I’ve
stated before that my performing repertoire and listening habits can hardly be
considered current or up to date. My role as Jazz Archive Director at Hamilton
has strengthened my enjoyment of jazz music and personalities from the past —
the swing era and the soloists from the 30’s and 40’s. My “songs for gigs” list
reflects this obsession and my “current tunes” are now mostly from the 50’s and
60’s.
My
passion for this music was reinforced and well-satisfied during the last three
weekends. The annual Fallcoming concert at Hamilton for the last five years has
featured a group led by pianist Dick Hyman. This year’s members included
guitarist Bucky Pizzarelli, trumpeter Randy Sandke, drummer Jackie Williams,
and bassist Jay Leonhart. Jazz fans will raise their eyebrows at such an
impressive cast of characters.
For
Fallcoming Jazz ‘13 we tried something different than the normal organized jam
session format. A number of years ago, a Dick Hyman CD entitled “From the Age
of Swing” came to my attention. I fell in love with the creative arrangements
for a four-piece rhythm section and four horns, consisting of alto and baritone
saxes, trumpet and trombone. Mr. Hyman’s charts captured the feel of the early big
band era, and his imaginative writing was a joy to hear and play. The quintet
was augmented by Syracuse trombonist Greg McCrea, Hamilton student Deanna Nappi
on baritone sax, and myself on alto sax. Here’s a YouTube link of the
first tune we played on this concert.
We
played the Hyman charts on September 27, and I found myself immersed in musical
heaven. Randy on trumpet faithfully reproduced the approach and sound of Joe
Wilder, the trumpeter on the original recording. The rhythm section provided an
indescribable bed of swing, demonstrating the power of organized simplicity,
and it wouldn’t have happened without the 4/4 chordal strumming of Bucky
Pizzarelli, who also was on the 1999 recording. Guitarists describe this as
“Freddie Green,” the style of strumming that Mr. Green provided for the Count
Basie Orchestra for nearly 50 years.
Here’s
a description of that style from Bucky, taken from his 2003 interview:
Bucky Pizzarelli |
MR: Is
there some distinguishing thing about what Freddie Green did that’s possible to
verbalize?
BP: It’s
very hard to describe what he did but he played a 4/4 beat with an accent on
two and four, and he just kept chunking away. And if you study the music of
Count Basie, the rhythm section never played figures with the band. When they
played eighth-quarter-eighth, you know, they just kept chunking away through
the whole thing. And it works better that way. The minute everybody’s doing the
same thing it doesn’t work. It’s like a drummer hitting figures with the brass
section. It’s terrible.
Jay Leonhart,
Bucky’s rhythm section-mate at Fallcoming, described the specifics that make it
work:
Jay Leonhart |
JL: I’ve
heard Bucky, and who else, James Chirillo … the two of them, they’ll take the
third and the seventh, right in the middle of the strings, right in that nice
middle range around middle C, which on the piano would be — and they’ll just
sit and play the third and the seventh. It’s either a minor third or a major
seventh. Or maybe a sixth if they want to get adventurous. And they can just
sit there and play like that. And the only notes coming out of the guitar are
the relevant ones. And they’re not doubling the third, like making Bach turn
over in his grave ... It’s so defined and clear. And as a result their chops
are good because they’re not making a lot of moves and they’re not trying to
play six notes with every … they can concentrate on the time, and they do. And
that’s the way Bucky plays. Yet he’s a grand soloist when he plays songs by
himself, he can really play the guitar. He’s not just a two, three and seven
guy. He can really play the guitar.
This
steady pulse allows everyone in the band to play less, and we know less equals
more. It was a memorable moment, transporting me back to the time when this
style was the popular music of the day. Mr. Hyman skillfully led the 8-piece
ensemble, which had only engaged in a run through of the charts. As an added
bonus, Deanna, one of my students, acquitted herself with great skill on the
baritone saxophone. The biggest difference from actually performing this music
during its original lifespan was the setting. If we had been performing in 1937
in a dance hall, the success of the band would have been determined by the
number of dancers on the dance floor. This music has now been elevated to an
art form worthy of a seated audience in a concert hall setting.
The
next weekend I traveled to SUNY Fredonia, for another round of nostalgia. The
annual Fredonia Jazz Ensemble reunion concert took place on Friday evening. In
similar fashion, an all-too-brief rehearsal preceded a concert by members of
the original members of the Fredonia Jazz Ensemble from the classes of the
1970’s. This weekend is always a mix of music and camaraderie, reconnecting
with musicians from those brief college years who shared a love for big band
music. At the time, we took pride in the fact that we were operating outside
the conventions of the music program. In the mid-70’s jazz had not been
embraced by the majority of music schools, and the jazz ensemble was a
student-directed affair. Our repertoire this night consisted of familiar big
band fare, but from the bands that thrived after the swing era. Material from
Buddy Rich, Stan Kenton and the Thad Jones-Mel Lewis bands provided plenty of
challenge. Most of us playing that night had harbored fantasies of getting a
call to join one of these groups and abruptly leaving our studies in avid
response.
As
an incentive for my own writing, I always compose a new work for this weekend,
and I can be confident that it will be played well and with great spirit. My
new piece, “Angelica,” was received a good deal of praise, making it worth the
time and effort.
The
last step on my time travel took me back even further. I got a call to play a
dinner dance entitled “A 1920’s Jazz Gala.” While my musical tastes have
traveled backwards, the 1920’s was pushing it even for me. A fair amount of
research was required for this Great Gatsby-era gig. It was an authentic
recreation of a 1920’s speakeasy with period clothing encouraged for all
attendees; a non-alcohol event in the spirit of prohibition. This time the songs
included tunes you would find in dusty sheet music archives: “Alexander’s
Ragtime Band,” “The Charleston,” and “3 O’clock in the Morning.” My current quartet
rose to the occasion. The drummer brought vintage drums and the required
whistles, woodblocks and cowbells that were so much a part of this upbeat
small-band jazz. I was happy to see a number of college and high school
students among the attendees, illustrating the fact that some eras carry a
magical aura all their own. Here’s a photo of our group from this nostalgic
evening.
(L-R) Monk Rowe, Tom McGrath, John Hutson, and Sean Peters |
The
three consecutive weekends provided a welcomed musical challenge and a personal
sentimental journey.
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