Showing posts with label Buddy DeFranco. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Buddy DeFranco. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 20, 2026

Jazz Clarinet Timeline to 1961


Jazz Clarinet history, like all others, has certain benchmarks and watershed moments that are of great importance to both the development of the instrument and the overall trajectory of jazz. That this timeline isn't as well known as, say, the jazz trumpet timeline is not because ours is so insignificant--it's mainly because trumpet players have done a better job of educating their audience. The average jazz aficionado knows "Buddy Bolden--King Oliver--Louis Armstrong--Cootie Williams--Roy Eldridge--Dizzy Gillespie--Clifford Brown--Miles Davis--Wynton Marsalis" and can recite similar genealogies with the precision of a Biblical scholar. The clarinet list can be a bit more complicated, but is no less impressive in its own way.

Being familiar with the timeline helps us put artists into context, and understand the importance of the instrument's place in our culture. For the performer, this can give a glimpse into the type of musical symbolism that the horn holds to the greater public.

Some of the important dates on the Jazz Clarinet Timeline are well known. Mention 1938, and most informed jazz fans could tell you about Benny Goodman's Carnegie Hall Concert. Others are less well known.

Here is a basic history of jazz clarinet, with an emphasis on recorded efforts:

Pre-1922--Picou and Tio

New Orleans is the birthplace of jazz, and therefore the birthplace of jazz clarinet. The talking style of playing, the richness of the chalumeau, and the emphasis on full, round sound that can also cut when necessary are all legacies of New Orleans. Players and teachers such as Alphonse Picou and Lorenzo Tio shaped the tradition which was to follow, with Tio in particular teaching many of the NOLA masters of the first generation of recorded jazz clarinetists.

Sidney Bechet

Though he first recorded in 1923, a year affer Leon Roppolo, Bechet was a major musical figure in the United States and Europe prior to that session. It's impossible to exaggerate his importance, not only to clarinet history, but to saxophone and jazz history overall. Bechet has been called the first jazz musician to have a fully developed solo style, and Duke Ellington referred to him as the foundation and symbol of jazz. Of particular interest to the clarinetist are recordings such as 'Blue Horizon', and his duo recordings with another great New Orleans clarinetist, Albert Nicholas (on 'Old Stack O'Lee Blues', Bechet takes the second solo). But honestly, his complete recordings are a must for any serious clarinets. We can't can afford to ignore the depth, soul, and humanity of Sidney Bechet's playing, regardless of the era in which we hear him. In addition to his music making, his autobiography, Treat it Gentle, remains arguably the greatest book written on jazz.


1922--Leon Roppolo

Outside of specialists in early jazz, Leon Roppolo is little mentioned these days. As clarinetist for the New Orleans Rhythm Kings his playing was remarkable and foundational for his influence on Benny Goodman. His altissimo flexibility and overall control is generally overlooked today, but speaks to a much longer history of jazz clarinet excellence, even on a technical level, than is generally recognized. His playing had an impact on several players, including Irving Fazola, Benny Goodman, and Pete Fountain.



1925-27--Johnny Dodds records with Louis Armstrong's Hot Fives.

With the recordings of Johnny Dodds, we have access to an important figure in New Orleans jazz. The Hot Fives recordings made with Louis Armstrong are among the most influential in history, not simply because Armstrong was so important, but the ensemble was as well. Dodds's violin-esque flexibility and core sound are apparent on tunes like 'Lonesome Blues'.

And while the Hot Fives recordings remain his most famous recordings, his work with King Oliver was exceptional as well, not to mention sessions he lead himself. 

1926-27--Omer Simeon's Hot Peppers Sessions

Omer Simeon was, in the words of Barney Bigard, an "unsung hero." The sessions Simeon recorded with Jelly Roll Morton displayed a clarinetist with unique polish and subtlety of phrasing ability. (For a good example, check out 'Black Bottom Stomp'). From the outset, the notion of rough, out of tune, unprofessional playing as being somehow the legacy of early jazz is thrown out the window. Simeon's playing proves that soul and technique are not opposed--and like Roppolo, he helped provide a jazz basis for the polished elements, without resorting to a European classical approach.


1928-1930--Jimmie Noone leads a band at the Apex Club in Chicago

Like Simeon and Roppolo, Jimmie Noone's playing is a testament to the unity of technique and soul. Sweet, fluent, and strong at the same time, Noone brought a new level of virtuosity to the jazz clarinet. His chalumeau technique, known for rapid triplet figurations, is rightly singled out, yet perhaps overemphasized, as his flexibility between the altissimo, clarion, and chalumeau was equally impressive. His relentless pursuit of technical mastery lead him to take lessons from Franz Schoepp, teacher of Buster Bailey and the young Benny Goodman, even as he worked as a professional.

Noone's achievement has been too often overlooked. This is partly because he has had few imitators. His playing was at such a high level that few amateurs can approach it, and all too often the New Orleans/Chicago style has been maintained by dedicated amateurs who, admirable as their intent might be, tend to preserve best what they can themselves imitate. On top of this, Noone tends to be overshadowed by the person who learned from him most: Benny Goodman, who not only also studied with Schoepp, but was influenced by Noone's playing in his native Chicago.
   

1935--Benny Goodman on the "Let's Dance" Program

When a young Benny Goodman was chosen to lead one of the three bands featured on the nationally broadcast "Let's Dance" program, it was a major moment in the history of jazz. In the battle between "commercial" sweet bands and driving "hot" bands, Benny's was the vanguard of uncompromising swing. With a trumpet section that often included driving players like Bunny Berigan, Nick Kazebier, and Pee Wee Erwin, a sax section lead by Hymie Schertzer, Gene Krupa driving from the drummer's chair, and Benny himself playing more virtuosic horn than anyone had ever heard in a jazz band, the Goodman sound was crystallized as a hard hitting, driving force.


1935-36--Goodman's Broadcasts from the Congress Hotel in Chicago

These broadcasts, and this band, were singled out decades later as Goodman's favorite. He encouraged jazz fans to give them another listen, and hear how the band played for the love of the music rather than for mere commercial gain or star status. Fortunately, many excellent recordings still exist from air checks and studio recordings of that time. Historically speaking, it was this band that drove a young Artie Shaw to abandon his "first retirement" when he heard his old rival over the radio one night, as he was driving through the Pennsylvania hills to a farmhouse he was soon to sell.

Spring, 1936-- Artie Shaw's 'Interlude in B-flat'

At the Imperial Theatre in New York, Shaw made his first of many returns to the music business with a composition of his own, entitled Interlude in B-flat for clarinet, strings and piano-less rhythm section. Complimented by George Gershwin after the performance, the piece propelled Shaw into the national discussion and still serves as an anthology of early jazz clarinet techniques, a display of liquid virtuosity, and a precursor to what was later called "Third Stream" (though Shaw himself rejected both the term and most of the music later produced under that label).


August 1936--The Goodman Quartet formed

Arguably the most important small group in the history of clarinet jazz, and among a handful of the most important small groups in the history of music. Goodman's Quartet with Teddy Wilson, Lionel Hampton, and Gene Krupa expanded jazz technically, soulfully, and socially.


1937-39-- The Camel Caravan ("Camel Hot Club") Radio Program

Benny's influence over the airwaves continued through the late 1930s. Using his popularity as a bully pulpit for jazz, Goodman put together an entertaining weekly show featuring his band, his quartet, and the songwriting abilities of Johnny Mercer. Central to the theme of the show was the shtick of Benny as a light hearted professor of jazz--but the history lessons, thin though they might seem by today's standards, were real attempts at raising awareness. A young Pete Fountain listened every week to this broadcast.

January 16, 1938--Goodman leads the First All-Jazz Concert at Carnegie Hall

The shot heard round the jazz world. With this, jazz entered the discussion of serious art music--a discussion that has not always benefited jazz musically, but in many ways has helped preserve the art when popular trends pulled a gullible public away. Once again, Benny's penchant for educating his audience was on display, as he presented not only his own band, but a retrospective which included nods to Louis Armstrong, Bix Beiderbecke, Count Basie (who also performed that night with Goodman), and members of the Ellington band. The Goodman band was not perfect on this night, but several performances, chief among them "Sing Sing Sing" were so profound as to demonstrate the range and depth of American jazz. Goodman, Harry James, and Jess Stacy's solos from that number in particular rival anything written by the highly respected classical composers whose music graced the venue.

Christmas, 1938-Artie Shaw performs 'The Blues' at Carnegie Hall

1938 was a high water mark for the rivalry between Goodman and Shaw. Artie took over the charts that year when his arrangement of a little known Cole Porter tune, 'Begin the Beguine' rocketed him to number one in the nation. From that point on, battle lines were drawn in the press and the public imagination. The year that held so many great musical moments for jazz clarinet, beginning with Goodman's triumph at Carnegie Hall, ended with Shaw's own masterful performance in the same venue.

1940-The first Gramercy 5 is formed

In the Fall of 1940, Artie Shaw called together members of his band to form a "chamber jazz" group that would feature his clarinet, plus muted trumpet, guitar, bass, drums, and, of all instruments, harpsichord--one of the most unique combinations of the era. Like Goodman's Quartet, it diverged from the New Orleans line-up popular since the days of King Oliver. Among the first singles recorded, the blues tune "Summit Ridge Drive" (named for Shaw's home address where the group had rehearsed) became a million seller.

The various Gramercy 5s that Shaw was to assemble over the next fourteen years were to feature some of his finest music--and come closest to his own unyielding artistic goals.


1944--Rompin' with Edmond Hall

By 1944, New Orleans clarinetist Edmond Hall (best know for his work with Louis Armstrong) had absorbed the influence of Goodman and Shaw, fusing it with his own inimitable warmth, to produce some of the greatest (and most neglected) swing era jazz clarinet. The recording sessions for "Rompin' in '44" provide a unique glimpse into this rare genius. There are few jazz musicians who have ever transcended their era--growing into different styles beyond their first popularity. Goodman never convincingly grew into a bebop player, nor did Louis Armstrong, for instance. Of the great jazz clarinetists, the two who stand out most in this regard are Shaw (who was able to expand his musical language indefinitely) and Hall, whose unique brand of NOLA swing remains a benchmark for soulful performance. His 1944 sessions produced many masterpieces, among them cuts of "Caravan" and "Besame Mucho" which have never been surpassed.

1947-48--The unlikely career and tragic death of Stan Hasselgård

In 1947, a young Swede named Åke "Stan" Hasselgård relocated to New York, in order to fully pursue his passion for jazz. Possessing a full sound reminiscent of the swing masters, he began immediately absorbing the more cutting-edge bebop language of the day, making him one of the few boppers who maintained a jazz-based clarinet sound, rather than approaching the horn from a classical angle. He was given the rare honor of being invited to join the Benny Goodman Sextet, and we are fortunate to have live recordings of that unique ensemble. On November 23, 1948 he was tragically killed in a car accident outside of Decatur, Illinois, but before this happened he had already pointed a way for modern jazz clarinet.

April 23, 1949--Buddy DeFranco records as a leader. 

One of the longest and most critically decorated tenures for a jazz clarinetist began in 1949, when a 26 year old Buddy DeFranco recorded a set of modern jazz tunes with an orchestra including such luminaries as Lee Konitz, Irv Kluger, and Serge Chaloff. The intelligent, virtuosic approach of DeFranco proved conclusively what the foreshortened career of Stan Hasselgård only hinted at: that the clarinet was a worthy vehicle for modern jazz of all varieties.

Despite the overwhelming evidence he commited to record, his vaste acheivement has yet to be properly assessed. Anyone who thinks the clarinet disappeared after the swing era must simply be ignorant of Buddy's work.      

1953--Buddy DeFranco: Mr. Clarinet

After "The King of Swing" and "King of the Clarinet" the name "Mr. Clarinet" sounds both bold and humble, simultaneously. The boldness is justified, as this, perhaps more than any recordings before it, threw down the bebop gauntlet. The quartet album is crammed with classic takes--including such essential tracks as "Buddy's Blues", "Ferdinando", and "It Could Happen to You", with Buddy joined by Art Blakey, Milt Hinton, and Kenny Drew.

1953 - Tony Scott: The Brunswick Sessions

One of the most unique and wide ranging jazz clarinetists in history, Tony Scott, made his debut recordings as a Quartet leader with his Brunswick sessions. Released under various titles, these sessions gave a new shape to modern jazz clarinet - lyrical, probing, insistent and often extreme in register and volume, Scott might be compared to Miles Davis if Buddy DeFranco was Dizzy Gillespie. Like DeFranco, his existence and long catalog of masterful albums contradicts the narrative that clarinet was no longer represented in jazz after the Swing Era.   


1954--The Final Gramercy 5 sessions

Among the very finest jazz clarinet recordings ever made, these last recordings of the enigmatic Artie Shaw were recorded after weeks of meticulous, paid rehearsal--highly unusual for that era. It seems Shaw deliberately recorded his "whole book" before saying goodbye to the world of creative music making. The four CDs worth of material left to us from those sessions serve as both a retrospective and precursor to much of what followed in modern jazz. 

When these were released in the 1990s, Shaw gave his opinion on the history of jazz since the final Gramercy 5, an opinion that perhaps sheds considerable light on jazz clarinet, and why it might have struggled since then:

"Isn't it interesting--here we are, almost 40 years later, and the records still hold up. [...] Not a lot has happened in jazz since 1954, except that it got more esoteric and hate-filled. I don't know what's going on in the music now. Music is not a political instrument; if you want to do that, you write the 'Horst Wessel Song' or the 'Star Spangled Banner', neither of which has very much to do with music. Look at the Russians with their painting--when it becomes 'socialist realism', come on, you're dealing with caricature." 

For those who can read between the lines, this is a highly compact and bracing indictment of much of the more ideologically driven jazz since 1954. For the jazz clarinetist, it's worth thinking through in particular, as esoteric and angry "hate-filled" music seem even less congruent with a deep understanding of our instrument than others.



1959--Pete Fountain's Tetralogy

In 1959, Pete Fountain came to his famous realization that "Champagne and Bourbon don't mix", decided that Hollywood just wasn't for him, and packed his family for the return trip to New Orleans. But before he left, he cut two very important albums. The first, Pete Fountain's New Orleans, seamlessly blended Pete's New Orleans style clarinet with a cool, West Coast rhythm section. It went on to become one of Fountain's best selling records, and is still available for download over sixty years later. The second, equally impressive despite having sadly slipped into obscurity, is Pete's first collaboration with the large ensemble scoring of Charles 'Bud' Dant, entitled The Blues.

After arriving in New Orleans, Pete quickly recorded two others--Live at the Bateau Lounge and Pete Fountain Day. Both of these are out of print, which is a major problem for clarinetists hoping to get a full picture of Fountain's brilliance as a jazz musician. These four remarkable albums recorded in five months are referred to here as Pete Fountain's Tetralogy.
 
Without question, Pete Fountain was the most successful jazz clarinetist with the general public since the days of Benny Goodman and Artie Shaw. That he didn't play bebop, and that his commercial success has sometimes been fueled by Nashville arrangements and easy listening albums, has often lead to his neglect by establishment critics. Yet few of his detractors have noticed two very important things: first, that the two biggest criticisms of Pete Fountain's style (that he is either too traditional or not traditional enough) are contradictory, and second, that his fusion of traditional New Orleans jazz with West Coast cool jazz and Nashville were as brilliant as Edmond Hall's fusion of NOLA and 'hot' swing.
 
The Tetralogy in particular forms a body of impressive work that ought to be required listening for all jazz clarinetists. 
 
Pete Fountain's massive recorded output over the next several decades accomplished more than stylistic fusion: he kept alive the tradition of jazz clarinet sound, steeped in both New Orleans tradition (from Irving Fazola's influence) and swing (from Benny Goodman). That the public has preferred this beautiful style of playing is worth noting and carrying forward.  
 
 
1959-61--Bill Smith's Trilogy with Dave Brubeck

In one of the rare blessed moments for a jazz clarinetist since 1954, Bill Smith managed to get three albums of his own compositions recorded with a top modern jazz ensemble: the Dave Brubeck Quartet. The resulting records (The Riddle, Brubeck a la Mode, and Near-Myth) presented some of the most interesting and satisfying jazz clarinet of any era.

 
***
[This is a revision of the original timeline published back in 2013]

[Part 2 of this Timeline will consider the developments in the world of Jazz Clarinet since 1961] 

Saturday, May 2, 2020

JazzTimes Critics List Clarinetists in their Underrated Class


In a JazzTimes article originating in 1997, but updated only a few weeks ago, thirteen critics were invited to sound off on which among the jazz greats were overrated and which were more underappreciated. Of note were the absence of clarinetists in the overrated category, but several clarinet greats mentioned as deserving wider acclaim.  

Writing of the great Pete Fountain, who was still active as of the original 1997 publication, Doug Ramsey said: 

"He underrates himself. His ear for harmony and mastery of time are among the best-kept secrets in jazz because all these years he has chosen to stick with the repertoire and sidemen that make him comfortable. I’d like to kidnap Fountain and lock him in a recording studio with Kenny Barron, Ron Carter and Victor Lewis. He would surprise himself."

 Then came Neil Tesser, writing of Buddy DeFranco:

"Probably because he came along just as the clarinet was fading as a jazz staple, DeFranco gets overlooked when the discussion turns to either (a) his instrument or (b) his metier, bebop—an idiom not known for producing great clarinet players. But he just might be the finest improvising clarinetist in jazz history, blessed with great harmonic knowledge, technical wizardry, and a meaty and expressive tone."
 Jack Sohmer added praise of Albert Nicholas...

"A paragon of the Creole style of clarinet playing, Nicholas worked and recorded with King Oliver, Jelly Roll Morton and Luis Russell from the mid-1920s through the ’30s. His crystalline tone, impeccable technique, and command of the blues finally came to widespread attention during the New Orleans revival movement of the mid-’40s. Had he not spent his last 20 years in Europe, where he was almost as famous as Sidney Bechet, he would undoubtedly have been better known in America."

...and Pee Wee Russell:

"A genius to those who value originality, Russell had always been a controversial clarinetist. He was uniformly respected by Louis, Bix, Teagarden, Freeman and the Condon gang, but he was also derided by others who failed to understand his obstinate nonconformity. His highly personal sound, replete with growling rasps and wistful mutterings, coupled with his advanced harmonic sense and angular phrasing, combined to form a style unique in jazz history." 

It's great to see these great clarinetists get some attention. Let's hope the reevaluation of jazz history continues in this century, giving more weight to the practitioners of this great jazz instrument!



 

Saturday, December 27, 2014

Buddy DeFranco on JazzWax

One of the finest jazz blogs out there, Marc Myers has posted a brief overview of Buddy DeFranco's career on JazzWax, along with links to his many interviews with the late clarinet giant.

Myers's work makes his blog one of the finest compendiums of thought on Buddy's importance and contribution to jazz history. I'm personally grateful for his work, and highly recommend others check it out.


Thursday, December 25, 2014

R.I.P. Buddy DeFranco

The Chicago Tribune has reported that one of the greatest of jazz clarinetists, Buddy DeFranco, passed away at age 91 last night on Christmas Eve.

Buddy was a virtuoso whose dazzling skills brought the clarinet decisively into the bop era, and whose consistent excellence over the decades had few parallels or equals in the world of jazz.

According to the article, DeFranco had not performed in the past two years, and there will be a celebration of his career sometime next year. May he rest in peace, and may his loved ones be comforted this Christmas season.


Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Buddy DeFranco & Count Basie

It can be very difficult to find any of the music Buddy DeFranco made while a member of the Count Basie Sextet in the early 1950s. Fortunately, some great footage of this group has been posted here.

Friday, January 3, 2014

Buddy DeFranco & Tommy Gumina* (pol*y*tones) * Mercury (MG 20833) * 1963

  • Side A

  • The Monkey
  • My Ship
  • Gravy Waltz
  • My Man's Gone Now
  • I Remember Bird

Side B

Bus Driver in the Sky
Spring Will Be Late This Year
Nica's Dream
When I Fall In Love


  • Buddy DeFranco, clarinet
  • Tommy Gumina, accordion
  • John Doling, bass
  • John Guerin, drums/perussion


For sheer jaw dropping virtuosity, chances are the Buddy DeFranco/Tommy Gumina quartet of the early 1960s is the greatest jazz group you've never heard. Other than a set of standards, Pacific Standard (Swingin') Time, their collected work has been left to languish, out of print. To my knowledge, the only way to hear the other four albums is to get a hold of the old vinyl--which I heartily recommend. 

The group was formed when DeFranco was on a west coast trip in 1959 and found himself without a pianist. When Tommy Gumina, an accordion player, was suggested, DeFranco was inclined to dismiss the idea out of hand--until he heard the virtuosic polychordal approach Gumina was developing. Marc Myers, over at JazzWax, interviewed Buddy back in 2011 about the founding of the quartet. In it, Myers delves into the attraction of polytonal and polychordal music to DeFranco, documenting the group's under-reported and under-appreciated contribution to jazz development in a tonal and harmonic sense.

Rarely mentioned and long out of print, 1963's (pol*y*tones) represents, according to DeFranco himself in the interview, the zenith of the Buddy DeFranco/Tommy Gumina Quartet. On the album, Gumina uses an accordio-organ, a sort of hybrid between a Hammond organ sound and accordion. He described it in the liner notes to the album:

The instrument is appropriately named, says Tommy, because you can play organ on it, accordion, or both. It reproduces the same 16 ft., 8 ft., and 4 ft. sounds that you get on a regular organ. The organ effects were developed with 200 transistors; the accordion sounds are produced with three sets of reeds for the right hand and six for the left.

"There's a foot pedal for volume, several degrees of vibrato and three different degrees of sustaining. But it looks just like a regular accordion."

The feats Gumina accomplished on the instrument were so extraordinary that Leonard Feather felt it necessary to mention the album was made without overdubs.

There nine tunes on the album are a mix of standards, originals, and then-contemporary tunes.

The Monkey (DeFranco/Gumina)
My Ship (Weill and Gershwin)
Gravy Waltz (Brown and Allen)
My Man's Gone Now (Gershwin and Heyward)
I Remember Bird (Feather)
Bus Driver in the Sky (DeFranco)
Spring Will Be A Little Late This Year (Loesser)
Nica's Dream (Silver)
When I Fall In Love (Heyman and Young)

Highlights for me are the Gershwin's "My Man's Gone Now" and, for sheer intensity and flash, DeFranco's own "Bus Driver in the Sky." These tunes are remarkably compact, many under three minutes, and none longer than four and a half, yet almost like an aural illusion, they seem rather vast is scope.

These albums, if neglected since, undoubtedly made a significant impact upon contemporaneous jazz musicians. It's hard not to hear, in Gumina's angular brilliance, a significant keyboard forerunner to the synthesizer virtuosi of the next thirty years. Buddy doesn't seem to have worried about taking a more mellow role on the album--for a man who celebrated his role as a developer of technique, he often fills out the sound broadly, allowing his co-leader to take the spotlight. There are a tremendous number of brilliant time changes, and the rhythm section filled out by John Doling on bass and John Guerin on drums, are more than solid: they are often almost imperceptibly remarkable.

As with so many masterpieces of jazz clarinet history, this album really ought to be reissued. As DeFranco's favorite of the era, and as revolutionary as the group was, it is important to the history of jazz as a whole, rather than just as a curiosity for those who place clarinet or accordion. These gentlemen, up against a wall of zeitgeist that saw little place for their music at the time, created something permanent and timeless.

I had hoped to get this review written long ago, before the passing of Mr. Gumina in October of 2013--may he rest in peace, and perhaps even get to ride that bus in the sky.

Mr. DeFranco, if you are reading this post, thank you for the tremendous music you have made.





Wednesday, September 4, 2013

David Stone Martin Album Covers

Most of us who participate in jazz, either as musicians or as listeners, owe in some way a debt of gratitude to Norman Granz, the impresario who is perhaps best remembered for spear-heading the Jazz at the Philharmonic series and founding five important record labels: Clef, Norgran, Down Home, Pablo, and Verve. Albums like Bird with Strings, Bird & Diz, the Ella Fitzgerald Songbook series, Lady Sings the Blues, and a vast slew of other classics might never have reached the public without him.

Granz was not only remarkably attuned to musical values, but understood the importance of matching great music to great contemporary art. His hiring of David Stone Martin, an artist with a rare understanding of jazz, was a stroke of brilliance. Stone Martin's album covers are deservedly revered in their own right, and some of his finest works depicted the clarinet and jazz clarinetists.  

In 1954, Granz convinced a reluctant Artie Shaw to release four albums worth of his last Gramercy 5 sessions on the Clef label. The albums are extremely rare these days: they went almost entirely unnoticed and fell immediately out of print, with rights reverting back to Shaw, who didn't share them with the world again for several decades. Unfortunately, the Clef releases didn't present Shaw's work particularly well sonically--choosing to emphasize Shaw the soloist, the audio mix brings his clarinet so far to the foreground that the rest of the band sounds muddied and less relevant: mere accompaniment. This fault was corrected on Shaw's subsequent releases of the material, but if the final Gramercy 5 had any chance of success, conceptually, in the 1950s, the Clef versions did little to help. Moreover, Granz, whose heart was certainly in the right place, nevertheless shot the project in the foot with his liner notes, defensively suggesting that Artie was a real jazz musician (as though that needed proof), and that he didn't lose sight of the melody in the recordings (as though that mattered). The sum total of the Clef recordings, between the vinyl and the back covers, amounted to naught but stoked disappointment for Shaw, leaving only one overwhelming saving grace: the covers by David Stone Martin, which happen to be some of the greatest artworks inspired by jazz clarinet.

These album covers are now extremely rare. Unlike the more famous bop covers for Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, which have been issued and reissued regularly, the Shaw Gramercy 5 covers immediately fell into obscurity. I have three of the covers, along with my three favorite Stone Martin Buddy DeFranco covers, on the wall of my studio (the bottom three in the pictures below).





 
David Stone Martin Jazz Clarinet Covers: (clockwise from top left) Buddy DeFranco and Oscar Peterson play Gershwin, The Music of Buddy DeFranco, Buddy DeFranco: Closed Session, Artie Shaw Gramercy Five #4, Artie Shaw Gramercy Five #3, Artie Shaw Gramercy Five #1



 
These album covers are my favorite depictions of the clarinet, and of the music, that I've ever run across. David Stone Martin not only understood the construction of the clarinet, but something of the feel of playing it. His varying abstractions of the keys and the joint sizes (particularly on The Music of Buddy DeFranco) speaks of a mind actively engaged in what it is to play clarinet. The differences between his depictions of DeFranco and Shaw are as telling as the musicians' styles: the modernist profile of DeFranco, with concentrated, abstractedly gnarled fingers (as though he was working out a particularly vexing problem); the reflective, meditative Shaw bowing his head and listening.

The pictures tell stories, too: how many jazz clarinetists will recognize the scene of a bed, with an open case--practicing in the bedroom or a hotel room before a gig? Then there is the cover of DeFranco's Closed Session: Buddy stares at the "fine instruments", his head turned away from the tenor sax (rejecting the double?), casually looking while his own horn is safely tucked under his shoulder, the case melding into his torso. Perhaps the masterpiece of them all is the final Gramercy 5 release, with the stabbed heart, like a guitar, the clarinet, and the profile of the beautiful woman--is she dancing to the music or is she leaving him? The poignancy of the abstraction works like a triad, but one so subtle we can't tell whether it's major or minor--in reality it's a graceful, extended chord.

Great album art is rare. Some labels have opted for a sensible and safer approach than Norman Granz's labels did: black and white photos of the musicians themselves is usually a smart way to go, and labels like Blue Note have produced some of the most iconic jazz photos utilizing that method. Rolling the dice on contemporary art styles and graphic design is considerably more dangerous. Having said this, we can be grateful for the many risks Granz took, and for the masterful work of David Stone Martin.

For jazz clarinetists, the work is inspiring: these covers are a testament to the complexity, beauty, and value of the music we have dedicated so much of our lives to.   



Thursday, June 13, 2013

CD Review: Buddy DeFranco * Mr. Clarinet * Verve * 1953

As with many recordings from the early 1950s, the tunes collected on Buddy DeFranco's Mr. Clarinet album were released in many packages, on several Norman Granz created labels, including Clef, Norgran, and Verve. The advantage of Mr. Clarinet is simply that it is still commercially available and that it contains all the tunes from the January and April 15, 1953 recording sessions of the Buddy DeFranco Quartet.

If a man can be known by the company he keeps, there is little to say beyond listing the sidemen for these dates: Kenny Drew, Milt Hinton, and Art Blakey should be enough to convince anyone to check this album out.

Among the most important recordings in jazz clarinet history are a few sides cut by the Buddy DeFranco Sextet in 1949 for Capitol (available on Buddy DeFranco/Lennie Tristano Crosscurrents). Tunes like "Extrovert" and "Good for Nothing Joe" were the beginning of something big: in many ways they are the fulfillment of what Stan Hasselgard hinted at when he began applying bop ideas to the clarinet around the same time. Buddy did more than hint: those Capitol sessions contain bop clarinet that stands up well over half a century later. Instead of pursuing this sextet concept, however, DeFranco was to keep plugging away at the Big Band business for a a few more years. He was late quoted dismissing the early sextet as too much like the George Shearing Quintet "with a clarinet."

A couple of points ought to be made here. First, the timbres essential to the early DeFranco quintet, while influenced in musical execution by Shearing, were developed by Goodman and Shaw a decade earlier: in an orchestrational sense, the Shearing Quintet was the Benny Goodman Sextet without clarinet. Five years after DeFranco's breakthrough session, Artie Shaw's last Gramercy 5 was also derided by certain critics as "Shearing with clarinet", but these critics only betrayed their ignorance: Shearing himself told Shaw that his quintet was modeled after the mid-40s Gramercy 5. (See Tom Nolan's Artie Shaw: King of the Clarinet, Norton 2010, page 280). So much for "Shearing with a clarinet" then: the model orchestration of clarinet, vibes, guitar, piano, bass, drums was developed by clarinetists and is as uniquely effective a line-up as the old New Orleans combo or the standard bop quintet.

This aside, Buddy was probably thinking in terms of financial viability rather than artistic provenance when he abandoned the early sextet project. By 1953, however, he was back in the small group business. Because it is so stripped down, and focuses so clearly on Buddy's horn, it's my pick for the the perfect introduction to Buddy's playing.

The album opens up with "Buddy's Blues", representing an entirely different approach to clarinet blues than one might hear with Goodman, Shaw, or Fountain. DeFranco was by this point a fully formed bop musician, and his soloing is unique among clarinetists to this point. Listen carefully to his finger technique: he has a 'hard' approach to fingers that is reminiscent of Leon Russianoff's classical method, but put to distinctly jazz usage in his "falls" at the ends of blues phrases. Because Buddy opted for a more locked-in tone, without as much use of scoops and pitch bend, he found different ways of expanding jazz timbral vocabulary with his finger technique--the blues "falls" are one example.

Buddy's precision is well known, as are his Hanon exercises transcribed for clarinet. But too often overlooked is the fact that all of this technique and precision was consciously developed to serve a distinctly musical purpose. Listening carefully to his lines on every tune of Mr. Clarinet  I'm particularly impressed with the naturally nuanced quality of it all--that each line seems to contribute towards the organic flow of a greater whole.

Also unique, though not without precedent, is his use of that reedy, almost classical sound with a distinctively tasteful vibrato. Johnny Mince, too often neglected in jazz clarinet histories, was an acknowledged influence on Buddy, and it shows well here, transformed though the influence be in Buddy's own voice.

Buddy DeFranco remains one of the few truly great masters of the jazz clarinet--one who had both a unique and comprehensive approach to the horn, developing it to mastery. Mr. Clarinet is a great starting point for anyone wanting to check out his art.

Five Good Reeds.



Sunday, December 2, 2012

Ed Rosa with the Harry James Orchestra * Oh Lady Be Good * 1945

In the liner notes to Eddie Daniels' 1994 album Real Time, Buddy DeFranco writes "[Eddie] has made his mark. I have heard as many Eddie clones as I have Benny, Artie, or [myself]."

That's always seemed to me a great compliment, except for one small thing: in all my years of listening to and collecting jazz clarinet recordings, I've never heard an Artie Shaw clone. Who else had command of the instrument in all registers the way Shaw did, with complete flexibility? Who could combine those qualities with lyricism and power? And so Buddy's compliment always rang a bit hollow to me--a drop of hyperbole seemed to spoil it.

Buddy came up during that era, though, and doubtless heard many players whose efforts remained unrecorded and un heralded. I've just stumbled across one such player in Hindsight Records 3-disc set of the Harry James Orchestra entitled Bandstand Memories 1938-1948. In the middle of the third disc, there is a cut of "Oh, Lady be Good" that jumps out. Harry James doesn't play, handing over solo duty to one of his utility wind players, Ed Rosa, instead.

When I first heard it, I thought Shaw must have been sitting in with the band. Rosa's altissimo is comparable--full, strong, mellow. His technique is fluid and his language sounds directly influenced by Shaw. Indeed, here is a "Shaw clone" if ever there was one.

By 1945, James's Orchestra was huge by Big Band Era standards. A full string section and auxiliary instruments such as valve trombone, flute, bass clarinet, and bass trombone were common. Rosa is listed in the liner notes as a flutist, but he obviously doubled on clarinet--though he was obviously no mere doubler. To master the clarinet well enough to fool anyone into thinking Artie Shaw was playing is a rare accomplishment. I can't think of anyone else who has, though Buddy DeFranco's quote suggests that there were at least a few. I hope there are other recordings of Rosa's clarinet prowess available--I'll certainly post my findings if any turn up.

Until then, here is a link to the Harry James Orchestra playing "Oh Lady Be Good" with the remarkable Ed Rosa, and unsung hero of jazz clarinet, playing the solo.

[The YouTube link lists this recording as being from 1944. The recording I have is dated August 24, 1945].