I'm honored to be part of what is becoming a roots music renaissance in Cleveland. Musically speaking, this city has long been known for the Cleveland Orchestra and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but in the national eye, little has been made of the significant jazz and roots scene here. That seems about to change. The breadth of talent and style that is part of the living tradition here in Cleveland is now becoming a cultural focal point for the city, thanks to the work of the Cleveland Foundation and Roots of American music. My band, Eric Seddon's Hot Club, has been asked to take part in this renaissance, playing for the Uptown Saturday Night series, and in Cleveland's beautifully renovated Public Square.
Cleveland audiences are unlike any others I've played for in my career. They are highly educated, musically speaking, and know their history. Recently, for instance, a young man at a nightclub gig of mine asked me if I knew any tunes by Sidney Bechet, because my playing reminded him in some ways of the great New Orleans master. On other occasions people have mentioned Benny Goodman, Artie Shaw, Barney Bigard, Pete Fountain, and Edmond Hall to me. It is rare to find audiences outside of New Orleans who can comment so comprehensively about roots jazz. If you're in town, I hope you can catch one of these gigs:
Saturday, August 20, 2016
Saturday, August 6, 2016
R.I.P., Pete Fountain
Pete Fountain, New Orleans clarinet legend, has passed away at the age of 86. He was a towering influence on me as a player, and I was blessed to have met him when I was still 18 years old, scuffling around for gigs in the French Quarter. His encouragement and inspiration have kept me going, and will keep me going for a lifetime.
Towards the end of his life, thanks to the encouragement of Greg Harrison, I corresponded with Pete for the first time since I'd met him two and a half decades ago, sharing how much I appreciated his work over the course of his long career--what his playing meant to me, and what his encouragement had meant to me as a young man. Of all players, he's the one I'm compared to most often, as much for our physical appearance as our playing, I imagine.
Towards the end of his life, thanks to the encouragement of Greg Harrison, I corresponded with Pete for the first time since I'd met him two and a half decades ago, sharing how much I appreciated his work over the course of his long career--what his playing meant to me, and what his encouragement had meant to me as a young man. Of all players, he's the one I'm compared to most often, as much for our physical appearance as our playing, I imagine.
At least once a month or so, someone in an audience will come up to me and say "You remind of Pete Fountain." It's always a great honor, for me, as I've always felt he was one of the last of the real jazz clarinet greats--those with a big booming sound, and virtuosic, liquid technique. Along with Artie Shaw, Benny Goodman, Jimmie Noone, and very few others, he truly mastered our extremely difficult instruments...and not a gig goes by that I don't show my lineage in one way or another, using language that I picked up from albums of his. Anyone who has ever heard me play "Tin Roof Blues", "The Sheik of Araby", or "Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans" has undoubtedly heard Pete's influence. No matter how much I make those tunes my own, there's no way I could unlearn what Pete showed me about them (and no way I'd want to unlearn it).
Here are some things Pete sent me...some of them are now on display in my studio, some of them I take out now and again and wear for gigs. On Mardi Gras I always wear Pete Fountain "Half Fast Walking Club" Mardi Gras beads in honor of him, and people have sometimes mistaken the figures on the beads for me. It is a great honor to carry on the tradition he was such an important part of. My love and prayers go to Pete and his family today. God Bless Pete Fountain. One of the greatest has gone home.
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