blue lake

How do you know this is for Britney?

Chuck, I understand about Elvin and Sonny at the Vanguard, but what about the second time around, with East Broadway Rundown, especially "Blessing In Disguise"?

Actually, maybe John Litweiler could post the liner notes here -- they're, as Von might say, marvelous.

:rsly:

Allaboutjazz.com CD Reviews The Great Divide Von Freeman | Premonition It is a little bit crazy to consider octogenarian tenor saxophonist Von Freeman paying tribute to anyone considering that he has outlived the vast majority of his peers. Still, Mr. Freeman chooses to step out and tip his hat to three horns that changed everything—Coleman Hawkins, Lester Young, and Charlie Parker. Freeman reasons that this present disc is entitled The Great Divide to illustrate the disparate aspects of these three men joined together by jazz. Coleman Hawkins was all about muscular eloquence, virile, masculine expression. Lester Young was the equivalent of an operatic lyric tenor, who very easily could be called the godfather (if not the father) of “Cool” Jazz. Charlie Parker? Well, after Charlie Parker, nothing was ever the same. The disc begins with a bit of banter before Freeman, in his irreplaceable style, spins out eight minutes of the infrequently covered “Be My Love.” Here, Freeman displays what makes his sound unique among the “giants” he proposes to honor. His tenor sound is deep, reedy and full of breath with a barely detectable vibrato. This tosses the saxophonist smack dab in the middle between Bean and Lady Day’s President. It is here and on the solo saxophone closer, “Violets for Your Furs,” that Von Freeman shows who he is—a tenor saxophonist of Beethovenian proportions, having seen all and played all, from Frankie Trumbauer and Greg Osby. The centers of the recording are the blues pieces “Blue Pres” and “Disorder at the Border.” Mr. Freeman takes on the ghosts of Pres and Bean directly, without ever losing himself in either artist’s style. “Blue Pres” sounds like the best after hours blues anyone could hope for and has probably been in Freeman’s book from the beginning. Freeman’s own “Never Fear, Jazz is Here” and “This is Always” look forward and backward from Charlie Parker. The one ghost that is not mentioned is that of John Coltrane, who emanates from Freeman’s sax bell on “Chant Time” like “…pious incense from a censer old.” This recording is all that any mainstream jazz fan could hope for. Von Freeman is that quiet elder statesman whose fame fortunately manifest while it is not too late for the great saxophonist to enjoy it. A disc for the year-end list, for sure. ~ C. Michael Bailey

Jazzweekly.com CD Review VON FREEMAN The Great Divide Premonition Records Throughout his career, tenor saxophonist Von Freeman has found little reason to venture outside his hometown of Chicago, possibly explaining his lack of wider recognition. Now in his 80's, known to some as Chico Freeman's father, Von Freeman remains a unique figure in jazz, doing his bop meets free-jazz thing. His latest release, The Great Divide, comes on Premonition Records (based in Chicago) and includes the nurturing support of Richard Wyands on piano, John Webber on bass and Jimmy Cobb on drums. Much like his previous release, The Improvisor, Von Freeman's music is a tuxedo worn with sneakers. He's formal, fun, young, and cool. Dancing at various tempos, The Great Divide moves between the delicately paced statements of "Be My Love," "This Is Always," and "Blue Pres," to the more frenetic steps of "Never Fear Jazz Is Here," "Disorder at the Border," and "Hard Hittin'." Such wide motions are always balanced atop skill and genuine enthusiasm, with Freeman's assured delivery leading this spirited charge. His characteristic tone adventures are less prominent on The Great Divide than on some of his other records, though, the timing of these eccentric moments seems better than ever. Using them with judicious taste, Freeman can, as on "This Is Always," and "Violets For Your Furs," present moments of tension and release that speak more of experience and wisdom than they do of the tune's melody. These occasions offer long-time fans and newcomers alike the opportunity to experience a unique act in jazz. -Germaine Linaires

THE SARATOGIAN July 4, 2004 Entertainment Section Ageless Jazz Greats Rekindle Music As It Should Be Heard By James Lamperetta With each year that passes, we are left with fewer direct connections to the heyday of modern jazz which spanned the 1940s through the '60s, thus it was quite a treat last weekend when music lovers at the Freihofer's Jazz Festival were treated to an opportunity to savor the wonder and wisdom of the great 84-year-old pianist Hank Jones as he performed as part of saxophonist Joe Lovano's quartet. Tenor saxophonist Von Freeman is another octogenarian who continues to dazzle and delight audiences with a style that embodies and embraces jazz's past, present and future. On his most recent release, 'The Great Divide,' on Premonition Records, Freeman offers up a set that is 'no frills' but 'all thrills' as he leads his quartet through tunes that pay homage to three other saxophone legends, all of whom he had the chance to play with -- Coleman Hawkins, Lester Young and Charlie Parker. Opening with a quick snippet of studio patter that finds the saxophonist asking, 'You ready?' the stage is set for a sweet stroll through the gentle swing of 'Be My Love.' Caressing the melody before sauntering into his solo, Freeman not only evokes the romanticism of Hawkins and Young, but also spotlights how a true master can speak volumes with an exquisite combination of grace and the most carefully chosen notes. Backed by a supremely sensitive rhythm section of pianist Richard Wyands, bassist John Webber and drummer Jimmy Cobb (another of the genre's exalted elder statesmen who performed last night with his group Cobb's Mobb at the Skidmore College Jazz Institute), Freeman easily, and convincingly, conjures up an aura of delicious understatement. Whether it is the longing of 'This Is Always' or the after-hours feel of 'Blue Pres,' where he is at his breathy best on the melody and spot on during his solo, Freeman showcases his signature sound and an approach that is informed from decades of both playing and listening. Whereas one might expect that his chops would have been diminished by the years, on 'Never Fear Jazz Is Here,' a bristling bebop excursion based on the changes to 'I've Got Rhythm' which serves as a nod of the cap to Parker, Freeman sounds emboldened and empowered, displaying the vim and vigor of a young lion half his age. Lest there be any doubt that you have been experiencing the real deal, Freeman closes the disc in grand fashion with an acapella reading of 'Violets for Your Furs.' Taking full advantage of the free reign to roam that the absence of a group affords a master (lesser players may hide behind or lurk within the band), Freeman puts an exclamation point on the end of a listen that you will find yourself reaching for again and again. James Lamperetta is a jazz enthusiast who lives in Saratoga Springs. His column is published on the first Sunday of the month.

Washington Post Sunday, July 4, 2004 Page N08 Von Freeman's Way: 'Divide' And Conquer By Steve Futterman In taking full measure of Von Freeman's substantial gifts as a jazz saxophonist, it's best to get the age issue out of the way as soon as possible. Freeman is 81. Approach his latest album, "The Great Divide," with that in mind, and his gifts as a vital, uncategorizable stylist loom even larger. Yet Freeman's triumphant art far transcends a case of body and spirit defying time. This Chicago tenor legend may indeed perform with the vigor of a man half his age, but it's the imaginative content of what he plays -- and how he plays it -- that sets him apart. In Freeman we hear an uncanny mixture of authentic swing and bop influences transformed through a highly unconventional approach to phrasing, tone and pitch that links him to jazz's avant-garde. His work feels timeless, a conjoining of disparate styles and sugar-and-salt sounds that could only be connected by an original mind. Freeman may be a national jazz treasure, but outside of his hometown he is little known. It's a different story in the Windy City, where a street bears his name and Northwestern University granted him an honorary degree, and where he has led a now-legendary weekly jam session at a club for more than 30 years. Chicago's affection for Freeman may have a lot to do with his loyalty to the place. Over the years he has played alongside a slew of Second City talents who, having honed their craft, then packed up to make their reputation in New York. Freeman stayed put. His family was there, including his son Chico, an esteemed saxophonist himself. And there was no shortage of greats passing through; as a younger man Freeman jammed with Lester Young, Coleman Hawkins, Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. His Chicago musical cohorts included Sun Ra, Andrew Hill and Ahmad Jamal. In truth, though, Freeman has always been such an idiosyncratic player that popular recognition might have eluded him anywhere. He never lets you get too comfortable with his playing; no matter how swinging or sensuous a mood he may set, Freeman will then dive into a tonally ambiguous, improbably phrased passage that's as unexpected as it's delightfully expressive. This isn't, and thankfully will never be, made-for-prime-time tenor. "The Great Divide," which is to be released July 13, reunites Freeman with an early associate, drummer Jimmy Cobb, the last surviving member of the Miles Davis band that recorded 1959's "Kind of Blue." Cobb brings along two members of the Cobb's Mob quartet, pianist Richard Wyands and bassist John Webber, and their spirited ease fits the saxophonist perfectly. The album brilliantly illustrates Freeman's flair for mid- and up-tempo swing ("Be My Love," "Disorder at the Border," "Hard Hittin' "), blues meditations ("Blue Pres"), luscious ballads ("This Is Always") and even a one-chord, free-tempo improvisation that hints at Coltrane-era openness ("Chant Time"). The album concludes with a seven-minute, unaccompanied saxophone reading of the now little-played standard "Violets for Your Furs," a tour de force of instrumental control and openhearted emotion. In his golden years, Freeman brings together a bullfighter's daring with the maturity of a wise, and soulful, older man. © 2004 The Washington Post Company

It would be cool if there were some kind of mp3 compatibility, though, so folks could send along snippets of music they'd like everyone to hear. (Just a thought).

Who ya! That's what the world needs now: more Ornette!

Andrew McKinnon posted this on rec.music.bluenote March 18, 2000 and the print out has been on my office wall ever since. Steve Lacy, when asked by Derek Bailey to describe in 15 seconds the difference between composition and improvisation: "In fifteen seconds the difference between composition and improvisation is that in composition you have all the time you want to decide what to say in fifteen seconds, while in improvisation you have fifteen seconds." Of course this description came in at exactly 15 seconds long.

Chuck, I'm not hip -- who are those first two guys?

Finally opened up Monk at Town Hall only to realize Lacy isn't there; he shows up in the Monk Big Band at Lincoln Center in 1963. Has anyone heard the Monk Quartet of 1960 with Lacy in Monk's band? Also, do any of you remember the Chicago Jazz Festival concert in the 1980's (?) when a Monk re-union Big Band played Hall Overton and Oliver Nelson's arrangements of Monk's music from the Lincoln Center AND Town Hall concerts? The buzz at the time, if I'm remembering clearly, was that Lacy didn't solo on the 1963 concert -- the recording features Thad Jones, Phil Woods, Charlie Rouse, Monk and Frankie Dunlap in solo roles. Yet, Lacy's voice in the heads and occasional soloist-prompting ensemble riffs is clear and distinctly blended giving the music added character. He's up on Monk's phrasing, accent, swing, line. I can't remember if he told me or if I heard the subject of him not soloing in 63 discussed on WBEZ (?) but I think he said he was glad he didn't because of nerves next to Rouse, Woods and Jones in that context. In any case, the Chicago re-union bore a sense of righteousness for giving Lacy a chance to be heard soloing in those charts. If anyone cares to set that straight, by all means.

Carlos Santana: 'Elvin is the beat of life itself' "In fact, when I die, if I don't hear 'A Love Supreme,' I'll turn back; I'll know I'm in the wrong place." http://www.signonsandiego.com/news/feature...-1a30varga.html Carlos Santana: 'Elvin is the beat of life itself' By George Varga UNION-TRIBUNE POP MUSIC CRITIC May 30, 2004 A hippie at heart, Carlos Santana has long championed music as a potent force for creating positive vibrations that - as this veteran of the 1969 Woodstock festival puts it - "can change your molecular structure." But the legendary rocker sounded uncharacteristically angry during a discussion about the recent death of one of his musical heroes, jazz drum icon Elvin Jones, who died May 18 of heart failure. Santana, who will be honored in Los Angeles as the 2004 Latin Recording Academy Person of the Year on Aug. 30, is incensed that Jones' death elicited scant media coverage. He expressed his frustration during a recent interview from his San Rafael office. "I'm really embarrassed for this nation, and for MTV and VH1 and Rolling Stone, because it was a very racist thing not to acknowledge this most important musician when he passed," said Santana, whose 1999 album, "Supernatural," won nine Grammys and has sold more than 25 million copies. "For them to (play up) Ozzy Osbourne and other corny-ass white people, but not Elvin, is demeaning and I'm really embarrassed to live in this country." The mustachioed guitarist and bandleader first heard Jones in 1965 on the John Coltrane Quartet's epic album "A Love Supreme," about a year after the teenaged Santana moved to San Francisco from Tijuana and became an American citizen. He was immediately struck by the force of the quartet's music and the impact of Jones' polyrhythmic drumming. "When that intro comes in on 'A Love Supreme' it's like the gates of heaven opening," Santana, 56, said. "In fact, when I die, if I don't hear 'A Love Supreme,' I'll turn back; I'll know I'm in the wrong place. For me, Elvin was Número Uno, forever, for all ages, for all existence. I miss him terribly; I've been playing his music nonstop since he died, especially 'Agenda' (from Jones' 1969 'Poly-Currents') with Joe Farrell (on sax). He was a supreme drummer who was doing things that were totally different than anyone else. "When I hear Elvin's music I hear the pyramids, I hear African and pre-Columbian music, and I hear the future. Elvin is the beat of life itself, and his music transcends 'clever' or 'cute' or any superlatives. When he and Coltrane played, and everyone else in the quartet dropped out, that's what Jimi Hendrix would play if he was still alive. That's what John McLaughlin wants to play, and he's alive, because there is nothing more pure or vibrant than Coltrane and Elvin." It is because he holds Jones in such high esteem that Santana was angry at the absence of media tributes to the masterful drummer, who was 76 when he died and kept performing until just weeks before his death. The reason for the slight, Santana believes, is a matter of racial and cultural prejudice. "When Miles (Davis) died (in 1991), for four hours in France they stopped everything on TV and radio - all the regular programming - and just showed Miles for four hours, all through France," Santana recalled. "Here in the U.S., it's embarrassing (how jazz is treated). People should be ashamed of themselves." MTV and VH1 are virtually jazz-free, and the music has historically been held in much higher esteem abroad than here, in its homeland. But Santana believes exceptions should be made for musicians as notable as Jones, who Pearl Jam drummer Matt Cameron hailed as "a major force to be reckoned with" who could "wow the pants off a jazz fan or non-jazz fan" alike. "If I would've been running MTV, I would've stopped all the corny stuff they show and shown one of Elvin's (drum) solos. Because he represents the highest level of creativity, like Duke Ellington," Santana said. "America is such an ignorant country. I understand that I'm hard on America, but if you look at all the (alarming) things on CNN, (you'll see) we need to grow up quickly. We need to crystallize our existence because we place economic values over spiritual ones. "I'm hurt. And if I was a little hard or cruel with MTV and VH1, they deserve it. They need to stop showing what they are showing, and show real musicians. Why do they keep showing such stupidity? MTV needs to reassess its priorities."

In May of 1999 Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp sent a professional jazz quartet to tour small towns and villages of Southern France. This was in part a goodwill gesture, and in part an advertising tour to open up these communities to the idea behind Blue Lake International Exchange program, where high school age musicians in symphony orchestras, symphonic bands, jazz big bands and choirs tour through these towns and stay in people’s homes. The idea caught on in France and the International program is doing very well despite the current political climate. The Blue Lake International Jazz Quartet in 1999 featured Ann Arbor bassist Paul Keller, who’s toured with Diana Krall, Cincinnati-based pianist Phil DeGregg, plus one of West Michigan’s finest drummers (next to Organissimo’s Randy Marsh!) and educators Tim Froncek as well as a Hank Mobley influenced tenor player named Tom Stansell. Lesley and I were invited along -- I recorded the concerts – and it was just incredible. In any case, one of the stops was Limoux. At about noon we went to the local d’ecole of music, a diamond shaped music room filled with Orf instruments, and including a large space off to the side. Shortly after everyone was there, someone starts passing little plates of potato chips and nuts, along with glasses of this incredible dry white sparkling wine. Nice. Noon. Well, the conversation kept on and so did this incredible wine, which we were all informed was the pride of the region, the Blanquette de Limoux, the oldest dry wine in the world. Pretty soon the congenial party of at least 15 people or so meandered over to a long table, and this cliché of a French looking cook, you know, big arms, round belly, dirty apron, comes waddling out of the kitchen with this vat of cassolette. The party was on! Everyone was eating, drinking, talking through translators. The musicians were at the other end of the table, and the Americans were being drilled about which French jazz musicians they knew. Being the troupe’s resident nerd, of course, the Americans turned to me for a save, and after a nervous hesitation, being put on the spot while the wine worked around my memory, I just blurted out “Guy Lafitte.” The place erupted! "Guy!!!" “He’s from here!” “He was my teacher!” “He was my mentor!” Oh! C’est bon! Just pulled it out of my ass. Was thinking about “Passin’ Time” and “To A Mornin’ Sunrise” on Swing, the sides with Lucky Thompson and Guy Lafitte. Lafitte had recently passed away, so knowing that he was remembered meant a lot to our hosts. It was a happy, bittersweet moment for them. But the concert that night was one of the best of the tour, especially when the head of the local big band, a tenor player named Guy Robert sat in with the quartet on “Tenor Madness,” “When Sunny Gets Blue” and “There Will Never Be Another You.” So, that’s my “real life” Guy Lafitte story. If you’ve never tried the Blanquette de Limoux, well, that might explain some of Lafitte’s sound!

GRAND RAPIDS – THE LEE KONITZ TRIO, MOTHER’S DAY, MAY 9TH 1999 AT 4 P.M. IN THE 165 SEAT URBAN INSTITUTE FOR CONTEMPORARY ARTS THEATER, 41 SHELDON BLVD. NE, GRAND RAPIDS, MI. THE ALTO SAXOPHONE MASTER WITH BASSIST JEFF HALSEY OF BOWLING GREEN UNIVERSITY AND DRUMMER PETE SIERS OF ANN ARBOR. TICKETS ARE $15 AND AVAILABLE BY CHARGE FROM THE UICA AT 616.454.7000. April 19, 1999 Blue Lake Public Radio’s jazz director Lazaro Vega called up Lee Konitz at his New York apartment. Lee Konitz answers the phone, “Yeah hi.” Lazaro Vega: I was just going over some of the records by you I’ve gotten here at the radio station in the last year or so. There’s the “Strings for Holiday,” the record with the Netherlands Metropole Orchestra, “Saxophone Dreams,” various things on Evidence music, a trio record on Steeplechase, “It’s You.” I’m looking at all this stuff and I’m wondering, what kind of process do you go through to choose what you’re going to pick out to play? Because you’re on so many diverse things, I was wondering how you choose that? Lee Konitz: Yes, I’ve been trying to figure that out myself lately. Pretty much I’ve thought of myself as a sideman and when I’m invited into a situation I, usually, eagerly jump in and hope that I can make some music with some different people. And frequently it works; sometimes it doesn’t. But that’s kind of the attitude I go into it with. Vega: So how does it come about? Konitz: Well, I get invited to do various projects and I have a choice to accept or not. If someone invites me I immediately say yes if I’m interested and kind of positive about being invited in the first place. I play with local musicians all over Europe and that means for me being able to work frequently and not having to charge big prices for a band. The way you learn how to play, I figure, is by playing. So, I just welcome all these different situations. Having a band is still something that I would like to do, but in addition to these other kinds of projects. Incidentally, I really appreciate you starting with the contemporary records. Very frequently in these sessions we talk about the beginnings and sometimes I don’t feel like going back there too quick. Vega: O.k. Another group that I know you’ve been involved with in the last couple of years that a friend of mine just saw at Ronnie Scott’s is the Kenny Wheeler Quartet with Dave Holland, Bill Frisell, Kenny and yourself. That’s another freelance situation, isn’t it? Konitz: Well that’s a result of the record. Do you have that record? Vega: Oh, “Angel Song,” absolutely. Konitz: Actually, we didn’t play at Ronnie Scott’s, but we played in England in January. We did a six-concert tour. Actually Bill Frisell was unable to make it, so John Abercrombie made that one. Bill is so busy that it’s been difficult. We’ve done about two concerts since we’ve made the record with Bill. Vega: Isn’t that a little bit different? When you think about “Strings for Holiday” or the Metropole Orchestra record, or the trio record on Steeplechase, you’re dealing pretty much with song forms and improvising on changes. Now with Kenny’s music it seemed to be a little different atmosphere. I was wondering if you could comment on that a little bit as a challenge musically. Konitz: First of all I traveled from Tel Aviv the day before the date, 11 hours, and went immediately to a rehearsal with the group. We were all eager. Because I love Kenny’s music, which are great melodies on changes, basically. The one difference, probably, is that there was no drummer. But anyway, on the morning of the next day we didn’t play any of the tunes that we rehearsed. It was a long session and I really felt the jet lag. But the music was so compelling that I was more than delighted it turned out as well as it did. That’s just another kind of chamber-like group with more of an emphasis on the composition than the arrangement, just playing a tune and playing solos. And they’re just such great players that it was really a pleasure. Vega: Dave Holland just came through with his sextet two weekends ago. Konitz: And he tore the house down, right? Vega: Sure did. Konitz: My wife and I went to the Knitting Factory the other night and listened to a great violin player, Mark Feldman, and he plays with a very fine free Japanese lady, Yuko Fujiyama. We really enjoyed their music, and then went upstairs to the next room for Dave’s set. They hit so hard after this very gentle music that we had just listened to that we listened to one tune and admired what they did and left. It was just, whew, God it was like an avalanche or something. Vega: When they were in Grand Rapids they stayed for two days doing a public concert and then a private home concert with catering and all that in a living room. Konitz: Well, my God. Vega: I liked the concert better because they were a little bit in better eye contact with each other and they could get louder. The dynamic level is so extreme…. Konitz: I really have to have the energy. I mean, I’ve never had the energy to play that intensively, but you have to have it to listen, too. But Dave is a very dynamic guy. Vega: Right. He’s a hell of a bass player. Konitz: Yes he is. Vega: There’s a record you did probably about ten years ago for Soul Note called “Ideal Scene.” Konitz: I think---yeah, right. Vega: In that I remember you talked about there you are touring with your own band and it was an “Ideal Scene” because you could play whatever music (Italics on ‘you’) you wanted to play. Do you have a quartet like that still? Konitz: I just played three days here at Birdland, Thursday, Friday and Saturday of last week, with a quartet that I might stay with; playing a lot of the Tristano inspired materials. With a tenor player named Ted Brown that has been off the scene for many years raising a family. Now he’s kind of interested in going out and playing and he plays quite beautifully. Vega: I remember his records that he made, a friend played them for me: there’s an Art Pepper record and Ted Brown record back in the ‘50’s. Konitz: Yes, you’ve got it. Great. Vega: He might have made one or two for Criss Cross. Konitz: He did. Vega: I have that. Konitz: That’s great. Vega: I love all of that stuff. I wasn’t going to bring up Lennie Tristano. I thought you’d probably had enough discussion about him in your career, but... Konitz: Oh no, he’s too important in my career to have enough discussion. Vega: Oh, o.k. All right. So, who else is in this band that you’re thinking about staying with? Konitz: John McClure and Jeff Williams. Vega: And Jeff’s the drummer? Konitz: Yes. Vega: I’m not familiar with him. But you’ve worked before with Ron McClure. Konitz: Yeah, some. Isn’t he on the trio record, Steeplechase, with Billy Hart? Vega: That’s right. Konitz: We’re recording on, phew: I’m recording this Thursday and Friday with John Abercrombie, Joey Baron and Mark Johnson. John is playing about three tunes and Ted Brown is playing a couple. Then, the following week I’m recording with this quartet I just mentioned with Ted Brown and Ron and Jeff. Plus, Steeplechase wants me to record. We’re calling it ‘the old guys session.’ Then they want me to do a session with the young guys. So he’s choosing a rhythm section of young lions. Then I’m a guest on another guy’s record later that day. Those two days will be two and half sessions. And I said, ‘What am I doing?’ You know? And I answered, ‘I’m being a sideman basically, and playing. I’m not even getting paid for it.’ So, that’s kind of what my life is these days. Vega: I noticed when you said earlier that you were a sideman you added if you want to learn the music, play it. And here you are really at the level of your career where you’re a recognized, bonafied master musician to people who have followed jazz for a long time. It’s really interesting to hear you say that basically you’re still going about the process of learning to play. Konitz: I think all of us, however we’re regarded from the outside, have our own set of standards that we’re trying to live up to. Playing this music is very challenging and takes a lot of study and practice. So that’s what I’m doing. I enjoy doing that everyday. I’ve never been like an 8 hour a day practicer. So I attribute what I do to playing everyday. Vega: Um hum, yeah. You bet. Speaking of the Tristano book, I noticed that you and Gary Foster did an album in Japan of music that Warne Marsh had written. Konitz: That he had improvised. Vega: Oh, I see, that’s how you did that. Konitz: Yeah. Vega: Oh, I get it. I was going to ask you about that. So those were his improvisations. Konitz: (Sighs) I hope that was stated in the notes. Vega: They’re all in Japanese. Konitz: (Laughs) Ha ha ha. Can’t read Japanese, wow. Vega: No, I’m sorry, I can’t. Konitz: Well, (chuckles) that was the idea: we both loved Warne and that was our way of paying tribute to him. The only problem is, before we went to Japan we played in a club in Los Angeles with a rhythm section that had played with Warne, and that was really working. Then we got to Japan and I don’t know if any of these guys ever heard of Warne. So that didn’t quite work out right. But I still enjoy the record. Vega: Well you and Gary seem to have a nice rapport. Konitz: Yeah. Vega: Would you say you could count him as one of your disciples? Konitz: I think so. Yeah. Vega: I wasn’t going to ask you this but you said its o.k. to talk about Lennie Tristano. I’m wondering in terms of musical principles Lennie brought to you back in the ‘40’s, of those musical principles that you absorbed and refined in that period of time, what are you still working with today? What are qualities from that education that stay with you now? Konitz: Well basically trying to be as spontaneous as possible. Which means I have to have that kind of confidence in that possibility. It’s rather daunting to think about it sometimes: going out and starting from the first note is a little scary. And maybe even naive. But that seems to be what my temperament dictates for me. That’s one of the main things that I learned from Lennie. And then trying to pairdown, you know like get rid of excess materials and things. I’ve gone through these different kinds of processes finding what I think is my essential music. ‘Forever grateful for the insight that he gave me. Vega: When you come to Grand Rapids you’ll be working in that trio setting of just saxophone, bass and drums. Konitz: I like that. I get to play more that way. I’m usually pretty respectful of everybody else’s chance to play and so I stand around listening to everybody play quite a bit of the time. I’d rather really be playing myself. Vega: What is it about that setting? You did it with Elvin Jones and Sonny Dallas and then with Ron McLure and Billy Hart, and are there any other ones out there? Konitz: Well, not too many, actually. I don’t know if there is one like that. Vega: But it gives you the freedom to just blow. Konitz: Yeah that’s it. I find it difficult to play a little while and then listen to everybody else play, and then get back into where I left off. This way I keep doing it. So, I’m looking forward to that. ... Konitz: O.k. great. I appreciate your interest and your questions were real and I don’t mind that at all. Vega: Well, thank you.

I bought a copy of the Boplicity CD through Stereo Jacks in Cambridge. It was a while ago, but they actually had a few in stock.

I have a long version of "The Grabtown Grapple" from that band, with Hank Jones and Farlow, etc. on a Verve lp "I Can't Get Started." Is that on this second volume on Musicmasters? And where can you find this double Cd? Any sources you might recommend? Thanks in advance.

Well, this is a great thread because it's made me listen to Tim Armocost and Kalaparush. Larry, I did pull out the Tim Armocost "Live at Smalls" and he plays tenor on "Invisible" (which is credited on the recording to Armocost! (sic) and not Ornette) and soprano on "Hank's Other Bag." That aside, I hear your larger point: now that is swing, he swings within the framework and it's greazin' without flexin'. Around the end of March, first of April I had the chance to hear Ornette live in Ann Arbor, Tony Malaby/Angelica Sanchez/ Tom Rainey live in at the station here (right after their two hits in Chicago -- Nessa was at the station, too), and Kalaparush and the Light at a coffee shop in Grand Rapids. And within that compressed time frame it became clear that the music isn't dead, it's just flying below the radar of style. Style has become the hallmark of corporate sponsored jazz presentation, while the music un-encumbered by such a restriction is going on it's own happy way. The case of Kalaparush, on the subway, literally underground. But what a musician. While Sam River's fans will marvel at his multi-instrumental trio and it's astonishing technical virtuosity and power, Kalaparush has taken another direction that is just incredibly musical, melodic -- I wouldn't call it "warm" in terms of tone, but in terms of spirit. And one might not describe it as powerful in terms of athleticism, but it is powerful in musical sophistication. As Nessa says, shading. The way he shades and nuances those beautiful lines. Damn! KALAPARUSH! Up until hearing him live, he was a mystery to me -- even after having heard "Sound" many times, and "Humility In Light of Creator," too. His is just not the kind of playing that jumps out at you, it is the kind that draws you into a realm that late 'Trane and Ayler may have understood, but sounds nothing like them. That is creativity. That is taking a previous individual's music and not just fucking around with it as some "style," but working it from the viewpoint of ideas with what George Lewis calls "radical individualism." Yet, there was more than Kalaparush as "soloist." His whole band and their approach was an extension of his musical values, and it was beautiful. Jesse Dulman on tuba really gets around on his horn, and Ravish Momin flows through several different grooves, often setting the pace with his youthful drive. Malaby with his wife and Raney, that collective trio, was wonderfully organic in their improvised structures. I remember you've made observations regarding his playing from harmonic node to harmonic node without creating what you might consider a real melody (that sort of comment sticks), yet in terms of working intervals he is becoming a force to be reckoned with. There are several recent recordings featuring his playing where he adds considerably to the dialogue. The fact that he's doing it more challenging forms than Scott Hamilton gives him a leg up in my book. I mean, stick Scott Hamilton in the Fletcher Henderson band in the 30's and he's lost. What is he going to base his playing on? Stick Kalaparush or Malaby in the context of now, and they are sayin' something. My feelings for the music of Ornette, well, even Lincoln Center has caught up to OC. Standards are cool and all, but there is music of this moment, it just isn't commercially viable, and that seems to be the only thing that matters to a huge portion of the audience any more. Does it sell? "Well, I really only like to look at Picasso's Blue Period. The rest, well, you know: why?" Absurd, yet similar ideas great some of the most creative music of the last 50 years. Trane's career should throw a monkey wrench in the predominance of style because style does not explain his music after 1965, only ideas do. It's just a lot more work. Carry the load, carry the load, and carry the load until you die.... yet jazz's radical individuals are a load worth carrying.

That was a very good post. Reconsidering the notions of Sun Ra and classical music after having heard "The Magic City" again. John Szwed remarks how the ensemble constructs the melodies, that the melodic construction is played piecemeal across the arkestra, rather than taken by a single lead voice or soloist. Perhaps akin in methodology to Webern's arrangement for orchestra of the Grande Fugue .... ???

http://www.nytimes.com/2004/05/19/obituari...6&ex=1085945238

Jazz Drummer Elvin Ray Jones Dies at 76 May 19, 12:07 AM (ET) NEW YORK (AP) - Elvin Ray Jones, a renowned jazz drummer and member of John Coltrane's quartet who also played alongside Duke Ellington, Charlie Parker and Miles Davis, died Tuesday. He was 76. Jones died of heart failure in an Englewood, N.J., hospital, said his wife of 38 years, Keiko Jones. "He's happy. No more suffering," said Keiko Jones. "He's been fighting for so long." Jones, called by Life magazine "the world's greatest rhythmic drummer," was born in Pontiac, Mich., one of ten children. He had two musician brothers: Hank, a jazz pianist, and Thad, a trumpet and flugelhorn player. Jones entered the Detroit jazz scene in the late 1940s after touring as a stagehand with the Army Special Services show Operation Happiness. After a brief gig at the Detroit club Grand River Street, he went to work at another club, backing up such jazz greats as Parker, Davis and Wardell Grey. Jones came to New York in 1955 for an unsuccessful audition for the Benny Goodman band but stayed in the city, joining Charlie Mingus' band and making a record called "J is Jazz." In 1960, he became a member of John Coltrane's quartet. Jones, with his rhythmic, innovative style, became one of jazz's most famous drummers under Coltrane. He can be heard on Coltrane's "A love Supreme" and "Coltrane Live at the Village Vanguard." After leaving the Coltrane quartet, Jones briefly played with Duke Ellington and formed the Elvin Jones' Jazz Machine. He put out several solo albums and continued to tour, including last month in Oakland, Calif., Keiko Jones said. Besides his wife, Jones is survived by a son and a daughter. --

Cecil Taylor, "Algonquin," with violinist Mat Maneri recorded in 1999 at the Library of Congress has just been issued by the classical Bridge Record label (www.bridgerecords.com). Bill Shoemaker writes the liner notes. One paragraph: "During the 1970's and 80's, Taylor arguably made greater strides in developing the compositional aspects of his music through his solo piano works, in part because of his preference for tonal centers such as A, B, E and F#, which are unwieldy for horn players. A seemingly unlikely kinship with Chopin began to manifest itself in romantic ballads tethered by bass lines played in octaves, which initially appeared as encores on such live recordings from the mid-'70s as "Silent Tongues." Conversely, Taylor retooled the so-called locked hands style, a time-worn jazz piano device most commonly associated with the likes of Milt Buckner and George Shearing, but also employed by Horace Silver, who Taylor reveres. Taylor’s extension of the locked hands style, particularly his use of mirrored fingerings and the mix of parallel and contrary motion between hands on his pivotal solo recordings of the 1980's -- "Garden" and "For Olim" -- served two important purposes: it gave Taylor’s music a more deliberate and occasionally relaxed feel; and it explicated his fascination with intervals of a minor third and smaller."

I bet that was swinging.

Dewey, btw, sounds together on the "new" Cameron Brown release from Omnitone, "Here and How!" with Shelia Jordan recorded in Belgium in 1997.