Homage a Eldridge

Can't be effusive enough about the great Roy Eldridge and thought I'd mark his birthday with a few comments and a small sampling of his playing.

Roy was sneaky influential. That is, musicians-especially other trumpet players-knew what he meant to jazz, but the public knew him more as showman and less as musical genius (I suppose complicated parallels might be drawn with Louis Armstrong's career).

Roy accessed all the power implicit in the trumpet, but articulated with extraordinary dexterity. He played right in the pocket, even when shape shifting the rhythm of a phrase. He was a more than able vocalist, although he scatted less often than Louis or Dizzy. He tested himself over and over in the crucible of the cutting contest and sent many JATP sessions over the top. Any session he made was pushed into a higher level of commitment. I saw him a few times near the end of his playing career and he blew with intense ferocity. There was nothing little about this man except his nickname. Happy Birthday, Roy.



Listen To more...

More Jazz Necessities

Previously, the introduction of the Chet Baker watch inspired me to release these new products, essential for any jazz fan:

Charlie Parker Day Planner

Trumbauer Guide To Linux

G.I. Lennie Action Figure

Joe Newman Sump Pump

Bill Evans Chest Expander

Keith Jarrett Beard Trimmer

The iTrane

We did so well with these that we are moving into publishing:

Sun Ra: Five Tips for a Groovy Luau

Benny Goodman: Guide to Jazz Etiquette 

Eddie Condon: Why Proust Still Matters

Django & Klugh: 10-Days to Perfect Nails

Charles Mingus: Why Mitt? Why Now?

Ornette Coleman: Conquering the II-V-I
Bix Beiderbecke: Monetize Your Blog!

Name the Blog; Arbitrary New Rule Imposed

The Rules Committee, having been released en masse from Wormwood Scrubs, has finally met and tweaked the rules of the contest as follows:

An example

Any contestant who wants to make it to the next round of judging is now required to submit a photo of him or herself in a bathing suit; the more revealing, the better.

Candid shots welcome

Submit to: s.improviz@comcast.net.

On With the Nonsense!

As one of the dozen scam mailings my mother gets everyday would say:

"Dear Entrant: You are one of a very small pool of residents in your area to be chosen to proceed to the next level of competition! Please send in $25 so we may confirm your certified platinum level registration number."

Well, in this here Name the Blog contest, everyone's a winner-at least in this round-and we will absolutely not be swayed by kickbacks (unless you actually send one).

 Only first names are given, to protect the innocent.


Enjoy some Salieri while you contemplate these worthy entries:

Felonius Junk -Di

You got a problem with 'Brilliant Corners,' bub?" -Larry

Brilliant Jazz and Other Joys (from BOSTON) -Brew

Third Balcony Jump -Harvey

Jazz speaks for life   -Dave

Jazz Hands!!!   Bleeding Gums Murphy Speaks  -Aaron

Dizzy Atmosphere, Six Flats Unfurnished   -Rob

Snap Diddley Squirt: A Jazz Blog -Kiddo

Jazz Pants, Learn a New Word Everyday, Life Improv, Carried Away with Steve, Jazz Scratch Fever, Jazz Happy, Sharps and Flats, The Flying Jazz Project, Captain Jazz, Jazz Serious, Jazz Kidding  -Amy and Ken

Not Just Another Jazz Blog -Dick

ImProvizing or ImProvizer 
or ProVizions,

 See Sharp,

 Sounding, Brass

Sections,

 Mouth Pieces

Horning In,

 MOTS (acronym for: Music Of The. Sphere's)(French for "words" too, ErSatch, UrSatch, Dauntless, Iterations -Ed

The Jazz Id-Me

It's not a popularity contest, but groundswells of support will no doubt influence my highly disorganized adjudication methodology.

Exchanges on Pops' Tone

Doug Ramsay was kind enough to feature my Louis Armstrong: Operatic at the Core post on his blog Rifftides. Author of the Armstrong book Ricky Riccardi responded, as did Brew and all concerned have said I could put the conversation on this blog. So, here it is, with an extension:

1. Brew says:
   January 17, 2012 at 5:14 am
   There is also a great similarity in attitude, and stage appearance of Pops and many stars of the opera: Love for good food, the company of nice folks (Armstrong’s backstage room was always crowded), and …

   … the inevitable white handkerchief which for example Pavarotti used, too (he had his own of course!).

   Pops’ phrasing, and his tone, and authority in the 1950′s are indeed not to top, except by Maria Callas, Kathleen Ferrier & Mario Lanza who possessed the most unique operatic voices in the 1950′s.

   Come on, folks, the time machine problem has not been solved yet!
   REPLY
2. Ricky Riccardi says:
   January 17, 2012 at 5:34 am
   Agree with every word, Doug and Steve. No one–and there’s been some that have come close–has ever equalled Louis’s tone. Even in his last years, when the chops were hurting and his range was decreasing, the tone was still there; you could still tell it was him, even on the recordings that survive from 1971 (which I’ll be sharing in my next blog). I now work as Archivist at the Louis Armstrong House Museum and that’s where all of Louis’s private tapes and records are kept. I cannot tell you how many opera records he owned and listened to on his tapes. Naturally, a big chunk of Louis’s concept was rooted in opera but I also love the quotes he sometimes played from specific operas. He always played a lick on “Muskrat Ramble” in the 1950s that sounded so familiar, but I couldn’t place it. One of my readers finally nailed it as being from Sigmund Romberg’s “The Student Prince.” I went to check Louis’s collection and sure enough, he had “The Student Prince” on vinyl and on his tapes! Here’s a blog I did about that, where you can hear the lick:

   Anyway, thanks to you both and thanks for reminding your readers that Louis was great–and had that tone–from the beginning to the end.

   Yours in Pops,

   Ricky

   Steve responded:

   Ricky-

   What do you think about my idea of Pops’ vulnerability via a vis the love of the audience? (I ask knowing that it’s seldom that anyone whose book I review agrees with anything I say).

   • REPLY
     • Ricky Riccardi says:
       January 22, 2012 at 5:07 am
       Fine with me, too, Steve. And please, fire away with any other questions and comments you have. Regarding the vulnerability aspect, yes, I think Armstrong’s connection with audiences and the obvious effort he put into his performances could make him seem somewhat vulnerable. But I don’t think I would connect vulnerability with that tone. That tone is one of the most identifiable sounds in jazz and it’s what set Louis apart from other trumpet players. He himself claimed to be a “freak about tonation” and even when discussing King Oliver, he wasn’t afraid to knock Oliver’s tone. In fact, in a 1956 Voice of America interview, Louis complained that the 1923 Oliver recordings were hard to listen to because Oliver’s tone wasn’t strong and Oliver should have let Louis play more lead and more solos. Armstrong astutely brought up Erskine Hawkins’s hit records that featured solos by Dud Bascomb, but had Hawkins’s name on the record and brought Erskine the fame and money.

       So Louis knew what he had. He worked tirelessly on that tone and was very proud of it. He used to like to talk about a time he sat in with the Count Basie Orchestra in Miami in 1958. Basie called “Royal Garden Blues” and in addition to soloing, Louis played in the trumpet section. According to Louis, Basie couldn’t get over it, saying he had never heard a tone like that in a trumpet section before. Louis would tell the story proudly and then would say that all of the trumpet players in Basie’s band were fine musicians but they were too lazy to work on their playing to get a tone and sound like Louis had.

       I share these two stories because they illustrate something that not everyone associates with gentle, smiling Louis: the man had an ego. And that is not a bad thing. I’ve listened to thousands of hours of Armstrong’s interview and I can tell you that he knew 100% how special his sound was and he worked very hard to get it and wasn’t bashful to let anyone know about it. He was confident in his music, he was confident that audiences would love it and he was confident in his ability to put on the best show in jazz.

       So when you weigh in those feelings of ego and confidence, that’s where I think the vulnerability aspect loses a little steam. Audiences might view Louis as vulnerable (and surely, his playing could be completely vulnerable at times, in addition to the soaring operatic statements; look up an unissued “Lonesome Road” on my blog from 1956 to hear both sides in one performance), but that tone was shaped by hard work and determination and was carried out by a genius with absolute, supreme confidence in what he was doing.

       That’s just my feeling about the vulnerability angle but every other word your wrote about Louis’s tone and operatic tendencies is spot on. Thanks for writing it and thanks for mentioning the book (though man, a “work-man like effort”? I devoted every day of half my life to that thing! haha, just kidding, any publicity is good publicity….).

       Yours in Pops,

       Ricky

       
       

       Steve responds:

       I realize it's counter-intuitive to call the strongest sound in jazz trumpet history "vulnerable." I'm not talking about an ego-based process. In fact, the opposite. There's always some artifice in a performance and Pops' careful planning is testament to that. But the tone, ore that he assiduously burnished throughout his life, was a kind of "cri de coeur;" a direct look into the (vulnerable) heart of another person. It's not about weakness or lack of confidence. In fact, how strong must a person be to expose so much? 

       That's the sense in which I use the word vulnerable.

       Thanks,

       Steve

Name That Blog!

It's been about a year since I became the sole proprietor of Brilliant Corners. Time for a new name. Since I don't have the interest, money or spare precious bodily fluid to do market research, I am soliciting suggestions from YOU. 

So, go through the site. Read a few older posts. Try to distill the nature of the Brilliant Corners balderdash down to its essence. Submit as many names as you want, be they barbaric, cuddly, esoteric, moldy fig-friendly, demographically astute or legally actionable. Let not your ideas be bounded by the strictures of so-called "common sense."


Each submission will be carefully scorned, er, scanned by our crack squad of lackeys. If your submission is chosen, your name will become synonymous with squandered energy throughout the jazz blog-o-lalia. As a special bonus, you will be given keys to the city of Boston by Mayor Menino, or by someone else who is a registered mesomorph.


Now, go muzzle the dog, lock the kids in the basement, give the maid and butler the day off, crack the Armagnac, spin some wax and put on your thinking cap. Good luck, one and all. You may already be a winner.

Louis Armstrong: Operatic at the Core.

The jazz world started to get down on Louis Armstrong starting around 1950-the beginning of his ascension from jazz star to Star. And since the 1980's, at least, jazz people have been trying to make up for calling Pops an Uncle Tom, a sellout and a cultural irrelevancy. 


"What a Wonderful World," Ricky Riccardi's biography covering the last part of Armstrong's career, might be one of the last chapters in the jazz community's process of expiating its sins.


This book is what's known as a "workman-like effort" and a "good read." The writing is fine, if not compelling. The level of detail about his concerts, recordings and band personnel seems sufficient. The book does little to place Armstrong in the broader American musical context, but it deals with one issue pretty thoroughly and pretty well-Armstrong's complicated attitude toward race, including how it plays out with his long-time manager, Joe Glaser.

The book covers many bases, but it does not fully address what is, for me, the essential question about Armstrong: What really made him the ablest communicator in jazz history? 


Yes, he had fabulous musical skills, incredible gifts as a showman and the willingness to work like a horse. But I think there was something else at work. 


Armstrong said many times that he loved each note, whether he was playing it or singing it-and his singing voice was emotional twin to his trumpet tone. What I think he was talking about was not the pitch or the combination of the notes, it was the tone and the weight of each note. 


Hundreds of gifted and proficient trumpet players have come and gone through jazz history, but no one has ever had that tone. Not even close. Yes, others have had an identifiable sound, but their tone basically falls within the parameters of a given historical era. Give me the name of an early jazz player, a swing era player, a bop player, a free player, a neo-mainstream player and I can name you other trumpeters from that era who had a sound that was very similar. 

Even though he always talked about his debt to his mentor Joe Oliver, Armstrong seems not to have been subject to that need for identification. His tone rides over jazz history as freely as his solos rode over orchestras and rhythm sections. I believe that Armstrong's singular tone sent a unique message to the listener: "I am making myself completely vulnerable to you. While part of me is acting (and Armstrong's acting talent was unassailable, if underutilized), part of me will die if you don't love what I am giving to you." 

Emotionally, his performances were not pitched at a jazz performance level. They were operatic in intention. And, as Armstrong aged and took on lesser pop material, this became easier to see. He was able to impart a depth to those tunes beyond that ever imagined by the songwriters and arrangers. Because, really, it wasn't about the notes. It was about The Note.


Nearing the end of his life, who did Pops draw on as reference points when voicing his distaste at the pessimistic media coverage of his declining health? Not jazz people. As quoted in Riccardi's book, he says: "Everyone wants to know how I am going to die...I never was interested in the life of Caruso or the death of Mario Lanza..." He loved his fellow jazz musicians, but in some way, he knew his peers were opera stars.

Successful "Wrong" Trumpet Embouchures

Jon Faddis

My wife calls my trumpet my mistress. Don't think so. It's way too high maintenance.

The fact is, for many of us, the struggle to find the right embouchure can seem sisyphean. There is so much bad information-especially for young players (see my post on mouthpieces); so much cant, rhetoric and conflicting theories. Right now, I have put myself in the hands of John Lynch. Previously, I have been indentured to Pivot-Master Donald Reinhardt, Mr. Superchops Jerome Callet, the carefree John Coffey and, finally, my first teacher, who told me not to tell my mother he told me, but that I had to bear down like I was taking a poop.

The fact is, there is no single right way to do it and for those of us who have chased this unholy grail through the years, it can be a comfort and an inspiration to see people do it the wrong way and yet become masters. In that spirit, here are a few examples of how right wrong can be:

Here is the great bop player Bill Hardman. Note how far off to the left side he plays:


Here's cornettist Ruby Braff who, if anything, plays even more off to the left than Hardman:

Introducing the Secular Football League.

We all remember the struggle the new AFL had when it first tried to crack the National Football League monopoly-playing in baseball stadiums and college stadiums, etc. It was a real American success story: one flock of rich guys who, by throwing enough money into the hopper, convinced the other flock of rich guys to take them seriously.

Now it's our turn.

I know the odds are against us. Our pockets aren't deep. In fact, they're only pocket simulacra. Nonetheless, the rise of evangelism in professional football, along with the attendant cant and rhetoric about family values and god in general (plus another highly annoying half hour of ads stuck into the game), has inspired me to invite people LIKE YOURSELVES to put together a league that will blow the current bunch of pseudo-Jesuits out of the water.



Finally, after a strict 6-month regimen of Armagnac, Setlitz Powder and Ambien, we at The Institute are ready to make the announcement and open the process to YOU!




The following teams are, even now, being formed in the new, fabulous Secular Football League (SFL). Peruse the list and submit your own squad. We'll see that a publicly-financed stadium is built in your hometown tout de suite:

The Paducah Pagans
The Cambridge Sophists
The Aqaba Atheists
The Somerville Shamen
The Dracut Druids
The Newton Non-Newtonians
The Zagreb Zoroastrians
The Detroit Doveners
The Malibu Sufis
The Nome Gnostics
The Death Valley Taoists
The Akron Agnostics
The Brooklyn Buddhists
and, of course,
The San Antonio Sadhus

Each of these squads brings a mental toughness currently unknown in the NFL. I'd like to see those lummoxes do the Little Thunderbolt Pose at all, never mind naked in the Arctic.




You know you harbor a secret desire to own your own professional sports team. Now's your chance. It's up to you. You'll either end up canoodling with a cheerleader in the Skybox or rotting on your couch with a box of stale corn chex.

Act now and you get my personal guarantee: No "under god" in the Pledge of Allegiance*.

*Written by Christian Socialist Edward Bellamy; amended against his opposition "under the leadership of the American Legion and The Daughters of the American Revolution."

It's Not Sci-Fi; It's Radio! by Steve Provizer

SP

You see this object?

JP

Yea.

SP

Recognize it?

JP

Vaguely familiar.

SP

It’s called a radio.

JP

Ra-di-o.

SP

Yea, it’s a device that lets you listen to different kinds of sounds.

JP

Oh, an mp3 player. Looks like an ipod with a really clever skin.

SP

It's different. You don’t have to put anything into this thing to make stuff come out of it.

JP

No downloading? Where does the sound come from?

SP

You just turn it on, like this: 

[RADIO SFX FADE UP AND UNDER] 

and the sounds coming through the air are caught and brought into the radio by this metal rod.

JP

Oh, you’re just screwin’ me around. Stop it.

SP

Gospel truth.

JP

What about those other gizmos?

SP

They're called tuning dials. All you have to do is turn them and different kinds of music pops out. You can even hear people talking-live.

JP

Talking about what?

SP

Politics, sports, Hollywood, the weather, weight loss pills.

JP

Is it interactive? Can I text them if I want to comment on something?

SP

More than that, big guy, you can actually call in to their studios and then YOUR voice would come out of this little box too.

JP

Sounds impossible.  These things must be just for the military, right? 

SP

No, regular people are allowed to use them. They're a little hard to find, but I might be able to hook you up.

JP

Must cost a fortune.

SP

You might well believe that, my friend, but you can get one of these things for the cost of a bag of munchkins.

And once you buy one, that’s it. You never have to pay another red cent.

JP

No set-up charges?

SP

No.

JP

No rental fees?

SP

Absolutely not. 

JP

It’s all a little overwhelming.

SP

Technology can be that way, my friend.

JP

Well, put me down for one of these babies, cause I want to be on the cutting edge.

SP

That’s my man.

JP

Ra-di-o, you say.

SP

Yea. Imagine the possibilities.

[RADIO SFX FADE IN AND OUT]

"The 7 Ages of Jazz-Kind" by Steve Provizer

With apologies to Shakespeare.

I. The Infant:
Muling and puking. Parents play music at home and, too young to put up a struggle, he is exposed to Ellington or Basie, maybe Miles; Nancy Wilson, Sammy Davis Loves Broadway.

II. Whining Schoolboy:
Creeps unwillingly to his trumpet lesson. Is drafted into stage band at school and learns how to play "swing eight notes" in Sal Nistico arrangements.

III. The Lover:
Simultaneously experiences the first pangs of love gone sour and the aching balladry of Billie Holiday, Stan Getz and Ben Webster. Rejects all other musics as unworthy of his devotion.

IV. The Soldier
Full of strange oaths; i.e., II-V-I, arco, flat thirteen. Looks for respect in the jazz-session trenches and is willing even to face the Medusa Donna Lee in Dflat. Draws his sword against any who would denigrate his jazz gods. Soul-patched, like the pard Gillespie.

V. The Justice:
In fair round belly, with wise lese majeste, he accepts the endless cycles of "Kind Of Blue" on jazz radio. He learns to shrug off the hype surrounding the latest wunderkind and begins to find truth in the notes of the elders.

VI. Spectacled and Slippered:
The search for the right mouthpiece fades, as does his once robust tone.  The silence becomes more meaningful than the notes.

VII. Second Childhood. Taps his toe to Louis and then is heard no more.

"An Open Letter to Occupy Boston." Steve Provizer

It's always tough to move to the next thing, but it would have been delusional to think that Occupy Boston and other Occupy groups would be allowed to continue camping. 


In her ruling, a Boston judge said: “while Occupy Boston protesters may be exercising their expressive rights during the protest, they have no privilege under the First Amendment to seize and hold the land on which they sit.” I hope this First Amendment skirmish does not become the END IN ITSELF. I know this in the foreground and serious points have to be made, but please don't get bogged down. Don't hand it over to the lawyers (even the good ones) and don't rely on the judicial branch to solve any problems for you. Start thinking about YOUR NEXT MOVES. 


It will be very difficult. I'm sure the encampment, the publicity, the joy of being a living symbol of what you believe and witnessing the large number of people who have rallied to support you has been a potent experience. Marshaling the same level of energy for continuing the struggle in what may now be a less visible and adrenalin-fueled process, is a tremendous challenge. Equally difficult will be maintaining your extremely high level of inclusive participation when this movement gets down to the irritating and grinding process of getting people to agree on specific demands and political moves.


But, the creativity that Occupiers have shown to this point makes me optimistic that you will not get drawn into a court-centric approach; that you will demonstrate great agility and find and implement new dazzling tactics to move the process ahead. I'm not alone in thinking of you as a vanguard, as people with the will and commitment to continue to be leaders. To win, you've got to be several steps ahead. Go ahead, do it. We'll be there.

Occupy Jazz? by Steve Provizer

Economically, there was never much of a middle class among jazz musicians, but to steal an Occupy Wall St. slogan, we are now in a 99%/1% situation. In this post, I'll take a look at whether it's useful or folly to apply the OWS paradigm to the jazz financial picture.


In the Occupy Wall St. realm, when you sweep away the bologna covering the pro and con arguments, what's left is a disagreement about meritocracy and the Myth of Mobility:

"The Shadow of Kitty Genovese" by Stephen Provizer (reprised)

This is a re-written version of a piece from last April, which I'm reprising as a pre-quel to a post later this week about the Occupy movement. I think it's timely.

I recently re-discovered the unusual Phil Ochs LP "Pleasures of the Harbor."  A song from that album, "Outside of a Small Circle of Friends," and another song from 1967-"All's Quiet on West 23rd," by a group called "Jetstream"-were inspired by a 1964 incident in Queens where the murder and rape of a woman named Kitty Genovese went unreported by neighbors.

The degree of passivity and non-involvement on the part of Genovese's neighbors is not clear (Good explanation here), but the incident inspired a flurry of research, which in turn generated a sociological premise called The Bystander Effect. The gist of this is that the larger the size of a group of people witnessing a "reportable" activity, the less likely any one person is to take action.

No doubt the Bystander Effect is second cousin to what's been called Charity or Compassion Fatigue, a more diffused phenomenon-about an accumulation of events than a specific one.

What has yet to be found is an explanation for a phenomenon I've been puzzling over for a long time: that people are willing to de-prioritize their own well-being in order to make sure that some one or some other group of people does not make out better than they do. The key example is believing that unions don't represent a way for lots of people to get a fair deal from employers, but a threat to one's own well-being.

I despise but at least understand why we humans are willing to ignore the physical harming of someone else-it's a self-protective reaction. Ditto that stressed financial resources can explain a person's ignoring the plight of someone else with a disease or handicap.

But how to explain the widespread belief that the decent wages and job security of a fellow working person are more of a threat to your well-being than the massive accumulation of wealth at the top, or the enormous military expenditures used to support a decaying American empire around the world? This is sheer masochism, rooted in a massive disinformation campaign, combined with a bizarre belief that people born on third base deserve help getting to home plate.

It may be time to let go of the "I'm not poor, I'm just not wealthy-yet" mythology, to recognize that we have been divided and are well down the road to being conquered-and that your local teacher or pipe-fitter are not your enemies. Kitty Genovese, collector for Clean Water Action, the Hyatt 100, what's become known as the 99%-we're all in it together.

"Republicans Candidates Separated At Birth" by Steve Provizer

It's a hoary concept, but still viable. Although it's possible that some of the non-candidates are not Republican. I have tried to err on the side of deeper psychic similarities:

Michelle Bachmann and   VIncent Price

Review: "Jammin' at the Margins"

Once again, the academic slavies in Brilliant Corners U. (Uber-Graduate division) have been plowing through a book about jazz and popular culture: "Jammin at the Margins" by the prolific Krin Gabbard, who's been reviewed here before ("Horns and Hormones"). Published in 1996, the book might seem like old news, but as far as I can see, no one ever wrote a review of this book longer than a paragraph.

Having other Gabbard tomes under my belt, I anticipated his approach: an academic/general reader hybrid, using cultural theory, some historical research and, in this case, plot summaries to back up his theses. All such theses stem from a central precept, which we've seen before from Gabbard: jazz as manifestation of black sexuality and the ways that white culture attempts to come to terms with/subvert/co-opt this sexuality.

"An Untold Boston Jazz Story" by Steve Provizer

In 1971, this callow trumpet player enrolled in the Jack's Drum Shop (J.D.S.) School of Music. Even though the institution flashed only briefly through the dense Boston musical educational firmament, it was The Real Funk and deserves a nod.

News of Questionable Interest

A tip 'o the hat to my progenitors at this blog-Chris, Matt and other guests, on whose shoulders I stand. Brilliant Corners, the Little Shop of Jazz Horrors we call our own, has gone over the 100,000 visits mark. Now, how to monetize this financially-challenged demographic...

Go, Occupy Boston!

My band-SLSAPS, laying a little groove on the nefarious proceedings

"The Truth About Mouthpieces" by Steve Provizer

The neglect that I experienced around mouthpiece choice and which I believe continues in early brass playing education in 2011, is sickening. Young players: You need to know how important mouthpieces are.

You can play almost any trumpet, unless it's a real piece of junk, but having the wrong mouthpiece can absolutely stunt your musical growth. When you pick up this beast of an axe, you need positive reinforcement to stick with it. The wrong mouthpiece can make it so much more difficult to play that it can erode morale and no doubt has led many to ditch the horn.

"Bass Bow-Masters"

Since the 1960's, it's become common for bass players to keep a bow handy, and many became adept users-Jimmy Garrison, Ray Brown, Eddie Gomez, George Mraz, Christian McBride, Michael Moore, and others. BUT-99% of the time, they use it only for long tones that are meant to add dramatic underpinning to an intro, in interlude or an ending. Actual bowed (known as "arco") solos are rare.


The recent birthday of Leroy Elliot "Slam" Stewart (b. 9/21/14) reminded me what a virtuoso bass player can do with a bow and how few such players there have been. In fact, I can count them on three fingers, Slam Stewart, Major Holley and Paul Chambers.

Mute-a-bility (Pt.3) by Steve Provizer

Mute regrets, I've had a few. Like, Why did the great Roy Eldridge start using a harmon mute?

Roy's tone was a pile-driver; epic, a mover of mountains. It vibrated at the highest energies. Just listen to what I think is the ripest performance in the history of swing:

"Mutes and Other Distortionary Audio Lenses" by Steve Provizer

My last post showed some of ways mutes have been used in jazz trumpet playing.  The technological extension of the sound alteration/manipulation done by mutes is, of course, electronics. Or, before that-mechanics. The photo below shows the mechanical trumpeter constructed by Friedrich Kaufman in 1810. Obviously, after a very tough gig.

T. Blanchard w. wireless mic

Note that I'm not talking about simply updating the means of amplification by having a wireless mic attached to the bell of the horn; that simply allows the player to move away from a stationary mic and still be heard. 


You do need to run through a mic so that the sound becomes an electronic signal. Then, you can run it through an effects box. Initially that process involved re-shaping an analog wave, but for the last couple of decades, like everything else, this has moved into the digital domain; domain being the appropriate word for the hegemony of this technology.

The Lure of the Mute by Steve Provizer

I. e., the thing you stick in the bell of your horn to change the sound and/or make it softer. Could be anything. I'll do a quick recap here and get into it more next time.

The trumpet in its present state is a relatively new phenomenon-final evolution in the mid-1800's. It's a good bet that early on, the complaints of neighbors got some horn players to jam a rag into their bells to keep peace in the 'hood. Of course, there was sometimes a quiet woodshed to go to, but the idea of sticking something in the end of the horn to alter the sound didn't pick up steam until some time later.

As far as I know, there is no notation in a classical score asking for a mute (fancy Italian word: sordina) until well into the 20th century. After all, you choose to write for a trumpet because the thing is so damned loud. Likewise, no mutes in Sousa, or James Reese Europe.

Jazz Evolution: Filling Up The Holes by S.G.Provizer

A recent post on Playjazz, a site with much to offer aspiring jazz musicians, said this:

This is why it's so important to listen to music from the whole history of jazz - because familiarity with the roots of the music allows us to hear the notes that aren't being played in later forms. Without knowledge of the earlier idioms, the brain is unable to 'fill in the gaps' when a modern musician implies certain material instead of stating it explicitly.

My reaction is that he kind of got it backwards. Jazz has evolved to fill up all the holes. Listening to the old stuff is imperative, but ironically, because jazz history has moved in a certain direction (more notes), it's natural for aspiring jazz players to want to jump on the continuum.

Lots of notes

The Tatum FIles by S.G.Provizer

I'm sure this has been bruited about more than several times in the jazz blogs, but hell, the skies are dark and the wind is howling. So, the question is re-asked: To honor, worship and adore Art Tatum? My answer: I will honor and, in a limited sense worship, but not adore.  Yes; no one ever played "more" piano, but sometimes more says "too much." 

N.Y. Times Style Magazine: "...hardscrabble glamour." Steve Provizer

"Or maybe your granny (great-granny?) was a weathered-but-gorgeous sharecropper, a Dust Bowl refugee in frayed frock and battered boots, only-wait! what if those boots were splattered with glitter?"

Sunday New York Times Style Magazine, August 21, 2011

"Damn heels." Granny was trying to weed the beans when one of our gopher holes intervened. "Pa, I told you to flush out those varmints and fill up these holes!"

"Be right with you, sweetie. Just trying to see if these jeans are riding too high in the crotch. Too bad this mirror's got so many cracks in it. And you can hardly see anything in between the Prince Albert letters."

"Stop preening and get out here! God, my things are a mess. You'd think Gucci would find a way to keep the dust out of their purses."

"Stop frettin'. Next time I go to town I'll see what they have in the General Store."

"With that old nag laid up with the dropsy, it'll be a while before anyone gets in town."

"Damn, that means we wont be able to pick up this month's Harper's Bazaar."

"Oh, they've got nothing in there you haven't seen in Potato Grower's Weekly."

"Well, who's a little snippy? Just because that burlap frock of yours showed up in a J.C. Penney's ad."

"Like to know what Martha what's-her-name got for designing that."

"Honey, the day she can slop 3 pigs and do what you can do with a can of beans is the day I'll transfer my affection to that phony."

"You're sweet. Hand me that bucket of glitter, will you?

"Wait, you're not planning to...?"

"Yes I am, you old fuddy-duddy."

"But there's 12 coats of hand-applied lacquer on that vinyl. A dozen designers worked overtime to arrive at that shade of puce."

"I don't care, pa. It's mostly covered with cow manure anyway and I need a little brightening up."

"But glitter? It's so--louche!"

"Just because nobody else in the dust bowl has done it before doesn't make it a faux pas."

"Oh, honey, that's why I married you. (That and your pa's shotgun). You always were out in front of the rest of the pack."

"Like to see those rubes next door try to measure up to our standards."

"Too late now. They were taken away in chains by the sheriff after they missed their sharecrop payment."

"I know, I offered to lend her my Chanel suit for the trip to Leavenworth, but she just looked at me with a blank expression."

"Nothin' you can do about that. Most of these Okies couldn't tell the difference between Prada and Pravda."

"That's a good one, pa, but let's get going. If we move fast, we can patch that hole in the ceiling before the next tornado and still have time for that skin peel we promised each other."

"Honey, have I told you lately you're weathered but gorgeous?"

"Come on, lover. let's go have a closer look at the crotch on those jeans."