Guillermo Klein at the Village Vanguard

Guillermo Klein

When we study jazz history, there is talk of legendary venues: The Cotton Club, The Palomar Ballroom, Minton's Playhouse, The Five Spot, The Plugged Nickel, etc...Of course, one of those places that still thrives today is the Village Vanguard. Located on 7th Avenue South right in the heart of Greenwich Village, this famous club has been a hot ticket since the mid 30's. I've only performed here a handful of times over the years, but I've seen a lot of great music there. I must say, in some ways, the Vanguard, like many famous places, can underwhelm at first glance: it's pretty small, the dressing room is the remnants of a working kitchen, and the proprietor (Lorraine Gordon, widow of Max Gordon, the founder) can be quite gruff to the customers. And yet, the sound of the room is great, and it carries a lot of cache to get a booking there. Furthermore, it's one of the few clubs where you can still book an entire week, which means it's possible to develop the music over six nights, which is what the masters did back when there were a plethora of performing opportunities.

Los Guachos

A friend convinced me to come down to the Vanguard and see pianist and composer Guillermo Klein y Los Guachos. "Guachos" is apparently Argentinian slang for "buddies". Klein is Argentinian and lives and teaches there currently, although he did live in Boston as a Berklee student, and also lived in New York and Barcelona previously. I actually saw his big band when they used to play at Small's in the mid 90's. Klein's music is extremely unique: he's doing things with a large ensemble that I guarantee you've never heard before. Klein is an accomplished pianist, but he doesn't use his band to showcase any sort of pianistic virtuosity. He leads his men from the piano, while letting the many other formidable soloists in his band take the spotlight. One of Klein's trademarks is his isolation of rhythm as a thematic element, much like classical composers like Steve Reich, John Adams, and maybe, dare I say, Beethoven?

Bill McHenry

The night started with a piece called "Human Feel" that really seemed blatantly minimalist: a large repeated phrase in 3/4 that implied smaller groupings of 5 within it, and then shifting to more of a 6 feeling, and then back to the 5 groupings. It's as if Klein is orchestrating his piano improvisational vamps for the large band, which consisted of two trumpets, trombone(occasionally 2 trombones when trumpeter Diego Urcola doubled on valve trombone), three saxes, electric bass, guitar, drums, percussion(although impressively, the percussionist picked up a trumpet on occasion), and of course, Klein on piano.The next piece, called "Juana", had a suspended chord vibe, and featured an amazing solo by tenor saxophonist Bill McHenry; it began with one note, very intensely, and then he tapered down with some contrasting rapid firings, and then brought the energy back up again with lyricism.

Jeff Ballard

"Mariana", the next tune, I found to be distinct in that it combined some very brooding harmony, and a possibly romantic sentiment, with a 5/4 rhythm that had a syncopated backbeat. This 5/4 rhythm served as sort of a rhythmic M.C. Escher painting, in that you can hear the melody in 5, or in 6, depending on how you focus your attention. Drumming master Jeff Ballard is an expert in endeavors such as this, and his navigation of the rhythmic labyrinths of Klein's compositions makes it all seem effortless. This is what was so compelling about this piece is that the oddness of the meter wasn't the only thing happening; it's only one element.

Most of the music that was performed was new, however, I did recognize one piece from Klein's 2008 release Filtros; the seemingly 7/4 "Muila" is another rhythmic illusion, where it seems as though the band is riding the metronome at various speeds, but actually, the perceived metric modulations are all created by the notation, with the quarter note staying constant. The band was super tight in it's execution of all of these difficult ideas; this was a Sunday night, so obviously, they had five previous nights to solidify things. I was told that Los Guachos only plays about once a year now; with that in mind, it speaks to the level of virtuosity throughout the band.

Miguel Zenon

Other standout soloists were alto saxophonist Miguel Zenon, (who is a tremendous bandleader and composer in his own right), Urcola (who is a great trumpet player, but played one of the best valve trombone solos I've ever heard!), and Chris Cheek on baritone saxophone. Taylor Haskins, who is a wonderful improviser, held down the lead trumpet chair with precision and confidence; he has the high chops, but a beautiful, dark sound, not that sort of bright "screechy" lead sound that we tend to associate with that sort of thing. Virtuoso guitarist Ben Monder, strangely, did not have any solos.( I asked him why after the concert, and he jokingly replied," Hey, you're right! Why didn't I?)

I was actually quite impressed with the penultimate tune of the evening, which featured beautiful singing in Spanish by Klein. This first set ended with Klein's orchestration of the first movement of an Albert Ginastera Piano Sonata, which finally showcased off Kliein's pianistic ability, as well as his arranging skills. Urcola told me that they had recorded all the new music during the week, so I urge you to keep an eye out for the next recording from Guillermo Klein y Los Guachos.

Ted Panken Plays "Drop The Needle" for jazztruth

Ted Panken(sitting with Dr. Billy Taylor and Dave Douglas)

If you are a jazz fan, you've probably read something by Ted Panken in the last few decades. Panken writes often for Downbeat, Jazziz, and also has written many liner notes. Originally from Manhattan, Panken broadcast on WKCR in New York from 1985 up until 2009. Panken is a writer I really respect because he knows and loves the music. I was fortunate to convince him to do a "drop the needle" for jazztruth. (BTW, "drop the needle" has nothing to do with heroin addicts running from the police. It refers to the "needle" of a "record player", something we used to listen to music years ago before all of this wonderful digital technology…) Panken basically nailed it, and made some insightful comments about the music, as was expected and desired. (Note-some of the tracks listed have youtube links, so you can listen along...)

1."Free Cell Block F Tis Nazi USA"; Charles Mingus, Changes Two (1975);Charles Mingus -bass, Jack Walrath -trumpet, George Adams- tenor saxophone, Don Pullen-piano, Dannie Richmond -drums

TP: Mingus. This is the opening track on either CHANGES 1 or CHANGES 2 from 1974 or '75. Great melody and arrangement. One of my favorite Mingus bands, and certainly the one I saw most often -- 10-11 times, both in New York and Chicago. Great sardonic line... It's the band that introduced me to Mingus, with George Adams, Jack Walrath, Don Pullen and Dannie Richmond, each a rugged individualist and team player -- they play the charts properly (well, all of them had played in bands for years before joining Mingus) and let the soulfulness come out when it was time to solo. One of his most competent as well as most inspired bands. Maybe the title is "Remember Rockefeller at Attica." George Adams was such a great interpreter of Mingus' music...such a soulful, cogent, individualist. I dig the way Don Pullen digs into his solo, starting inside the harmony and swinging, and then transitioning into his signature percussive, speaking-in-tongues-on-the-piano, quasi Cecil Taylorisms. I miss both of them. Dannie Richmond, too -- so insouciant and in control. I miss personal sounds and unorthodoxy and university of the streets finishing schools... No Wally Cleavers need apply! 5 stars.

2."Lullabye Of Birdland"; Sarah Vaughn and Clifford Brown (1954)

TP: Sarah Vaughan, "Lullaby of Birdland." I know this track, of course. It's so iconic, it's hard to talk about without resorting to what everyone knows -- her voice is like an instrument, and she can anything she wants with it; he swings like a gate, etc. Brief piano solo by Jimmy Jones, I think, then Roy Haynes starts a series of exchanges with Sarah -- flute (can't remember who it was...maybe Herbie Mann), then Paul Quinichette in his light, quasi-Prez style, then Clifford Brown. Sarah's responses are musical, and she seamlessly segues back into the lyric.Anyway, it's perfection. Nothing else to say. This was a working trio (Joe Benjamin is on bass, I think), and I believe they'd toured a lot in 1954, when the recording was done. My two favorite Sarah recordings are for Roulette, one with a big band led by Benny Carter, the other an intimate date with George Duvivier and a pianist whose name escapes me right now. Both are around 1960-1962, when she was in her late thirties, and her chops and taste coexist in equal measure.

3."Mt. Harrissa"; Duke Ellington, Far East Suite (1966)


TP: Ellington. The piano trio intro first made me think of Money Jungle, but it's definitely not Max on drums, and the bassist is keeping the groove -- no "kill the father" here!! Intoxicating, exotic theme. I feel I know the melody, but I can't identify it. Love Ellington's left hand...just an incredible statement, and tossed off with utmost savoir faire and casualness. Then the saxes-against-brass come in. What an amazing sound -- I never get tired of Ellington Orch. ensemble passages. Certainly sounds like the latter '60s or early '70s, when Ellington was working with a broader template of rhythms... Plus, I'm more inclined to identify the drummer as Rufus Jones than Sam Woodyard. Ok, here's the tenor solo (2:10). Tonality sounds a little darker than Paul Gonsalves, which makes me think it's Harold Ashby....but then on the other hand, the passages from 3:05 to 3:15 seem to me to be more characteristic of Gonsalves...so I'll go with Paul Gonsalves as the tenor soloist. He plays off the band so beautifully. Somehow, I'm thinking of a reharmonized-refracted "Satin Doll" meets "Girl of Ipanema"... I love Ellington's long closing trio restatement, the way he addresses the Spanish tinge. I don't recall anything on the Latin American Suite that sounds like this, nor on the New Orleans Suite... Maybe it's from the Far East Suite. Whatever the case, it's yet another Ellington masterpiece.

4."Copenhagen";Fletcher Henderson (with Louis Armstrong)(1924)

TP: I don't recognize it, but given the shifting themes in the beginning, and the programmatic feel, not to mention the sonic quality of the recording, I'm assuming it's one of Jelly Roll Morton's mid-'20s sides in Chicago by the Red Hot Peppers. Wait...that bad-ass trumpet or cornet solo is Pops...or not? I don't recall any Hot Fives or Hot Sevens with that level of onomatopoeia -- or, for that matter, ensemble sophistication. Is that a bass sax playing that little repeating motif? (1:46 & 1:58) Hmm... then it might be King Oliver's Creole Jazz Band, in which a bass saxophonist named Charlie Jackson played. That band had similar ensemble values. The banjo is swinging -- Johnny St. Cyr? However, I'm not hearing the two cornets too prominently in the ensemble. The Jelly Roll Morton and Creole Jazz Bands aren't stamped in my muscle memory, so to speak, so I'm in a quandary.

AFTER COMMENT: I'm going to lose my card in the Louis Armstrong society. Brainlocked on his year with Fletcher, which is funny, since I was just writing about how the circumstances under which he met Earl Hines in 1925, directly after returning to Chicago from his year with Fletcher in NYC...but so it goes. I'm going to have to bone up on my '20s FH.

5."Moose The Mooche  "; Mel Lewis and Friends (1977); Ron Carter-bass, Hank Jones-piano, Freddie Hubbard-trumpet, Michael Brecker-tenor saxophone

TP: Charlie Parker's "Moose the Mooche." At first blush I thought it was from the 1979 recording GROOVIN' HIGH (Muse) with Hank Jones, Thad Jones, Charlie Rouse, Sam Jones & Mickey Roker from the "Groovin' High" album, which I think I know well...but then I realized that they didn't do "Moose the Mooche" on that date (he recorded it in the late '70s with the Great Jazz Trio for Japan and also for Muse with George Duvivier and Ben Riley). But also, the time shift on the trumpet solo -- sort of quasi-funky -- would make me doubt myself immediately. Nor do I t think Thad would quote "St. Thomas" at the top of his second chorus. Nor would Thad Jones emphasize the rhythm changes over the melody -- he'd be reharming it at the very least. Nor do I think Thad would get into that high note stuff -- it's more reminiscent of Jon Faddis than Thad. The tenor saxophone solo is sturdy, some virtuosic stuff around 2:35-2:50 -- very notey, sounds almost Breckerish, but I have no idea who it is. The bass pick-up dates the recording to before 1985. Now, the pianist could be Hank -- nice left hand, very witty, clever quotes, nice flow, extremely slick and urbane. What he's playing around 5:15-5:20 convinces me that it actually is Hank. The trumpet blast around 5:30 tells me that it's Freddie Hubbard -- can't be anyone else. He reinforces that at 5:50. Not Freddie's greatest effort here -- lots of chops, not so much content; the opening solo was sloppy. Faddis would have played with a more Dizzy-ish bent. Unfortunately, I'm not nuts about the bass solo (the bassist sounds bored) or the concluding drum solo -- I like a little more snap-crackle in my bebop...that goes for the drummer's time behind the solos. The whole thing sounds kind of dated, except Hank, who was always fresh and on top of things.

• AFTER COMMENT: In retrospect, I should have known it was Mel Lewis, who played here with the intention of orchestrating the flow on the fly as he would have done in the TJML Orchestra... After all, it was his record! But the chemistry wasn't quite right for it to work on this track.

6."A Time For Love";Bill Evans, Alone (1968)

TP: Solo piano. Makes me think of Bradley's third set, 2 in the morning. My first instinct is to say Bill Evans -- something about the touch and the voicings. I feel I should know the melody, but the title just won't come to mind...one of those hard-edged-yet-sentimental West Coast songs that I recoil from in the movie but get involved in when I hear a master improviser work with the harmony and remove the cheese. Actually, I think it's "A Time For Love". Johnny Mandel. In any event, I'm quite sure it's Bill Evans, and it's a tour de force. He spins such a poetic, logical web. Don't know what album it's from, though I'd guess 1967-70 as the period when he recorded it...this sort of song was topical then.

7."Teach Me Tonight"; Sammy Davis and Count Basie, Our Shining Hour (interesting note: recorded 1965, but Davis re-recorded his vocals in 1973 and then it was released)

TP: "Teach Me Tonight" by Sammy Cahn. Got to be the Atomic Era, New Testament Basie Band. With Sinatra...or is it Sinatra... Around 1:15 the timbre doesn't sound resonant enough to be Sinatra...and I think it's Sammy Davis signifying on Sinatra on OUR SHINING HOUR with the Quincy Jones charts. Is that Snooky Young taking the trumpet solo around 1:55? When the voice re-enters at 2:05, it's definitely Sammy being himself, and it's "Sammy Davis" til the end. But the Sinatra impression for the first minute was amazing -- pitch perfect. What's not to like about this track? I have to buy this record.

8."The Shadow Of Your Smile";Eddie Harris, The In Sound (1965); Cedar Walton-piano, Ron Carter-bass, Billy Higgins-drums

TP: "The Shadow of Your Smile" at a medium-bounce. At first I wasn't oriented as to whether the saxophonist was playing alto or tenor, but after a minute I realized that this is Eddie Harris' classic version from THE TENDER STORM, circa 1965, with Cedar Walton, Ron Carter and Billy Higgins, on perhaps the first time that this classic trio convened. I'm not crazy about the mix/remix -- I don't think Ron needs to be so high up in the mix, but that's just me. Deep swing. as a young guy in Chicago, Eddie Harris -- who came up playing piano in the church -- was a fan of Stan Getz -- and obviously Prez -- and took a lot of crap for this. He's one of the most subversive musicians ever. He knew how to connect with the public while not pandering or going overtly for house. At 2:36, check out how he gets a very trumpet-like sound out of the tenor...what control over the upper register! Lots of vocalized inflection as well. That squawk at 3:02! Or the way-up-in-the-altimissimo line at 4:02, that gradually winds down into mid register. Cedar's comping is super-hip -- check what he does around 3:32...just elegant, doesn't call attention to itself. An artist in complete control of his materials. And Billy Higgins is swing itself. What an original Eddie Harris was! After all, Muhal Richard Abrams was his pianist-of-choice through most of the '60s, and some of the stuff they recorded was way on the outer edge of things. 5 stars.

9."Never Will I Marry"; Nancy Wilson/Cannonball Adderley(1961);Nat Adderley-trumpet ,Joe Zawinul-piano, Sam Jones-bass, Louis Hayes-drums

TP: "Never Will I Marry." This is Nancy Wilson with Cannonball Adderley. Capitol Records, circa 1961 or 1962. Nice riffing behind her around 1:40 when she recapitulates the lyric. I dig the pungent timbre of her voice, the way she builds an emotional arc, conveying meaning in her initial rendering of the lyric through phrasing and deep swing, and then, after Cannonball's pithy solo, turning up the heat. Very tasty, to the point. Nice functional arrangement as well. I'm not as big a fan of hers as some, but she's such a pro, and such a distinctive voice. 4 stars.

 10."Carolina Shout "; James P. Johnson(1921)

TP: James P. Johnson's "Carolina Shout." Can't pinpoint the recording date, nor whether the performer is the composer or Fats Waller or Willie the Lion Smith. I think it's James P., though. There's a brisker, more percussive version of this by James P. that I favor, and I love Fats Waller's version, too, not to mention the video of Willie the Lion playing it with Osie Johnson on brushes. Club Barron in Harlem must have been quite a hang circa 1910. George Gershwin certainly thought so.

McCoy Tyner's Solo on Blues on The Corner

The great McCoy Tyner

OK, sports fans! I get the message. Based on my stat counter, there is considerable interest in transcribed solos. And, in my effort to try not to disappoint my readers, I have decided to keep the momentum going by digging up this McCoy Tyner transcription. It's from The Real McCoy, a classic album on Blue Note from the 60's featuring Tyner on piano, Joe Henderson on tenor saxophone, Ron Carter on bass, and Elvin Jones on drums. If you want the quintessential McCoy Tyner, this is the album to have.

Tyner has long been one of my favorite pianists: indeed, I felt as though I had to stop listening to him, in order to not sound like him so much.  However, sometimes it's more beneficial to go deeper into one's study of a particular artist, as opposed to developing a superficial imitation. With more in depth study, one can realize that "gee, I don't sound like my favorite jazz musician after all." I also felt, from an educational and academic standpoint, I wanted to see exactly what Tyner was doing, and document it, just to be thorough. It took some time-and if you see me in the vicinity of a piano, do NOT ask me to play this transcription, 'cause it's HARD.

One aspect that made my transcription of "Blues On The Corner" difficult was the left hand. It wasn't so much the notes as it was the rhythms. Oftentimes, piano solo transcriptions will omit the left hand. However, I believe the left hand gives an important look at what the pianist was thinking, and how the pianist "comps" for himself or herself. And in McCoy Tyner's case, his playing is very two-fisted. So that took extra time. Another thing that made this transcription challenging was the predominant triplet
rhythm of the piece. Sometimes, it was perplexing as to whether to notate a particular passage as swung eighth notes , or triplets, or in the case of double time, sixteenths. Finally, some of the right hand runs were so fast that even slowing the recording down to 25% speed didn't make it any easier. So only Tyner might actually know what he really played.

So here is is. As before, it's fun to listen along with the track while you follow the written music. And some of this solo really surprised me: for example, the left hand chords will be three note fourth voicings, and then all of a sudden switch to four note third voicings, which might be considered inconsistent, but it all sounds right- because all of the music has that magical "McCoy Tyner touch". Also, Tyner uses more augmented 4ths, whole tone scale, and diminished implying harmony that I realized. The pacing of the solo is great, and there is much use of motivic and harmonic development. Even just a bar or two of this solo can open up a whole world of ideas for you. Enjoy!

Hank Mobley's Solo on "Remember"

If you are trying to develop your vocabulary as a jazz improviser, you'll want to transcribe from other players, hopefully great jazz players. You can do entire solos if you have the time, but you should at the very least take some "licks" from the masters and work them into your own solos. You'll start to see how linear vocabulary works with jazz harmony, and if you really stick with it, it should all snowball into you being able to improvise in a jazz manner. The goal is to have your own sound, or at the very least, being able to "put it in your own words", so to speak. Be that as it may, it can be fun and valuable to transcribe an entire jazz solo. This can give you a sense of the overall structure of a solo, and it's a way for the student to sort of "step into the shoes of a master".

I personally haven't transcribed a lot of solos in their entirety. However, I wanted to share one that I did a few years ago. It's tenor saxophone legend Hank Mobley's solo on Irving Berlin's "Remember", from the classic Mobley album Soul Station (with Wynton Kelly, piano, Paul Chambers, bass, Art Blakey, drums). Here is a link to the recording on youtube. I've known about this album for years, but initially, it was hearing drummer Carl Allen sing this entire solo along with the recording that made me want to transcribe it. The whole album is great, and this solo is great because Mobley's lines make so much sense, and they outline the harmony perfectly.

I think this is a good solo for students because there are many small phrases which could be incorporated easily into one's vocabulary. I have marked some of these phrases in red. It's fun to just follow along while you listen, but the next step would be to learn to play along with the solo, or maybe take some of the small phrases and transpose them to all keys. Keep in mind, that I am not a saxophone player, so there might be some better ways to notate some of the idiosyncratic aspects of the solo. Also, some of the rhythms I had to approximate, because they were not 100 percent falling into western rhythmic notation. This is why it's good to learn solos by ear first, so that you get the organic rhythmic feel of the artist.

The first chorus is obviously the melody of "Remember", with rhythmic interpretation and also some embellishments. Mobley gets right to it with a two bar solo break pick up. There are lot of nice sequences (taking the same idea and repeating it but in a different key), which go well with the descending chromatic chord progression. It's all a really good example of Hard Bop, with a lot of "bebop" lines and some "bluesy" interludes. Around letter J,K, and L, which is the second improvised chorus, Mobley implies double-time, but in a complex way, which made it hard to notate. I mused about different options, and went with what you see here. Hopefully it makes sense. Again, it's best to listen to the solo as you read. I like how bar 120 and 121 have a nice diminished scale idea that feels really natural.


If you see anything that really looks wrong, let me know. I haven't looked at this in a while, and just like the written parts of my blog, I can always use some proofreading. I'm hoping to post more solos in the future, and I'm also hoping to get to some more transcribing this summer. I have a hard time doing entire solos nowadays because I find that I can get a lot of mileage out of even one bar from a masterful solo. But I'll have my keyboard with me on tour, so I'm hoping to get to it. So anyway,  here is Mobley's solo, enjoy!

Addendum To My James Williams Article

James Williams

Many of my readers seemed to enjoy my article about the late great pianist James Williams. What I forgot to include in that article was this little anecdote:

I lived in Brooklyn for much of my tenure in New York City.  I was living in Park Slope in the summer of 1999, and at the time, I was a little worried about gigs. As luck would have it,  bassist Lonnie Plaxico called me out of the blue to join the band of legendary jazz vocalist Cassandra Wilson. We would have nine straight weeks of touring in Japan and Europe. This would start in late September.  I was excited about it, and I felt as though my luck had taken a clear turn for the better.

Scene from 12 Angry Men, with Henry Fonda and  Jack Klugman

I had forgotten about the fact that I had gotten that dreaded jury duty notice in the mail earlier in the year. I had already deferred it twice, so at this point, I had no choice but to show up to the downtown Brooklyn courthouse to take my lumps. I had heard that most people spend a few days in court and then you're done. Most people don't even get put on a jury. However, I had also heard that occasionally, you get stuck on a jury for some murder case or something, and you could be sequestered for 6 months! I had nightmares about having to give up a major jazz tour because I was stuck in a scene from 12 Angry Men or something.

This might get you out of jury duty...

Anyway, I arranged to go in August, with the hopes that even if I was put on a jury, the trial would be over before my tour was set to start in September. I also thought that having an impending tour might be a good excuse as to why I shouldn't be put on a jury. I had also decided that I would say whatever I had to in order to appear biased, or just uncooperative. ("Your honor, if it pleases the court, I must recuse myself from this murder case. I cannot possible be unbiased, for you see, my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather was murdered by British soldiers in the Irish Uprising of October 1641. I'm still in mourning, as you can see, because I've just come from an Irish wake, and I'm drunk on Jameson...)

Matlock!

So I show up to the courthouse. It's full of colorful Brooklynites from all walks of life: almost every ethnic group in existence is represented. From West Indian civil service workers who are glad to have a day off, to WASPy Park Slope yuppies who are clearly annoyed to be there, to senior citizens who are hoping to get put on a case where Matlock is one of the attorneys, it's a motley crew to be sure. A judge enters the court and explains to us that this is our duty as citizens of the great U.S. of A. blah blah blah. We watch a short film about the logistics of it all, why this is important to our legal system, etc... I'm bored already, but also nervous that appearing bored will put me in contempt of court somehow.

And then I look to my left, and I notice a familiar profile sitting a few benches over: lo and behold, it's jazz pianist James Williams! I immediately go sit next to him. We greet each other and talk about the funny coincidence that we both should be there on the same day. Williams also had a similar dilemma as I did, in that he had a tour which began at the end of the week, and he could not risk being put on a jury and jeopardize his gig.

Now would be the time to tell you what I was told by some of my musician friends; anytime they got a letter from Kings County requesting their presence at jury duty, they promptly threw it in the trash. I considered doing this, but fear of repercussions was too much for me. I've been told you could get fined up to 1000 dollars. Maybe some have done jail time, who knows? I think it's the sort of thing where they have so many people, maybe too many, that do show up for jury duty, that it's probably a waste of resources to actually enforce making people show up if they don't want to go. 

Anyway, back to my day in court: Williams and I were sitting there, chatting, when they made the announcement that they were collecting the jury duty notices that we had received in the mail, so that they could keep track of who had shown up that day. At that point, Williams got quiet, and he seemed to be planning his escape. "I think I'm just going to go home," he said. " Can you call me later and tell me what happened?" I said I would and Williams got up and sneaked out of the room. I was thinking of following suit when the bailiff took my jury duty notice. "Damn, I guess I'm stuck here...."

Luckily, I did not get put on a jury, probably because I just tried to look angry when the attorneys talked to me. I said I was self employed, and that every moment in the courthouse was taking away from my business, and that I could not be impartial, because I would only make my decision based on how quickly I could get the hell out of there. So I was there for 2 days waiting around, and then I got a card saying they wouldn't call me again for at least another 4 years, thank the Lord.

I called Williams later that day and told him what happened, and that he shouldn't worry about it, since they had more than enough people who seemed to want to be on a jury, just to give them a momentary escape from their miserable city jobs. Williams seemed relieved. I thought about what it must be like for African-Americans to be asked to serve in a country that for so long has made a point of not serving them, to put it lightly. I could understand why black people would want to just throw their jury notices in the trash. And even I, a white person, was offended by the lawyers who would have us serve on the jury for their slip-and-fall lawsuit, taking precious time out of our lives for 40 dollars a day while they get 200 bucks an hour. Yeah, I know the whole jury-of-your-peers thing....whatever. I just remember when on a classic episode of The Simpsons, Attorney-at-Law Lionel Hutz makes a remark to Lisa Simpson: "If there is one thing we need, its more lawyers. Can you imagine a world without lawyers?" Cut to people of all races around the world holding hands in peace......

"Can You Imagine A World Without Lawyers?"

The David Berkman Interview

David Berkman is a jazz pianist who in the past few decades has played with many of the major names in jazz, including Tom Harrell, Cecil McBee, and the Vanguard Orchestra. He has released a number of CDs on the Palmetto Label, although his latest, Live At Smoke, is on Challenge Records. Berkman has developed a great reputation as an educator; he recently joined the faculty of Queens College, and has two critically acclaimed educational books available. I was fortunate to study composition with Berkman, and I consider him a friend; I have regarded him as a good source of advice over the years. Berkman has a lot to say and is very articulate, but he's also quite down to earth. I had a few questions for him, and he answered them with expected aplomb.

GC: What are your earliest memories of music? 

DB: When I was about three years old I had a little toy record player. It was red. I'd play little kid type of records on it--a lot of Britten I think... No that's not true--it was your usual little kid stuff about buses and the wheels that propel them. But my dad had a lot of 45s because he was a big jazz fan and an amateur piano player and I remember he gave me one that I would put on all the time and laugh. It just sounded so crazy to me with all these wild horns playing really fast. Nutty! I can still picture the cover of the recording which had geometric shapes, diamonds on it. Years later I saw the cover somewhere and found out it was a Dizzy Gillespie record. I'd like to say that I was so hip as a 2- and 3-year old that I was way into Dizzy but that really would be stretching things.

Oscar Peterson

Jazz was always present in my life. My dad used to encourage me to become a bass player (because he wanted someone to play with) and when I was very little I thought that sounded like a good idea. But after a while I got the sense that the bass would be in the background supporting the piano player in the duo. (I'm not dissing bassists here--just saying how it seemed to a little kid who was being steered toward the bass by his father the pianist.) After all, my dad was always listening to Oscar Peterson, Tommy Flanagan, Bill Evans, Hank Jones, Wynton Kelly--it was the pianists that seemed to be the center of attention, so I figured that I would prefer to be a piano player.

My father had 112 Oscar Peterson records and a good stereo with a multiple record changer on it, and he'd stack records on it so that from the time he got home until the time he went to bed, Ray Brown (or someone else) was walking (except when the records would occasionally fall wrong and there would just be a screeching noise and a kind of repeated rumbling. Ah, Nostalgia!)

Actually, the music went later into the night than that. When my father went to bed he'd put on WCUY(a commercial radio station that lasted until I was in high school before going country) and the jazz would continue all night long. 

I also heard a lot of classical music. I was born in Cleveland and the Cleveland Orchestra is a very important cultural institution there. (What's the difference between Cleveland and the Titanic--Cleveland has a better orchestra...) From an early age I heard concerts of orchestral and chamber music and my father was a lawyer for the orchestra members when they went on strike so we had a lot of connections to them.

GC: Do you consider yourself "self-taught" or "trained" or both?

DB: I had some training but I was never very serious about it when I was young. I started playing jazz early (11 or so--I'd been playing piano since I was 8) with a great teacher and player named Hugh Thompson, but he moved to Toronto and then I went back to studying classical music in a not very disciplined way. When I was a youngster, I didn't have teachers that I really liked and that never really clicked for me. Also, I've always preferred learning things by ear and classical teachers didn't have much use for that back then. So I dabbled and moved between both worlds. By the time I was in high school, I was playing some gigs. To give me a dose of the life a musician could look forward to, my father always insisted that I should take any gig that I was called for (polkas, weddings, piano bars on New Year's eve when the guy who had been playing and singing there for the last 10 years got sick at the last minute.) I definitely got myself into a lot of rocky situations. Still, on balance that wasn't a bad attitude to have. I occasionally have students now who are really afraid of getting out and gigging and that always surprises me. What's the worse that can happen? I've probably already had that experience.

Still, at a certain point I got more serious. I went to Berklee for a few semesters when I was about 20. I had always been the best jazz piano player my age at least that I knew (or one of the best) but when I got to Berklee I realized I had a lot to learn. I studied with a teacher there who was kind of a jerk, but I worked hard. And I heard students like Dave Kikoski and many others and I started to measure myself against a much higher standard. Also, I was very fortunate to have Bob Mover, the great alto player, as an ensemble leader. He took me around to sessions and just hung out with me. Actually, it was after a Bob Mover gig that I finally decided to become a full time jazz pianist (i was an exchange student at Berklee and I was still going for an English Literature degree at the University of Michigan at the same time.) I had just heard Bob play with pianist Albert Dailey and I was walking home at 3 in the morning and I said to myself: I could just keep doing this--practicing, playing and hearing music. I'd always assumed that at some point I'd have to stop and get a real job. That was a kind of epiphany for me.

One last thing-- In addition to the jazz teachers that I was studying with at Berklee, I began studying classical piano technique  a lot more seriously and that continued for the next 12 years or so.

GC: How important was moving to New York City to your musical development?

DB: Extremely. I had always thought I'd move to New York. I liked all of it--the urban-ness, being able to hear all of your musical heroes any time, Brooklyn, the vibe, the all-night hanging out. (I think there was a lot more of that in NYC in the past, but it might be I am aging out of the all-night hanging club). I was living in Cleveland and playing gigs from age 21 or 22 to 25 or so. I got to work with older players there that showed me a lot of things, people like Jamey Haddad, Greg Bandy, Bill DeArango and Willie Smith (a fine alto player, but not the more famous Willie Smith). A lot of those musicians were amazing, but the bands never really sounded right, or I should say, they often didn't. There weren't enough strong players on every instrument. There might be a great swinging bassist, but he might not want to read, or the drummer that you hook up with really well couldn't make the gig and you only had a few other choices. I was really into bebop back then, trying to play like Bud and then later Wynton, but maybe the drummer was more of a funk guy and there was an electric bassist on the gig and you are trying to play "Bouncing with Bud" or something.

When I got to New York, I was suddenly part of a rich jazz community. There were people my age, older and younger that would come over and play sessions and there were people into exactly what I was into musically. And as I moved through that community, I found people that I felt more and more connections with. First players like Rich Perry, Andy Watson, Eliot Zigmund and Tony Scherr, and later Joel Frahm, Matt Wilson, Chris Cheek, Brian Blade, Ugonna Okegwo, Dick Oatts and on and on. I formed bands with people, wrote music and played other people's music and of course still do all that. The names keep changing, but the wonderful thing about living in NY is that almost every time you go to play a gig or a jam session, you might meet someone that could become a close musical partner down the line.--the next person that will show you something that you need to pursue on your own musical path. That doesn't happen as much in other places, I don't think.

GC: How do you juggle your career as an educator and a performer?

Michael Phillip Mossman

Antonio Hart

Well, I am glad that I wasn't an educator for a substantial period of my life in New York. I was lucky to be here and play and struggle and it helped that I had a cheap apartment and I didn't really mind about not having any money. I started teaching more about 10 years ago and I was willing to sacrifice some of my practice and playing time to worry less about money. And I do really enjoy teaching and helping younger players get clearer about how to grow as musicians. But I was already over 40 then, so it felt like a good exchange. I am also very fortunate to be teaching in a great place, at Queens College in Flushing with Antonio Hart and Michael Phillip Mossman. I've been here for two years and really like the program and the faculty. 

On the one hand, teaching does take a lot of energy but there are a lot of rewards. First of all, it's a cliche but I learn a lot from students. I learn from them by watching their mistakes and trying to explain my own learning process, and I learn from them because they cause me to go back and re-examine things in my own playing that I haven't thought about in a while. And of course, i learn from them because some of them are amazing players with different strengths and weaknesses than I have, so they show me things and sometimes there is that kind of exchange as well. Also, the fact is, that when I was coming up in Cleveland a lot of older players helped me and tried to guide me to becoming a better player so I feel like that's an appropriate job for a piano player in his 50s to have.

Also, University folk get a lot of time off. I can take time to tour and do gigs both during the year (if necessary, although there has to be a balance there) and in summers and winters. Recently I've been booking a lot of gigs (in Japan, Korea and Europe) during January and the summer months when school is out of session.

But there are some dues to be paid here occasionally. Moving between periods of intense playing and less playing, more teaching/practicing is always challenging. You always want to use your time as well as you can, but we're human. Still, I am grateful that I have a good situation that really suits me.

GC:  What is your philosophy of jazz education? What do you think about people like Phil Woods saying things like " We're producing too many people with jazz degrees and not enough listeners"?

DB: I don't want to diss anyone's perspective, but I have to confess I am a little tired of musicians dissing jazz schools. The reason why there are so many jazz schools is because a lot of people want to study and play jazz. Period. If students would stop attending jazz schools, they'd all close. We haven't sold students a bill of goods here, they come of their own free will. It would be great if there were more jazz listeners, but the world is changing and the situation for live performance of all music, but particularly jazz, is somewhat precarious. I wasn't exactly encouraged to be a jazz musician when I was younger, but I chose it anyway. That's the thing about making the direction of your life--you get to pick. I have even less sympathy for students who go to jazz schools and then complain when they get out that they are having a hard time making a living....Come on, how naive do you have to be? If you go into the arts, money might be a problem. If you are reading this blog and haven't heard this idea before, I am really glad I can break the news to you.

But, if you are an idealistic person and want to try to dedicate yourself to doing something that you think you will love even though you probably won't get rich doing it, okay, go for it. It is too bad though, that the kind of learning I had, coming up in a town learning from older players, is less available to young musicians today. Still, we try to simulate some of that experience in Universities and sometimes, something of that feeling of transmission does occur.

GC:  You've written two books. Can you tell us about them and what motivated you to write them?

DB: Actually, I wrote a third one called Jazz Harmony due out in the fall or winter this year. My favorite of the three is the first one because that one was the most personal. It's called The Jazz Musician's Guide to Creative Practicing. I have always liked to write--I thought about becoming a novelist when I first went to college--and I was on a plane one day and just started writing. I was flying back from Holland (actually it was the week when you (GC) and I were involved in that teaching week in Groningen, Netherlands. I'd taught about 4 master classes and the topic in many of them was how to organize your practicing: what to practice, how to practice, how to get rid of stress, how to break down big, hard problems into small solvable ones, how to make practicing fun and explorative. I think that many students don't think intelligently about how to practice. Anyway, I started writing that book and it was very enjoyable. I tried to put in a lot of jokes and anecdotes because I like those sorts of things, and I told stories about what kind of experiences I had coming up playing with older players, things they told me and experiences that meant a lot to me. And I tried to write practice sessions into the book--"Giant Steps", spelling changes better, playing melodies, working on your ears. So that was that book.

The second book, The Jazz Singer's Guidebook came out of my experience teaching singers at Queens and in the Netherlands. I felt that many singers aren't really prepared well for the demands that jazz schools place on them, but if they had a more systematic approach to working on playing the piano, hearing and singing over chord changes, they could develop a more consistent and "instrumental" approach to jazz study. That book has less jokes in it, but that might be because the whole book was lost on a defective hard drive and I had to start over, which I did, re-writing it in about 10 days.  But I am a kind of obsessive writer once I get at it.

I hope that is a useful book for singers and I've heard from some that say it is, but there are a lot of singers who are not willing or not interested in doing that level of work. They'd rather be intuitive or they are not that interested in improvising over chord changes. That's fine--I don't really care whether anyone takes it on or not--I just felt that if I was going to teach vocalists about jazz and improvisation, I should help them find a method that was geared to their needs as vocalists. That's what that book is.

The new one, "Jazz Harmony" came out of a trend I was seeing in piano students. Whenever you see a video of an older pianist demonstrating the changes of a tune, whether it's Bill Evans in the video interview with his brother or Hank Jones on Youtube, to cite two things I've seen recently, they play a lot of variations, passing chords, tritone substitutes, diminished chords or diminished passing notes. When you see a young student play changes, they often play the changes they learned from a Real Book. These same students might be comfortable playing in 13/4, but their harmony can be a bit static. So, this book is about a living sense of harmony that you hear in standard playing of people like Cedar Walton, Mulgrew Miller, Oscar Peterson. In the second half of the book I talk more about non-functional harmonic approaches that you hear in some of these players but also in people like Richie Beirach and Herbie Hancock. I've always been fascinated by harmonic color so and I teach a two course series on Jazz Harmony at Queens so this is my take on that.

I'm thinking this book is going to be a big hit and I'm already seeing George Clooney playing me in the movie version, but I may be kidding myself there.

GC: Do you think the "traditional" jazz press is still relevant? Why or why not?

DB: Wow, that's a toughie. I think we have to do what we have to do. Hmmm...maybe that's a little lame as an answer but I don't have a very dynamic relationship to jazz press. I  am not much of a consumer of it. It's necessary to try to get your projects publicized--it helps you book more gigs. There are some good writers out there and it's always nice when someone seems to get what you were going for, so reviews can certainly be positive things. I like many of the jazz writers I know, like Neil Tesser, Bill Milkowski, Jim Macnie, Ben Ratliff, David Adler, your good friend Thomas Conrad, Nate Chinen, Richard Kamins (--now you guys have to all write great reviews of my next record!) 

However, there's a lot less traditional jazz press than there was. There used to be more articles in newspapers and now there's a lot more on the web. And the presence of blogs like yours and Ethan's are amazing--to have players on your level writing consistently about jazz is truly a great thing. The problem with new media in general is that the reader has to be more active. You have to go out and get it and that can take up a lot of your time, so I am not consistent in reading everything that's  out there. I even occasionally miss an installment of "Jazztruth" I am embarrassed to admit.

Also, with traditional press, a review in Downbeat or the New York Times (or even better, NPR or Entertainment Weekly or something beyond the jazz world) there is a certain status that attaches to that review. I mean, do people still care about that? I'm not sure, but I think the New York Times still has a certain weight in your press kit. So I guess it matters, a little.

GC:  Any upcoming projects you want us to know about?

DB: Yes! I will have another David Berkman Quartet record, Live at Smoke 2: Judgment Day coming out next year. (I'm not dead set on the subtitle, but it does have a nice action movie feel.) There should be some gigs with that band in the Midwest next spring. Also I have a trio and a solo record in the works and some touring planned around those as well.  

I'm playing with a collaborative band called the New York Standards Quartet that just released it's second CD, this one on Challenge Records. That band features Tim Armacost, sax and flute; Gene Jackson, drums and Yosuke Inoue, bass. All the music is based on standards, but the writing is sometimes fairly extreme. We do arrangements based on standards and compositions that are in some way drawn from a particular standard. That band is doing some touring in the US next spring as well as tours in Japan and Spain. 

And whatever else comes up. I've been playing with some great players and we're all looking around to see what happens next. I'm cautiously optimistic...

http://www.davidberkman.com/