This week I got the sad news thatPete
Rugolohas died. Rugolo was a
composer, arranger and bandleader, and an influential figure in
modern jazz.
Rugolo is probably best known for his iconic work with Stan Kenton.
Rugolo's tenure marked the band's transition from playing simple
dance music to being one of the most progressive big bands in the
history of jazz. Rugolo wasn't alone; Bill Holman and Bill Russo
were also actively writing for Kenton in those years, but it was
Rugolo who became perhaps most closely associated with the "Kenton
sound" of that era. He combined elements of jazz and 20th century
symphonic music to produce works that were quite sophisticated and
complex.
WhenJune
Christyleft the Kenton organization
to pursue a solo career she called on Rugolo to do the arrangements
and lead the band for her first album, “Something
Cool”. Rugolo's distinctive style was as important to her
sound as it was to Kenton’s, and they recorded a number of
albums that together define her best work.
He also worked with Nat King Cole, Billy Eckstine, Mel Torme, and
many other notable performers during his long career.
Rugolo did a stint in Hollywood doing film scores and television
themes. One of his most well known arrangements was a jazzy
reinterpretation of the "Leave it to Beaver" theme song, used for
that show's final season. His Hollywood work was not as inventive
as what he did for the great jazz bands and singers, but they still
stand out amongst the tepid work normally associated with that
town.
One of my favorite Rugolo arrangements for Stan Kenton was "Love
For Sale." He did the original arrangement in the 1950s, and Kenton
would perform it regularly over the years. Here is Kenton's 1977
version of Rugolo's work:
In this arrangement of "Lazy Afternoon" for June Christy you can
clearly hear the influence of modern classical music on Rugolo's
work:
Here's a sample of some of his Hollywood work, "Who's Sam" from the
television show "Richard Diamond":
Here's Rugolo's modernistic interpretation of Claude Debussy's
"Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun", performed by the Knoxville
Jazz Orchestra:
Finally, one of Rugolo's most well known compositions for Stan
Kenton, "Artistry In Percussion":
The latter part of September marks the birth - and the death - of
an immensely influential, if not terribly recognized,
musician:Hank
Levy.
Hank started out as a baritone sax player but made his mark as a
composer/arranger for Stan Kenton, Don Ellis, and Sal Salvador. His
specialty was 'odd' time signatures that often changed during the
song, making for very complex compositions. It was his association
with the extremely forward-thinking Ellis that perhaps most
influenced his love of unusual times, where Ellis was a true
pioneer.
Ellis' compositions tended to be raw, obviously difficult yet still
exciting, still 'swinging'. Levy took that same energy but put it
into compositions that were a bit more subtle. I remember reading a
comment that Levy was the 'commercialized' version of Ellis, a
criticism I think unfair particularly given the number of his
charts that Ellis recorded. Take 'Chain Reaction', from Ellis'
'Connection' album:
Levy wrote quite a number of songs and the last few Kenton albums
were heavily populated by them.I featured
a live Kenton version of 'Chiapas'in this blog some time back,
but that was far from his only contribution to the Kenton legacy.
One of his more sedate compositions for the Kenton orchestra, in
the unusual-for-Levy-becuase-it's-not-unusual 4/4 time signature,
transforms from a plaintive ballad to an absolute burner: 'A Smith
Named Greg', from the superb 'Kenton '76' album.
Some of his compositions are rare; I'm still looking for a copy of
his only work with Bill Watrous, titled "Bread and Watrous".
Luckily, though, the bulk of his work with Ellis and Kenton is
generally available. I'll leave you with my favorite Levy tune and
one of my all-time favorite Kenton recordings, 'Time For A Change'
- which (if memory serves from personally playing it back in '79)
was actually notated as 6+3. Enjoy!
The reaction to last week's Surprise was, well, a little
surprising. I had no idea there were so many June Christy fans out
there, and not all of them old geezers like yours truly. (Can
someone of barely 50 years legitimately call himself a geezer?) I'm
really quite happy about that, as it shows that perhaps the
unadorned human voice may yet win out over AutoTune!
In reality there aren't many singers I like listening to, making
her one of a very select few. I should clarify: there aren't
manyjazz singersI like listening to, because
jazz to me is about the music, not the lyrics. It therefore takes a
very special vocalist to capture my attention and make me focus on
the voice rather than the instruments. June Christy did that.
Another who can do that, and more consistently even than Miss
Christy, is Stacey Kent. Stacey is an American who lives (with her
musician husband) in Europe. She ended up there not because she
intended to become a singer, but because she had just graduated
with a degree in comparative literature and decided that England
would be a nice vacation.
While there she started singing informally and, buoyed by the
reception, enrolled in London's famous Guildhall School of Music.
There she met tenor saxophonist Jim Tomlinson, whom she would later
marry, and started singing with him. Her unusual voice and phrasing
quickly garnered a devoted fan base and won over critics. She's
been recording and performing non-stop ever since.
Stacey's style is unique and instantly recognizable. I can't recall
ever hearing anyone quite like her, and I think she’s one of
the best things to happen to jazz in a long time.
Her first albums were mostly of standards that were simply done
incredibly well, making even an old Cole Porter tune like "It's Too
Darn Hot" sound fresh and interesting:
A
couple of weeks agoI talked about the movie
"State Fair"; one of the best tunes to come from it is also one of
my all-time favorites: "It Might As Well Be Spring". I wrote an
arrangement of it in college, but my version was utterly
forgettable; hers isn't. It's set with a bit of a lilting bossa
nova beat that is incredibly effective (and something I wasn't
creative enough to think of):
Kent doesn't just do the familiar; here she is singing "The Ice
Hotel", an original collaboration between husband Tomlinson and
novelist Kazuro Ishiguro. It's fast becoming one of my
most-listened tracks:
Very few singers can take on the signature tune of another artist
and make it their own. Stacey does just that on a song nearly
synonymous with Louis Armstrong, who first recorded it in 1968.
Fans of the movie "Good Morning, Vietnam" will instantly recognize
"What A Wonderful World", but you've never heard it quite like
this:
Kinda makes you forget ol' Satchmo completely, doesn't it?
There's lots more of her work on YouTube, and of course iTunes has
her albums. Give her a listen, and I think you'll become a fan like
me.
In 1945 Stan Kenton's capricious vocalist, Anita O'Day, quit to
rejoin Gene Krupa's band. Stan needed a singer, and out of the
auditions he held one stood out: a girl name Shirley Luster. He
hired her and after a name change to the more stage friendly June
Christy, she would become the singer perhaps best associated with
the avant-garde Kenton orchestra.
In the beginning the young Christy looked and sounded a lot like
her predecessor, but without the drug problems and erratic behavior
issues that plagued O’Day. Her resemblance (and reliability)
may have had a lot to do with her being hired, but she soon found
her own unique voice and became a favorite of both the band and the
fans. Though she stopped touring with the band in 1953, she would
sing with Kenton off and on until the mid-60s.
After her retirement in 1965 she recorded only a single album, a
hard-to-find work that was released in 1977. She died in 1990, at
the relatively young age of 65.
I've read interviews with her in which she downplayed both her
abilities and her importance to the jazz world. She simply didn't
believe that her work, both with Kenton and solo, was of great
musical value and that attitude no doubt had a lot to do with her
decision to quit singing. The ironic thing is that she was not only
the singer perhaps most associated with Kenton, but her solo debut
album "Something Cool" is today regarded as one of the seminal
vocal albums of the cool jazz movement that swept across the
country in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s.
Not bad for someone who insisted she wasn’t a jazz
singer!
This 1963 recording of "Fly Me To The Moon" showcases her unique
style most effectively (despite the bad audio quality of the
YouTube upload):
Gone but hardly forgotten, her most recent gig was on the show
'Family Guy', where her recording of the song "Give Me The Simple
Life" was presented to a new generation:
I haven't talked much about music lately, despite it being an
important part of life -- not just mine, but everyone's. It's
because of the importance of music to our social and intellectual
development that I despair for the musical literacy of our country;
American Idol has conditioned the population to consume the musical
equivalent of fast food, substituting quantity and glitz for
quality and interpretative insight. (It’s sad when a vocalist
vying for national attention can’t sing in tune, a basic
requirement that seems to elude virtually all of their contestants.
Hey, but they look good on camera!)
While most apparent in the pop music genre, this lessening of
audience discernment occurs in the classical and jazz worlds as
well (though to a lesser extent.) There are musicians and singers
who become sensations despite not being at the top of their game,
and others whose prodigious talent goes unfathomably ignored.
An example of the latter is jazz trumpeter Claudio Roditi.
Originally from Brazil, he moved to the U.S. in the '70s and has
been hard at work ever since. Virtually unknown to the casual jazz
listener but held in high regard by other musicians, he continually
surprises with the complexity of his improvisation. While some
players can concoct equally sophisticated solos, Roditi does it
musically; in other words, his playing is still listenable, still
"swings", while having great depth and displaying superb
technique.
Still he remains a somewhat obscure. This might be because his
subtle style gets lost when relegated to mere background music. To
appreciate what he's doing one must actively listen (which is, in
my never to be humble opinion, the case with all good music.)
Here for your active listening pleasure is Claudio Roditi at his
best: "Gemini Man", from a great 2007 live session with pianist
Helio Alves, bassist Leonardo Cioglia, and drummer Duduka da
Fonseca. Happy weekend!
Not being triskaidekaphobic, I normally don't pay much attention to
Fridays that happen to fall on the thirteenth of the month. This
particular Friday, however, is a little different: it was Friday,
May 13th in 1988 that the jazz world lost one of its more talented
members in a very odd manner.
Chet
Bakerwas a trumpet player of
uncommon talent. His phrasing, often chided as being 'feminine',
stood in stark contrast to the edgier playing of many of his
contemporaries. His solos were deceptively simple to the
uninitiated, but showed a sophistication that is intriguing even
today. Miles Davis got all the attention, but it was Chet Baker who
was more interesting to listen to.
Chet also sang, and in later years tended to do that more than play
his horn. His singing was what attracted the crowds, but wasn't
nearly as inspiring as what he could do with his horn.
He struggled with heroin addiction for most of his adult life,
which drained him physically and landed him in jail on numerous
occasions. He managed to get himself thrown out of a couple of
countries, and at one point was reported to have lived on the
street. Like Charlie Parker, he was known for pawning his horns to
buy the drugs he craved. Despite all that, he managed several
comebacks -- the most notable being in the late 1970s.
He fell to his death on this day in 1988 from a second-story hotel
room in Amsterdam. The death was apparently accidental, and it was
determined that he was high on both heroin and cocaine at the
time.
Here are two clips -- one early, one late -- showing Chet at his
best. Happy Friday the Thirteenth!
Since this is a holiday weekend, the customary end of summer, I
thought a little more music was in order. Why not celebrate with
another Stan Kenton piece?
This one, recorded in 1977, features my favorite incarnation of the
Kenton group - with a number of local (to me) connections.
Lead trombonist Dick Shearer, as I mentioned last time, retired to
my hometown - where I'd gone to high school with the brother of
Kenton's baritone sax player, Alan Yankee. Stan's drummer, Gary
Hobbs, also settled in Oregon. The trombone soloist on this piece,
Jeff Uusitalo, eventually made his home just across the river in
the Vancouver (Washington) area - where the sax soloist, Terry
Layne, grew up and went to high school.
Small world. But, asSteven
Wrightreminds us, “I
wouldn’t want to have to paint it.”
Have a good weekend, and don’t be surprised if I take Monday
off!
You're
reading... The Revolver Liberation
Alliance! The blog about revolvers,
training, self-defense, and shooting in general (along with an
occasional surprise!)