I’ve been contemplating on what to write about of late. Usually something coalesces every few months or so but we’re coming into the fall season and while there were a number of great listening experiences from last spring (including an organ recital at St John the Divine Cathedral here in NYC that left an imprint, sonically and architecturally) it remains elusive just what to say. I am appreciating more and more some of the spaces that present chamber music and wondering more and more what it takes to get acoustic improvised music going in a place built for listening.
This reticence in the form of verbal articulation may also have to do with contemplating just where the creative process has taken me. I must admit that some of my aesthetic choices have lead to a narrower artistic path. Even my listening has become more and more specific. Having attended only classical chamber music performances for the past few years I notice that I’ve gravitated strongly towards early music. That’s kind of surprising in that contemporary classical music has long been a major inspiration. However, there has been an increased emphasis on technology (amplification, video, electronic sound, AI) of late, such that I tend to avoid these kinds of performances. A festival of contemporary music took place in my neighborhood recently and in perusing the program in advance I noticed “sound engineer” as a frequent credit along with the musicians. That’s new.
It feels a bit strange to find myself in this place having long advocated for the “new” and “innovative”. And I’m no more comfortable aligning with any aesthetic that would go against that ethos at all. But it does feel positive to follow a creative path into uncertain territory, even when the path may feel a bit steeper, narrower and less populated. While there is risk in being out of step with most everything there is also freedom that comes in being “non-aligned” with prevailing trends. I do have clear ideas about what I’d like to make happen and have been setting some irons in the fire. So if you’ve been wondering (and I do occasionally get an e-mail from someone asking) please know that all is well and that I will let you know when I next appear on a stage. And if you are interested in studying and taking lessons, as always, please do feel free to contact me.
But while I contemplate the long view there have still been some momentary items that deserve mention…
Drummer Phil Haynes was one of my first musical companions in our early NYC days. In the mid eighties I had an apartment in the Inwood neighborhood, up near 200th street (sometimes referred to as upstate Manhattan). It often felt that way when traveling into Brooklyn on the subway which I often did, sometimes several hour-and-a-half-each-way trips a week in order to get together. Phil lived in what was technically a commercial space that he made into a living space, affectionately known as the corner store. These were formative years during which we spent many hours playing and hanging out. Over time the corner store became an incubator for projects leading to recordings and tours of Europe. Phil seemed to enjoy talking about music as much as I did and we often found that our duo sessions were elevated by trying our best to recall and articulate our experience of a twenty minute free improvisation and then going at it again, experiencing a much more vivid and potent improvisation as a result. I think this was the basis of developing a "composer's mind" towards the art of improvisation. Occasionally we would take a break and play some chess, which I was terrible at but determined to win after something like twenty consecutive losses over a period of months. We were both competitive but neither of us would admit to it. I began studying the game just so I could win once, after which time I was hooked. It remains my favorite hobby to this day. Phil’s determination away from music was evidenced after a trade, my old bike for his old turntable. The bike was nothing special, an inexpensive model from the ‘70s but Phil took to it and eventually rode it across the entire country.
One of the many projects that came out of that time was his band called "Four Horns and What?!", Phil being the what. "Four Horns and What?!" made two recordings on a small German label called Open Minds that have long been out of print. The group toured Europe in 1989 and worked stateside a bit, playing on a series of "Shelter Concerts" that were organized by Carnegie Hall (where Phil and I both worked as temps in the office during the day) for folks in some the city's homeless shelters. At various times the instrumentation involved Paul Smoker on trumpet, Andy Laster and myself on saxophones, and Joseph Daley, Herb Robertson or Frank Lacy on low brass. After I left the group clarinetist Don Byron played and subsequently organized a concert for Phil at the Brooklyn Academy of Music in 1995 that featured John Tchicai on tenor. In fact, a live recording of that concert was made and lost for some time, having just resurfaced and is included on a rerelease that Phil put together including the first two out of print recordings called 4 Horns and What? The Complete American Recordings which is available on his Band Camp page.
This rerelease coincides with a newly written memoir from Phil that pretty much encapsulates his musical world view(s) called “Chasing the Masters”. It's a very personal account of a creative journey and all that it entails.
Composer Mikel Rouse, (who I wrote about in a previous post) has also written a memoir called “The World Got Away”. I've yet to read it in full but it promises to be an engaging view into his musical life with a perspective on New York's new music scene from the late '70s until now. You can dive into some of Mikel's inventive work on his website and Band Camp site. I recently showed Mikel my mother's vintage Maestro Rhythm King "beat box" as she called it, an early drum machine that she had hooked up to the organ at one time. I knew that Mikel made what was likely the first solo recording for drum machine alone (Quorum, 1984) so I supplied him with digital files made from the Rhythm King and he sent me back a promising test experiment. I'm hoping he decides to make a full composition from them.
Guitarist Terrence McManus may not have written his memoirs yet (he has time) but he has just released a “new” recording from 2017 that is finally getting it’s debut on Band Camp. It’s called “Music for Chamber Trio” and is an intimate trio setting with Terry, drummer Gerry Hemingway and myself. Terry and I worked together in Gerry's quintet and have since worked together from time to time on his own music, so it’s nice to have this documentation available finally. We caught up recently and he tells me's been working towards getting a couple of higher degrees in composition. It will be interesting to keep tabs on his future work.
Coming in early 2025…
Werner Uehlinger (founder of Hat Hut Records) has been hard at work of late with his series called ezz-thetics, concentrating on reissues. ezz-thetics is dedicated to vintage recordings but Werner has now begun what he calls the “First Visit” series, also archival but of more recent vintage. “First Visit” will be rereleasing the first two “Trio New York” recordings (with organist Gary Versace and drummer Gerald Cleaver) that were originally released on my own label, prime source, in 2011 and 2013 respectively. As distribution of those titles was very limited, especially outside the US, I’m pleased that they will be back in print and available once again. Stay tuned…
More from the Archives...
And as always, there is the sporadic push in getting other personal archival material organized and…well, not sure what. But it needs to be done. In speaking with jazz journalist Bill Shoemaker (who is doing the liner notes for the Trio New York rereleases) the subject of my mother organist Bobbie Lee came up and Bill asked me where in Baltimore she used to play. I have a list of places that she told me years ago and have attempted many times to research old newspapers or other on-line records to see if there is any documentation of her career to be found. There never has been. However, I knew she played at a “Howard Johnson’s” when that was a hotel-restaurant-lounge operation that had live music six nights a week. I knew the location had changed hands over the years but I was curious if it was still there in some form so I looked it up. I was stunned to find the following photograph…(click the photo to enlarge)...
On the marquee you’ll notice Bobbie Lee at the Gaslite Lounge, tonight! This photo was in the form of a postcard which the company made for each location all over the country. People collect these things apparently, there are scores and scores of them to be found on line. This one, from 1965 I’m guessing, was a real needle in the haystack and constitutes the first documentation I’ve found on any of her gigs. I really need to follow up on fleshing out her story but for now we have this bit of Americana.
I also came across a great photo of my first saxophone teacher, Jimmy Oronson, in action sometime in the 60’s. He's on baritone in this shot but you can see his alto and tenor saxophones to the side. He had a signature tune called "Double Trouble" in which he played alto and baritone simultaneously. I haven’t spoken much about him but he played on the same circuit that my mother played on, hotels, lounges, restaurants, nightclubs. Very little documentation exists of this scene. Few if any folks recorded or played outside of Baltimore. But it was the tail end of a robust night life in which every joint and gin mill in town seemed to have live music. And the Hammond B3 organ played large part in that scene. I believe the organist in this photo was Charlie Pfaff. I remember he and his vocalist wife Connie playing pretty regularly up until rather late in the game for that scene. Jimmy Oronson (or Mr. Jim as I always called him) was of the old school. His lessons concentrated on sound above all. He also insisted I learn the clarinet, which he studied with the legendary Ignatius Gennusa who played in the Baltimore Symphony and taught at the Peabody Institute. Mr. Jim would recall “Iggy” tossing his reeds out the window (apparently he was quite picky) and the students gathering them up, often finding them quite playable.
I really do need to start writing down more of these stories…
