My normal schedule as a working musician
includes multiple duties at Hamilton College in Upstate New York. Those duties
encompass private saxophone lessons, directing a saxophone ensemble, and overseeing
the Fillius Jazz Archive. Playing gigs and writing the occasional arrangement
for local groups supplement my day-to-day schedule.
This past spring semester I had a welcome
addition in the form of directing the Hamilton College Jazz Ensemble. This is
an opportunity presented to me every five years when the college jazz professor
takes a sabbatical. I am familiar with big bands. The bands of Glenn Miller,
Count Basie and the like were my first inspiration to pursue music. In college
I was a member of the SUNY Fredonia Jazz Ensemble; I led a high school jazz
ensemble in the Utica area; and I’ve played on and off with local big bands
over the years.
Jazz bands do not require “conducting”
per se. The groove should already be there from the rhythm section, and the
waving of arms in a traditional sense is perfunctory. As band leader Bill
Holman stated in our February 1999 interview, “well, things that are in tempo,
dance band or jazz band charts, conducting is kind of a grand word for it,
because what you do is get them started and get them stopped.” For me, a few
cues from the hips, hands and eyes suffice.
Most instrumental teachers from the
middle school level and up are now expected to direct a jazz ensemble. They
learn that the standard instrumentation consists of five saxophones, four
trumpets, four trombones, and one each of piano, bass, drums and guitar. A
vocalist is optional.
This year at Hamilton the band I
inherited consisted of six saxophones, two trombones, one trumpet, three
guitars, three drummers, a pianist, and three vocalists (two male and one
female). Both Hamilton student bass players were spending the semester abroad. And
while I avoid hiring ringers, I did engage a local bassist, Sean Peters, to
fill in. No bass, no band! I sought out a second student trumpet player and
recruited a tubist from the brass ensemble. This gave me a marginal brass
section, significantly out of balance with the six hard-blowing saxophonists. To
be honest, I welcomed the challenge and would have been disappointed if I had
inherited a band with the requisite person in each chair ready to read
store-bought arrangements as written. I have always loved arranging music as
much as playing it, and here was my opportunity to get my licks in, both
writing charts and tweaking others for the band’s strengths and weaknesses.
From our first rehearsal I made it clear
that learning by ear and spontaneity would be part of our process. We learned
Ellington’s “C Jam Blues” and James Brown’s “I Got You (I Feel Good)” without written music or lyrics. To keep
the extra drummers, guitarists and singers engaged, I arranged a piece that
included a part for rhythm sticks.
Our two weekly rehearsals were leading to
two on-campus performances in May. My eclectic tastes in music were reflected
in our concert program, which ultimately ended up in a healthy number of tunes,
14 to be exact, in multiple styles. A gig in the college café served as a
warm-up for the main event in a concert hall on May 5.
I have always had faith in the blues to
catch people’s ears, so our first two numbers of the performance were 12-bar
blues: Cannonball Adderley’s “Sack O’ Woe” and Bobby Troupe’s “Route 66,”
giving one of our vocalists his first appearance. The rest of the concert
consisted of classic swing from the 1930s, a ballad “At Last” to feature our
girl singer, and a premier performance of an upbeat Latin chart composed by our
one music major in the band. I was cognizant of the fact that our five-man
brass section was going to need a break during the middle of the concert, and
also that variety and changes in groove are an integral part of a successful
performance. With that in mind, we featured each section of the band. Guitarists played Django Reinhardt’s “A Minor Swing”:
The saxes ripped through Woody Herman’s
“Four Brothers” (which I can tell you can survive without any brass at all).
The singers exactly mirrored the vocal
trio of Lambert, Hendricks & Ross, so we gave the audience what was most
probably their first exposure to the extremely catchy tune “Yeh Yeh”
with lyrics by Jon Hendricks.
The brass were featured on Horace
Silver’s “The Preacher,” and our three drummers engaged in a tom-tom battle on
the Benny Goodman classic “Sing Sing Sing.”
The band then reconvened for a medley. I
think it’s safe to say that this was the first combination of these particular
songs. Trombonist Al Gray wrote a wonderful ear worm called “Echoes of New
Orleans,” written to reflect his experience of hearing marching bands pass by
his hotel room during Mardi Gras. The planets aligned for this particular song.
One of our saxophonists played decent clarinet, a New Orleans staple, and a
guitarist fortuitously doubled on banjo. With the tuba, these additions added
the exact right touch. I had an intuition that our “I Feel Good” vocalist might
know how to really play the
tambourine — the kind with the head on it. At one rehearsal I handed it to him
and said, “when I give you the nod, let me hear what you can do.” And he really
captured the sound of the street. A fade out ending, mimicked the band disappearing
down the street, and we transitioned into controlled cacophony. A shouted,
“one-two-three-four-WHAP” “I Feel Good” announced our last tune. In a dress
rehearsal that afternoon I told the horn players to feel free to rise up out of
their seats, since there was no written music. They took me at my word and
their impromptu dance around the stage helped inspire a standing ovation at the
end of the concert.
Invariably an unexpected situation occurs
at such events. I took considerable care in discussing the appropriate dress,
the banning of cell phones during the concert, no practicing on stage, etc. I
failed to announce, “no shorts,” which apparently can be part of a collegiate
dress wardrobe. When three male band members appeared with bared legs, the only
thing to do was seize the moment and stage an impromptu “fashion show,”
complete with improvised piano accompaniment.
Music teachers are not often taught about
arranging. It’s a skill that can be learned from books, but is better experienced
by doing, starting with flute duets, transitioning to saxophone quartets,
followed by two and three part choral arrangements. You have to learn what to
do and what not to do, depending on the age level you are writing for. Computer
programs like Sebelius and Finale help. But the musical intuition you learn
throughout your career is the best aid.
Leading a band every year is much like
having a sports team. Your best and your worst players eventually will move on.
And what you get from one year to the next will vary, sometimes immensely.
Arranging skills can help you use this situation to your advantage by
customizing charts for the strengths and weakness of the players in any given ensemble.
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