Larry Kart

I did a longish phone interview with Ahmet when Atlantic came out with its excellent "The Erteguns' New York Cabaret Music" box in 1988, he and Nesuhi having been the producers/instigators for most of those recordings, which had been recorded 30 or more years before the box came out. He was delight to talk to; his enthusiasm for the music was vivid and deep, and while his classiness was quite evident, there was definite foxy strain to him as well.

For the Mahler 4th, I'll go with Horenstein and Klemperer. For Brahms, in a kind of Alpha-Omega parlay, Weingartner and Jochum.

Clem -- Either you have one hell of a record collection (even by the standards of the near life-long addict I am in that sphere), or you have one hell of a memory.

I've read the Tristano book in its original form as a PhD. thesis and also in galleys. It's very good, though a bit on the trees side in the forest/trees equation when it comes to talking about the music. On the other hand, the trees are dealt with welcome precision. Also, there's much interesting material from Tristano students about his teaching methods. The author worked under the great Larry Gushee at the U. of Illinois.

Perhaps because I associate it with a very pleasant young female clerk I met in a shoe store about four years ago at this time of year, I have positive feelings about "Jingle Bell Rock." To explain a bit, as she was totaling up my purchase that song was playing in the store, and she was semi-unconsciously bouncing her head a bit to it in a way that seemed to rhyme with her own genuine amiability and whatever else it was that allowed her to get through the day and the season with soul and body in one piece. Whatever -- it just hit me that way then, and it does every time I hear the song. As for "The Little Drummer Boy" and "Silver Bells," hand me my Uzi and plastique.

But then I don't get a vote.

Best Large Jazz Ensemble Album Up From The Skies — Music Of Jim McNeely The Vanguard Jazz Orchestra [Planet Arts Recordings] The above has my vote; I wrote the liner notes.

Sure could be Little, but at odd moments I was reminded of Ray Copeland.

I heard Tal live in the mid-1980s, and believe it or not he'd gone a fair bit beyond anything I'd ever heard from on record in terms of fluidity/rapidity/subtlety of thought and execution. It was like listening to Tatum -- it felt like the music was close to or beyond my ability to take it in in real time.

I was impressed by this album and also by live performances by Sexton with other players on visits he's made to Chicago: All About Jazz review: Fur Natural History | Skycap Records (2005) By Chris May In which genius guitarist Joe Morris picks up the acoustic bass, forms a trio with two unknown musicians half his age, records just under an hour of totally improvised music... and blows us away with beauty. Pretty much everything about Fur is a surprise. Morris himself, a guitarist born out of the splintered-note, rocket-speed intensity of Coltrane's late period, who took up the acoustic bass seriously only five years ago, stays much closer to the inside tradition here. There are no high velocity splatter gun runs—not a sustainable practicality on the instrument anyway, unless you're an Olympic athlete—but instead a measured delivery and a more leisurely exploration of sound and texture. Then there's the band, featuring two unknowns in their early twenties, of whom at least one—tenor saxophonist Joe Sexton—is surely destined for a big future. Sexton's influences—Rollins, Ware, Shepp, and Sanders—are unmistakable, but so too are the first steps in a personal direction. Staying mainly in the middle and lower registers, and heavy on multiphonics and guttural textures, his sound is soulful and spacious and lyrical, a beguiling of the senses rather than an assault on them. Sexton is on mic almost throughout the album, except for brief bass/drum duets and solos. Drummer Croix Galipault plays a less prominent role—he could actually do with a more forward position in the mix—except for short solos on “Flow Field” and ”Personality Motor.” The former is quietly remarkable: understated, not afraid to employ silence, and very melodic. Watch out for Galipault, too. Morris' presence is strong throughout the album, but it never excludes the other two players. He sets the tempo and structure of each improvisation—each of the five tracks has its own distinctive character (check out the astonishing arco-driven adventure of ”Things Of That Nature” or the almost balladic vibe of “Flow Field”)—and prefers to dialog with saxophone and/or drums, rather than take centre stage. The album is in fact as much Sexton's as it is Morris', and you feel Morris—at 55 a towering and hugely experienced master musician—is always concerned to help the young saxophonist shine. There's a heap of beauty in this trio's music right now, but also the promise of even greater things to come. You probably wouldn't press Morris' guitar trio masterpiece Age Of Everything (Riti, 2002) on someone who thinks jazz innovation stops with Blue Note, but you could present them Fur with the reasonable expectation that they might love it.

A Frenchman, born in 1903, who settled in the U.S. in 1926 and died in 1998, Ericourt was a fabled Debussy interpreter who recorded the complete piano works for the Kapp label in the 1960-62. I'd heard of these recordings but never heard them, then noticed that they were at Berkshire on Ivory Classics: Debussy, The Complete Solo Piano Music. (Daniel Ericourt) Add to cart | Price: $ 19.96 | 4 in set. | Country: AMERICA | D/A code: Analogue | Code: 73006 | BRO Code: 123558 | Label: IVORY CLASSICS So far, they are a revelation. Ericourt tends to be on the dry and clear side, so be forwarned if you like your Debussy cloudy and dreamy, but having said that I'd claim that Ericourt's approach is not a matter of taste (as in, how do you like your Debussy?) but of insight. Seldom have I had the feeling to this degree (Jascha Horenstein would be another case) that music that I thought I knew well was being understood so truly at the level of compositional intent, after which it's more or less a matter of chops, and Ericourt has them. In one sense, this is particularly evident at the level of drama/storytelling, and Debussy has that level -- witness his request to Marguerite Long, when she was working on Jardins sous la pluie (Gardens in the rain) with the composer: "More sun please! It is about children dancing around in the Luxembourg Gardens. The rain stopped. Now there is beautiful sunshine." For example, in Ericourt's reading of Dansueses de Delphe (Dancers of Delphi), from Preludes Book I, the dancers are simply (in fact, not so simply, in terms of execution) right there -- the sense of limbs being extended, feet planted, turns executed, etc. is palpable -- while in Youri Egerov's lovely, hazy, then imperious reading, it's all about graded shadings and textures at the keyboard; the approach is painterly, little or no sense of dance. Similarly, in the first of the Etudes, Pour les 'cinq doights (d'Apres Monsiuer Czerny), a key question is what is the composer's attitude toward the Czerny exercises that are being sent up here. Yes, they're being "sent up," but what happens dramatically in the piece, what are the impulses and reactions and their effects? Not that one needs to be literal, but Ericourt's plot goes something like this -- one's mind and fingers are irritated by the familiar, drudging dogmatic exercises; this translates explosively into rebellious anger, which then energizes/hurls the mind and fingers into triumphant/delirous fantasy. Again, I apologize for the literalness of this; but in Ericourt's hands, the realization of this story in sound clearly IS the germ of the piece (or so I'm convinced), especially when one hears readings, no matter how digitally adept, in which the interpreter's (actually, of course, the composer's) attitude toward the Czerny material is left unformed dramatically or never even comes up. The only drawback to this set is that it's dubbed from LPs -- the original tapes are not and probably never will be available -- but the bits of surface noise I hear are no problem for me. BTW, speaking of Horenstein, Berkshire now has this: Ravel, Piano Concerto {w.Monique Haas}; Bolero. Mahler, Kindertotenlieder {w.Marian Anderson}. Barber, Violin Concerto {w.Lola Bobesco}. Beethoven, Egmont Overture; Symphonies 1, 7, 8, 9 {w.Lorengar, Hoeffgen, Traxel & Wiener}. Roussel, The Spider's Feast. Bartok, Concerto for Orchestra. Sibelius, Symphony #2. Stravinsky, Firebird Suite; Symphony in 3 Movements. Debussy, La Mer. Strauss, Death and Transfiguration; Metamorphosen. Mozart, Don Giovanni Overture. Mendelssohn, Symphony #4. Brahms, Tragic Overture; Symphony #1. Janacek, Sinfonietta. Haydn, Symphony #100. Prokofiev, Symphony #5. (French National Radio Orchestra/ Horenstein. Broadcast performances, 1952-66) Add to cart | Price: $ 26.91 | 9 in set. | Country: AMERICA | D/A code: Mono | Code: CD 1146 | BRO Code: 131978 | Label: MUSIC AND ARTS I've just begun to listen, but what I've heard so far -- The Spider's Feast -- was remarkable.

Again, sorry if this has been posted before, but here's a very in-form Lester Young from 1950 with Bill Harris, Ray Brown, Buddy Rich, and a pianist who looks very familiar but whose name escapes me. The young Hank Jones? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bhql0clzqEM

Sorry if I'm duplicating, but check this out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kBNzbQIA5HA Buck Clayton, Vic Dickenson, Paul Quinichette, Billy Taylor, and Mundell Lowe playing the living snot out of "Billie's Bounce" from maybe 1956. Anyone know who the drummer and bassist are? I love the way the horns play the head.

If we're lucky, Chuck eventually will be able to reissue the four-alto, 17-plus-minutes version of Roscoe Mitchell's "Nonaah" -- rec. 1/22/77 with Roscoe, Joseph Jarman, Henry Threadgill, and Wallace McMillan and originally issued on a 2-LP Nessa set of the same name, along with an explosive solo concert version of "Nonaah" and other pieces with Mitchell solo and joined by others (Braxton, Muhal Richard Abrams, George Lewis, Malachi Favors). The quartet "Nonaah" is a masterwork.

It isn't Beethoven, but in line with "the piano! piano! piano!" I'd suggest checking out this treat from Berkshire: Albeniz, Iberia; Espana; Recuerdos de viaje; Piano Sonata #5; Suite Espanola; Pavana-Capricho; Tango in a; Torre Bermeja; La Vega. (Esteban Sanchez, piano. Total time: 219'27') Add to cart | Price: $ 8.97 | 3 in set. | Country: DUTCH | D/A code: Analogue | Code: CD 92398 | BRO Code: 126059 | Label: BRILLIANT CLASSICS The price is right, and Sanchez is magically "colorful, intense, and poetic." Worth getting even if you have De Larrocha. No hillbilly yelps, though.

Having finally taken a look at the tape (didn't have the stomach for it before), I can see where Richards in the heat of the moment might have thought he was channeling one aspect of Lenny Bruce -- but not even close, not even close. Again, in addition to the evidence that Richards has a history of being much too tightly wound for his own good, his insistence that this was in any way a justified retaliation for being "interrupted" while doing his act is nonsense. There are three ways, at least, for a comedian to deal with such situations, which arise fairly often 1) You deliver one of many time-tested and in some cases fairly amusing put-downs and win the crowd over to your side 2) If things are really getting out of hand, you signal management to handle/defuse the situation and then resume where you left off 3) You construct some sort of semi-spontaneous bit that takes what's going on and explores it's "reality" in a way that's at once truthful, disturbing, and (you hope eventually) amusing -- this being the Lenny Bruce option. Seems like Richards thought he was going in that last direction, perhaps thinking of Bruce's old "How to relax your colored friends at parties" bit (which ain't that good anyhow, not by Bruce's standards), but first, he's no Lenny, and second, he seems to have been so primally enraged that his sheer hostility is what came through.

Youtube "Andy Kaufman Fidays" search... And it appears they had him back on the show another time!! (???!!!) Yes, for a deliberately (on Andy's part, for sure) queasy "apology" in which IIRC he gave the impression (again deliberately) that he was on the brink of tears, even an actual nervous breakdown. Without doubt the "Fridays" staff was essentially on board with all this too; after all, by this time who in those circles didn't know what kind of performer Andy was, although they might not have known (any more than Andy himself?) just how far he was willing and able to push things. I interviewed him at some length several times back then and wrote two good-sized pieces about him for the Chicago Tribune. I particularly like the second one, in which I compared Andy to Kafka's "The Hunger Artist" -- a damn close fit in my view, as long as you leave room for Howdy Doody to invade Kafka's landscape.

FWIW, in today's Chicago Sun-Times: "Comedian George Lopez told television station KTLA that he thought Richards' lack of stand-up experience may have been a factor. "The question is you have an actor who is trying to be a comedian who doesn't know what to do when an audience is disruptive," he said." Also in the Sun-Times, though I don't have the paper in front of me and that part of the story is not on-line as far as I can tell, Tom Dreesen, who was present at Richards' performance, said it was the worst such melt-down he's ever seen and attributed it in part to Richards' lack of standup experience and his resulting inability to deal with hecklers.

OK -- guess that why AFAIK means "as far as I know." Sorry if my speculations misled anyone. BTW, IIRC the Kaufman "fight" episode on "Fridays" (or "Friday") was between Andy and the show's director, former comic Jack Burns (of Burns and Schreiber). The deal was that only those two, plus perhaps a camera man or two, were in on what Andy was going to do -- break character, say that he couldn't keep spouting this lame schtick any more, and then stalk off the set, where he would be confronted by Burns, and a very realistic mock struggle would ensue. None of the cast members in the sketch was informed of what was up, and their consternation was something to see. Again IIRC Melanie Chartoff looked like she might faint.

Perhaps the gist of this -- at least in terms of how and why it happened -- is that AFAIK Michael Richards is not really a standup comic but a sketch comic and thus probably has little or no experience of how to deal with hecklers. That plus the knowledge that his career was already on a steep downslope would do it. Of course, that doesn't explain why he went where he did when he lost it, but that's probably because he's both an ---hole and bat----. In any case, dealing with hecklers -- how to control your own emotions and how to dish out reasonably effective comebacks -- is the FIRST thing any standup learns how to do.

A veteran jazz critic who shall be nameless told me that each time he's gone for a colonoscopy he's checked in at the front desk of the gastro unit with the words, "I'm here to get high."

Reminds me some of Tom Brady. A good deal of potential, I'd say, and obviously lots of poise already. Hard to see why he wasn't drafted.

To correct my own misinformation -- Sonny Cohn's lovely feature on that Basie Jazz Icons CD is "Stella By Starlight." The soloist on "You Are Too Beautiful" is tenorman Eric Dixon.

DB reviewers, at any point in that mag's life span, were a very mixed bag -- some trustworthy and at best quite insightful, others close to or utterly worthless. Do you know the name of the reviewer in this case (or perhaps this was when they went by initials only, e.g. D.C. for Dom Cerulli, M.W. for Martin Williams)? As a faithful reader of DB in that era, I could give you a pocket estimate of that reviewer's competence and prejudices.

Yes, but at that time wasn't it a good deal rarer to find those "saxophonistic ways of altering pitch & timbre through fingerings" being done on alto than on tenor? Also, I definitely feel that while sometimes Jenkins begins to side-slip in the soon to be more familiar, and more explicit/codified, manner of Strozier and Henderson, for the most part he leaves such impulses at the level of directional gestures (via shifts in pitch and timbre) "within the note." As for "instinct" vs. "planned out," one of the reasons I think of Jenkins as an instinctual player was that he seems so raw, perhaps tempermentally so. That is, I get the feeling that often he wasn't quite on top of the stuff he wanted to be on top of but instead was half-stumbling through it, though in doing so he ended up in some interesting places. That's one of the reasons "Alto Madness" intrigues me -- by contrast, Jackie sounds much more polished/finished than Jenkins does, and who would ever think of circa 1957 Jackie in those terms? On the other hand, as I said here and somewhere above, Jenkins' rawness/awkwardness/whatever at times leads him to places that in effect find Jackie saying, "Damn! I'll have that too."