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May 2004
Feature Articles

Travel stories, music news, memorials

Travel Story

Butch and Grace's New York "Jazzalogue"

 

By Butch Berman

 

NEW YORK CITY—I hadn’t visited America’s greatest city, New York City ofButch and Norman Hedman in New York City [Photo by Grace Gandu Berman] course, since I took my BMF gang eastward to catch Norman Hedman and Tropique’s CD release party at the famed Blue Note club for "Taken by Surprise" and to help me celebrate my 50th birthday.

 

I was using Amtrak in those days, never flying.  Then after 9-11 I wondered if my neurotic self would ever see NYC again.  Well, thanks to the ever-so-healing attributes from my loving and supportive wife, Grace, I made it.

 

We flew to Chicago for our honeymoon last year, so this was my second flight in about eight or nine years. No sweat! I’ve made a complete 360 and now truly love flying and sorta traveling. Grace getting me to try to dig the process more, and complain less, sure has helped. Once I get to my destination (and especially NYC) I seem to transform into a true native and run non-stop like a madman trying to take in everything we can until we have to return home. Usually for bout a week or so, I ruminate on how we should move and live there until “most” of the realities set in.  Lincoln’s a great place to live, NYC is a great place to visit, but maybe…

 

Even getting to Eppley Airfield in Omaha for our non-stop to Newark/NYC was a gas. I had read about a new van shuttle called Omalink that provides rides to and from Lincoln to Omaha from different convenient pick-up and drop-off locations. My photographer Rich Hoover used them and loved their service, so I thought, why not? Larger cities utilize these, so it’s neat we now do. Owned and operated by Chris Stokes and Shawn Mrsny, and with Bruce Baker handling dispatch, they make a good team. Our driver, Ed Shaw, was a sheer delight. Fun, polite and helpful, as well as a decent driver, made for a very pleasant trip. Ed, a barbershop singer on the side, even sang a duet with me on “You Are My Sunshine,” as Grace just shook her head in disbelief. What a great start for our excursion, huh? Oh yeah, don’t wanna forget, call ‘em at (402) 475-LINK (5465) and leave the driving to THEM.

 

Norman graciously picked us up at the Newark airport. I’ll never book a flight toButch plays Norman's piano [Photo by Grace Gandu Berman] a major metropolis on a Friday night at rush hour again, if I can help it. Minor oversight, I guess, but I felt sorry for Norman. This is the kinda stuff that probably keeps me rooted in the Midwest for most of my life. Anyway, I’ve always dug the mid-town or “Hell’s Kitchen” neighborhood as my turf when in town. That way you can just catch the airport shuttle bus outta NJ into Port Authority, NYC, and be less than half a mile walk or cab ride to the hotel I usually frequent, called the Belvedere on 48th Street between Eighth and Ninth avenues. From there you’re within a half-hour walk from just about anything you might want to do in Manhattan in all directions.

 

As far as the Belvedere goes, it’s a pretty comfortable, European-style older hotel that was once a residency apartment, with an interesting history I’m sure. Bring your smudgestick unless you encourage earth-bound spirits as roommates in the “Big Apple.” The biggest drawback is the super-slow, tiny elevators that are always too full for you to get on within its 20-some floors. Clean rooms with all you’d need while in NY, very pleasant staff and a great concierge. Right across from the Musicians Union, it’s a PERFECT location place to stay for a fair price. I’d probably avoid their “cafe” which is really an over-priced buffet with many other better choices within minutes. The old Metro on 48th Street and Eighth Avenue, which had better bagels and onion to boot, is now the Pigalle, and still worth starting your morning coffee with.

 

This was Grace’s first trip to NYC, so we couldn’t have been in better hands toGrace and Russ Dantzler [Photo by Butch Berman] help show her the ropes than Norman and my old friend from Lincoln, now a New Yorker all the way, Russ Dantzler, who still operates his Hot Jazz Management but on a more limited basis. We all had our first Ninth Avenue late dinner at the Westside Cottage Two to plot out our short trip’s activities.  FYI, food is great and not terribly overpriced everywhere in the city but Ninth Avenue from 36th Street to 57th Street is a famed notorious “Restaurant Row” that has an annual “Food Fair.”

 

Russ suggested a boat trip for us the next morning, so Grace could get a better picture of how the island is laid out. Unfortunately, we had unseasonably cold, Nebraska-like weather with the temperature hovering around 30 degrees, rain, gale-like winds and snow threatening. Luckily, as Nebraskans we handled the cold OK and brought appropriate duds, but shelved the boat for an Uptown Bus Tour. Again because of the rotten climate, we had to sit inside the bus instead of the top deck…and couldn’t see much. The fumes were getting to me too, but the tour guide was very informative. His major prob was he was dyslexic so whenever he said to check something out on the right, we all had to laugh, and look left. After the tour, Grace and I found a lovely joint called the Brazil Grille on about 46th Street and Eighth Avenue, and had maybe our favorite meal of the week.

 

For our first jazz experience, we met up again with Russ and another dearRuss Dantzler and Norman Hedman [Photo by Butch Berman] friend of his and mine, Ms. Mikala Freitas. A sweet and talented singer-dancer who also does excellent massage work. Sadly, she had just lost her beau to the horrible war in Iraq, and was feeling very blue. These blues were soon to be chased away for at least as long as the marvelous performance that awaited us.

 

Subscribing to the ever-so-snappy guide to NY/ NJ jazz haps, Hot House magazine arrived the day before we left. I even got to meet their VP/General Manager Gwen Calvier-Dittmann at Zuni the following Monday. Anyway, Hot House had this full-page ad for a show at Jazz at Lincoln Center called “Brazilian Nights”Toots Thielemans and Friends…friends consisting of Kenny Werner, Oscar Castro-Neves and Airto.

 

Ohmygawd!  I’ve loved the gorgeous harmonica of Mr. Thielemans since I first learned his famed standard, “Bluesette” as a piano recital piece as a youngster. Later discovering his early guitar work as Jean Thielemans with George Shearing’s first recorded groups. A lovely sage-like gentleman with be-bop chops, and a golden tone to die for…he surpassed my expectations, regardless of his 80-plus years of existence.  Werner, a piano genius and inspirational author, has worked and recorded with Toots a lot the past few years.  His brilliant playing on the piano, augmented by an additional keyboard to simulate strings, etc., shaded and laid down a backdrop to accompany Mr. T. to a T.  One of the first to ever record Bossa Nova music is Castro-Neves, whose guitar and vocal stylings were simply magical as the one and only drummer/percussionist Airto lived up to all his proceeded legionary status.

 

They hushed the packed Alice Tully Hall, doing two sets that could have gone on all night.  Pure perfection.  We left sated…dazed in a Brazilian haze to end our night with desert and wine at the quaint and busy Café Luxenberg.

 

The law firm Cline Williams has taken care of my family for years. Since the beginnings of my foundation, they have been there for me 24/7 taking care of me, Grace, our families and homes and of course the Berman Music Foundation. Not only are they a great law firm, but best of friends as well.  I can’t say enuff good stuff bout Dan Stogsdill, Tony and Tammy Rager, Kay Davis, Kristy Rohr and Matt Campbell.

 

For my birthday this year, knowing of our destination, they wanted to get us tickets for any Broadway play of our choice. After a couple of snafus, we settled on a matinee at the Vivian Beaumont Theater, also at the Lincoln Center, featuring Broadway, cabaret and opera star and diva Barbara Cook.  She put on basically a one-woman show backed only by her long time pianist/arranger Wally Harper and bassist Richard Sarpola. Her tribute to most of the fabulous Broadway songwriters through her personal stories, and songs was one of the best musical experiences I’ve ever attended.  I got to meet and hear her years ago and never forgot her most lovely voice. Truly one of the world’s finest.  Now in her mid-70, at least, she still looked as beautiful and classy as ever…and her voice maybe never better. A glorious trip taken through memory lane.

 

Another one of the main reasons I chose this time to visit New York was to see my dear friend, jazz pianist Jane Jarvis, and introduce her to Grace. The BMF had brought Jane to Lincoln a number of times, and our friendship just seemed to grow in leaps and bounds. Now approaching 90 and becoming a bit frail, but still elegant, I just couldn’t hang in the city and not spend time with this fantastic lady.

 

Grace and I walked from the Cook concert to the Eastside with flowers and a deli lunch to dine with Jane. She and her apartment looked radiant, as we were greeted warmly. We shared stories, a few laughs and had a ball ending our stay with Jane and me taking turns playing the piano for each other. Her keyboard work still excels and entertains most admirably. I will always love her and be her fan. Hope she makes it to a 100 and then some. Thank you, Jane, for a sweet afternoon.

 

Sunday must have been a diva day. Hearing Barbara Cook, then Jane, and by evening we were gearing up to catch dinner and a set by jazz vocalist Carmen Lundy.

 

While visiting my old pal Fred Cohen at his magnificent Jazz Record Center (see story below), I mentioned that I couldn’t make up my mind to see the Memphis sax master George Coleman at Smoke (formally Augie’s) or Carmen at the new Eastside club Le Jazz Au Bar, Fred raved so regarding Ms. Lundy and how infrequent and outta sight her performances were, we decided to check her out. She may have been the main event, musically, of our whole weekend.

 

Joined again by Russ, the room was grand, yet intimate. Great sound and sightlines, cheerful waitress and delicious cuisine made this another night to remember.  Carmen and her band, led by her brother and bassist Curtis, were about as good as it gets. Pouring her heart and soul into every song, she had the rapt attention of everyone in the room as she stayed in the zone from start to finish. Deserved standing ovations followed suit. I’m now in search of every recorded album and CD she’s ever put out. Better call Fred.

 

Our last day in New York was reserved mostly to hang with Norman. He and IHoracee Arnold [Photo by Butch Berman] had a ball messing with his recording equipment and touring the amazing artist’s complex he’s lived in for many years. Got to hang with his upstairs neighbor, drummer, writer and painter extraordinaire Horacee Arnold. He was on Norman Hedman’s first album, “Flight of the Spirit,” as well as being the original drummer in Chick Corea’s Return to Forever. His longtime friend, drummer Max Roach, helped to bring Arnold to New York from Kentucky to play behind Miriam Makeba at the start of his career. He played some of his new-recorded works for us, and we talked of him and Norman playing together for me in Topeka or at an upcoming Jazz in June sometime soon down the line. A very cool and brilliant chap, that Mr. Arnold is.

 

Norman then gave Grace a walking tour, as well as her first subway ride through the lower Eastside, Little Italy and Chinatown, stopping to eat at my fave Jewish Deli, Katz’s Delicatessen and then to visit my ole buddy Lou Holtzman.

 

Norman Hedman and Lou Holtzman at Eastside Sound [Photo by Butch Berman]Lou, in my opinion probably the best recording engineer in the biz, had recently relocated his Eastside Sound. We dropped by to say howdy and catch a session that he was wrapping up. Lo and behold, the adorable young woman who was making her first record, Ms. Teraesa Vinson, really knocked me out, so much so that we plan to use some of our grant money to help her get her first CD out and tour some. She was that good, as was her band. Consisting of Dion Parson on drums; saxophonist Ron Blake; Carlton Holmes on keyboards, bassist Nicki Parrott and Tom Dempsey on guitar, the band just smoked. We wish her the utmost success with her promising career.

 

We wrapped up our non-stop jazzathon meeting Russ for dinner at ZuniCarlton Holmes, Teraesa Vinson, Dion Parson, Vicki Parrott, Tom Dempsey and Ron Blake at Eastside Sound [Photo by Butch Berman] and catching a great band that plays there every Monday night for no cover. The Joe Cohn-Harry Allen Quartet is one of the best groups I’ve heard in years. Guitarist Joe Cohn is saxophonist Al Cohn’s son and today’s answer to Barney Kessel. Saxophonist Harry Allen is probably best know for his many recordings with singer-guitarist John Pizzarelli. The quartet also consists of Joel Forbes on bass and Chuck Riggs on drums. Russ sent me their new release for Xmas, “The Harry Allen Quartet,” and it totally cooks. Check him out at www.harryallenjazz.com for more on this young tenor master. We had to leave before Frank Wess joined them to jam to take the “A Train” to Harlem, as it was getting late and we were flying home the next morning.

 

We couldn’t have ended our trip in a better place than Lucy’s Lounge to get blown away by the big Harlem Renaissance Orchestra doing a huge chunk of Basie and Ellington arrangements while Lucy’s patrons danced the night away doing the Lindy Hop as if they were still back at the Savoy during the 30’s. What a night, what a trip, what a TREMENDOUS city New York City is. It felt all right getting back to Lincoln…but I can’t wait to return to that wondrous island…Manhattan.  

 


Friends of Jazz

Jazz Record Center is collectors' paradise

 

By Butch Berman

 

NEW YORK CITY—I have been a rabid vinyl junkie since childhood. WorkingFred Cohen and Butch at the Jazz Record Center [Photo by Grace Gandu Berman] with Charlie Burton during the ‘70s and soaking up some of his musical knowledge helped me turn up a notch my hunger to get out there and hunt. The thrills, excitement and competitive nature of this vast hobby enabled me to acquire a wonderful assortment of 45s, LPs, now CDs, videos, now DVDs and a whole shitload of musical memorabilia. I’ve had to move a couple of times to make room for my fabled possessions, and since I started the Berman Music Foundation I have legally made my house a museum/shrine for it all.

 

My main desire now is just to be able to live long enough to hear, view and/or read all the stuff that I’ve compiled—over 30,000 pieces of music in the past 45-plus years, or as I call it, “truly owning” each item to where I’ve absorbed it and etched its very details into my nearly overstuffed memory bank.

 

One time before I met Charlie I had sold my collection to David Hibler, a University of Nebraska-Lincoln English professor. I had assisted him in his class on the history of rock ‘n’ roll. After Charlie Burton and Rock Therapy got popular, Dave must have sensed the importance of my involvement with music and just gave them all back to me, with a few rarities of his own thrown in for good measure. That’s another story unto itself, and I’ve never stopped searching since that time.

 

Of course, my adventure has spanned record shops, Goodwill stores and garage sales from coast to coast. Outside of my longtime personal involvement with my good friend Wade Wright, who owns and operates San Francisco’s oldest record store, Jack’s Record Cellar, my all-time favorite haunt is Fred Cohen’s Legendary Jazz Record Center at 236 West 26th St. Room 804 in New York City. 

 

I can’t even remember who turned me on to this incredible spot to feed my hunger neatly tucked away on the eighth floor of this near-Chelsea establishment. You have to be buzzed in the building through an intercom, then take the elevator up to a safe, clean, roomy space crammed to the hilt with the best variety of jazz music in one place that I’ve ever shopped in.

 

The genius behind this almost-perfect environment to pursue sounds falls on the astute shoulders of Mr. Fred Cohen. His impeccable taste and dignity towards this national treasure called jazz is not to be equaled. You will never hear anything on his fine sound system that doesn’t catch your ear and remind you why you love this magical music so much. Fred’s warm persona shines through as he fields your inquiries with his brilliant awareness of the massive inventory, with no pressure to buy anything. 

 

Originally from Boston, Fred, now in his late 50s, started this business on April 1, 1983.  He has only employed six assistants during his tenure and tells me he still keeps in touch with five of them. Now that’s a good boss. Most of his clientele comes from word-of-mouth. Most of the records come to him—people move, get married, pass away, etc., and often need to part with collections that have been stored in attics, basements and garages of people’s homes. Fred says a large portion of his inventory comes from Ohio, Pennsylvania, Connecticut, and of course, New York City and its boroughs.

 

Butch in paradise [Photo by Grace Gandu Berman]The condition of these discs is pristine as any I’ve ever encountered. Prices can be steep at times, but the rarities of his finds are worth every penny to us fellow collectors, and I consider his pricing fair. I’ve never hassled him about discounts, but he is keenly aware of who you are and what you purchased and often ships without charging postage. You can shop via his website at www.jazzrecordcenter.com.

 

If you want to look at everything in his stock, including a great library of books and videos, you may need a second day to stop back. There is that much there—all killer, no filler. I ALWAYS find something. This time, it was a Vi Redd LP I have been after for years, as well as Terry Gibbs doing jazz versions of Jewish music. 

 

You get the scoop here—if you are a true collector and are in New York City (or online), make the Jazz Record Center your one-stop shopping. You won’t be sorry and, like me, will return for more time and time again. Thank you, Fred, for your kindness, patience and perseverance. I know you might want to retire someday—and I hope your only son digs the sounds, too, so your fabulous Jazz Record Center will never have to shut its doors. Call Fred at (212) 675-4480 and tell him the Bebopman sent you. I know you will thank me for this.

 

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I Said, She Said

Two views on the etiquette of jazz listening

 

I SAID

 

By Butch Berman

I'm a gabber, always on the phone and probably not the world's best listener within a group, and a touch of bipolarism and ADD added to the mix can't help either. But, listening to music, well now, that's an entirely different story.

 

I must have been born to be a record/CD collector and/or music critic. I feel I have the ability to hear every instrument, each layer of sound, space within space. You get the picture, Mr. Total Absorption here.

Natch, my near-anal fixation with hearing/listening to music, mainly jazz, has always been a sore spot for me. Being a professional musician for more than 40 years, I've competed with audiences for my time and space on stage a lot. Sometimes I think, "What the heck!" On my worst nights, people tell me I sound great and on my rare, but occasionally totally in-the-zone performances, I've been dumbfounded as everyone appears to be sitting on their hands, but dat's show biz, I guess.

Anyway, I've always admired artists, Karrin Allyson comes to mind, who don't take any crap off their occasionally rude patrons and, as Barney Fife would have said, "Nip it in the bud!" and get back to the main event, music! Whether a gig or concert, the artist at his or her performances should be respected and revered like you'd reserve for professors in their classrooms. I knew I was on the mark when some of New York's best true jazz rooms posted signs to remind folks to refrain from talking in order to truly appreciate what's being presented.

 

I will forever stand on this premise, but my wife, Grace, who by no means is rowdy or disrespectful to any of the acts that she takes in with me. She still has another take on this subject and feels I take this matter too seriously. Read on and you can be the judge. We would appreciate your e-mail responses and opinions on this matter.

SHE SAID

 

By Grace Gandu Berman

 

As a jazz fan I am concerned with the declining popularity of this great art form. I have a lot of respect for all the great talented artists out there and their ability to entertain and transport an audience to magical places with their music. It is a shame that most of these artists don't enjoy the degree of success that they should have.

 

However, some jazz shows can run the risk of being too stuffy and stiff, possibly alienating an audience that might otherwise be interested. Maybe jazz artist and club owners think there is a need to educate fans about the music and demand absolute attention. As much as I enjoy the music, I don't go to shows to be tutored. That should be saved for the classroom. When the music is good and the artist is engaging, my attention is absolute.

 

When artists put more energy into playing great music, the audience will be entertained and you won't have to compete with noise or demand attention. Your work will do that for you. The only reason the average fan goes to a show is for the entertainment value.

 

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Giacomo Gates sings the "Five Spot Blues"

 

By Giacomo Gates

 

On Sunday afternoon Feb. 8, I did a performance at Wesleyan University in Connecticut, where I am part of the private lesson faculty. The gig was held at Russell House, a beautiful old mansion, converted to performance spaces and philosophy department offices. There was standing room only, with people overflowing into the next room and sitting on the staircase. The rhythm section was made up of Tony Lombardozzi, guitar; Jeff Fuller, bass; and Jesse Hameen, drums.

 

Giacomo Gates [Photo courtesy Giacomo Gates website]Halfway through the set, a bearded man in the back of the room raised his hand and said, “Five Spot Blues!” It’s a Thelonious Monk composition, with my lyrics to Monk’s melody and Charlie Rouse’s solo… a historical lyric. It’s the opening tune on my first album, “Blues Skies.” I tell a short story about the club to set up the tune, and we do the request.

 

About 12 years earlier, when I had begun to write the lyrics, I had met Stuart Troup, a jazz critic and writer. I asked him if he had any information on the Five Spot, as I had done some library research, but was looking for something more personal. He suggested I call Charles Turyn, who used to be a waiter at the Five Spot.

 

Charles Turyn was open and willing to share some great stories. He spoke very well of the two brothers that owned the Five Spot, Joey and Iggy Termini. Sometimes, there weren’t enough chairs in the club, although Turyn remembers a slow night, the brothers paying the band, then borrowing money from the waiters to get cab fare home… and, of course, paying them back… real people, golden cats… little tables big enough for four drinks and an ashtray… Monk keeping the club alive, and the club keeping Monk alive… along with stories of players and people who frequented the club.

 

Turyn is a book of jazz history himself, working at the Five Spot in 1957-58 and again in 1960 and ’61. Later, he was a bartender at the Tine Palace and, lastly, the head bartender at the very famous and now unfortunately defunct Bradley’s, from 1980 to ’86. He knew all the cats, and he plays tenor sax and piano, as well. Charles told me so many stories; I told him he should write a book. We have also become good friends.

 

“Johnny Griffin and John Coltrane, David Amram, Cecil Taylor blew there, too.

Let me hip you, it was a time of innovation, there was a sextet with Phil Woods,

Charlie Mingus played his goods, and Sphere, no square.

Everyone raved, Five Cooper Square! Everyone played there, Art Farmer, Lou Donaldson and even Lester…

Joey and Iggy Termini, they really loved the music, they even helped Monk get his cabaret card back for him, yeah.”

                                                                                      

 — from “Five Spot Blues”

 

One summer night in 1990, I go to Condon’s on East 17th Street to listen to the great Lou Donaldson. He is very gracious and asks me to sit in with him. I call a blues in B flat and sing my new lyrics to Monk’s “Five Spot Blues,” partially to try ‘em out, but mostly because Lou is one of the cats mentioned in the lyric, and I wanted him to hear it.

 

So, I finish the tune, and sit down at one of the tables. A man wearing a black, flat-rimmed hat comes over to me and asks me where I got those lyrics. I respond, “I wrote them.” He says, “My daddy wrote that tune, my name is T.S. Monk. Would you like to sit at my table for a minute?” Just a few weeks before, I had sent my lyrics to the Thelonious Monk Institute and now, by chance, I’m sitting with his son, T.S. To cut to the coda, Thelonious Music and T.S. Monk gives me permission to record my lyrics to Monk’s “Five Spot Blues.” I call it “Five Cooper Square,” the address of the club. It gets released on the DMP label in 1995, the CD titled “Blue Skies.”

 

Return to Russell House, Wesleyan… a very good gig, the rhythm section sounds great, really happenin’… and exuberant crowd, and I feel good. After the performance is over, the bearded cat approaches me holding a black T-shirt. Printed on the front are white piano keys, with the words “Five Spot” over the top, and the address Five Cooper Square, NYC. I look at him, he says to me, “This shirt is from the Five Spot, and I’d like you to meet my father, Iggy Termini.”

 

Needless to say, I am gassed! We have a short conversation, while I am pumping Mr. Termini’s hand. I’m knocked out to meet him, knocked out that he’s hip to my lyrics that pay tribute to his club, the music, the era, and to him and his brother, Joe, who passed away a few years ago… and, of course, to Thelonious Monk and Charlie Rouse.

 

His son, who I am too wigged to even think to ask his first name, says to me, “When I heard your lyrics to this tune a few years ago, it made me cry.” I thank them both profusely, for coming, and a bit choked up myself, take my treasured T-shirt home.

 

“Goin’ to a night club, got to be the right club, good folks and swingin’ music…

Everyone’ll be there, baby, don’t you be square, we’re goin’ to the Five Spot…

Baby, can you make the scene?”

 

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Music News

Educator Bobby Watson gets recognition

 

By Tom Ineck

 

As both a top-of-the-bill alto saxophonist and a first-rate educator, BobbyBobby Watson [File Photo] Watson is in demand, and his labors in both fields of jazz are paying off with some highly deserved recognition.

 

Watson, 50, has been an endowed professor and director of jazz studies at the University of Missouri-Kansas City Conservatory of Music since 2000. In early April he took his UMKC jazz ensemble all the way to top honors at the North Texas Jazz Festival in Addison, Texas.

 

For more on his recent achievements and current activities, I caught up with Watson by phone while he spent a few days in Pittsburgh, Pa., where he was performing at the Manchester Craftsmen’s Guild in a program called “Jazz Across the Americas.” The band for that gig included trumpeter Nicholas Payton, trombonist Jay Ashby, bassist Marion Hayden-Banfield (of Straight Ahead fame) and drummer Roger Humphries.

 

Watson related with pride his students’ first-place showing at the Texas jazz fest.

 

“There were 10 bands from across the country, from Hawaii and Oklahoma and out East, 10 bands that were invited to the festival,” he noted. “It’s a non-competitive festival, but they did say that they were going to pick one band out of the 10 to perform that evening and open the concert for John Pizzarelli. And that band would receive an award named after Dr. Gene Hall.”

 

As a graduate student at what was then known as North Texas State Teachers College, Hall wrote the thesis, “The Development of a Curriculum for the Teaching of Dance Music at the College Level,” which was the model for the first jazz degree offered at North Texas State, a dance band major in 1947. The program attracted national attention and enrollment soared. Hall remained head of the lab band program until 1959, and then taught at Michigan State University, College of the Desert in Palm Desert, Calif., and Stephen F. Austin State University in Nacogdoches, Texas, where he was music department chair from 1967 to 1983. He died in 1993.

 

Watson took 21 UMKC students to the festival, ranging in age from 19 to 28, including two pianists, two drummers, a percussionist and a guitarist. They performed Bob Brookmeyer’s composition “Hello and Goodbye,” and a tune called “Mi Nina,” by Marlon Simon, a percussionist and brother of longtime Watson keyboardist Edward Simon. One of Watson’s students, Pablo San Hueza of Chile, played the bata drums native to his homeland on the second piece.

 

The band also played a Bob Brookmeyer arrangement of the Hoagy Carmichael classic “Skylark,” featuring Rick Rieger on alto sax, and finished with Watson’s own “Wheel Within a Wheel.”

 

“We try to swing,” Watson said. “I try to make it sound like a jazz band. Our rhythm section swings. I try to make sure they’re comping and playing the right stuff.”

 

Five UMKC soloists also won recognition in Texas. Two years ago, Watson also led his band to the highest rating during a similar event at the University of Notre Dame two years ago. His ability to play examples of jazz concepts on his horn is a great benefit in the classroom, he said.

 

“I use my performing in my teaching, because it’s so good to be able to demonstrate to students what you’re talking about. The horn is a great equalizer. They see me do it and they know they need to do that. It cuts out a lot of conversation.”

 

His standing as an endowed professor also allows him to maintain his national and international presence as a performer in his own right. When he’s on the road, trombonist Paul McKee directs the UMKC band.

 

“I have a lot of one-on-one students, so I give them extra work,” Watson said. “Most of my students have enough stuff for a couple of years,” he said, laughing, “So if they miss a week, it’s OK. We make it up when I go back.”

 

When the school year is over at the end of April, Watson heads to Alaska for a week of “Jazz in America” programs in public schools, courtesy of the Thelonious Monk Institute. In mid-May he heads to Europe for a tour with the 29th Street Saxophone Quartet, a group with which Watson has been associated for more than 20 years.

 

Another of Watson’s long-standing ensembles, Horizon, also will regroup for a series of concerts this summer. The quintet, which was one of the most exciting and talented jazz combos to emerge in the early 1990s, also consists of trumpeter Terell Stafford, pianist Ed Simon, bassist Essiet Essiet and drummer Victor  Lewis. Watson’s personal favorite, the group recently recorded “Horizon Reassembled,” a CD on Palmetto Records that is scheduled for release in June.

 

Midwesterners can look forward to the 2005 Topeka Jazz Festival for an entire Memorial Day weekend of performances by Horizon.

 

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Memorial

Claude "Fiddler" Williams was my kind of guy

 

By Butch Berman

 

If there is life after death, which I hope and believe there is, I want to come back as either one of my beloved pets or the recently departed Claude “Fiddler” Williams, who died peacefully April 25 in his “playground” of Kansas City, Mo., at the ripe old age of 96.

 

What a life this cat had! He was born in Oklahoma on Feb. 22, 1908, andBill Easley, Sir Roland Hanna, Joe Ascione, Claude Williams and Earl May at 1994 recording session [Photo by Russ Dantzler] played guitar during the late 1920s with Andy Kirk and the Twelve Clouds of Joy. Before Freddie Green came along, he played with Count Basie’s band.  Claude would later hear Joe Venuti play his violin, and within a short span mastered his jazzy, swinging fiddle style.

 

Claude would then travel the globe, recording and playing with virtually everyone that ever was from Art Tatum to Ms. Kendra Shank for the next 70-plus years.

 

I used to catch him at the old Nebraska Legionnaire Club in my early 20s, jammin’ with other vets like Jay McShann, and later sittin’ in playing the blues at Lincoln’s own Zoo Bar.

 

When visiting his manager at the time, my old pal Russ Dantzler of Hot Jazz Management in New York, we helped Claude celebrate his 87th birthday at the now defunct Downstairs at the Metropolis. Backed by such jazz luminaries as bassist Earl May, Junior Mance on piano and Tootsie Bean on the drums, it was like a revelation for me. Mostly used to hearing Claude supported by local Nebraska musicians, it was a rare treat hearing him truly swing out giggin’ with some of the East Coast “heavies.”

 

Rod Fleeman, Todd Strait, Lisa Henry, Bob Bowman and Claude Williams at 1996 recording session [Photo by Russ Dantzler]It was that gig that inspired me to bring that same band to the Zoo so folks could REALLY hear Claude at his best. We got pianist Jaki Byard and trombonist Jimmy Knepper from the original Mingus gang, Earl on bass, the vastly underrated drummer Jackie Williams and newcomer at the time, vocalist Kendra Shank, to knock people’s socks off for an entire weekend. This show helped pave the way for many more great BMF shows to follow for nearly the next decade plus covering their debut Statesmen of Jazz concert at the Sacramento (Calif.) Jazz Festival around 1997.

 

Claude’s life got a bit bumpy the last 10 years or so. But go figure…if you’ve lived that long with good health and fortune, you’re bound to get kicked in the butt a little by the law of averages. A fall here, a car accident there, and his lovely wife, Blanche, dealing with her own health recovery issues, all came to Claude in his later years.

 

Still, here’s a guy who always put too much sugar in his coffee, drank, smoked and gambled a bit, never worked out a lick and lived nearly a century doing what he loved the most. Hell, this guy is my hero... playing, teaching and living the life of a true “Jazz Cat.”  He had such strong genes he never even had a wrinkle on his handsome face.

 

Yeah…I’d love to come back as Claude Williams. God bless the “Fiddler.”

 

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Memorial

Composer/arranger Frank Mantooth, 56, dies

 

Frank Mantooth, 56, a composer, pianist, arranger and 11-time Grammy Award nominee, died Jan. 30 at his home in Garden City, Kan. He reportedly died of natural causes.

 

Mantooth was born April 11, 1947, in Tulsa, Okla. By age 14, he was playing in public. In 1969 he earned a bachelor's degree in music from North Texas State University and contributed arrangements as a member of the Air Force Academy Falconaires from 1969 to 1973. He received a piano degree in Vienna, Austria, in 1977.

 

Back in the United States, he was commissioned to write music for Doc Severinsen, The Kansas City Symphony and the Madison Symphony Orchestra. He taught at several universities, high schools and summer jazz camps. He published five volumes of “The Best Chord Changes for the World's Greatest Standards” for the Hal Leonard Corp., in addition to more than 165 works for combo and jazz ensembles since 1978.

 

He was a 1999 recipient of the Florence Crittenton Foundation's Citizen of the Year award, and that year, the Wichita Jazz Festival also gave him the annual Homer Osborne award for outstanding contributions to jazz education. He also was included in the 2001 edition of Grove's Dictionary of Jazz. As a leader, he made five albums that yielded 11 Grammy nominations.

 

Singer Marilyn Maye was working with him on his last project, a combination of female vocalists and instrumental music he was arranging before his death. He frequently brought friends like Maye home for events like the Garden City Jazz Festival and the Tumbleweed Festival.

 

Vocalist Kevin Mahogany and bassist Bob Bowman were among the last of Mantooth's friends to perform with him Jan. 17 in Great Bend. Both also had performed with him in Garden City in recent years.

 

Mantooth's move to Garden City began with a one-semester residency at Garden City Community College in 1995.

 

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