Johnny Dodds * Indigo Stomp *1929

Johnny Dodds is a foundational figure by any estimation, not only in the history of the clarinet, but for jazz in general. His recordings with King Oliver's Creole Orchestra and the Louis Armstrong Hot Fives and Sevens cemented his place as one of the rare soloists strong enough to play alongside Armstrong without giving up musical ground during his choruses. Most often remembered as part of the early New Orleans clarinet triumvirate along with Sidney Bechet and Jimmie Noone, his unique contribution can sometimes seem obscured by those two giants. Bechet had a explosive soloing creativity and overpowering musical personality: in many ways forming a sort of "primary epic" for the jazz clarinet. By contrast, Jimmie Noone was the first great virtuoso, with a perfectly balanced sound, articulation, and facility: universally admired by clarinetists and so intimidating he was rarely copied, except by the likes of Goodman, whose technique could bear comparison. Dodds is generally considered the gritty, bluesy member of the triumvirate, and while he has his devoted followers, he also had his detractors (among them Barney Bigard, who was sometimes acerbic in his criticism).

Yet Dodds is certainly worthy of his equal place in the triumvirate, for the unique contribution he brought: his range of timbre, power, and blues figurations arranged with precise rhythmic structure and meaning. Benny Goodman called him the clarinetist with the greatest sound in the Chicago of his youth, which is saying a lot, considering Jimmie Noone, Leon Roppolo, Omer Simeon, and many others were active on that scene. We can only imagine what he sounded like in person, especially as he was known to distrust microphones and try to stay away from them in recording studios. Still, the documents he left us over the course of his relatively brief career (like Noone and Irving Fazola, he died in his 40s), shows an unprecedented range of timbre. One moment is he full, rich, smooth in tone, the next he sounds as though the intensity of his core sound will rip the clarinet in half. He commanded the extremes and all points in between. And that's not the sum total of his contribution: his technique was far more polished and fluid than most noticed (and by 'most', I include Artie Shaw, Buddy DeFranco and, somewhat embarrassingly, myself as a young man). His soloing style was baroque, but not mere noodling, and his rhythmic understanding was as influential and subtle as any in jazz history. To listen carefully to Johnny Dodds, and to truly understand what he's doing, is in some ways such a thorough education in the facets of jazz that one will be prepared for almost any future development (up through Monk and Miles). To my more mature ears, it seems that with Dodds, it's all there in embryonic form.

Like Bechet he was a prolific composer of his own tunes, which are idiomatic for our instrument and worthy of study. One great example is Indigo Stomp from 1929...at a time when he was also pioneering the clarinet lead trio. Enjoy.      

More About Pete Fountain

Gregory A. Harrison, the longtime friend and mouthpiece adjuster for Pete Fountain, has published an informative article on the late New Orleans master in The Clarinet this month.  

Included are a couple of transcriptions jazz clarinetists will want to look at (the choruses on Tiger Rag and China Boy are among the most important in Pete's career) and a lot of great information on Pete's equipment.

Dr. Harrison has long been a friend of this blog as well: I'm grateful that he has read some of my articles over the years and it was through him that I was able to get back in touch with Pete before his passing. Many thanks Greg, for your continued interest in Pete's work, and willingness to share.  

The Hot Club @ the Cleveland Museum of Art

It was great to play for the Winter Lantern Fest at the Cleveland Museum of Art yesterday. We had Kevin Richards on guitar, Gene Epstein on bass, and Bill Fuller on drums.

Cleveland Renaissance

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:

    

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.

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. 

Some Thoughts on Musical Worthiness

A friend of mine on Facebook, who is a classical style composer, posted a thoughtful question about musical worthiness and self-doubt. I commented from the perspective of a jazz musician, and found what was drawn out by the discussion to be of potential interest to readers of The Jazz Clarinet. Here's an edited version of my response:

The fear of worthiness is crippling and arguably the least useful emotion for any creative artist. Aspiration to excellence is commendable, and even essential, but it should be exercised without the worrisome glance in the mirror, so to speak. The mirror doesn't really matter, and anyhow, the mirror always lies.. 

All creative artists have to trust two very basic things. They have to Trust the Gift, and they have to Trust the Process. Of the two, the process is the bigger challenge. Trusting the gift is pretty obvious, once you accept it: you really have nothing to do with it. You're either capable of being a musician or not. You either have the talent to be able to work hard enough to convincingly play a Mozart Concerto, or a 12 bar blues, or a sing a Puccini aria, or write a fugue, or you don't. If you don't, chances are you're doing something else with your life and not worrying about it. 


Trusting the process is much harder, because everyone's process is different--we have to FIND it first-- and we can get sidelined in life following processes that don't fit us. Trusting the process demands that we sincerely evaluate who we are as musicians and live it honestly, to the best of our ability. So here's the proper use of self-criticism--not the narcissistic glance in the mirror with the worries about worthiness, but the serious look into the musical self; the examination of the musical conscience, so to speak, to see where the true strengths and weaknesses are, accepting them, and putting in place the proper process to bring the best of you out. Oftentimes people need teachers for that...oftentimes, you just need to work with the right people to draw those qualities out. 


It is not necessary or even possible to understand how the "Elysian Spark" you mentioned works. I would suggest it's a theoretical distraction if the actual artist tries to decipher it. It's like this: I believe God created the heavens and the earth. How he did it, I dunno. Worrying about that is some scientist's job. I can be interested in the question, but I can't let it consume me. I've got music to make. Likewise I believe the musical gift was given to me to play this miraculous musical system called jazz...and I believe this mysterious thing called music is out there, is real, is between musicians and an audience and the angels and the stars...but I don't know how it works. We scratch at it with things called chords and scales and meters...but who knows what it really is? Bechet said that the music feeling in us must reach out and join the music outside of ourselves, and that's when it's right. That's about as close as I've ever heard anyone get to it...unless is was Elgar saying that he felt the music was out there, and he was just taking it down. Wynton Marsalis has said some similar things. 


To BE who you ARE. That's the answer. Are you a Beethoven? Not many are. It takes hundreds of Stamitzes and Wagenseil's to make a Haydn, let alone a Beethoven. Satie was a musical cripple, combined with bizarre musical genius. He turned his weaknesses into strengths. He knew who he was. Bruckner patiently outlasted the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune to realize his musical vision...or at least enough of it, despite his crippling self-doubt...Acker Bilk had teeth knocked out on the playground as a kid, and was missing part of his finger, but he wrote his songs and played his own bizarre, powerful, soulful clarinet and touched peoples' lives. 

Play your thing. Sing your song. Find what you do and do it, whether in in rags or tuxedos. Find the true music feeling in you and reach out to the music outside of you and give it away. Peace, friend. You're the real thing as a musician. I've known that since I was kid sitting in Youth Symphony with you conducting us...and at the time I was admittedly more concerned with the pretty blonde girl next to me than Dvorak. Call me a multi-tasker, though, cuz I noticed the real music in you then. Keep Swinging. 

Cleveland Jazz on the Street

I'm grateful to have been asked by Roots of American Music to lead a trio during each of the four days the Republican National Convention is here in Cleveland. We're taking part in a non-partisan cultural exposition called Arts Intervention, where select groups have been chosen to represent the diversity and vitality of the Cleveland arts scene.

My trio will perform as street musicians uptown (today and tomorrow), then on Wednesday we'll relocate downtown, where most of the action is.

Here's a clip of us playing my tune "Blue Mardi Gras" earlier today at the corner of Mayfield Road & Euclid Avenue, in uptown Cleveland.

Eric Seddon, clarinet
Kevin Richards, guitar
Ray DeForest, bass