Wednesday, 5 April 2017

Sepia Cinderella

There is an interesting article about the film Sepia Cinderella on Mark Cantor's website Celluloid Improvisations.


The music for the film, in part, was provided by Mercer Ellington.

Below is an extract from the article about Mercer Ellington and his Orchestra.The full text of part 1 of this fascinating feature may be accessed here.


Mercer Ellington and his Orchestra 


For many years nobody questioned the presence of Walter Fuller’s orchestra in the film. Some mistakenly pointed to the Hines' trumpet star, but nobody questioned the main credit given to Fuller. The only recognizable musician was Budd Johnson, and it was assumed that he was a member of the Fuller band. As it turned out, by research twists obscure and not obvious, it is indeed Mercer Ellington’s big band! 


Mercer Ellington formed his first band in 1939; an article in the Baltimore Afro-American (August 1939) refers to “Mercer Ellington’s newly formed orchestra.” The band seen in the film, however, was assembled sometime in the spring of 1946, then booked at the Apollo Theater for the week of June 15, 1946 in a program that also included the Deep River Boys (vocal harmony group), The Clark Brothers (tap dancers) and Spider Bruce (comedian). A year later, on July 7, 1947, the band had a gig at Sparrow Beach in Annapolis. 



The band’s recordings are somewhat obscure: two issued sides for Musicraft recorded on May 17, 1947, and two more for the Sunrise label in May 1947. 



Mercer Ellington’s orchestra returned to the Apollo Theater for a program the week of June 15, 1946, and Mercer was still performing with the big band in late 1951. Ellington researcher David Palmquist cited a newspaper article that Mercer was disbanding, and going to work for his father as an advance man in 1952. Furthermore, Palmquist notes, it is possible that Mercer disbanded and reformed new units during this six year period. 



The key to solving the problem was string bassist Al McKibbon, a good friend who watched the film with me and recognized drummer Percy Brice. I contacted Percy Brice, who first stated that this was Mercer Ellington’s band. 



In a telephone interview (7/24/01), Percy Brice recalled, 



“I was the drummer on Benny Carter's band, and we broke up in Boston, in October 1946. I recall going with Mercer Ellington's band right away, but you say the film was made in December '46, and others have told me it was early in '47. But I really don't know, that was over fifty years ago. Anyway, the band was Mercer Ellington's, but Gil Fuller, he was the musical director. Now I've heard people say some things about him that were, well, not really very complimentary. But I have to say that he was always real, real nice to me.” 



“As I remember, Candy [Ross] and Charlie [Johnson] were on Benny’s band with me, and we moved over to Mercer. I wasn't with the band for that long, maybe just one or two gigs. I recall one at the Hampton Institute out in New Jersey. We had Ray Copeland and Sonny Stitt and Chippy Outcalt on the band ..... hey, and never any strings. They must have been added for the movie.” 



“After leaving Mercer I joined Johnny Otis for a traveling show, a great show, featuring June Richmond, the Ink Spots, Coles and Atkins .... and Cholly Atkins's wife, Dottie Saulter. Lewis and [Slappy] White were on the tour, too. Let’s see, after that I worked with “Cleanhead” Vinson, and the band was a good one. Then I worked with Hal Singer --- do you remember “Cornbread?” --- and the featured trumpet player was Blue Mitchell, years before he joined Horace [Silver].” It was Percy Brice who suggested that, “along with Budd, I think that is Bo McCain on tenor sax.” 



In a telephone interview (10/03) tenor saxophonist Alva “Bo” McCain recalled the genesis of the Mercer band: 



“I was with Christopher Columbus’s band, it was around 1946-47, and we were playing at Small’s Paradise. Columbus left to go with Louis Jordan, and his son [sic] Sonny Payne took his place, at least for a while. So we changed our name and called ourselves “The Madmen.” We had Ray Copeland (he came in a bit later), Harold Mitchell, Don Cole, Elwyn Frazier and Fletcher Allen. And me on tenor sax. The rhythm section changed a lot during this time. Anyway, this was the band that Mercer took over, although the only one, other than me, who may be in your the film is Don Cole, because there was a lot of turnover at first.” 



“This was an early big band job for me in New York, and I didn’t know many of the men when I showed up. Of course, I was familiar with Budd Johnson, and I might have met Percy Brice. But I recall meeting Bill Pemberton when we made the film. I didn’t know anyone else and can’t recall them after so many years. To the best of my memory, we got together and rehearsed for the film and did the recording and filming, but I don’t recall that we ever played in public.”  



Bo McCain also recalled that Luther Henderson was with the band, and suggested that I give him a call. I had known Luther for many years, and had never associated him with the Mercer Ellington band. In a telephone interview in the fall of 1996, Henderson noted, “I was with Mercer for quite some time, but it was an on-and-off sort of thing because the band was not working all that much. I did some recordings with Mercer, but that is not me in the movie, that’s Hank Jones.” 



In a telephone interview on November 22, 2003, Hank Jones spoke of his time with Mercer Ellington: 



“I was on that band and I certainly do remember the film, but not much about it. I don't recall ever having seen it. I wasn't with this band a long time .... soon after the film I played with the John Kirby Sextet, and you tell me they are in the film, too. Who knows? Maybe that's why Kirby thought of me when he needed a replacement for Billy Kyle.  



Actually, the band was just Mercer's in name .... he was just the leader in name. Gil Fuller .... it was his band, and he was the musical director. He also did the arrangements and put together the band for the film. The strings certainly were just added for the film, to make the band sound a little fuller for Billy and the girl singer. What was her name again? [Sheila Guyse] 



I don't recall the band playing in public, at least during the time I was with it. We did rehearse for the film, and I remember meeting Bill Pemberton for the first time at the gig.” 



The careful reader will obviously note that there is a conflict between what Hank Jones has to say about the nature of the band, and the recollections of those who have been previously quoted. The best that I can say is that this is a conflict that cannot be resolved at the present time. 



Band Personnel 



The instrumentation of the band on screen is unusual, to say the least, and it is probable that there were additional men added to the soundtrack sessions. The reeds and rhythm section are standard for the period, with three violins added for the film appearance. The brass, on the other hand, is composed of three trombones and one trumpet, and it is possible that the trumpet may occasionally sideline on trombone. The following is the band’s personnel as currently known:

  • unidentified trumpet

  • three trombones, from among the following, possibly in left-to-right order: probably Charlie Johnson; Candy Ross; possibly Alfred “Chippy” Outcalt or Don Cole

  • reeds: Budd Johnson, tenor sax, top left; Jackie Fields, alto sax top right; Alva “Bo” McCain, tenor sax, bottom left; Frank Powell, alto sax, bottom right

  • Hank Jones, piano

  • Joe Benjamin or Bill Pemberton, string bass

  • Percy Brice, drums

  • three unidentified violins

Here is the film itself...

Tuesday, 4 April 2017

Yale Key...




The Duke & I
A professor explains how jazz legend Duke Ellington became a doctor in 1967.
Sometimes, it pays to be a rebel. When, after a decade of reasonably faithful observance of conventional behavior at Yale, I chose to deviate from established practice, my action led to a fascinating encounter with one of the true geniuses of modern American culture, Duke Ellington. Here is how it happened.
When I arrived as a professor at Yale in 1955, I discovered that one of my duties involved participation in a departmental nomination for receipt of an honorary degree at the upcoming Commencement. I took this responsibility seriously, and each year either proposed a nominee of my own or joined with other department members in supporting a candidate of their choice. For a full decade, I watched as our nominations went nowhere. This disappointment always occurred without explanation or indeed without any hint as to how and why our nominee had been found inadequate. Our frustration was compounded by the feeling that some of the successful nominations were inferior to our own. I, for one, resolved not to waste any more time on what appeared to be a sterile enterprise.
 
“I ventured out in the heavy rain to buy Willie ‘The Lion’ Smith a cigar.”
But in 1966, when I served as director of the division of the biological sciences, I decided to take advantage of my acquaintance with several members of the Brewster administration’s inner circle to pursue an independent course of action. As an amateur saxophonist and longtime jazz afficionado, I had developed a tremendous admiration for Duke Ellington’s compositions and their rendition by his nonpareil orchestra. Why not nominate the Duke for an honorary degree? No jazz personality had ever received such an award from Yale, and I thought that Ellington’s stature as a creative artist entitled him to such an honor. So I composed an appropriate statement and sent it on to my friend Ben Holden, then Secretary of the University, asking him to forward it to the relevant committee. But in my heart of hearts, I expected no greater success from this nomination than from the others I had made.
Imagine my surprise and joy when I received a phone call from Ben some months later. “Art,” he said, “you’ve done it!” “Done what?” was my rejoinder. “Your nomination of Duke Ellington for an honorary degree has been successful. And Kingman insists that you write the citation that he will read at Commencement. But keep everything secret until Commencement Day.” When I recovered from my shock, I agreed to do the write-up, deciding to construct a statement built around the titles of some of the Duke’s greatest creations. Here is what I came up with:
We are indebted to you for an important generalization: “It Don’t Mean a Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing.” Your musical compositions have set our hearts singing, our spirits soaring, and our feet tapping. We hope that today your “Mood” is not “Indigo” and that your “Caravan” will continue to “Take the A Train” in the direction of more “Sentimental Moods.” It might be said “You’ve Got it Good and That Ain’t Bad.” It is a special pleasure for Yale to confer on you the degree of Doctor of Music.
President Brewster read every word as I had written it.
The Duke’s given name is Edward Kennedy Ellington.Ben Holden told me that our irrepressible President could not resist playing with that name at the Corporation meeting when he announced the honorary degree recipients. His long pause after reading “Edward” and “Kennedy” caused considerable consternation when it created the impression among some Corporation members that a certain junior senator from Massachusetts was the recipient. Brewster’s final recitation of “Ellington” broke the tension amid considerable laughter.
 
“All those saints came marching onto the same platform on the same night.”
When sending the Ellington citation to Ben Holden, I made him promise that I would be the Duke’s official guide and companion during his visit to the campus. But in 1967 when the Duke received his honorary degree, my son Bill was graduating from Cornell University, and the commencements were to be held on the same day, at virtually the same hour. There was no way that, as a father, I could miss my own son’s commencement. So I swallowed my disappointment and didn’t get to meet the Duke.
Some years later, based in part on the Duke’s new connection with Yale, Willie Ruff, an adjunct professor at the School of Music, convinced the administration to establish the Duke Ellington Fellowship. Under that program, we have been treated to outstanding concerts by Willie, his musical partner—pianist Dwike Mitchell—and outstanding young Yale and New Haven musicians. The Fellowship even brought famous musicians like Dizzy Gillespie to town to play pied piper for New Haven schoolchildren. (The Fellowship’s 30th Anniversary concert will take place on October 25.)
For me, the culmination of this adventure was a gala occasion at Woolsey Hall in October 1972 when outstanding jazz musicians were brought together to inaugurate the Fellowship. My wife and I were invited to a pre-concert dinner in the President’s room with the musicians. At the table, my neighbor shook my hand, smiled, and said: “My name is Smith.” He turned out to be Willie “The Lion” Smith, who pioneered the “stride” rhythmic bass piano style that became dominant amongst jazz pianists! After dinner, Smith lamented that he had failed to bring a big cigar, part of his traditional costume when playing, so I ventured out in the heavy rain to buy him one at George & Harry’s (now Naples) on Wall Street. And when he and the Duke played duets at facing grand pianos, that cigar was part of the Lion’s equipment. Also recipients of Ellington Medals that night were jazz pioneers Eubie Blake, Art Blakey, and Noble Sissle; drummers Max Roach, Sonny Greer, Joe Jones, and Kenny Clarke; trumpeters Sy Oliver, Harry “Sweets” Edison, Dizzy Gillespie, “Cootie” Williams, and Clark Terry; trombonist Ray Brown; bassists Milt Hinton, Charles Mingus, and “Slam” Stewart, saxophonists Benny Carter, Harry Carney, Russell Procope, and Sonny Stitt; pianist Mary Lou Williams; and singers Joe Williams and Odetta. All those saints came marching onto the same platform on the same night. It was probably the greatest aggregation of jazz talent assembled at any one time in history.
Afterwards, when we mingled with the musicians, my wife saw the Duke seated on a chair against the wall, for the moment free of admirers. She hastened up to him, introduced herself, and told him of my role in the awarding of his honorary degree in 1967. He smiled broadly, asked me to approach him, then rose, kissed me on both cheeks and recited his mantra: “I love you madly.” As we parted, he took our name and address and promised to add us to his annual Christmas card mailing list. Alas, he died before he could keep that promise, but the memory of my encounter with the Duke will stay with me forever.  

Saturday, 25 February 2017

Hot House


The most exciting development of recent times in the performance of Ellington music live in the UK is the formation of The Birmingham Conservatoire Ellington Orchestra under the direction of Jeremy Price.

The Orchestra gave its inaugural concert a little over three weeks ago at the Town Hall, Birmingham. It was an exceptional occasion. 

In September, The Conservatoire opens a new space, The East Side Jazz Club, dedicated to the performance of improvised music. The Ellington Orchestra will play every two weeks. Live Ellington music every fortnight!



There will be regular updates as we have them. For now, here are two brief videos: members of the orchestra rehearsing for their Town Hall concert and a preface by Jeremy Price. There are reviews of the Orchestra's performances here and here an interview with Jeremy Price on the London Jazz News website here...







The Jazz Department's Twitter feed can be followed here.

Sunday, 19 February 2017

Piano to the foreground

Update...

An Intimate Piano Session is now shipping. Mine arrived this morning...

I am not on commission for this (!), but I can recommend Discovery Records. I was notified when it cam into stock, ordered yesterday and it arrived this morning. First class service all round!


From Storyville Records...
Previously unreleased music from the fingertips of Duke Ellington: An intimate 1972 session with the Duke on solo piano plus three bonus tracks from 1969.
The scene is 311 West 57 Street, New York, Mediasounds Studio A, Friday August 25th,1972. Duke Ellington was having an engagement with a smaller group at The Rainbow Grill, as he had had several times before, finishing the gig on the following night. But on the 25th, he chose also to go to the recording studio, just himself at the piano together with his two band singers Anita Moore and Tony Watkins, to record some pieces which were not played so often.
The recordings remained in his ”stockpile” until now, this being the first commercial issue of these beautiful pieces. The late Sjef Hoefsmit wrote about the session when he heard it back in 1994: ”It is difficult to understand why these magnificent recordings never have been issued”. Well, here they are at last – for all to enjoy!
Among the gems you'll find tracks such as two takes of the Billy Strayhorn composition “Lotus Blossom”, the Duke’s own “Le Sucrier Velours” and his emotional “My Mother, My Father and Love”. The latter was often performed with the Duke himself as a vocalist, reciting his own lyrics. No doubt the words meant a great deal to him, both personally and as part of his positive stories about the black communities in the USA.

The new CD contains three additional bonus tracks. On November 7th, 1969, Duke Ellington and his orchestra played two concerts in Rotterdam, in the famous De Doelen concert hall. The second concert of the evening was prolonged, as the public wouldn’t let Ellington go. So while the rest of the bandmembers left the stage, a quartet with Duke, Wild Bill Davis, bassist Victor Gaskin and drummer Rufus Jones stayed, and played four more numbers, much to the delight of the sold-out house. You can hear the whole band concert on the Storyville CD “Rotterdam 1969” (1018440), and here we offer the ”afterparty” music by the quartet.

And here are the discographical details:
25 August, 1972, New York City

Duke Ellington(p); Anita Moore, Tony Watkins(v)
I'm Afraid      
The Anticipation       
Le Sucrier Velour     
Le Sucrier Velour (2)           
Lotus Blossom           
A Blue Mural From Two Perspectives        
I'm Afraid - vAMo      unissued
I Didn't Know About You  
I Didn't Know About You (4)- vAMo          
I Didn't Know About You    
I Didn't Know About You - vAMo   
Add Aziz Latiffe(co)
Loco Madi      
Aziz Latiffe out
Lotus Blossom (6)    
New World A-Comin’
Le Sucrier Velour     
Melancholia  
Single Petal Of A Rose          
The Blues Ain't         
The Blues Ain't - vTW          
My Mother, My Father And Love - vTW    
My Mother, My Father And Love    
The Blues Ain't         
Come Sunday (9) - vTW     
My Mother, My Father And Love (10) - vTW       
A Blue Mural From Two Perspectives        
My Little Brown Book
(Source: Ellingtonia.com)
And the additional tracks from Rotterdam...
7 November, 1969, Rotterdam
Duke Ellington (p); Wild Bill Davis(o); Victor Gaskin(sb); 
Rufus Jones(d)
Black Swan    
The Lake       
Satin Doll  
Just Squeeze Me  

(Source: Ellingtonia.com)     

Thursday, 16 February 2017

Red, white and the blues...

A real piece of Ellington history is presently for sale on Ebay here. Of this unpublished autographed letter, the vendor writes:

Ellington, Duke. (1899-1974)

"I'm Brown but I'm Red, White & Blue" - Unpublished Autograph Song Manuscript
Original autograph musical manuscript in Duke Ellington's hand for a patriotic song titled "I'm Brown But I'm Red White & Blue," written out in pencil with a simple piano accompaniment. The lyrics read: "Say I'm Brown but I'm Red White & Blue / My folks are patriots thru and thru  / Why we've got lots of pride and we'll fight for our side / Cause we're Brown and We're Red White and Blue." This unpublished and unrecorded song, likely dating from the World War II era, shows Duke's pride in both his race and his country. 1 p. on manuscript paper; light toning and one very small tear to the right edge; easily legible and overall in very fine condition. 9.5 x 12.5 inches (24.2 x 31.8 cm).  Provenance: Duke Ellington Estate.

And from Leonard Feather's book, The Jazz Years: Earwitness to an Era (p.64), describing the first performance of Black, Brown and Beige, which took place at Rye High School on 22 January 1943, the night before its Carnegie Hall premiere: 

"We were all stunned by the brilliance of Duke's 'tone parallel to the history of the American Negro,' as he subtitled it. Most of us had just one reservation: towards the end of the 'Beige' movement, Duke had written a lyric, pompously delivered by Jimmy Britton, declaring that: 'We're black, brown and beige but we're red, white and blue.' Such simplistic flag-waving seemed redundant, but I had already found out that Duke was stubborn about clinging to his convictions. Only after [talent agent] Bill [William] Morris, Dr. [J.T.] Mize [head of the music department at Rye High School], Dan James [Ruth Ellington's husband] and I had expressed our feelings strongly was it agreed that Duke did not meed to wear his Americanism on his sleeve. The lyrics were eliminated and 'B, B & B' ran forty-eight instead of fifty minutes the next night."

(With thanks to the eminent Ellington researcher who pointed me in the direction of this reference)

Six and a half thousand dollars is a little beyond my pocket (!), so the photographs will have to do...











Tuesday, 14 February 2017

The Mercer Ellington Octet

Have these Ellingtonian recordings been released in any other form than original shellac, I wonder?