My own idiosyncratic ramblings and obsessions usually suck up all the oxygen around here, but I'm very glad to have the chance to introduce B.C. readers to my friend Dick Vacca. Dick has been writing articles and giving illustrated talks on Boston jazz history for a long time and last month, after years of research and writing, he published The
Boston Jazz Chronicles, the most authoritative book on Boston Jazz history yet written. Anyone with an interest in Boston jazz and jazz history in general will want
a copy of this book. This interview should prove a good teaser.
Q.
Why The Boston Jazz Chronicles?
A.
I wanted to do a project that involved two of my deep interests, jazz and
cultural/social history, but I didn’t start out with the intention of writing a
book. I wanted to create a walking tour along the lines of Paul Blair's
SwingStreets tours in New York. A walking tour goes from place to place and
relates stories about the people who were associated with those places, so I
started with places I knew because they live on through recordings—live at the
Hi-Hat, or Storyville, or Southland—and places mentioned in books I’d read,
like The Autobiography of Malcolm X and Nat Hentoff’s Boston Boy.
George Wein’s autobiography, Myself Among Others, had just been
published. And I started talking to people with long memories, like Ray Smith
of WGBH radio. I assembled a list of places, and then discovered most of them
have been demolished. In a few cases, even the streets are gone. Given that
there wasn’t much left to see, I abandoned that idea in favor of a tour in book
form. I’d write the stories rather than narrate them, and find photographs to
show a Boston that no longer exists. The walking tour idea lives on in the
book, though, because there’s an emphasis on places, and there’s a series of
maps of the entertainment districts that show where all these places were
located.
Q. With a hundred years
of Boston jazz history to work with, why focus on 1937 to 1962?
A. I started with what most
interested me, and that was the music made by the generation born in the 1920s
who came of age during World War II, and were mainly responsible for the
development of modern jazz after the war. Thus starting in the late 1930s was a
practical decision. I needed to go back just far enough to give a context to
the years that form the bulk of the story, so I started when swing was king and
the big bands were packing the dance halls, and jazz was as close to being
America’s popular music as it ever would be.
The material itself told me
when to stop—at the advent of the turbulent sixties. Much changed in the early
1960s in the world of Boston jazz. Modern jazz had matured, and so had the
generation who made it. Key people moved on, important venues shut down, the
“new thing” in jazz was emerging, and popular tastes changed. Beatlemania was
right around the corner. The sixties brought physical and cultural changes to
Boston and the country, and that is the starting point for a whole different
story.
Q. Where does your book
fit in the spectrum of jazz literature?
The Boston Jazz Chronicles is one of a number of books that document
jazz in cities other than New York and New Orleans. There are good books in
print now about the jazz scenes in Detroit, Kansas City, St. Louis, Los
Angeles, and San Francisco. Now Boston gets its turn. Jazz researchers will
appreciate this story, because some of its principal characters went on to long
careers in jazz, but their early days are often overlooked or under-documented.
Q. When did
Boston become a leading jazz city, and what led up to that?
A. Although jazz had been
played in Boston from the music’s earliest decades, the city became a jazz
center in the late 1940s and 1950s. Prior to that time, Boston’s jazz scene was
small but steady; the city could sustain a jazz scene but not grow it. World
War II changed that. Musicians follow the work, and there was work in Boston
during the war—it took a lot of musicians to entertain all those soldiers,
sailors, and defense workers, and some well-known jazzmen took up residence in
Boston then. After the war came the GI Bill, which brought many veterans to
Boston to study. They provided the critical mass, joining with Boston’s own
musicians to form an active scene. If you’re looking for a tipping point when
the scene starts to really grow, it’s the influx of musicians brought by the GI
Bill.
Musicians, though the most
important component, don’t themselves make a jazz scene. You need journalists,
broadcasters, educators, promoters, and presenters. All of these were active in
Boston in the late 1940s and 1950s, and among the “non-bandstand” landmarks of
the Bostonians were The Sound of Jazz
on CBS television, the Newport Jazz Festival, editors-in-chief at Down Beat
and Metronome magazines, and the Berklee College of Music.
Q. What came before this
awakening?
A. Several factors combined
to make the Boston area a fertile ground for postwar growth. First, the
populous northeast was at the center of dance band activity in the twenties and
thirties, and the Boston-based brothers, Charlie and Cy Shribman, were managers
and promoters who were recognized as kingmakers in the big band era.
Another factor was Boston’s
place as a center of music education. The Boston Conservatory and the New
England Conservatory of Music, though classical in outlook, were training a
steady stream of composers, arrangers, and musicians intent on working in the
popular idioms. And these schools, established in the years following the Civil
War, admitted students of color in an age when many schools did not.
A third factor was
proximity to New York, the jazz capitol of the world, which enabled a constant
interchange of people and ideas. And finally, Boston had talented musicians of
its own in place, playing the music from its earliest decades for a receptive,
mostly black, audience. So it wasn’t like the postwar growth came out of
nowhere.
 |
| Varty Haroutunian |
Q. Tell me about some of
the famous jazz musicians from Boston in
these years.
A. First we should clarify
who I consider a “Boston jazz musician.” There are two groups of musicians
here; the Boston-area natives, and those who came here to work or study.
I’ll call a musician a
“Boston jazz musician” if that person lived and worked here for some part of
their professional life and contributed as an active performer, teacher, or
mentor. There are numerous well-known jazzmen who were born in Boston and left
town while still in their teens. The most famous were Harry Carney and Johnny
Hodges, the hall-of-fame saxophonists who were with the Duke Ellington
Orchestra for more than 40 years. Justly famous, yes, and Boston born—but I
left them out because they spent their entire professional career elsewhere.
On the other hand, most
jazz observers would not consider trumpeter Frankie Newton or trombonist Vic
Dickenson as Bostonians, but both rented apartments here and spent many years
as active members of the Boston jazz community. In my mind, Frankie and Vic are
“Boston jazz musicians” more than Harry and Johnny, who just happened to be
born here.
Q. OK, that said, who
are some of the important Boston jazz musicians in these years?
A. It is a fact of life
that if you spend your career working outside of New York or Los Angeles, the
general listening audience might not know your name, but you’ll be known to
other musicians and serious fans. That was true during these 25 years and it’s true now. Here are some of those “musicians’ musicians”
and high-impact individuals who spent considerable time, if not all their time,
in Boston. In no particular order we have: Sabby Lewis, Frankie Newton, Jaki
Byard, Charlie Mariano, Herb Pomeroy, Alan Dawson, Ray Perry, Lloyd Trotman,
Joe Gordon, Lennie Johnson, Bobby Hackett, Max Kaminsky, Serge Chaloff, Dick
Wetmore, Toshiko Akiyoshi, Dick Twardzik, Gigi Gryce, Rollins Griffith, Bernie
Griggs, Dean Earl, Jimmy Tyler, Nat Pierce, Ralph Burns, Sam Rivers, Mal
Hallett, Jay Migliori, Al Vega, Ray Santisi, Varty Haroutunian, Leroy Parkins,
John Neves, and Jimmy Woode. And four singers: Teddi King, Mae Arnette, Frances Wayne and Pat Rainey. And we can count George Wein here, too, because he’s been
playing piano with the Newport All-Stars for years.
 |
| Frankie Newton |
Q. Was there a “Boston
sound”?
A. Evidence suggests not,
and none of the participants made a claim for one. It
was good modern jazz, well arranged and well played, and in the spirit of the
times. Boston was experiencing what other cities experienced as that generation
of musicians who came of age during World War II matured as artists. One writer
in the mid-1950s called the Boston sound “warm,” jazz at a midpoint between the
two leading schools of modern jazz, West Coast cool and the fiery hard bop then
dominating New York.
Q. What will people be
most surprised by in this book?
A. That’s hard to say. I
think people who know and like jazz will be surprised by the number of
well-known people who worked in Boston, and the depth of the activity. It was
an important scene. People without much exposure to jazz, who are reading
with more of an historical interest will be surprised to find out there was a
Ballroom District around Symphony Hall, and that at one point there were five
jazz clubs near the corner of Mass Ave and Columbus. This might also serve as
an introduction to some of the less laudible aspects of our city—that black
musicians stayed in rooming houses because they couldn’t stay in the Back Bay
hotels, and that female impersonators were banned from Boston stages. It was a
different time, and you found a very different scene when you went out on the
town then, as compared to now. That’s what will fascinate people.
Q. What surprised you?
A. You write this kind of
history to learn what you don’t know, and the more I dug, the more I learned,
and by no means is all of it in the book. I knew there was a “Jazz Priest”
named Norman O’Connor, but I had no idea what a fascinating character he was.
I’d been told John McLellan was on the radio but I was astonished to learn he
wrote 400 columns for the Boston Traveler—imagine a time when there was
enough general interest in jazz to enable a daily newspaper to publish two
columns a week about jazz music for four years! And I knew vaguely about the whole “banned in Boston” thing,
but seeing what even up-and-up businessmen like Wein were up against with the
Boston Licensing Board, and public morals crusades, and the blue laws—amazing.
Nightlife was so different back when all those sailors were in town.
Q. What frustrated you
in preparing the book?
A. Boston-specific
photographs turned out to be very hard to find. I’m still looking for exterior
shots of places like the Hi-Hat and the Roseland-State Ballroom. And there’s
the whole process of tracking down copyright owners and licensing the images
for use, but every author faces that.
A second frustration was
people choosing not to be interviewed, including some people who were very
important on the local scene. They were all polite to a fault, but for whatever
reason they just didn’t want to talk. Maybe they’ll see the book and change
their minds—there’s always room in the second edition...
 |
| Sam Rivers |
Q. You interviewed about
75 people. Who were the most interesting or the most enjoyable?
A. Most people were
enthusiastic about the subject and everybody contributed something, but of
course some interviews were more enjoyable than others. Some people who started
out as interview subjects ended up as friends. My favorite interviews were with
the people who remembered much more than the music they were playing, who were
aware of the world around them, and had rich memories to share of a Boston lost
to time. I hesitate to name names, but of the 17 people who have died since the
time of our interviews, the sessions with Eddie Logan, Sam Marcus, Herb
Pomeroy, and Sam Rivers stand out.
Q. How has the book been
received?
A. This is the wonderful
world of self-publishing, and let’s face it, there are a lot of bad
self-published books out there. Book sellers and reviewers stay away from them,
so first you have to convince them to take a look at it. Nat Hentoff loves the
book and he wanted to review it in the Wall Street Journal, but they
don’t publish reviews of self-published books [Ed. comment: That sucks.] So I’m working with reviewers
and bloggers to create awareness. Library Journal did give it positive
review, so that’s certainly helping to get it on library shelves. And readers
have been saying good things, so that’s encouraging.
Q. Where is Boston in
the cycle of jazz growth and decline?
A. Hard question, and
you’re probably a better judge of that than I am. Jazz isn’t a darling of the
media conglomerates, so people aren’t exposed to it, and if you keep reducing
that exposure over several generations, jazz loses its place in the public
consciousness. We’re seeing the effects of that in Boston with the shrinking
number of hours of locally produced jazz programming on the radio [Ed. comment: written before the WGBH reduction]. Half of the
schedules of our name-band jazz rooms are filled with music that isn’t jazz.
The Boston Jazz Society and the Cape Cod Jazz Society have passed from the
scene. So none of that makes me happy. On the other hand, JazzBoston is doing
good things, like the Riffs and Raps program in the libraries, and I’ve been to
a few house concerts recently, which is something the folkies have been doing
for a while and maybe it’ll catch on with the jazz crowd.
Q. You’ve formed your
own company, Troy Street Publishing. What are your plans for it?
A. What interests me the
most is the cultural and regional history of Boston and environs in the middle
of the last century. The jazz story is one part of that, and a large part,
because it touches so many areas of the culture. But there are many more
stories to be told about those years, and I’m already at work on the next one.
Plus, I’m talking to other authors who are interested in this period of Boston
history as well.
For legal reasons I can’t
produce The Boston Jazz Chronicles as an ebook, at least not yet anyway,
but that’s the plan for all other titles going forward.
Q. Any plans to continue
the jazz chronology?
A. The next 25-year chunk is 1963 to 1988,
and Boston in the sixties and seventies is a big, big story. What was the role
of the jazz musicians and journalists in that story? And is that something
readers want to know about? I’m not convinced. If someone did want to do the
work, quite a few people from those years are still around town, and the media
hadn’t yet splintered into a hundred targeted segments—if you wanted to know
what to do this weekend, you checked the Globe
or the Phoenix. So having people to
interview and a limited amount of media to wade through would make the research
phase easier than the one I just finished. Still, there are so many voices to
be heard, some of them still quite strident, and many styles of music to
represent, everything from the avant garde to smooth jazz. It’s everybody from
Lowell Davidson to Dave McKenna, and everywhere from Danny’s Cafe to the
DeCordova Museum. But I’d still need to know if the scene in these years was
important enough to document, or whether it was just nightlife for a diminishing
audience.
[Ed. notes: First, I was an early manuscript reader and contributed in a small way to the editing of the book. Second, all photos used in this post, except the book cover, are taken from the internet, not directly from the book].
To begin with, we need to differentiate this campaign from previous grassroots media movements, like Action for Childrens Television or the groups that sprung up to keep Joss Whedon shows on the air. People who lobby for a certain show don't want to kill or resuscitate a type of show. They want their teen angst show. Or, they want certain kinds of advertisers not to pollute kid's shows. Tactically, to get this done, you can target specific sponsors-or networks-and this has worked.
Norah Bayes and Marion Harris, both very big vaudeville stars, also recorded blues in the teens. Harris, however, was probably the first woman to record a song with "jazz" in the title. "Keep sousa, gimme the jazz," says "When I Hear That Jazz Band Play:"
A previous post dealt with one stylistic element of jazz: vibrato. I said I would next concentrate on vibrato in jazz vocals, but before we get there, let's set the foundation by looking at some music that was recorded in the pre-jazz era.
If you'll pardon my French, this is not an easy bifurcation to try and rectify. On the one hand, you have the drive to create and listen to music, which is rooted in the need for transport, release, ecstasy, etc. On the other hand, you have number crunching, selling tickets, learning HTML, etc. 
It's the most straightforwardly emotional part of the arsenal that horn players, especially trumpet players, can call on, some of which I mentioned in my Lee Morgan post: half-valve, smears, shakes, rips, growls, flutter-tonguing, double and triple tonguing, false fingering and vibrato. 
