Larry Kart

Actually it was quite interesting to see how the reasonably grounded/specific discussions at our four-person table (one of those people was bassist-composer Stafford James) were turned into semi-pablum by the amiable "facilitator" at our table who manned a lap top and then were further homogenized, even wholly transformed, when they reached the front of the room in order to meet the needs and expectations of the guys in charge. It was so smooth as to be almost invisible. On the other hand, I think there may be enough grounded, take-care-of-business guys on the Chicago scene to fend off the worst of this assault and get some of the dough that's left into the hands of real music makers. But $75,000 was spent!

To modify a point I made early in this thread, the answer to the jazz "problem" is full-service brothels where you get paid by arts funding organizations to use the facilities. Free booze too. And that's where the guys play, for their part of the funding dime. Kind of an inside-out Storyville. And you take the "jazz train" to get there.

As were (most of?) the remarkable Sauter-Finegan Orchestra recordings.

Yep -- recorded at Webster Hall: http://www.kokomo.ca/singles/1950_54.htm

Great shot of the interior of Webster Hall here: http://www.websterhall.com/about/history.php Talk about a "room"!

"Webster Hall was built in 1886 at the 125 East 11th Street, New York City, and was designed by the architect Charles Rentz. Webster Hall initially served as America's first modern Night Club; however it later evolved to be a concert venue, recording venue and a corporate events center as well. It was during 1950s when Webster Hall also started hosting live concerts from Latin performers like Tito Rodriguez and Tito Puente to the folk musicians such as Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger. Later RCA Records turned the Webster Hall in to their East Coast Recording Venue, making it Webster Hall Studios." Apparently the building still exists and has been restored/transformed into a night club and recording studio, but I won't beleive it sounds like the old Webster Hall unless someone I trust says otherwise.

Probably Webster Hall, another great and long-gone NYC recording venue.

It's also Berghofer who plays the inimitable descending bass figure on Nancy Sinatra's "These Boots Are Made For Walking" (it comes after Nancy sings the first verse): http://www.amazon.com/Boots-Nancy-Sinatra/...5055&sr=1-2

"Barney Miller Theme":

Chicago was a big commercial jingle town up though the '80s. Jazz musicians with top-drawer reading skills were in high demand because they had the flexibility and inventiveness to make effective adjustments on the fly in fluid situations. It wasn't a commercial, but I think we've mentioned before how when in L.A. they were recording the theme song for the "Barney Miller Show" (a Dave Grusin thing?), and it just wasn't working, bassist Chuck Berghofer grasped what was missing and came up on the spot with the earthy solo-bass passage that made it happen.

I'm sorry, but I think that at least half of Payton says above is either b.s. or "so what?" In particular, what the heck does "You can play anything and call it jazz, but you can only do one thing when you’re playing the blues" mean? You can play almost anything and call it (or at least get away with calling it, and certainly sell it as) the blues. As for "You can teach somebody how to play jazz. You can’t teach anybody how to play the blues; you can only give it to them " -- Oy, vey. As for "Ever notice that no one ever speaks of the blues dying," that's in large part because blues bars remain great places for suburban kids of all ages to get drunk.

There ya go. In fact one exasperated musician-grassroots "presenter" (quite successful in both roles) did propose something like this. though he didn't at the time know that $75,000 had been spent on this affair. The people in charge didn't get it/seem to like it. Proposals that were greeted with enthusiasm included creating a "jazz train" (?) and a "jazz district," naming streets after musicians, designating a jazz "czar," and, my favorite, getting celebrities (in particular, I kid you not, Oprah Winfrey) to say that they liked jazz.

Listening yesterday to a Doris Duke Foundation honcho (a tent-preacher popinjay along the lines of an intellectualized Richard Simmons) go on about the state of jazz and outreach and the challenge of technology and building bricks-and-mortar "hubs" and "growing the pie" and learning how to "co-opitate" (I'm not kidding) etc. at the all-day so-called "Chicago Jazz Town Hall" (which I'm told by someone who knows cost $75,000 to put on), it suddenly occurred to me (this fellow having somehow introduced the subject at one point) that the solution to the problem is this slogan/marketing campaign: JAZZ CURES AIDS.

An interesting but strange Wallington appearance as a sideman is on Bobby Jaspar's Riverside album with Idrees Sulieman and Elvin Jones. The rhythmic push-pull between Wallington and Elvin is the strange part.

Great singer, lovely, soulful lady. Met her a couple of times, write liner notes for one of her albums, at her request.

Why would you wonder that about him, in particular? On the other hand (perhaps), Wallington's approach, especially in terms of touch and attack, changed a good deal from his early trio days (brilliant and attractively brittle) to the more rounded, mellow, almost Hank Jones-like approach of '56 and the next few years (perhaps a bit "dumpy" rhythmically, even a tad cocktail-ish at times, if you don't dig that kind of thing), and then, after a long gap (I believe) away from recording, on those late solo albums his approach is very rich and full and two-handed strong -- absolutely gorgeous from a pianistic point of view IIRC.

Hampton Hawes' "Here and Now" (Contemporary), with Chuck Israels and Donald Bailey, from 1965. A somewhat unusual and interesting record -- fairly free-ish (in terms of rhythmic and harmonic looseness) versions of pop-ish material of that general era: "Fly Me to the Moon," "What Kind of Fool Am I?" "The Girl From Ipanema," Mancini's "Dear Heart," "People," "Chim Chim Cher-ee," "Days of Wine and Roses," plus a Hawes original "Rhonda." For some strange reason Hawes' reading of "Dear Heart" kind of obsesses me; at first it sounds like he's just playing the melody (an obsessive one by nature) over and over again, with only the slightest of variations, but that's not quite it -- he's going for something different that I can't really describe, maybe a much more edgy, active version of the same kind of near-hypnotic stasis that Red Garland achieved on "Mr. Wonderful." In part it's like Hawes is trying to emphasize or even isolate the elements of touch and attack, to the exclusion of other factors; and the album is very consistent in approach and mood, along those lines. Does anyone else know and like it?

I stand corrected -- Savoy AND Prestige. The two later solo albums are "Virtuoso" (Interface) from 1984 and "The Symphony of a Jazz Piano" (Denon) from 1986.

Weren't most (all?) of Wallington's vintage trio recordings done for Prestige? The solo albums he did for a Japanese label late in his career are marvelous.

OK, I'm pushing the button.

"Tlon, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius" not only is a great story, but it also predicts and explains the whole Wynton Marsalis/J@LC phenomenon, some 40 years before the fact. See "hronir," in particular.

Report when you can. My finger is poised above the "order" button.

I'm hoping "Silver Bells." His voice was made for that song.

IIRC Tucker was banned for life from RVG's studio for touching a mike or something of the sort. Marvelous player; I have most everything he recorded under his own name, plus a good many sideman dates.

OK, I've probably unfairly deleted several recent posts from this thread that were about politics. But that's how it's going to go. Take it ELSEWHERE. I've got better things to do than moderate a sandbox -- or is it a litterbox?