to recall 25 years after his death in 1987.

Yet, Graham never makes Woody an object of sympathy.  Instead, he emphasizes a term of endearment that many used when referring to him – “Road Father.”

Graham helps us understand that what Woody endured on behalf of the many musicians who were on his bands over the years are what the patriarch of any family is traditionally expected to undertake, let alone withstand.

Woody protected his family of musicians: he provided for them, nurtured them and helped them grow and develop both as people and as artists.

One look at the following chapter sequence tells you all you need to know about the comprehensiveness of Graham’s movie.

- Opening Title – “Four Brothers”

- Road Father

- The Early Years, 1913-1935

- The Band That Plays The Blues, 1936-1943

- The First Herd, 1944-1946 – “Who Dat Up Dere?”

- The Second Herd, 1947-1949 – “I’ve Got News For You,” “Lemon Drop,” “Early Autumn”

- The Third Herd 1950-1955

- The Fourth Herd 1956-1959 – “The Preacher,” “Your Father’s Moustache”

- The Swinging Herd, 1960-1967 – “Caldonia,” “Woody’s Boogaloo”

- The Thundering Herd, 1968-1979 – “Blues in the Night”

- The Young Thundering Herd, 1980-1986

- Early Autumn, 1987

- The Chopper – The Legacy of Woody Herman

Watch them in chronological order or click on each chapter individually and you are in for a celebratory feast of music, commentary, interviews, photographs, film and TV clips including many with Woody himself modestly reflecting on some of the highlights of his career.

And although it’s main theme has to do with one of the central figures in contemporary Jazz history, Graham has put together a heartwarming and enduring story that will reach out to anyone interested in the human experience.

The technical part of the film never intrudes.

It’s a fun film to watch and is an example of the informal “art” of storytelling at its best.

Graham allows Woody’s story to unfolds at a pace that is an entertaining as it is educational.

Fortunately, Jazz has had a number of caring, conscientious and talented people “tell its story” over the years.

Thanks to his work on Woody Herman: Blue Flame – Portrait of a Jazz Legend, let alone the many, other projects that he has undertaken on behalf of the music, you can add Graham Carter’s name to that list of notables.

© -Michael Bloom/Media Relations, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

"WOODY HERMAN: BLUE FLAME"

JAZZED MEDIA'S LATEST DOCUMENTARY TRIBUTE

“In recognition of the Centennial celebration of Woody Herman's birthday in 2013, Jazzed Media will release "Woody Herman: Blue Flame", a feature length documentary film by award winning producer & director Graham Carter, produced in association with The Woody Herman Society. It provides an in-depth look at Herman's 50+-year career as a big band jazz leader and features rare film and video performances of The Woody Herman Orchestra including broadcasts from The Ed Sullivan Show and Iowa Public Television.

Woody Herman led his big band for over 50 years, starting in 1936 and all the way to his death in 1987. His story is one that parallels the changes in jazz, from the Swing Era in the 1930s through bebop and cool jazz in the 40s and 50s, and the emergence of jazz/rock fusion in the 60s and 70s (Woody returned to his straight-ahead jazz roots in the 1980s). Considered one of the greatest big band jazz leaders, Herman is fondly remembered by his fans and by the many musicians and friends associated with his various bands.

Herman was also responsible for helping bring to fame many jazz stars who got their start on his band - to name only a few: Pete Candoli, Conte Candoli, Flip Phillips, Neal Hefti, Terry Gibbs, Stan Getz, Al Cohn, Zoot Sims, Sal Nistico, Bill Chase, Frank Tiberi, Alan Broadbent, Joe Lovano, and Jeff Hamilton. Essential to the forward-thinking and always contemporary music of the Herds were some of the finest jazz composers/arrangers of the past seven decades including Ralph Burns, Neal Hefti, Shorty Rogers, Gene Roland, Gerry Mulligan, Bill Holman, Nat Pierce, John Fedchock, Gary Anderson, John Oddo, and Alan Broadbent.

DVD includes:

Documentary film includes almost 400 rare photographs and images of Woody and his various bands over a 50+-year career. Features interviews with 35 musicians and jazz historians associated with Woody Herman (including Phil Wilson, Joe Lovano, Terry Gibbs, Jeff Hamilton, Sonny Igoe, Frank Tiberi, Dr. Herb Wong, Dan Morgenstern, and Bill Clancy) and extensive filmed interviews with Woody. Film and video performances of the Woody Herman Orchestra are also featured. DVD Total Viewing Time: 110: 00.

Jazzed Media: Dedicated to releasing new and previously unreleased jazz media of the highest possible musical integrity and production standards.

Jazzed Media, a jazz record label and film production company, was founded in the Denver, Colorado metropolitan area in 2002. Jazzed Media's owner Graham Carter is a multi-Grammy nominated record producer (The Bill Holman Band "Live" and The Bill Holman Band "Hommage") and award winning jazz filmmaker (Phil Woods: A Life in E Flat, Bud Shank: Against the Tide, and Stan Kenton: Artistry in Rhythm). Jazzed Media owner Graham Carter has recently produced & directed a documentary film on big band jazz legend Woody Herman titled Woody Herman: Blue Flame.

Jazzed Media offers both newly recorded jazz sessions and historic recorded jazz not available previously. Newly recorded jazz offerings are performed by the world's greatest jazz musicians coupled with state of the art recording facilities. Historic jazz recordings are thoroughly restored to the best sonic condition via computer software programs and dedicated engineering talent. Extensive liner notes and photographs are utilized whenever possible to increase the musical listening experience. A recent

Jazzed Media CD release, Lorraine Feather's Ages, received a 2011 Grammy nomination for Best Jazz Vocal Album.

Jazzed Media also produces and distributes jazz documentaries utilizing leading edge production techniques and extensive interview segments of jazz greats.

Filmmaker Graham Carter has received the following awards for films released through Jazzed Media:

Phil Woods: A Life in E Flat- Portrait of a Jazz Legend

2005 Telly Awards - Silver 2005 Videographer Awards - Award of Excellence

Bud Shank: Against the Tide- Portrait of a Jazz Legend

2009 EMPixx Awards - Gold Award

2008 Aurora Awards - Gold

2008 Telly Awards - Bronze

2008 Videographer Awards - Award of Distinction

Stan Kenton: Artistry in Rhythm- Portrait of a Jazz Legend

2011 Telly Awards - Bronze

2011 Videographer Awards - Award of Excellence

2011 EMPixx Awards - Platinum Award: Documentary

2011 EMPixx Awards - Platinum Award: Use of Music

www.JazzedMedia.com”

Woody Herman's Big Band performing a Duško Gojković arrangement of "Lot Of Livin' To Do."

Charlie Mariano and Me [From the Archives]

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

“I don’t know any Jazzman who has as good a sense of melodic development in his solos as Charlie.  The lines he finds!  And he’s so warm.”

- Shelly Manne

I have always had a special fondness for combos with a trumpet and alto saxophone “front-line.” Perhaps this was because one of the first Jazz groups I ever worked with had this configuration.

I liked the brightness of the brass and the crackling sound of the higher register alto saxophone, especially when paired with a trumpet.

The combination just sounded so hip.

But I had no idea how brilliant this pairing could sound until I encountered it in the form of Stu Williamson on trumpet and Charlie Mariano on alto saxophone.

Stu and Charlie were on the first Contemporary LP that I ever bought at my neighborhood record shop. The rhythm section was Russ Freeman on piano, Leroy Vinnegar on bass and, of course, Shelly on drums.

Entitled Shelly Manne and His Men, Vol. 5: More Swingin’ Sound [Contemporary S-7519, OJCCD-320-2], it was recorded on July 16^th and August 15-16, 1956 and, as I was to learn later, it was a sequel of sorts to Shelly Manne and His Men, Vol. 4: Swingin’ Sounds [Contemporary S-3516, OJCCD-267-2].

Shelly kept this version of The Men together for a little over two-and-a-half years years until Charlie Mariano made the decision to move back to his native Boston, MA in 1958.

Nat Hentoff has described the music by this band as “ … lean, angular, rhythmically probing, and emotionally striking in a hard unsentimental way.”

The music on Vol. 5 was fresh, crisp and clean as was much of Southern California in the 1950s. To use a friend’s favorite phrase: it was “happy, joyous and free.”

Richard Cook and Brian Morton writing in the Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD, 6^th edition reflected that the recording contained – “…excellent early material from a notably light and vibrant band fronted by the underrated Stu Williamson and the always inventive Charlie Mariano. … Shelly played as soft as he ever did, and with great control on the mallets.”

Three things about the music on this album struck me immediately and forcefully: [1] Shelly Manne’s use of tympani mallets, [2] the luminous trumpet work of Stu Williamson who also plays valve trombone surprisingly well and, most of all, [3] the plaintive wail that was so much a part of Charlie Mariano’s alto saxophone tone.

All three were most audibly on display in Quartet, Bill Holman’s extended composition.

Of Quartet, Bill Holman writes: "Originally Shelly's idea was a long piece for the group, possibly with several sections, moods and tempos, long enough to extend the written parts and yet have space for blowing.

My interpretation: a jazz piece written especially for this group with its personality in mind; predominantly written, not too technically difficult to impair the jazz feeling, lines written to be played with a jazz feeling. Several sections to give con­trast, form and continuity necessary for a piece of this length.

Construction: 1st and 4th parts built mainly on traditional blues progression, very closely related thematically. 2nd part related to first and fourth, but to lesser degree. 3rd part melodically unrelated, but drum figures imply theme from 1st and 4th. Shelly improvises drum intro, develops theme. The four sections correspond broadly to the four movements of the classical sonata form. This form used, not because it is a classical form (See: Efforts to Combine Classical and Jazz Music) but because it has proved itself, thru centuries of use, capable of supporting (as framework) a composition of this length.”

I was so enchanted by the warm and melodious sound that Shelly got using mallets on drums that I don’t think I struck my drums for days with a regular drumstick after hearing this album. [He unhinged the snare strainer to gain an additional tom tom sound from that drum and used heavily-cushioned tympani mallets to produce a mellow tone – no pun intended]

But it was Charlie’s playing on the 2^nd movement of Holman’s Quartet that really got to me, especially when he begins soloing which you can hear at 3:00 minutes of the following video tribute to Mariano:

I’ve listened to a lot of Jazz over the past 50 years or so, but this one grabs me every time.

The second movement or the “development” portion of the sonata is where the harmonic and textual possibilities of the “exposition” [theme] are explored.

On Quartet, the second movement is taken at a slow tempo, one that is almost at the pace of a funerary dirge. On it, Charlie sounds like he is in mourning, crying after the soul of a lost friend or loved one. His tone has such a vocal quality to it.

“Soulful” would become a word that was used often in relationship to Jazz, but nothing I ever heard then or now is as soulful as Charlie’s playing on this track.

Thus it was that I waited with baited breath for the CD version of this most-favorite album to appear and when it did, I rushed down to the Tower Records Store on Columbus Avenue in San Francisco’s North Beach and snapped up a copy.

But when I got the CD home and played it, I was astonished to find that the producer has substituted a different Part 2 on the disc version of the album!  What’s even more interesting is that Parts 1,3 & 4 of Quartet remain as they were on the LP!!

You can hear the change for yourself as the CD version of Part 2 of Quartet forms the soundtrack to this tribute to the late artist Salvador Dali, 1904 – 1989. 

Charlie’s solo commences at 3:12 minutes on this version. 

Shelly’s use of tympani mallets is on display during the interlude between the end of Stu Williamson’s valve trombone solo [2:34] and the beginning of Charlie’s improvisation.

What a jolt. After listening to this piece on the LP for over three decades and literally having memorized it note-for-note, an alternate track inexplicably materializes.

At first, I was deeply disappointed in not having a digital version of one of my very favorite Jazz recordings.

That is until I realized how shortsighted I was in not accepting the gift that was being presented to me.

Now I had two, different solo interpretations by Charlie of this most beautiful Jazz ballad.

I told Charlie my story at a 3-day festival in May, 2003 sponsored by the Los Angeles Jazz Institute.

He said that he rarely ever went back to listen to his old recordings but he was so touched by my reaction that he would listen again to Vol. 5 and More Swingin’ Sounds.

I wonder if he ever did, listen again?

I do, often.

Here are some salient features of Charlie’s career.

Charlie Mariano: jazz saxophonist

The alto saxophonist Charlie Mariano had two distinctly different musical personalities. On the one hand he was an incisive bebop soloist who extended the ideas of Charlie Parker with skill and panache, contributing to many recordings with Stan Kenton, Shelly Manne and the bands of his former wife Toshiko Akiyoshi. On the other he was a restless musical explorer whose style was difficult to categorize, investigating Eastern music and learning to play the “nagasvaram”, fusing Indian music with jazz, playing free improvisations with the cream of the European avant-garde, and pioneering rock fusion, most famously in his own group Osmosis and in the multinational United Jazz and Rock Ensemble.

For the most part, Mariano’s musical identities were separated by the Atlantic Ocean. He made his initial reputation as a bebop player in his native United States, before settling in Europe at the start of the 1970s and using his home in Cologne as the launching pad for his travels and exploration. However, one aspect of his work transcended physical and musical boundaries, in that Mariano was a gifted and strong-minded teacher, passing on his wealth of knowledge to students worldwide after the success of his first teaching posts at the Berklee School of Music in Boston.

Born into an Italian-American family in Boston, Carmino Ugo Mariano soon had his name Anglicized to Charles Hugo, and before long, simply Charlie. Although he listened keenly to opera and jazz in roughly equal proportions at home, he did not begin to play music until he acquired his first saxophone at the age of 18. However, he soon made up for lost time, playing within months of starting the instrument in some of Boston’s roughest bars before being drafted into a military dance band.

Stationed in Los Angeles in 1945 he heard Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie at Billy Berg’s Hollywood nightclub, and was immediately inspired to learn all he could about their style, transcribing Parker’s records and learning his solos by heart.

Back in Boston in 1946 he went through the standard musical apprenticeship of the era, paying his dues in the bands of Shorty Sherock, Larry Clinton and Nat Pierce, but simultaneously studying at Schillinger House, which was expanded into the Berklee School during his time there. In 1953 he was recruited for Stan Kenton’s band on the West Coast, and after two years in this high-profile job he joined the drummer Shelly Manne for a more settled work pattern involving less touring and more time in the Los Angeles area. This produced some of his most distinctive early records, such as his contributions to Manne’s album The Gambit.

Leaving the West in 1958 to return to Boston, Mariano started teaching at Berklee, and playing with the trumpet tutor there, Herb Pomeroy. He met and was married to the Japanese pianist Toshiko Akiyoshi, forming a quartet with her that first recorded in December 1960. The group (and the marriage) lasted seven years, and during that time they traveled widely, making several records in Tokyo for RCA Japan with a mixture of Japanese and American jazz musicians. Mariano also arranged for Akiyoshi’s Japanese All Stars big band.

Back at Berklee for a time in the early 1960s, Mariano also played and recorded with Charles Mingus, most famously on the album The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady. Mariano greatly liked Mingus’ workshop methods of developing new music, using experience as much as academic theory, and formed his own jazz workshop-cum-nightclub in Boston.

Mariano’s interest in fusion started when rock music was in its infancy. Osmosis was formed in 1967, and he went on to work with the European free jazz and rock fusion band Pork Pie with the guitarist Philip Catherine and keyboard player Jasper Van’t Hof.

From the late 1960s to the mid-1970s he also traveled widely in the Far East and India, absorbing local music and instrumental techniques.

In 1975 he was invited to join the United Jazz and Rock Ensemble, originally formed for a German television chat show, but soon developed by the keyboard player Wolfgang Dauner into an independent band in its own right. Mariano played reeds alongside the English saxophonist Barbara Thompson, and also in the line-up were the trumpeters Kenny Wheeler and Ian Carr (obituary, February 25, 2009), the bassist Eberhard Weber and the drummer Jon Hiseman. The group’s debut recording Live in Schützenhaus became Germany’s biggest selling jazz album of all time. The group continued to tour and record into the present century.

From the late 1980s until the present, Mariano had been an energetic freelance. He worked with the Swiss bandleader George Gruntz, in individual projects with several members of the United Jazz and Rock Ensemble, and with the oud player Rabih Abu-Khalil. He also returned to his earlier American style of playing at occasional reunions of Kenton band colleagues, and in Al Porcino’s Big Band.

In 1995 Mariano was given a diagnosis of prostate cancer and warned that he might only survive another year. He threw himself into work with greater zeal than before, as well as undergoing alternative therapies, and brought his burly frame, shock of white hair and broad-toned saxophone sound to a characteristically wide range of musical projects, culminating last year in a final series of reunions with Catherine and Van’t Hof both in the recording studio and in a triumphant concert at the Theaterhaus in Stuttgart.

Charlie Mariano, jazz saxophonist, was born on November 12, 1923. He died on June 16, 2009, aged 85

Texas Tenors - David "Fathead" Newman and Curtis Amy Revisited

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

Texas tenor saxophonists ... "Texas tenors."

The first time I heard the term described as such was on a Riverside Records LP entitled The Sound of the Wide Open Spaces: James Clay and David "Fathead" Newman [12327].

I thought that it might be fun to use one of its tunes as a soundtrack for a video tribute to some of the better known practitioners of the Texas Tenor style and to have the video serve as an introduction to a re-posting of earlier features on David and Curtis Amy

“The Texas Tenor style” is defined by Ted Gioia in The History of Jazz as:

“A blues-drenched tenor sax style … characterized by honking’, shoutin’, riffin’, riding high on a single note or barking out a guttural howl.” [p. 341]

Cannonball Adderley once referred to the Texas tenor sound as "a moan within the tone."

Orrin Keepnews in his insert notes to James Clay’s Double Dose of Soul [Riverside RLP-9349/OJCCD-1790-2] states it this way:

“For Clay becomes the most recent addition to a long tradition of outstanding tenormen from the big state (among them: Arnett Cobb, Illinois Jacquet, Budd Johnson, most of whom seem to share the same compelling Texas ‘moan’ in their tone).”

Jerry Atkins in his magnificent treatment on the subject for The International Association of Jazz Record Collector’s IAJRC Journal [Vol. 33, No.2, Spring 2000] puts it more succinctly when he states:

“What is a Texas Tenor? In the world of Jazz, it’s a saxophonist born in or near the Lone Star State and playing with uniqueness in sound and ideas that many have tried to describe.”

Jerry includes in his essay on Texas Tenormen, Herschel Evans, Buddy Tate, Budd Johnson, Illinois Jacquet, Arnett Cobb, Don Wilkerson, Booker Ervin, John Hardee, James Clay, David ‘Fathead” Newman and Michael Ivery.

David "Fathead" Newman: Tough Texas Tenor

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

“It's always been a mystery to me why Da­vid "Fathead" Newman isn't one of the most popular instrumentalists of the second half of the twentieth century.

He's got the intellectual chops to play be-bop, ballads or blues with a backbeat and with feeling, creativity and authority. He's got more taste than most living musicians; his sparse obbligatos behind Ray Charles on the magnificent live version of "Drown In My Own Tears" should be required listening for anyone licensed to carry a horn.

When he plays a note with the unique Texas tenor tone, every cell in my body comes alive.

That Texas tenor sound is a phenomenon in itself. David, Don Wilkerson, Booker Ervin, James Clay, King Curtis and Wilton Felder were some of its major exponents to emerge in the fifties. As different as their styles were, they shared a rich, hard, vibrato-less sound and a clear, deliberate articulation.

The sound is strong, sure and prideful, but with an underlying vulnerability. It's pas­sionate. … Cannonball Adderley described it as ‘a moan inside the tone.’ …”

- Michael Cuscuna, 1997

“When I was coming up in Dallas, all the older guys, especially the saxophone players, had a big, wide-open sound.”

- David “Fathead” Newman

“The Texas tenor sound and concept is very much unlike, and in advance of, the Coleman Hawkins of 1929 and beyond. It is a more fluent, more melodic and blues tinged approach, perhaps more elegant, too.”

- Günter Schuller

During an interview with him, I once asked Orrin Keepnews, who for many years was the proprietor and co-owner of Riverside Records, why he labeled the album he co-produced with Cannonball Adderley for David “Fathead” Newman and James Clay, The Sound of the Wide Open Spaces [Riverside RLP 1178; OJCCD-257]?

“Because,” he said, “ like Arnett Cobb, Illinois Jacquet, Bud Johnson, Buddy Tate, and a bunch of others, David and James seem to have the same compelling Texas moan in their tone.”

Even now, after all these years, when I listen to the music of tenor saxophonist David “Fathead” Newman, it always calls to mind Orrin’s phrase – “a compelling Texas moan.”

In his notes to David’s recording entitled Resurgence, which along with Still Hard Times has been reissued on CD as David “Fathead” Newman: Lone Star Legend [Savoy Jazz SVY 17249], Michael Cuscuna offered these insight on the Texas tenor sound, David Fathead Newman’s relationship to it and the salient features of David’s career up to when these recordings took place for Muse in 1980 and 1982, respectively.

© -  Michael Cuscuna, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

The legend and aura surrounding Texas saxophonists is clearly based in fact. Whether from Houston in the south or Dallas-Fort Worth in Central Texas, that state has spawned an array of impressive artists for generations, all toting a hard veneer and a soul that can em­brace the world. Only listening can reveal the bond that links Herschel Evans, Arnett Cobb, Illinois Jacquet, Booker Ervin, Wilton Felder et al.

A geographically genetic genre. An oral tradition and a testament to environment.

Consider the dramatic differences between David Newman, James Clay, King Curtis, and Ornette Coleman, all within a couple of years of the same age, all in Dallas-Fort Worth revolving around the band of the legendary saxophonist Red Connor in their teens.

Dig beyond their obvious stylistic differences, and you will hear the same voice, the same cry, the same bending of the note, the same powerful, but vulnerable sound.

On one end of the spectrum in the forties was Ornette Coleman, the oldest of the bunch. Red Connor would often scold or fire him for memorizing and perfectly executing Charlie Parker solos, an exercise that Connor felt to be uncreative. On the other hand was King Curtis (Ousley), mastering and crystallizing the rich blues and R & B tradition, but snubbed by Connor and the Beboppers of the day. History would vindicate men as their visions focused and their contributions became irrefutable. Fusing both extremes and all the riches that lie in between were men like David Newman, a master who has yet to receive his due.

Still in his teens, David built a strong repu­tation around Dallas before going on the road with Lowell Fulsom and T-Bone Walker, a road that rarely led far beyond the borders of Texas. He was playing alto and baritone saxophones at the time. He and Ray Charles had crossed paths on several occasions in the early fifties. When Charles put together a permanent working band in 1954 with the effective instrumentation of two trumpets, two saxophones and rhythm, he recruited Texas tenorman Don Wilkerson and David Newman, playing primarily baritone, but occasionally doubling on alto. A year later, Wilkerson left. David was offered the tenor saxophone chair. Of course, he accepted the new position and the new instrument. And the rest, as they say, was hysteria.

David's solos, obligate fills and ensemble voice were stunning testaments to the art of R & B. His understated, soulful creations matched the essence of Ray Charles perfectly. Charles recorded a couple of instrumental al­bums that featured Newman's talents. The band's repertoire was beginning to include pieces by James Moody, Horace Silver, Max Roach and Milt Jackson.

By 1958, Memphis-born Benny Crawford, primarily a pianist and alto saxophonist, se­cured the baritone saxophone chair with the Charles band, bringing into it his own ideas and sound. A few months later, Detroiter Marcus Belgrave would assume one of the trumpet chairs. In July, the Ray Charles band would perform (and record) at the Newport Jazz Festival. In November, at Ray's instigation, Atlantic would record the first album by David Newman with the Charles band of the time mi­nus the second trumpet. And that meant David on alto and tenor, Crawford on baritone (and contributing three tunes), Belgrave on trumpet, Ray Charles himself on piano, Edgar Willis on bass and Milt Turner on drums.

In 1959, Charles added Leroy Cooper on baritone sax, freeing Crawford to return to alto saxophone. In the process, he changed his first name to Hank and affirmed his own startling identity. He too began recording for Atlantic, maintaining the essence and style of that orig­inal Ray Charles instrumentation throughout his ten year stint with that record company. On the first three albums (1960-62), he used the band minus Charles intact. And that meant more opportunities to hear David.

But for David Newman, any outside activity after his first album seemed to be an oppor­tunity to break away from the Charles mold. In 1960, he recorded a straight-ahead date for Riverside with James Clay and his second Atlantic album. Although Marcus Belgrave con­tributed a tune, the setting was strictly quartet with Wynton Kelly, Paul Chambers and Charlie Persip, a clear statement of hard-core jazz. His third album schizophrenically offered a hard bop quintet with Belgrave on trumpet and a funky, blusier quartet with Crawford at the pi­ano and Ray Charles' bassist and drummer.

In 1964, David left Ray Charles' orga­nization, which had been since 1960 a full-fledged and less personal big band. He gigged locally around Dallas and turned his attentions to his family in its crucial years. By 1967, he began commuting to New York. By this time, he was playing soprano sax, as well as alto, tenor and flute. He re-established his ties with Cedar Walton, who was his pianist on local Dallas gigs when they were both still in their teens. He also re-established his relationship with Atlantic Records.

In March, he made his first album in five years, using a Texas guitarist who had recently migrated to New York. His name was Ted Dunbar, and that was his first recording session. The tune that drew attention to the album was one that Walton had just given to him, when they were working out on a friend's piano. It was "To The Holy Land[Recorded on the 1967 House of David Atlantic LP 1489]." A month later, New­man and Walton would appear together on a Lee Morgan session for Blue Note, recently released as "Sonic Boom."

Throughout the late sixties, David continued to record a succession of albums under his own name and appear on dates led by organist Don Patterson, Lonnie Smith, Shirley Scott and Charles Kynard. After rejoining Ray Charles briefly in 1970, he became a member of Herbie Mann's Family of Mann, a vehicle that allowed his tenor saxophone and flute work to shine and allowed him to contribute to the band's book of compositions as well. It was this band that first recorded "Davey Blue."

Although he left Mann in 1974, David continued to record albums of his own for Atlantic (and its sister label Warner Bros.) until 1977. He did studio work for the likes of Aretha Franklin, Cornell Dupree, Nikki Giovani, T-Bone Walker and Ben Sidran and made oc­casional live appearances. But David's em­phasis shifted back to Dallas during the late seventies except for three heavily arranged albums for Prestige that were misguided in the sense that they obscured the identity of the man whose name appeared on the record cover.

In the summer of 1980, David arrived in New York and transcended his shyness, call­ing all his old friends in town to announce his presence and his availability. We all responded with delight, and many things grew out of it. Among them is this record date, his first pure effort in years. The cast featured old associates, including Hank Crawford who came to the ses­sion with "Carnegie Blues" freshly written and tucked under his arm.

There could not have been a more appropriate date to record this album than September 23, the birthdate shared by Ray Charles and John Coltrane. Welcome back to New York, “Fathead.”

It had been my plan to use the 1967 version of To The Holy Land from The House of David Atlantic LP as the audio track on the following video tribute to David “Fathead” Newman, but WMG had other ideas and muted the audio when the video was uploaded to YouTube.

So instead we turned to the 1980 version of the tune Michael references in his notes to the Resurgence LP with David on tenor sax, along with Marcus Belgrave on trumpet, Ted Dunbar on guitar, Cedar Walton on piano, Buster Williams on bass and Louis Hayes on drums.

And if you are in the mood for contrasts, with the help of the crackerjack graphics team at CerraJazz LTD, I also developed another video that shows actual images of The Holy Land, in this case, Jerusalem, with a big band version of Cedar’s tune for the sound track as provided by the Jazz Orchestra of the Concertgebouw. Peter Beets does the solo honors on piano.

Curtis Amy: Testifyin' Texas Tenor

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

That Texas tenor sound is a phenomenon in itself. David “Fathead” Newman, Don Wilkerson, Booker Ervin, James Clay, King Curtis and Wilton Felder were some of its major exponents to emerge in the fifties. As different as their styles were, they shared a rich, hard, vibrato-less sound and a clear, deliberate articulation.

The sound is strong, sure and prideful, but with an underlying vulnerability. It's pas­sionate. … Cannonball Adderley described it as ‘a moan inside the tone.’ …”

- Michael Cuscuna, 1997

One could certainly add the name of Curtis Amy to the above list of Texas Tenor saxophonists.

Soul and Funk were the big, new discoveries of a number of Jazz record companies in the early 1960s. With their heavy backbeats and simple melodic refrains, the soulful and funky Jazz styles appealed to a wider audience, particularly those who liked their Jazz laced with a heavy dose of rhythm and blues.

The origins or “roots” [an “in” word for those times] of soulful and funky Jazz supposedly were to be found in their connection to the religious music that was sung and played in southern Baptist and Pentecostal churches. Music, as well as, prayer was one means of penitence, or, in the parlance of the times, testifyin or signifyin’ one’s spiritual allegiance.

Bluesy albums set to a boogaloo beat were another by-product of this era of Jazz commercialism and words like “funky” and “groovy” and “soulful” were plastered all over LP covers.

It was a fun music to play, especially if you were a drummer. Nothing complicated. Music played at slow-to-moderate tempos, with melodies mainly derived from 12-bar blues and lots of rim shots or two-beat shuffles tapped out on the snare and bass drums.

The vocal epitome of this style of music was “brother” Ray Charles whose tambourine-totting background singers were always there to show the audience where to clap their hands or stomp their feet on the second and fourth beats of every bar of the music.

But, hey, even Jazz musicians have to eat and pay the rent and the popularity of Soul and Funk provided lots of gigs until the dramatic rise of Rock ‘n Roll took things in a different direction in the 1960s.

Tenor saxophonist Curtis Amy came to prominence during this era and the titles of some of his recordings – The Blues Message, Meetin’ Here, Way Down, Groovin’ Blue, - are reflective of it.

Texas tenorman Curtis Amy had a long and distinguished career as a jazz artist, studio musician and  record executive. During his years with Pacific Jazz, he recorded six superb albums that revealed an artist who constantly challenged himself as an improviser and as a composer.

With the exception of Katanga which was issued as a limited edition CD in 1998 by Blue Note as part of its West Coast Classics series [CDP 94580], none of Amy’s output for Pacific Jazz was reissued digitally until Michael Cuscuna and his team at Mosaic Records collected all six of the Amy Pacific Jazz LP’s and put them out as a 3-CD Mosaic Select boxed-set in 2003.

Here is the text from mosaicrecords.com announcing this set.

The Bluesy Drive of a Great Texas Tenor.

“There’s nothing quite like the mournful cry or the bluesy drive of a great Texas tenor saxophonist. Curtis Amy was of the same generation as Booker Ervin, David Fathead Newman, James Clay and Wilton Felder, but his time in the jazz spotlight was brief. Amy had a beautiful sound and a style that was both muscular and lyrical. Although he had a long and successful career in his transplanted home of Los Angeles, much of it was spent doing high profile studio work and working with his wife, the extraordinary Merry Clayton.

During his years with Pacific Jazz (1960-63), he recorded six superb albums that revealed an artist who constantly challenged himself as an improviser and as a composer. After The Blues Message and Meetin’ Here, two soulful collaborations with organist Paul Bryant, he moved into more textured hard bop surroundings, fronting sextets with varied instrumentation. He and Frank Butler co-led Groovin’ Blue, which features Carmell Jones and Bobby Hutcherson. Way Down includes Roy Ayers, Marcus Belgrave, Victor Feldman and valve trombonist Roy Brewster among others.

Tippin’ On Through was recorded live at the Lighthouse with Ayers and Brewster among others. Amy’s final album for the label Katanga is regarded as his masterpiece; it featured the legendary trumpeter Dupree Bolton as well as Ray Crawford and Jack Wilson. From the furious be-bop of the title tune to the lament "Lonely Woman" to the hypnotic, extended performance of "Native Land", Amy's work as an improviser and composer is at its zenith. Trumpeter Dupree Bolton, who made an impressive debut on Harold Land's "The Fox" three years earlier, is absolutely dazzling with a brash attack, formidable chops and very original ideas.

Although he made two more albums (in 1966 and 1994) and recorded with Gerald Wilson and Onzy Matthews, the six albums that he made for Pacific Jazz – all contained in this Mosaic Select set represent his greatest legacy. Amazingly, five of them make their appearance on CD for the first time.”

Thomas Conrad offered the following review of the Mosaic Select: Curtis Amy set in the May 2004 edition of JazzTimes.

© -Thomas Conrad, JazzTimes, May 2004, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

“For all those who have regarded Mosaic boxed sets as the gold standard among jazz reissue programs, the recently introduced Mosaic Select series requires some spirit of compromise. The seventh release in the series, for example, provides only six short paragraphs of current retrospective on the career of tenor saxophonist Curtis Amy. In a "real" Mosaic collection, we would have gotten a full-size catalog, an extravagance of session photos and a new in-depth essay by a leading Amy authority with voluminous discographical data. In this three-CD set, we get only the undistinguished original liner notes.

But if the Select series is budget-challenged, it is also free to go where big Mosaic boxed sets cannot-for example, to artists whose recorded output is sparse, and/or whose appeal is limited to (in Mosaic founder/producer Michael Cuscuna's words) "a relatively small but discerning audience."

Case in point, Curtis Amy. He came out of Houston, Texas-a fact that is announced with his entrance on the very first track of disc one, "Searchin'." After Paul Bryant's plaintive prologue on Hammond B3, Amy emerges with a huge, long, braying wail, a sound that only emanates from one (Lone Star) state.

Unlike the other great Texas tenors who came up in the '40s and '50s (Illinois Jacquet, Arnett Cobb, Booker Ervin, David "Fathead" Newman, et. al.), Amy went west. He settled in Los Angeles in 1955, became active on the L.A. scene and recorded six LPs for Richard Bock's Pacific label between 1960 and 1963. All six are here, and only one of them, Katanga!, has ever been previously reissued on CD. Between 1963 and 1994, Amy recorded only once under his own name. During these years he played in L.A. big bands, toured with Ray Charles, and worked as a studio musician, record company executive, and actor. He died at the age of 72 in 2002.

Amy was more than just a special player. He was a commanding figure with a big, blustering sound and chops to burn, a teller of definitive tales of the soul. The first two albums represented, The Blues Message and Meetin' Here, with the little known Bryant, are examples of the tenor/organ combo genre as powerful as anything that ever came out of New York. Amy could testify with anyone, and he was also an exceptional ballad interpreter ("Come Rain or Come Shine," "Angel Eyes").

The progress of these six albums moves from deep blues grooves to more textured and sophisticated-but still soulful-approaches. Along the way, a door is opened to a subset of West Coast jazz much earthier than the famous "cool school," while still reflecting a sunnier environment than that of East Coast hard bop. Amy surrounds himself with some of the best players of that time and place, like Carmell Jones and Dupree Bolton and Frank Strazzeri and Frank Butler. But his own clarion, assertive voice always dominates.

The collection culminates in what Michael Cuscuna calls "Amy's masterpiece," Katanga!. It is indeed an album where everything magically works, from inspiration through execution. Pianist Jack Wilson and guitarist Ray Crawford use their allotted space beautifully, and Amy, in a stunning purity of tone, introduces his new instrument, soprano saxophone. But Katanga! will always be remembered as the last documented appearance on record of trumpeter Dupree Bolton, one of the most mysterious and tragic figures in the history of jazz. Bolton could spit fire and turn the flames into music on a level approaching Clifford Brown. But after Katanga! he disappeared into prisons, institutions and a life on the streets.”

The following video montage features Curtis Amy on soprano saxophone playing his original composition Lonely Woman. The tune is included on the Mosaic Select set and the Katanga CD. Curtis is joined by Dupree Bolton on trumpet, Ray Crawford on guitar, Jack Wilson on piano, Victor Gaskin on bass and Doug Sides on drums.