4 These two anthologies, <I>Thriving on a Riff: Jazz and Blues Influences in African-American Literature and Film</I>,” and <I>The Hearing Eye: Jazz and Blues Influences in African-American Visual Art</I> can be read together or slowly consumed together. Both books, edited by Graham Lock and David Murray (Lock is a writer; Murray, a British scholar) are collections of essays and interviews on jazz and blues and how both are central to American culture and the black experience. This is new ground (the essays being new) but the subject matter is hardly new because jazz and blues’ cultural analysis is widespread. <I>Thriving on a Riff </I> is the more familiar terrain; essays about how African-American literature and film are abundant and almost interchangeable for film considering film, jazz, and blues, developed in popular culture side by side in the 20th century as a result of technology. “Thank, Jack, For That: The Strange Legacies of Sterling A. Brown” by Steven C. Tracy is representative of the depth of <I>Thriving on a Riff </I>. Brown is the most important jazz-blues poet in history and it is appropriate he is celebrated and examined here. Likewise, the interview with long time spoken word jazz-poet superstar, Jayne Cortez, “Giving Voice,” (Lock asks the questions) fits as well.On the film side, Mervyn Cooke’s piece on Duke Ellington, “Anatomy of a Movie: Duke Ellington and 1950’s Film Scoring,” is an impressive addition to the literary canon on Ellington’s musical legacy proving again that jazz-blues-cinematic explorations have only just begun. <I>The Hearing Eye</I> also edited by Lock and Murray feels a bit fresher (unexplored might be more accurate) because visual art (paintings, photography, and other visual forms) is not the daily pulse of a community like music and movies. But appropriately, Romare Bearden, the celebrated African-American visual artist who painted as if he were composing jazz or blues, is discussed in two essays (“‘We Used to Say Stashed’: Romare Bearden Paints the Blues” by Robert G. O’Meally, and “‘Blues and the Abstract Truth’ Or Did Romare Bearden Really Paint Jazz?” by Johnannes Volz.). Both present passionate writing on a key figure in black visual art in America. Paul Oliver’s “’Selling That Stuff’: Advertising Art and Early Blues on 78’s” is probably the best work here though there are many to pick. Oliver, a long time writer on the blues, provides a classy account of “race” music through the history of advertising and promotion in the field. Oliver’s well known catchy writing is in place. It sets the standard for an anthology that takes chances repeatedly and delivers. true 211 2009-10-15T21:53:48-04:00 false 25214 true 21 2009-10-15T00:05:00-04:00 2009-10-15T00:05:00-04:00

Two anthologies look at the relationship between jazz and the arts

2009-10-15T22:26:52-04:00

4 While it is difficult at times to completely follow Harvard University professor Ingrid Monson’s every shifting thesis in <I>Freedom Sounds: Civil Rights Call Out to Jazz and Africa</I>, this is a very enjoyable read. It is, I assume, intentional that the book feels improvisational, and free like the jazz she discusses. The book, more accurately, is like gumbo because it combines many historical, cultural, and political strains to make a point about the black experience, political struggle, and black cultural expression in the modern era. Monson simply follows jazz through time, mainly through the time when black people in America sought their freedom and equality. <I>Freedom Sounds</I> begins with the famous story of Louis Armstrong basically denouncing President Eisenhower for his failure to protect the black students integrating the schools in Little Rock, Arkansas and this is a fine example of everything Monson wants to do. Armstrong, criticized often during his career for being uninterested in the black struggle for equality and for low level accommodating posture, got it right in the heat of the moment that time. <I>Freedom Sounds</I> is full of these moments. Dave Brubeck, the piano legend, who is white, appeared on the cover of Time Magazine in 1954, and it is, of course, considered a cultural crime against Duke Ellington, the legend of all legends in jazz. Ellington didn’t hate; he congratulated Brubeck, who, needless to say, was worthy. Other tidbits are part of the known history as well and Monson does raise these moments high. Jazz musicians helping to raise money for the Civil Rights struggles. Duke Ellington touring Africa via the U.S. State Department. Jazz musicians consider revolting against the record companies and the clubs in the 1960’s along with their blacker, freer versions of jazz. A section in “<I>Freedom Sounds</I> entitled, “Color Coded Styles,” is indicative of Monson’s deep research and this is why this work is truly trustworthy. The section discusses the various jazz styles – hard bop, third stream, West Coast (cool), etc., and reveals the simplistic attempt to label cool jazz as white and hard bop playing as black. Monson is skillful here and the narrative is easy to connect. This most interesting book is incredibly important but the thesis probably requires five times as many pages to explain jazz’s complex relationship to race, racism, and American sociological history. Monson has gotten the discussion started. true 211 2009-10-15T22:18:15-04:00 false 25217 true 21 2009-10-15T00:04:00-04:00 2009-10-15T00:04:00-04:00

Book examines relationship between jazz and the Civil Rights movement in the '60s

2009-10-21T12:46:02-04:00

4 Anyone who has studied or read about the compositional output of Edward Kennedy “Duke” Ellington always wondered how Ellington became so prolific in writing long form jazz compositions. Yet, more importantly, some (myself included) wondered why. John Howland’s book, <I>Ellington Uptown: Duke Ellington, James P. Johnson, and the Birth of Concert Jazz</I> provides an answer. Howland’s scholarly text concludes that there is a tradition here that was developed, and in that respect, there are ideals and concepts that were nurtured in the segregated world of Black America that allowed Ellington and one of his musical heroes and mentors, James P. Johnson to provide a template of cultural enrichment in music with a symphonic sound. While Howland admits that Ellington and Johnson were different and “pursued richly diverse professional careers,” they arrived in the same place: where jazz began to exhibit very apparent components of a highly developed musical form, something that is an afterthought in jazz now, but is need of more study. The first chapter, “From Clorindy to Carnegie Hall” metaphorically lays out Holland’s premise. This is jazz’s journey from entertaining vaudeville shows to respect on the big stage before the world. The best evidence is Ellington delivering his celebrated masterwork, “Black, Brown and Beige” in 1943 in Carnegie Hall. Holland hails it as a “landmark” and in the context of Holland’s book – evidence of Ellington’s interest in “extended… suites.” James P. Johnson, Ellngton’s hero is here too and this is important. Long since lost in jazz scholarship, Johnson’s early stride influenced piano compositions like “Yamecraw” represent what Ellington would accomplish later: make an authentic cultural and historical statement about the black experience in America. Holland ultimately notes that Johnson’s song “demonstrates important perspectives on the strategies for racial uplift in Harlem entertainment.” Harlem is a constant in <I>Ellington Uptown</I> too, its influence, its uniqueness. The other constant is Holland’s sharp scholarship and the intellectual beauty of jazz music. true 211 2009-10-15T22:09:49-04:00 false 25215 true 21 2009-10-15T00:03:00-04:00 2009-10-15T00:03:00-04:00

Anyone who has studied or read about the compositional output of Edward Kennedy “Duke” Ellington always wondered how Ellington became so prolific in writing long form jazz compositions. Yet, more importantly, some (myself included) wondered why. John Howland’s book, Ellington Uptown: Duke Ellington, James P. Johnson, and the Birth of Concert Jazz provides an answer. Howland’s scholarly text concludes that there is a tradition here that was developed, and in that respect, there are ideals and concepts that were nurtured in the segregated world of Black America that allowed Ellington and one of his musical heroes and mentors, James P. Johnson to provide a template of cultural enrichment in music with a symphonic sound. While Howland admits that Ellington and Johnson were different and “pursued richly diverse professional careers,” they arrived in the same place: where jazz began to exhibit very apparent components of a highly developed musical form, something that is an afterthought in jazz now, but is need of more study. The first chapter, “From Clorindy to Carnegie Hall” metaphorically lays out Holland’s premise. This is jazz’s journey from entertaining vaudeville shows to respect on the big stage before the world. The best evidence is Ellington delivering his celebrated masterwork, “Black, Brown and Beige” in 1943 in Carnegie Hall. Holland hails it as a “landmark” and in the context of Holland’s book – evidence of Ellington’s interest in “extended… suites.” James P. Johnson, Ellngton’s hero is here too and this is important. Long since lost in jazz scholarship, Johnson’s early stride influenced piano compositions...

2009-10-15T22:27:22-04:00

4 Poetry collections about jazz, or in the jazz idiom are abundant and almost always special. (Full disclosure: your author published one in 2001, so I adore these efforts). Poet and English professor Phillip S. Bryant’s <I>Stompin’ at the Grand Terrace</I> is slightly different because it is “jazz memoir in verse” meaning it is about jazz but it also about the author’s relationship to that jazz. Complete with an accompanying CD, Bryant delivers the music but mostly, he delivers some good poetry that has depth and range. Using a friendship between his father and his buddy, Preston, as the entry point into the verse, Bryant’s words and stories are the chatter of life, the specific memories of a man and bard. “How She Smelled” answers the call well and is a good example fo Bryant's groove: “I used to love the end of church services - the big women crowded towards the basement rooms…” Other pieces are pure commentary on jazz, and history, such as “The Death of Bill Evans,” a tribute the famous white piano player who carries the day on Miles Davis’ classic, “Kind of Blue.” With a few photographs interspersed, <I>Stompin’ at the Grand Terrace</I>, is scrapbook-like, a double memory for the reader, of a time and place not long ago, and a poet’s eternal love for his father’s music, but mostly, the world that his father gave him. true 211 2009-10-15T22:14:05-04:00 false 25216 true 21 2009-10-15T00:02:00-04:00 2009-10-15T00:02:00-04:00

Poetry collections about jazz, or in the jazz idiom are abundant and almost always special. (Full disclosure: your author published one in 2001, so I adore these efforts). Poet and English professor Phillip S. Bryant’s Stompin’ at the Grand Terrace is slightly different because it is “jazz memoir in verse” meaning it is about jazz but it also about the author’s relationship to that jazz. Complete with an accompanying CD, Bryant delivers the music but mostly, he delivers some good poetry that has depth and range. Using a friendship between his father and his buddy, Preston, as the entry point into the verse, Bryant’s words and stories are the chatter of life, the specific memories of a man and bard. “How She Smelled” answers the call well and is a good example fo Bryant's groove: “I used to love the end of church services - the big women crowded towards the basement rooms…” Other pieces are pure commentary on jazz, and history, such as “The Death of Bill Evans,” a tribute the famous white piano player who carries the day on Miles Davis’ classic, “Kind of Blue.” With a few photographs interspersed, Stompin’ at the Grand Terrace , is scrapbook-like, a double memory for the reader, of a time and place not long ago, and a poet’s eternal love for his father’s music, but mostly, the world that his father gave him.

2009-10-15T22:27:39-04:00

4 <I>Subway Moon</I>, saxophonist’s Roy Nathanson’s very engaging collection of poetry, begins in German. You will be taken a back by it at first if you don’t understand the language, but don’t fret; Nathanson’s accessible verse is forthcoming, Or as Jeff Friedman notes in the Introduction to this collection: Roy Nathanson “scores silence with words and words with silence.” This is an obvious music connection meaning. Nathanson’s poetry is music, in other words; and I suspect, his music is poetry. Nathanson’s biggest strength as musician-poet is he takes the word seriously which is not always the case with musicians who write verse. One of the gems from the collection, “sound system” is evidence of Nathanson’s attention to craft: …Mud and shit fly/through the walls/of the day/spitting the plaster and odd bits of brain cells/ onto the mixing board.” Throughout, Nathanson is not afraid of the personal either and the political, the music of life, and the times that he is living. “extra: bombs over lebanon again” captures this sentiment when he shouts quietly the following: “Truth is nothing shines today.” And then there is the epic, “father’s day” which brings this fine collection to an end: “…my father was not a great man, not even necessarily a good man…” Nathanson writes. This is the honestly of Nathanson’s work again that he expresses proudly in “subway moon,” a book that is a journey into music and the vision of a man. true 211 2009-10-15T22:25:56-04:00 false 25218 true 21 2009-10-15T00:00:00-04:00 2009-10-15T00:00:00-04:00

Subway Moon , saxophonist’s Roy Nathanson’s very engaging collection of poetry, begins in German. You will be taken a back by it at first if you don’t understand the language, but don’t fret; Nathanson’s accessible verse is forthcoming, Or as Jeff Friedman notes in the Introduction to this collection: Roy Nathanson “scores silence with words and words with silence.” This is an obvious music connection meaning. Nathanson’s poetry is music, in other words; and I suspect, his music is poetry. Nathanson’s biggest strength as musician-poet is he takes the word seriously which is not always the case with musicians who write verse. One of the gems from the collection, “sound system” is evidence of Nathanson’s attention to craft: …Mud and shit fly/through the walls/of the day/spitting the plaster and odd bits of brain cells/ onto the mixing board.” Throughout, Nathanson is not afraid of the personal either and the political, the music of life, and the times that he is living. “extra: bombs over lebanon again” captures this sentiment when he shouts quietly the following: “Truth is nothing shines today.” And then there is the epic, “father’s day” which brings this fine collection to an end: “…my father was not a great man, not even necessarily a good man…” Nathanson writes. This is the honestly of Nathanson’s work again that he expresses proudly in “subway moon,” a book that is a journey into music and the vision of a man.

2009-10-15T22:26:35-04:00

4 The subtitle of this compact and engaging book provides a bare thumbnail sketch for the narrative arc of the life of Hazel Scott, who was clearly a pioneer on several fronts. But certainly there is much more to her story and Karen Chilton does an excellent job telling it in succinct and lucid fashion. Scott was born in Trinidad but early in her life moved to Harlem with her mother, a frustrated concert pianist, who later became a jazz saxophonist. Scott was clearly a prodigy, enrolling as a private student at Julliard by the time she was eight and performing concerts shortly thereafter. Scott’s home life was difficult at least in part because of the intense demands on her at a young age, but Chilton doesn’t engage in the sort of literary psychoanalysis which has become de rigeur in modern biography. Instead she simply stays in the moment with her subject and readers can draw their own conclusions about the origin of Scott’s unique determination and pride. That pride led her to many a confrontation in the Jim Crow days when she came to prominence and that determination enabled her to take real action, via lawsuits, boycotts and public condemnation—all strategies which would in time be staples in the playbook for the Civil Rights movement that was to follow. Chilton smartly doesn’t feel the need to provide too much historical context for that time. Likewise, Chilton doesn’t get bogged down with explaining the genesis of swing and bebop, with which Scott became immersed. Scott was personally mentored by Fats Waller and Art Tatum, and her own piano style would draw heavily on those men and on her classical training. Indeed, Scott became known for a particular sort of piano-playing that was quickly labeled “Swinging the Classics” and Chilton deftly describes that musical approach (and others) in layman’s terms. Thanks to a regular gig at Café Society and subsequent appearances in Hollywood films (always playing herself), Scott became a glamorous and world-renowned performer. A fixture on the New York jazz scene of the 40s and 50s, her friends included Billie Holiday, Lester Young, Thelonious Monk, Dizzy Gillespie and Mary Lou Williams (who became perhaps Scott’s longest and closest friend). Indeed, Scott’s home became a salon for some of the most creative artists of the 20th century. Her own career sagged after a tumultuous marriage to Adam Clayton Powell, Jr, the larger-than-life Baptist minister and congressman. After their somewhat bitter split and an unyielding appearance before the Red-baiting HUAC, Scott emigrated to Paris and struggled though financial, emotional and physical issues, yet never lost that pride. Her letters to Williams and other friends vividly illustrate Scott’s discomfort with accepting the financial help that she desperately needed at that time. Throughout the book, relying on access to Scott’s unpublished memoirs, Chilton lets Scott’s words punctuate the events of her storied life. Perhaps the highest compliment one can pay to this fine biography is that during the first 150 pages the reader is wondering why Scott isn’t better known, at least in the jazz world. But by the story’s end in 1981 with Scott’s death from pancreatic cancer, the same reader knows exactly why, but is still likely to be singing her praises as a true trailblazer in African-American culture true 129 2009-10-11T14:52:41-04:00 false 25174 true 21 2009-10-11T09:00:00-04:00 2009-10-11T09:00:00-04:00

Biography of pianist/singer explains her legacy as a pioneer in jazz and African-American culture.

2009-10-19T16:05:59-04:00

4 Self-publishing has its merits. It can be a remarkable font of first-person or primary source material and it can allow worthy subjects heretofore ignored by large publishing houses to have their day in the sun. The downside is that certain professional standards may not be met. Both sides of the coin are evident here. This large soft-cover book is basically a photo scrapbook devoted to the life of John Levy, jazz musician-turned-manager, who turned 97 in April last year. Yes, 97. Looking through this book is very much like looking through Levy’s personal scrapbook of photos and memories. Although the book suffers from highly uneven quality of images and reproduction, there are many images that leave an indelible impression. For example, the chapter chronicling a trip by American jazz and soul musicians to Ghana in 1971 is filled with vivid images not just of performers like Roberta Flack, Wilson Pickett and Eddie Harris, but also of artists such as Les McCann and Ike & Tina Turner mingling with local villagers. There are lots of concert photos, as well as candid in-the-studio shots, and plenty of downright snapshots. Photos come from Levy himself, a notorious shutterbug, as well as from the author and Leroy Hamilton. As a bassist, Levy played with artists such as Ben Webster, Errol Garner, Milt Jackson and Billie Holiday. But it was his working relationship with George Shearing that turned Levy into a music manager in 1951, when he essentially retired as a working musician. Levy went on to manage Shirley Horn, Joe Williams, Nancy Wilson and other notable jazz artists. The photos and accompanying text well illustrate Levy’s unique position as one of the earliest and most successful African-American managers of jazz artists. In the mix of photos and commentary by the subject, the book also conveys a palpable joy of life and music over nearly a century. The project is clearly a labor of love by its author who is the wife of the subject and a professional writer. So it’s not surprising that Levy the author occasionally lapses into sentimental testimony to her husband’s talents and attributes. I can only hope my spouse would speak so highly of me when, make that if, I turn 97. true 129 2009-10-11T15:01:52-04:00 false 25175 true 21 2009-10-11T08:00:00-04:00 2009-10-11T08:00:00-04:00

Book about noted jazz manager uses scrapbook approach to tell the story of his life.

2009-10-12T10:41:17-04:00

4 Searle begins this work with an entertaining account of his introductory jazz learning experiences in the UK and then states his main purpose in writing this work: to show “brilliant jazz performances….(that) sometimes very obviously, and other times less obviously, allude to a real and specific situation in social or political history that shows how the music can never be divided from its circumstances, and the real world which produced it.” Searle spends the rest of the book chronicling such performances. The book should be read by anyone who believes that jazz is primarily motivated by technical musical mastery; Searle’s work serves as an excellent devil’s advocate’s survey against such a view. He describes many musical performances vividly despite stating that he has little technical understanding of music, and his best passages drove me to re-listen to some of the records he describes. North American readers will particularly also benefit from his extensive discussion of jazz’s role in apartheid South Africa and, to a lesser extent, as commentary on events in the UK. Searle, however, does not overcome a tautological problem, the book values performances that meet Searle’s clearly stated criteria more than those that don’t. Searle does not directly claim that Coltrane’s “Alabama” or Africa/Brass is better or more valuable than, for example, A Love Supreme, but performances that fit his claim are discussed while performances that stand outside of it are mostly ignored. This also skews his coverage of artists towards those serving the criteria; Archie Shepp is given a good deal of space while Dexter Gordon is mentioned only once in passing. The choice of performances seems also slanted toward Searle’s political views; performances that honor the Cuban revolution are glowingly discussed while the views and music of Paquito D’Rivera and Arturo Sandoval that are opposed to the Castro government are ignored. However, one cannot fault Searle too much for emphasizing what he stated he would emphasize from the onset, and those jazz lovers who have spent more time on technical aspects of the music may very well benefit from reading this book. true 208 2009-10-11T11:33:29-04:00 false 25170 true 21 2009-10-10T08:00:00-04:00 2009-10-10T08:00:00-04:00

Searle begins this work with an entertaining account of his introductory jazz learning experiences in the UK and then states his main purpose in writing this work: to show “brilliant jazz performances….(that) sometimes very obviously, and other times less obviously, allude to a real and specific situation in social or political history that shows how the music can never be divided from its circumstances, and the real world which produced it.” Searle spends the rest of the book chronicling such performances. The book should be read by anyone who believes that jazz is primarily motivated by technical musical mastery; Searle’s work serves as an excellent devil’s advocate’s survey against such a view. He describes many musical performances vividly despite stating that he has little technical understanding of music, and his best passages drove me to re-listen to some of the records he describes. North American readers will particularly also benefit from his extensive discussion of jazz’s role in apartheid South Africa and, to a lesser extent, as commentary on events in the UK. Searle, however, does not overcome a tautological problem, the book values performances that meet Searle’s clearly stated criteria more than those that don’t. Searle does not directly claim that Coltrane’s “Alabama” or Africa/Brass is better or more valuable than, for example, A Love Supreme, but performances that fit his claim are discussed while performances that stand outside of it are mostly ignored. This also skews his coverage of artists towards those serving the criteria; Archie Shepp is given a good deal of space...

2009-10-12T10:44:26-04:00

4 Baggenaes is a Danish writer whose interviews with seventeen musicians between 1972 and 1987 have now been collected and published in book form. Baggenaes’ questioning is good. Many of Bagganaes’ subjects are European musicians or musicians who spent a substantial amount of time on the continent and many of the musicians’ responses are well worth the reader’s time. The book contains the best interviews with Dexter Gordon and Warne Marsh that I recall and the interviews with Mary Lou Williams, Red Rodney, and Jackie McLean are particularly valuable. The book dates itself by the inclusion of interviews with Howard King, Marie-Ange Martin, and Marc Levin, none of whom would probably be have been chosen as a subject after the late 1970s. Both of these books barely weigh in at book length and are somewhat European centric. The value of the contribution of Europeans to jazz will probably be debated throughout all of our lives. While these books make a case for the contribution of financing of music on the continent and the quality of some Europeans’ musical output, most of their content will be only of great interest to those with very specialized taste or curiosity. Carr’s book might generate interest in some good musicians of a particular time and place whose work is now not easily heard. The best of Baggenaes’ interviews could interest any jazz fan, but like Carr’s book, much of the content will best function as a reference source in a well stocked university library. true 208 2009-10-11T11:37:55-04:00 false 25172 true 21 2009-10-10T08:00:00-04:00 2009-10-10T08:00:00-04:00

Baggenaes is a Danish writer whose interviews with seventeen musicians between 1972 and 1987 have now been collected and published in book form. Baggenaes’ questioning is good. Many of Bagganaes’ subjects are European musicians or musicians who spent a substantial amount of time on the continent and many of the musicians’ responses are well worth the reader’s time. The book contains the best interviews with Dexter Gordon and Warne Marsh that I recall and the interviews with Mary Lou Williams, Red Rodney, and Jackie McLean are particularly valuable. The book dates itself by the inclusion of interviews with Howard King, Marie-Ange Martin, and Marc Levin, none of whom would probably be have been chosen as a subject after the late 1970s. Both of these books barely weigh in at book length and are somewhat European centric. The value of the contribution of Europeans to jazz will probably be debated throughout all of our lives. While these books make a case for the contribution of financing of music on the continent and the quality of some Europeans’ musical output, most of their content will be only of great interest to those with very specialized taste or curiosity. Carr’s book might generate interest in some good musicians of a particular time and place whose work is now not easily heard. The best of Baggenaes’ interviews could interest any jazz fan, but like Carr’s book, much of the content will best function as a reference source in a well stocked university library.

2009-10-11T11:50:33-04:00

4 Veteran bassist Torff states early in his memoir that he is “the last of the young players who came of professional age in the 1970s who had the incalculable honor of working with older giants of blues, Dixieland, swing, bop, cool and beyond.”, which serves as a very good summary of his recorded career. Torff’s talent and his decision in the early 70s to concentrate on the double bass instead of the electric bass created opportunities for him to work with older musicians and his book provides excellent portraits of several, such as Stephane Grappelli, Milt Hinton, Erroll Garner, George Shearing, and, most memorably, Mary Lou Williams. Torff ‘s comfort with the accompanying role of his instrument carries over to his writing; he spends more time on the musicians that were important in his life than he does on himself. Torff started to move his musical focus from performing to teaching in the 80s and discusses the diminishing availability of live music since then and its effects on the way in which jazz is performed, experienced, taught and learned. His explanation of the factors that led him to professional success is well done, but, as he notes, the changes in the jazz business since the 70s make it unlikely that a young bass player will be able to follow his path today. His analysis of the decline in live music is accurate, and his feelings about it are well expressed, but not as original, distinctive, and memorable as the other aspects of his book. Torff is a concise writer and his authorial voice is entertaining and reads often like speech. The book is short and reads quickly and uses the reader’s time well. true 208 2009-10-11T11:41:30-04:00 false 25173 true 21 2009-10-10T08:00:00-04:00 2009-10-10T08:00:00-04:00

Veteran bassist Torff states early in his memoir that he is “the last of the young players who came of professional age in the 1970s who had the incalculable honor of working with older giants of blues, Dixieland, swing, bop, cool and beyond.”, which serves as a very good summary of his recorded career. Torff’s talent and his decision in the early 70s to concentrate on the double bass instead of the electric bass created opportunities for him to work with older musicians and his book provides excellent portraits of several, such as Stephane Grappelli, Milt Hinton, Erroll Garner, George Shearing, and, most memorably, Mary Lou Williams. Torff ‘s comfort with the accompanying role of his instrument carries over to his writing; he spends more time on the musicians that were important in his life than he does on himself. Torff started to move his musical focus from performing to teaching in the 80s and discusses the diminishing availability of live music since then and its effects on the way in which jazz is performed, experienced, taught and learned. His explanation of the factors that led him to professional success is well done, but, as he notes, the changes in the jazz business since the 70s make it unlikely that a young bass player will be able to follow his path today. His analysis of the decline in live music is accurate, and his feelings about it are well expressed, but not as original, distinctive, and memorable as the other aspects of his book. Torff is...

2009-10-12T10:43:10-04:00

4 Ian Carr, who died this February and is best known for biographies of Miles Davis and Keith Jarrett, was as good a writer as anyone who has written about jazz. He was also at least as good a musician as any writer with substantial output on the subject. This book, Carr’s first, was first published in 1973 and the use of the word contemporary in the title refers to that time. The subject is the state of jazz in England in the early 1970s and the book is organized around his major topics- Mike Westbrook, Mike Gibbs, Jon Hiseman, Chris MacGregor, Evan Parker, John Stevens ,Trevor Watts, and Carr’s own group at that time, Nucleus. The book concentrates on musicians who chose to center their careers in Britain and therefore touches only briefly on, for example, Dave Holland and John McLaughlin. There is some, but less, information about other British musicians such as John Surman, Kenny Wheeler, Stan Tracey, and Norma Winstone. Carr claims that jazz in England is for all and intents and purposes no different from jazz in the greater London area and compares audience and institutional support for jazz in Britain to America and to the rest of Europe, and finds it wanting. He cogently discusses why he believes the popularity of jazz and the economic support for its musicians declined in the late 1960s. His writing is as good as in his other works, but his subject here is of much lesser importance, and therefore of much lesser interest. Baggenaes is a Danish writer whose interviews with seventeen musicians between 1972 and 1987 have now been collected and published in book form. Baggenaes’ questioning is good. Many of Bagganaes’ subjects are European musicians or musicians who spent a substantial amount of time on the continent and many of the musicians’ responses are well worth the reader’s time. The book contains the best interviews with Dexter Gordon and Warne Marsh that I recall and the interviews with Mary Lou Williams, Red Rodney, and Jackie McLean are particularly valuable. The book dates itself by the inclusion of interviews with Howard King, Marie-Ange Martin, and Marc Levin, none of whom would probably be have been chosen as a subject after the late 1970s. Both of these books barely weigh in at book length and are somewhat European centric. The value of the contribution of Europeans to jazz will probably be debated throughout all of our lives. While these books make a case for the contribution of financing of music on the continent and the quality of some Europeans’ musical output, most of their content will be only of great interest to those with very specialized taste or curiosity. Carr’s book might generate interest in some good musicians of a particular time and place whose work is now not easily heard. The best of Baggenaes’ interviews could interest any jazz fan, but like Carr’s book, much of the content will best function as a reference source in a well stocked university library. true 208 2009-10-11T11:35:27-04:00 false 25171 true 21 2009-10-10T07:00:00-04:00 2009-10-10T07:00:00-04:00

Ian Carr, who died this February and is best known for biographies of Miles Davis and Keith Jarrett, was as good a writer as anyone who has written about jazz. He was also at least as good a musician as any writer with substantial output on the subject. This book, Carr’s first, was first published in 1973 and the use of the word contemporary in the title refers to that time. The subject is the state of jazz in England in the early 1970s and the book is organized around his major topics- Mike Westbrook, Mike Gibbs, Jon Hiseman, Chris MacGregor, Evan Parker, John Stevens ,Trevor Watts, and Carr’s own group at that time, Nucleus. The book concentrates on musicians who chose to center their careers in Britain and therefore touches only briefly on, for example, Dave Holland and John McLaughlin. There is some, but less, information about other British musicians such as John Surman, Kenny Wheeler, Stan Tracey, and Norma Winstone. Carr claims that jazz in England is for all and intents and purposes no different from jazz in the greater London area and compares audience and institutional support for jazz in Britain to America and to the rest of Europe, and finds it wanting. He cogently discusses why he believes the popularity of jazz and the economic support for its musicians declined in the late 1960s. His writing is as good as in his other works, but his subject here is of much lesser importance, and therefore of much lesser interest. Baggenaes is a...

2009-10-12T10:43:49-04:00

4 Veteran jazz journalist Ouellette’s biography is the first book published by ArtistShare and is not available in bookstores. Purchase of the book also enables the buyer to access photos, video, and interviews on line. Carter proposed the biography to Ouellette in 2004 and gave the writer his complete cooperation. The bio at first follows a relatively chronological approach while using Carter’s major student, and, later, professional affiliations as an organizing technique. Ouellette diverts from this about halfway through and organizes the remainder into chapters centered on Carter’s various ongoing ensembles and teaching. Tangential sections called snapshots and colloquies are also interspersed throughout and there are appendices. The bio claims that Carter is “justifiably heralded as the most recorded jazz bassist in.. history”, and attempts to touch base with many of Carter’s recorded performances, making it very thorough while perhaps providing a bit more information than some readers seek. The structure seemingly leads to some repetition that might have been avoided with a purely chronological approach. Carter’s professional colleagues are given a good deal of space to relate their experiences with him and Carter is often quoted throughout. The space given to the words of Carter and his colleagues often leads to a low level authorial presence which will please those who believe that musicians’ words are of more value than critics’. Carter’s accomplishments make him a clearly worthwhile subject for a biography and his place in the history of jazz makes much of the content worthwhile reading for anyone interested in the music, or bass playing. The reader will likely finish the bio with an accurate picture of Carter as a proud and fastidious man. He describes himself as “tall, handsome, and elegant”, “bright”,”the most recorded jazz bassist of the century”, “one of the bassists who helped move the bass to a new level”, and we are well informed about his success as an endorser in Japan, his taste in pipes and tobacco, cars, and stereo equipment besides his opinions on music, bass playing and teaching, and recording. I don’t take issue with Carter’s description of himself, and, the accompanying online videos of him represent him as interesting to listen to. Arguing against a portrait of Carter as an incredibly accomplished musician and one of the leading performers in the history of the bass is totally impossible, but it is possible to oversell it, as this book does. true 208 2009-10-04T10:03:04-04:00 false 25135 true 21 2009-10-01T08:00:00-04:00 2009-10-01T08:00:00-04:00

Authorized biography works hard to establish bassist's legacy.

2009-10-12T10:51:27-04:00

4 As its subtitle suggests, Krin Gabbard’s Hotter Than That: The Trumpet, Jazz, and American Culture has three different, related subjects, just not the three it claims. It is about the trumpet and jazz. In fact, Gabbard, for the most part, describes the familiar story of jazz history from Dixieland to swing to bebop, at least as it relates to African-American trumpeters. The focus is on Buddy Bolden, Louis Armstrong and Miles Davis. The book is not about American culture. But perhaps Gabbard’s editor declined to put the actual third topic of the book—black masculinity—in the title. In Gabbard’s telling, African-American trumpeters, living under racist oppression, were only able to express their masculinity through their instruments. He doesn’t take this argument very far. It does provide him an excuse to delve into Bolden, Armstrong and Davis’ personal lives, however, and to devote a chapter to a jazz trumpeters’ version of Hollywood Babylon. Actually, the book is at its best when Gabbard abandons history for his own personal story of taking up the trumpet again in his 50s and visits Midwestern instrument makers. A whole book on that subject would have been far more informative and enjoyable. true 10609 2008-12-23T14:43:50-05:00 false 21040 129 true 21 2008-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Delving into black trumpeters' personal lives, the author misses an opportunity or two.

2009-03-25T09:27:24-04:00

4 The title is inspired by the column “Jazz Idiom,” which Robinson wrote for the San Francisco State University (then San Francisco State College) newspaper in the ’50s. Author/poet Al Young’s lengthy and illuminating introduction documents his friend Robinson’s evolution as a photographer, and his love of jazz and how it influenced his work. Robinson’s photos were taken between 1969 and 1972 at the Monterey Jazz Festival and other Southern California locales. The book also thoughtfully includes mini-bios of all the jazz artists depicted, as well as a list of books on jazz for “further reading.” Each photo is enhanced by Robinson’s fascinating recollection of the photo shoot and the artist, plus an evocative “poetic take” or “riff” from Young. Monk, Duke, Mingus, Dizzy, Hines, Cannonball, Simone, Desmond, Miles, Eckstine, Jacquet, Mulligan and Hodges are among those sensitively captured both visually and with the written word in this collection. Young on Johnny Hodges: “‘Rabbit,’ they called you ... You sniffed out melody. You always had your way with a ballad; you took your time. You always took your time. Rabbits do not.” Robinson on Mary Lou Williams: “I knew of her stature and respected her stature, so I had to do an elbow number on a couple of white photographers ... you could look up her dress ... They wanted to take pictures of that. Every time the guy next to me raised his camera, I’d bump him. I did this about three times. They got the message.” true 329 2008-12-23T14:47:14-05:00 false 21041 129 true 21 2008-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

The title is inspired by the column “Jazz Idiom,” which Robinson wrote for the San Francisco State University (then San Francisco State College) newspaper in the ’50s. Author/poet Al Young’s lengthy and illuminating introduction documents his friend Robinson’s evolution as a photographer, and his love of jazz and how it influenced his work. Robinson’s photos were taken between 1969 and 1972 at the Monterey Jazz Festival and other Southern California locales. The book also thoughtfully includes mini-bios of all the jazz artists depicted, as well as a list of books on jazz for “further reading.” Each photo is enhanced by Robinson’s fascinating recollection of the photo shoot and the artist, plus an evocative “poetic take” or “riff” from Young. Monk, Duke, Mingus, Dizzy, Hines, Cannonball, Simone, Desmond, Miles, Eckstine, Jacquet, Mulligan and Hodges are among those sensitively captured both visually and with the written word in this collection. Young on Johnny Hodges: “‘Rabbit,’ they called you ... You sniffed out melody. You always had your way with a ballad; you took your time. You always took your time. Rabbits do not.” Robinson on Mary Lou Williams: “I knew of her stature and respected her stature, so I had to do an elbow number on a couple of white photographers ... you could look up her dress ... They wanted to take pictures of that. Every time the guy next to me raised his camera, I’d bump him. I did this about three times. They got the message.”

2009-03-02T00:28:11-05:00

4 Todd Bryant Weeks’ well-written and extensively researched biography covers Hot Lips Page’s life from his youth in Dallas, Corsicana and Tyler, Texas, to his days as lead trumpeter for Walter Page’s Blue Devils and the Bennie Moten Orchestra, and deals with the ramifications of Page’s decision to leave Count Basie and go it alone as a single with Louis Armstrong’s manager Joe Glaser, just before John Hammond brought the Basie band to New York. The author follows Page’s long association with Eddie Condon’s Mob, his participation in the legendary Minton’s Playhouse jam sessions, and his popularity as the only black member of Artie Shaw’s Symphonic Swing Orchestra, which Shaw was forced to disband shortly after Pearl Harbor. We learn of Page’s involvement with the jump-blues style spearheaded by Louis Jordan, as well as his contributions to R&B, including Wynonie Harris’ “Good Rockin’ Tonight.” Page and Pearl Bailey’s vocal duets on “Baby It’s Cold Outside” and “The Hucklebuck,” a two-sided hit record, are also discussed. The development of Page’s “growling” trumpet style, through his unsurpassed use of lip slurs, is analyzed, as is his mastery of the blues, both instrumentally and vocally. All of the above and more are skillfully placed into proper sociological, historical or cultural context. A complete discography and a generous photo section are also included. As for the book’s title, Weeks writes that Page’s “hopeful outlook in the face of adversity could not save him from obscurity. ... The real stability and celebrity that Lips sought eluded him.” true 329 2008-12-23T14:52:25-05:00 false 21042 129 true 21 2008-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Todd Bryant Weeks’ well-written and extensively researched biography covers Hot Lips Page’s life from his youth in Dallas, Corsicana and Tyler, Texas, to his days as lead trumpeter for Walter Page’s Blue Devils and the Bennie Moten Orchestra, and deals with the ramifications of Page’s decision to leave Count Basie and go it alone as a single with Louis Armstrong’s manager Joe Glaser, just before John Hammond brought the Basie band to New York. The author follows Page’s long association with Eddie Condon’s Mob, his participation in the legendary Minton’s Playhouse jam sessions, and his popularity as the only black member of Artie Shaw’s Symphonic Swing Orchestra, which Shaw was forced to disband shortly after Pearl Harbor. We learn of Page’s involvement with the jump-blues style spearheaded by Louis Jordan, as well as his contributions to R&B, including Wynonie Harris’ “Good Rockin’ Tonight.” Page and Pearl Bailey’s vocal duets on “Baby It’s Cold Outside” and “The Hucklebuck,” a two-sided hit record, are also discussed. The development of Page’s “growling” trumpet style, through his unsurpassed use of lip slurs, is analyzed, as is his mastery of the blues, both instrumentally and vocally. All of the above and more are skillfully placed into proper sociological, historical or cultural context. A complete discography and a generous photo section are also included. As for the book’s title, Weeks writes that Page’s “hopeful outlook in the face of adversity could not save him from obscurity. ... The real stability and celebrity that Lips sought eluded him.”

2009-03-02T00:28:11-05:00

4 By Farah Jasmine Griffin and Salim Washington (Thomas Dunne Books) Trudging through these books on the life and music of the enigmatic Miles Davis, trumpet great and brilliant conceptualist, one is forced to suggest that the experience be titled Miles of Miles. So much has already been written on Davis. This trio of writings adds little to our knowledge of the man, yet all are somewhat interesting reading. The most worthy, Miles on Miles, gathers various magazine, newspaper, radio and TV interviews with the Prince of Darkness from late 1957 through mid-1989 and includes three posthumous remembrances from 1998 by musician-journalist Mike Zwerin, seven years after the trumpeter’s death. The general tenor of this anthology is that Davis was a genius who was a combination of opposing elements: a prince and a prick, nice as well as nasty, a misogynist who attracted numerous women whom he mistreated. He was distrustful of almost everyone, which led him to be the bane of most interviewers. Difficult is too mild a descriptive for him. The best and most illustrative of these relatively short works are those by jazz critics Nat Hentoff and Leonard Feather, as well as conversations with writer Eric Nisenson and radio host-musician Ben Sidran. Miles Smiles offers a scholarly and detailed view of Davis’ career and primary albums and ensembles, from Birth of the Cool through Bags’ Groove, his first great quintet with John Coltrane, Red Garland, Paul Chambers and Philly Joe Jones, Milestones, Kind of Blue, his orchestral collaborations with Gil Evans and his second great quintet with Wayne Shorter, Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter and Tony Williams, with particular emphasis on the second of that group’s albums, Miles Smiles, which author Jeremy Yudkin, a music professor at Boston University and Oxford, considers the ultimate effort. Yudkin, who at times gets a bit verbose, also offers some confusing writing and his descriptions of the various musical works will probably be of interest only to musicians. (For players, however, his inclusion of musical staff overviews of various tunes and solos is to be much admired.) The title of Clawing at the Limits of Cool stems from the writings of Amiri Baraka and is an exposition of the lives and music of both Davis and Coltrane. Like the other books here, it details the dichotomy that was Miles Davis, making note of his greatness, as well as his frequent periods of wasted life, his arrogance and wealthy lifestyle, etc. It also goes into the drug problems of both musicians, as well as others in the Davis band, but dwells too much on the spiritual salvation and renewal Coltrane found by ending his addiction. The book also goes too deeply into sociopolitical explanations for the Davis-Coltrane music, as well as its supposed African links. It also suffers from some confusing writing and moralist preaching in the final chapter, which credits Coltrane for influencing world music, rock and more. true 10612 2008-12-23T14:59:05-05:00 false 21043 129 true 21 2008-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

By Farah Jasmine Griffin and Salim Washington (Thomas Dunne Books) Trudging through these books on the life and music of the enigmatic Miles Davis, trumpet great and brilliant conceptualist, one is forced to suggest that the experience be titled Miles of Miles. So much has already been written on Davis. This trio of writings adds little to our knowledge of the man, yet all are somewhat interesting reading. The most worthy, Miles on Miles, gathers various magazine, newspaper, radio and TV interviews with the Prince of Darkness from late 1957 through mid-1989 and includes three posthumous remembrances from 1998 by musician-journalist Mike Zwerin, seven years after the trumpeter’s death. The general tenor of this anthology is that Davis was a genius who was a combination of opposing elements: a prince and a prick, nice as well as nasty, a misogynist who attracted numerous women whom he mistreated. He was distrustful of almost everyone, which led him to be the bane of most interviewers. Difficult is too mild a descriptive for him. The best and most illustrative of these relatively short works are those by jazz critics Nat Hentoff and Leonard Feather, as well as conversations with writer Eric Nisenson and radio host-musician Ben Sidran. Miles Smiles offers a scholarly and detailed view of Davis’ career and primary albums and ensembles, from Birth of the Cool through Bags’ Groove, his first great quintet with John Coltrane, Red Garland, Paul Chambers and Philly Joe Jones, Milestones, Kind of Blue, his orchestral collaborations with Gil Evans and his second...

2009-03-02T00:28:11-05:00