Tracking down The Lamb (1)

Born on February 12, 1904, in Princeton, New Jersey, Donald Lambert started his professional career at age ten in his home state, where he worked as a duo with Paul Seminole, half-Indian pianist who also played banjo and xylophone. 

In the early 30s, The Lamb moved to New York City and played in Harlem clubs but, after his wife died, he returned to New Jersey, where he decided to settle down, inexplicably, to play on out of tune pianos in small clubs and taverns until the end of his life (the Star Bar on Halsey Street in Newark, the Town House Restaurant in Montclair and Wallace’s Bar on Washington Street in West Orange, New Jersey).

From time to time he showed up in New York unexpectedly to challenge other ticklers in cutting contests. These piano battles are part of the stride piano legend and the source of a large stream of anecdotes, and will be the subject of a future series on this blog.

For the time being, let’s get back to the facts, the few notices, reviews and advertisements mentioning him on the papers during the timeframe starting in the early 20s – when he was barely twenty years old – and ending  in the 50s – before his appearance at the 1960 Newport Jazz Festival alongside Eubie Blake and Willie The Lion Smith –. 

Tracking down Donald Lambert comes out like an impossible task, due to his self-imposed obscurity. This  is part of the scarce results of a quite exhaustive research through the digital archives of both local and national newspapers.

New York Age - November 4, 1922

"Trenton, N.J. - (...) On October 25 there was a surprise party given by Miss Helen Dillon in honor of Miss Mary Dillon's 18th birthday at 71 West End avenue (...). Music was furnished by Donald Lambert".

New York Age - July 21, 1923

"Princeton, N.J. - Master Donald Lambert is filling a position as pianist in Asbury Park".

New York Age - May 31, 1930

"Newark, N.J. - One of the New Jersey's finest social and artistic feats was presented last Wednesday night by the Beaux Arts Club in their second anual presentation at the Y.M. and Y.W. Hebrew Hall, High and West Kenney streets. The auditorium was crowded with a capacity gathering from all parts of the State (...). During the intermission and for the dance music was played by Donald Lambert's Orchestra".

The Lion at Hampton, 1968

Willie The Lion Smith's 20-minute performance at the Hampton Jazz Festival (Hampton, VA) on Jun 27, 1968, is now available at Wolfgang's Vault. Signing up and logging in -which costs nothing- is required to listen to The Lion roaring, though payment is necessary for a download.

From the concert summary at Wolfgang's Vault:

"After chatting for a while, Smith opens this Hampton Jazz Festival performance with his infectious theme song, "Relaxin'". Next up is the autobiographical vocal number "Music on My Mind", which also happens to be the title of his memoirs published in 1964. The Lion then leaps into the tongue-twisting swing-era vocal number, "Nagasaki", and closes out his set with a medley of instrumentals, beginning with James P. Johnson's "Charleston" and continuing with Fats Waller's "Ain't Misbehavin'", Luckey Roberts' "Moonlight Cocktail", Duke Ellington's "Satin Doll" and "Sophisticated Lady", and culminating with his own show-stopping number, "Finger Buster"."

The Mule's 10 random CD picks (2)

* Coleman Hawkins - 1943-1944 (Classics 807)

* Duke Ellington - The Great Chicago Concerts (Music Masters 65110-2)

* Cat Anderson - The Definitive Black & Blue Sessions: Cat Speaks (Black & Blue BB 971.2)

* Luckey Roberts & Willie ‘The Lion’ Smith - Luckey & The Lion: Harlem Piano Solos (Good Time Jazz 10035)

* Rossano Sportiello - Rossano. In The Dark (Blue Swing 002 / Sackville SKCD 2-2070)

* Bennie Wallace - Disorder At The Border. The Music Of Coleman Hawkins (Enja ENJ-9506 2)

* Sarah Vaughan - 1951-1952 (Classics 1296)

* Gene Ammons & Sonny Stitt - God Bless Jug And Sonny (Prestige PRCD-11019-2)

* Wild Bill Davison - Pretty Wild and With Strings Attached (Arbors ARCD 19175)

* Various Artists - The Jazz Piano (Mosaic Singles MCD-1012)

The Mule's 10 random CD picks (1)

* James P. Johnson - 1942-1945: Piano Solos (Smithsonian Folkways SF CD 40812)

* Willie The Lion Smith - 1938-1940 (Classics 692)

* Marian McPartland - The Single Petal Of A Rose (Concord CCD-4895-2)

* Kenny Davern & Dick Wellstood - Never In A Million Years (Challenge CHR 70019)

* Ben Webster - At The Renaissance (Contemporary/OJC 00025218639026)

* Earl Hines - Four Jazz Giants (Solo Art SACD 111/112)

* Coleman Hawkins - Wrapped Tight (GRP/Impulse! GRD-109)

* Bobby Henderson - Handful Of Keys (Vanguard VMD-8511)

* Lionel Hampton And His Orchestra And Quintet - Jazz Flamenco (RCA 74321364002)

* Various Artists - Prestige First Sessions, Vol. 1 (Prestige PCD-24114-2)

The Lion on BBC's "Jazz 625" (1966) - 30 min. show

BBC's Jazz 625, hosted by the late Humphrey Lyttelton, featured Willie The Lion Smith in a program from 1966, accompanied by Brian Brocklehurst (bass) and Lennie Hastings (drums) in some selections.

Youtube offers us the opportunity to watch the complete show, which included "Carolina Shout", "Morning Air", "St. Louis Blues", "Dardanella", "Nagasaki" and "Relaxin'".

The Lion obviously enjoys being in the spotlight, facing the audience, smoking his cigar, mopping his brow, talking, joking, vocalizing and improvising over these classical jazz piano chesnuts.

The Lion at Suburban Gardens (1939)

Suburban Gardens was the first major amusement park within Washington, D.C.. Located at 50th and Hayes Streets, in the Deanwood neighborhood near the National Training School for Women and Girls, it opened in 1921 and was in operation for almost two decades, closing by 1940. Today Merritt Elementary School occupies part of the site of Suburban Gardens.

Suburban Gardens was created by the Universal Development and Loan Company, a black-owned real estate and development company. Apart from a roller coaster, a Ferris wheel, several swimming pools, games of chance and picnic grounds, there was also a large dance pavilion where popular jazz musicians performed.

Here's where our Lion enters the game. He played there for three consecutive nights on June 23, 24 & 25, 1939, billed as the "King of Swing" (sic) and accompanied by his Junglecats including vocalist and dancer Ollie Potter. Dancing started at 8:30... with no known end.

Washington Afro-American (June 17, 1939)

Jam session at Jimmy Ryan's: only for your eyes!

Here's a small treasure for all those who love this kind of jazz and would kill to have been present: a flier for a series of 52nd Street jam session at Jimmy Ryan's, starting on September 27, 1942. Click on it and you'll discover a who's who of jazz in the early 1940s:

Lion, it catches up with you!

"The last time I saw my old friend [James P. Johnson], he was in a coma. For two weeks he hadn't spoken to anybody. I thought to myself: Old Fats, the Gemini; James P., the Aquarius; and Willie, Sagittarius. There was an old piano in the room and I sat down. I played the "Carolina Shout". It was his tune, his piano selection, and I played it like he played it. It was stride piano, guys playing with two hands. Then Jimmy opened his eyes and smiled. He managed to write out a message. LION, it said, THEY WERE TOO GOOD TO THE PIANO PLAYERS WITH ALL THAT FREE BOOZE AND RICH FOOD. IT CATCHES UP WITH YOU."

From Willie The Lion Smith's Music On My Mind autobiography.

Bernd Lhotzky plays The Lion

"Fading Star" (1939) is one of the most beautiful compositions by Willie 'The Lion' Smith and, for sure, one of his most impressionistic masterpieces. If you concentrate in Lhotzky's brilliant performance of the descending first phrase, played in triplets as most of the A theme, you'll be reminded of the trail left by a falling star. The second theme, developed on the chord progression of the first one, is nothing short of brilliance as well.

The melody of "Morning Air" (1938) sparkled up in The Lion's mind while contemplating the spectacular view of Manhattan from St. Nicholas Park, after he had being partying all night with Jack Teagarden and George Wettling. He quickly ran to his apartment and began modulating the phrase through different keys, developing it into the opening theme.

Let's end this series of Bernd Lhotzky videos with his rendition of "Passionette" (1935), a composition in which the left hand is not expected to play stride patterns except for three measures at the very end of the piece, and instead is used in counterpoint to the right hand.

Monk on stride [1]

Although it is common knowledge that Thelonious Monk spent some time in the jam sessions that took place in James P. Johnson’s house in the late 1930s and that he often attended Donald Lambert’s gigs in the Harlem bop clubs in the late 1940s, neither Willie ‘The Lion’ Smith’s memoirs nor Scott E. Brown’s biography of James P. Johnson mention Monk being present in those friendly battles.

Willie ‘The Lion’ describes them vividly: “Sometimes we got carving battles going that would last for four or five hours. Here’s how these bashed worked: the Lion would pound the keys for a mess of choruses and then shout to the next in line, ‘Well, all right, take it from there’, and each tickler would take his turn, trying to improve on a melody…. We would embroider the melodies with our own original ideas and try to develop patterns that had more originality than those played before us. Sometimes it was just a question as to who could think up the most patterns within a given tune. It was pure improvisation”.

In the recently published Monk biography by Robin D. G. Kelley, Thelonious Monk: The Life And Times Of An American Original (Free Press, 2009), pianist Billy Taylor is quoted recounting his first encounter with Monk at one of those jam sessions in September of 1939. Clarence Profit was playing at a small club managed by a friend of his father, Billy Taylor, Sr., and Billy Taylor, after introducing himself to the manager, launched himself so proudly to play “Lullaby Of Rhythm”. “I thought I was really doing something” Taylor recalls. “The piano player kept looking at me funny and I didn’t realize it was Clarence Profit since I’d never seen him before. So here I am, playing his composition on his gig! Once I finished, Profit came to me and said, ‘Hey kid, that wasn’t bad. I have some friends that would like to hear you play’”.

They went to a brownstone on 140th just west of South Avenue, which happened to belong to James P. Johnson, the Father of the Stride Piano. “There’s some guys sitting around playing cards. He says ‘Hey fellas! I have a piano player here!’ They said, ‘Sit down, kid, and play something’”. Billy Taylor sat down and played “China Boy” in the Teddy Wilson style: “He was on my mind so I was doing my version of him. You know, my left hand doing this little thing? I got about sixteen bars in when one of these guys comes over and says ‘Hmmmmm, that’s nice. Let me try a little of that?’ He sits down and, man…! This guy has got a left hand that I didn’t believe! He was just like Waller. Turns out that everybody in the room was a piano player! I mean, these guys sat down one after another and just played! Nobody had to say anything. I just sat there and thought, ‘Oh, shit!’”.

“Turned out that one of the guys was Monk! It was the first time I ever heard him. But get this...! The other guys were Willie ‘The Lion’ Smith, a guy named ‘Gippy’, and James P. Johnson!” Willie ‘The Lion’ then called Monk over to the piano bench: “He said, ‘Play your thing, man’. And he sat down and played a standard, I believe it could have been “Tea For Two”. He was playing more like Art Tatum then. I think he really responded to the older musicians who told him to do his own thing”.

Monk told Billy Taylor that Willie ‘The Lion’ and those stride masters had shown him respect and had 'empowered' him to do his own thing, telling that “he could do it and that his thing is worth doing. It doesn’t sound like Tatum. It doesn’t sound like Willie ‘The Lion’. It doesn’t sound like anybody but Monk and this is what he wanted to do. He had the confidence. The way that he does those things is the way he wanted to do them”.

A version of this story was also published in Leslie Gourse’s biography of Thelonious Monk, Straight, No Chaser: The Life And Genius Of Thelonious Monk (Schirmer Books, 1998). According to Kelley, much of what Gourse wrote is made of the “fact” that James P. Johnson lived in Monk’s neighborhood. But, actually, he was not living there when Monk began playing music: in 1930, James P. lived in Queens on 108th Avenue [see my previous post: James P. Johnson in the US Census, 1930], and by the time Monk appears on the musical scene he was living in Harlem, at 267 West 140th Street.

Donald Lambert transcriptions

Paul Marcorelles has just published a book with transcriptions of 15 original piano solos by Donald Lambert. It is available from Blue Black Jack, both on paper and as a pdf file.

It includes the four sides recorded in 1941 for Bluebird ("Anitra's Dance", "Pilgrim's Chorus", "Elegie" and "Sextette") and some other classic performances, such as his arrangements of "Tea For Two" or "Russian Lullaby".

Paul Marcorelles had previously published four books with transcriptions of Fats Waller (two books), Willie The Lion Smith and James P. Johnson piano solos, to be found here, here, here and here.

Marshall Stearns on James P. Johnson's major works

"Scott Joplin had indicated the ultimate goal, however, when he composed a ragtime opera, Treemonisha, which was performed once only (1915). Similarly, the late James P. Johnson composed coral works, concertos, and symphonies in the same idiom. The inner drive of ragtime composers -like that of most jazzmen- was toward musical respectability, which means one thing: European concepts. But the time was not ripe.

In the early fifties, James P. Johnson, old and sick, often wondered what could have happened to his beloved ragtime. For a brief moment, it seemed that the large compositions on which he had been working were about to be accepted and played, along with the time-honored classics of Mozart and Beethoven. Johnson's concertos were quite as complex and, in a sense, twice as difficult to play as Mozart's. Perhaps his Afro-American folk origins betrayed him, for the average classical musician is utterly incapable of the rhythmic sensitivity that is necessary to play Johnson's pieces. Only an orchestra composed of Smiths [Willie The Lion], Wallers, and Johnsons could have done it."

[Marshall W. Stearns, The Story Of Jazz (Oxford University Press, 1956)]

--------------------------------------------------

"Sin embargo, Scott Joplin había señalado el objetivo final, al componer una ópera ragtime, Treemonisha, que sólo se representó una vez (en 1915). De igual modo, el difunto James P. Johnson compuso obras corales, conciertos y sinfonías con el mismo lenguaje. El empuje interior de los compositores de ragtime -como el de la mayoría de los músicos de jazz- se encaminaba hacia la respetabilidad musical, lo que significa una única cosa: conceptos europeos. Pero no era el momento propicio.

En los primeros años cincuenta, James P. Johnson, viejo y enfermo, se preguntaba a menudo qué le podía haber pasado a su amado ragtime. Por un breve instante parecía que las composiciones extensas en las que había estado trabajando estaban a punto de ser aceptadas e interpretadas, del mismo modo que los clásicos consagrados de Mozart y Beethoven. Los conciertos de Johnson eran tan complejos y, en cierto sentido, el doble de difíciles de interpretar que los de Mozart. Quizá sus orígenes afroamericanos le traicionaron, ya que el músico de clásica medio es absolutamente incapaz de tener la sensibilidad rítmica necesaria para tocar las piezas de Johnson. Sólo una orquesta compuesta de Smiths [Willie The Lion], Wallers y Johnsons lo podría haber hecho."

[Marshall W. Stearns, The Story Of Jazz (Oxford University Press, 1956)]

Battling the Jersey Rocket

Regarding my post on Willie The Lion Smith, Eubie Blake and Donald Lambert playing at the 1960 Newport Jazz Festival, superb stride pianist Mike Lipskin, who was Eubie's and The Lion's protégé, has written in the Stride Piano Yahoo group:

"The many times I was with Eubie at home, recording a 10 hours interview for the Rutgers Jazz Institute, he would often praise some pianist, and always do so about James P. Johnson, but just as often would talk of others and not praise them. I never heard him go overboard about Jelly Roll Morton or Scott Joplin as pianists, though he liked their compositions.

He loved Luckey Roberts and respected him very much. They were close friends. However, he once commented with a laugh that Luckey "ruined the voice of many singers" by not modulating if their range was in another key, but simply playing down or up one octave.

When he and Willie the Lion were on the bill with Donald Lambert at the Newport Jazz Festival, Lambert performed before they did. Eubie said to Willie "How the hell are we going to follow him?""

That's how even such stride/ragtime masters were scared of battling the Jersey Rocket!

James P. Johnson transcriptions

Paul Marcorelles has just published a book with transcriptions of 17 original piano solos by James P. Johnson. It is available from this website, both on paper and as a pdf file.

It includes classics like "Carolina Shout", "Keep Off The Grass", "Mule Walk Stomp" (does it ring any bell?) or "The Harlem Strut".

Paul Marcorelles had previously published three books with transcriptions of Fats Waller and Willie The Lion Smith piano solos, to be found here, here and here.

The Lion, The Lamb & Eubie Blake at Newport '60

In the 1960 Newport Jazz Festival, boisterous spectators created a major disturbance, and 12,000 college students were finally tamed by the state police, National Guard and the U.S. Marines. Poet Langston Hughes, with the strong conviction that the disturbances would mean the end of the festival, wrote an impromptu lyric, "Goodbye Newport Blues," that he brought to the Muddy Waters band onstage, where Waters pianist Otis Spann sang it:

I got to keep up singing
Though I got the Newport blues . . .
Those sad, bad Goodbye Newport blues

In this crowdy and tumultuous environment, the performance of ragtime and stride pianists like Eubie Blake, Donald Lambert or Willie The Lion Smith could be seen like nothing more than an anachronism.

But, despite the poor image and sound quality and the strange feet fetishism of the camera man, we must be thankful for having these six videos, where we can watch, for example, Donald Lambert playing his amazing arrangement of Grieg’s “Anitra’s Dance”, with an artistic level at least as high as his famous January 30, 1941 Bluebird recording, or The Lamb and Eubie Blake playing together on James P. Johnson’s “The Charleston”. This is the only recorded duet between Lambert and anyone else (he apparently did some duet work with Paul Seminole in the 1920's, but no recordings survive) and it gets so good near the end that surprisingly the audience clamors for more (MORE!) and of course they have to do a few more choruses, this time with the Danny Barker group joining in.

Otherwise, aural evidence confirms that these "Liza" and "Anitra's Dance" performances by Donald Lambert are those included in the Storyville CD Donald Lambert - Recorded 1959-1961 (Storyville 101 8376). Storyville is incorrectly listing those tracks as being recorded on July 7, 1960, when the Lamb appearance at the Newport Jazz Festival was positively on July 1, 1960 (check the New York Times review from July 2, 1960).

Willie The Lion Smith transcriptions

Paul Marcorelles has just published a book with transcriptions of 15 original piano solos by Willie The Lion Smith. It is available from this website, both on paper and as a pdf file.

-"Concentrating", "Sneakaway", "Echoes Of Spring", "Finger Buster", "Fading Star", "Rippling Waters", "Stormy Weather", "I'll Follow You" and "What Is There To Say?" are taken from the famous January 10, 1939 Commodore session.

-"Passionnette" and "Morning Air" are reportedly taken from a 1937 recording, but in fact I think these two pieces are taken from the January 10, 1938 Decca session, as I haven't found a recording of these two tunes from 1937 in any of my discographies.

-"Here Comes The Band", "Cuttin' Out", "Portrait Of The Duke" and "Zig Zag" are taken from 1949 sessions, probably the Royal Jazz/Vogue sessions from December 24, 1949 (for "Cuttin' Out") and December 1, 1949 (for the other three).

Paul Marcorelles had previously published two books with transcriptions of Fats Waller piano solos, to be found here and here.

--------------------------------------------------

Paul Marcorelles acaba de publicar un libro con transcripciones de quince solos de piano de Willie The Lion Smith. Se puede adquirir en esta web, tanto en papel como en formato pdf.

-Las transcripciones de "Concentrating", "Sneakaway", "Echoes Of Spring", "Finger Buster", "Fading Star", "Rippling Waters", "Stormy Weather", "I'll Follow You" y "What Is There To Say" están sacadas de la famosa sesión para el sello Commodore de 10 de enero de 1939.

-"Passionnette" y "Morning Air", según señala el autor, están sacadas de una grabación de 1937, pero creo que más bien se refiere a la sesión de 10 de enero de 1938 para el sello Decca, puesto que no he encontrado ninguna grabación de esos dos temas del año 1937 en ninguna de mis discografías.

-"Here Comes The Band", "Cuttin' Out", "Portrait Of The Duke" y "Zig Zag" están sacadas de grabaciones de 1949, probablemente de las sesiones para Royal Jazz/Vogue de 24 de diciembre ("Cuttin' Out") y 1 de diciembre (las otras tres).

Paul Margorelles había publicado previamente dos libros de transcripciones de solos de piano de Fats Waller (volumen 1 y volumen 2).

Joe Turner - Pianists in my life (2/3)

Second part of "Joe Turner - Pianists In My Life" as told to Johnny Simmen.

"(...) Shortly after, I had a tour of the west with Adelaide Hall (as accompanist, together with the late Alex Hill, my good friend- in fact it was a piano duo), but before we left we had trouble with Alex, and Francis Carter, also a good pianist, joined us. Benny Carter told me that when I reached Toledo, Ohio, I should not play any piano because there was a blind boy there called Art Tatum and I would not be able to touch him. When the Adelaide Hall troupe finally reached Toledo, I asked where I could find Art and I was given the address of a buffet flat where he would appear every night at two o’clock, after his work. After finishing at the theatre at midnight I went there and waited for Art to arrive. In the meantime, I played some good stuff on the piano there and two girls sitting near the piano started an argument over my playing compared with Art’s. One girl said “He’ll wash Art away”, while the other was insisting “Just wait until Art gets here and you’ll see how he’ll cut this boy!”. Art Tatum arrived at two o’clock. He asked me if I was the Joe Turner who had made a reputation with a fine arrangement of “Liza”. I said that it was me and begged him to play piano for me. After he had refused to play before hearing me (and of course with Art I lost the argument) I played first “Dinah” for warming up and then my “Liza”. When I had finished Art said “Pretty good”, and I was offended, because everywhere else that I played “Liza” it was considered sensational and there was Art Tatum saying “pretty good”! After that, Art sat down and played “Three Little Words”. Three thousand words would have been an understatement!!! We became the greatest of friends after that. Art came to my home the next morning and even before I had left my bed I heard him in the parlor play my arrangement of “Liza” note for note. After hearing it only once the night before! By the way, he liked it so much that some time later he recorded it exactly as I played it.

When I left Toledo I took his name and address with intentions of bringing him to New York, to team with me, especially since we were having troubles with Francis Carter. But when we returned to New York the troubles switched over to me and left the act, although they wanted to get rid of Francis. Since he was the only one left who knew the act, they kept him. Being honest with everyone, I gave Adelaide Hall Art Tatum’s address and that’s how he came to New York. Many people believed until now that I played together with Art -unfortunately I did not. Although I was supposed to have done, because of so much explaining, I decided not to deny anyone's belief that I had (that’s something putting all the discographies upside-down!) So I declare: Francis Carter made “I’m In The Mood For Love” with me, not Art Tatum, and Francis Carter played in my place with Art Tatum.

Now to mention some more pianists who really gave me solid kicks in my life:

Lucky (sic) Roberts, Fats Waller, who was the best friend I ever had, Willie The Lion Smith -the most unpredictable pianist of all time because if Tatum played, if Fats played, if James P. played, if anyone in Harlem played, we could pretty well guess what their feature number would be- but, when The Lion roared you never knew what was coming. By the way, The Lion and I are always in correspondence, reminiscing about the old times and discussing events in the present day jazz world. We are still having fun together, in spite of The Lion roaring in New York while I’m beating it out all over Switzerland.

There is one other pianist whose genius I would like to have heard beside that of Art Tatum: Seminole (Abalabba). He was the greatest trick pianist I have ever heard. I have jammed together with him many times and I know quite well that he was one of the wonders of our time. It would have been wonderful to have heard two geniuses in a contest, but Tatum came to New York after Seminole had already died.

Many times I heard Jelly Roll Morton brag about the things he’d done for jazz and much to my amazement he would always prove every statement. This leaves us to the one fact about Jelly Roll. This is that the mere mention of the history of jazz without his name in capitals, is bunk. Teddy Wilson came to New York and played with Benny Carter’s orchestra at Connie’s Inn. He gave me no peace until I had taught him some of those smashing minor thirds that I had learned from James P. Johnson and Fats Waller. There is no doubt that Teddy Wilson is one of the cleanest technicians of our time.

Another name I cannot leave out is that of Donald Lambert who came often to New York from New Jersey, always looking for cutting contests. Believe me, when he finished throwing that left hand very few people had even a desire to walk past the piano, let alone play it!

Another old friend of mine who would stutter in his speech but never in his playing, and whose left hand is comparable to that of the Lion, James P., The Beetle and Kirby Walker, is Willie Gant. Willie would always get Kirby Walker and hunt for me because it seems that my left had worried him a bit so he decided between him and Kirby Walker they could give me all the troubles I needed because they both had (and have) dynamite lefts (...)."

Bernd Lhotzky: Renovando la tradición del stride

Esta entrevista se publicó en la revista digital Tomajazz en octubre de 2006 [ http://www.tomajazz.com/ ]

-------------------------------------------------

BERND LHOTZKY: RENOVANDO LA TRADICIÓN DEL STRIDE

Por Agustín Pérez Gasco

© Bernd Lhotzky

Para algunos aficionados al jazz, el término stride evoca oscuros garitos neoyorquinos de los años 20 donde un músico negro, envuelto en una nube de humo y con una botella de ginebra a medio vaciar a su lado, se enfrenta con violencia casi ritual a las teclas de un desvencijado piano, mientras mira alternativamente y con cara de desafío a un público poco recomendable y a un rival incrédulo que aún no sabe que ya ha sido derrotado y no volverá a sentarse en esa silla en toda la noche, quizá nunca más.

Para otros, el término stride rememora viejos rollos de pianola y crepitantes discos de 78 revoluciones que sirven de fondo a una vieja película en blanco y negro, jamás reeditada en formato digital.

Hay incluso un tercer grupo, el de los más radicales defensores de la modernidad, para los que el stride no significa nada, únicamente una entrada en cualquier mohosa enciclopedia de jazz, un género extinto perteneciente a una época pasada que, por lo tanto, no tiene razón de ser. Hay que mirar hacia delante: toda música ya interpretada está muerta, incluso la de ese desconocido libreimprovisador japonés cuyo primer disco autoproducido acaba de ver la luz. No importa que no hayan escuchado jamás “Carolina Shout”. Da igual.

Todos ellos se equivocan. El piano stride está vivo, muy vivo, quizás más de lo que lo ha estado en los últimos treinta o cuarenta años, gracias a una nueva oleada de pianistas, que no sólo ha aprendido de los creadores y maestros del estilo a través de sus grabaciones, sino de generaciones posteriores con las que, en muchos casos, han convivido y les han transmitido una forma de hacer música que combina el virtuosismo pianístico con un ritmo vibrante y lleno de swing, la alegría de vivir con el concienzudo estudio de las partituras y transcripciones.

Bernd Lhotzky es uno de los más brillantes pianistas de este renacimiento del piano stride.

Nacido el 11 de diciembre de 1970 en Tegernsee (Alemania) e hijo de padre alemán y madre francesa, recibió su primera lección de piano a los seis años. Su temprano descubrimiento del jazz no le impidió continuar sus estudios formales de música, incluyendo composición y armonía, además de aprender a tocar el violín, la viola, la trompeta y el contrabajo. Hoy en día aún sigue practicando y tocando música clásica (su mujer es una conocida pianista clásica), aunque en su corazón late el pulso del stride. Tiene la técnica y el brío de los grandes maestros del estilo, pero aporta cada vez más su toque personal, que también ha bebido de las fuentes de Art Tatum o Teddy Wilson.

© Bernd Lhotzky

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: Es usted un joven pianista alemán que toca stride, un estilo cuyas raíces se encuentran en el Nueva York de los años 20. ¿Cómo y cuándo fue usted consciente de la existencia del piano stride? ¿Cuándo y por qué decidió dedicarse a este estilo?

BERND LHOTZKY: Tenía yo nueve años cuando mi padre me llevó a un concierto en Munich en el que tuve la oportunidad de escuchar a Dorothy Donegan, Dick Wellstood y Joe Turner. Fue una experiencia increíble. Comencé a estudiar “Maple Leaf Rag”, la pieza con la que Wellstood había comenzado el concierto. Un par de meses más tarde la toqué en un certamen de piano y gané el primer premio, curiosamente en la misma sala en la que había tenido lugar aquel concierto.

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: Dentro de sus propias limitaciones, se percibe una especie de resurgimiento del stride en estos últimos años, con una escena muy activa que engloba a una veintena de pianistas de diferentes generaciones, tanto en Norteamérica (Mike Lipskin, Dick Hyman y Tom Roberts, entre otros) como en Europa (Louis Mazetier, Rossano Sportiello, Chris Hopkins y usted mismo son los más claros ejemplos). Asimismo, hay una serie de discográficas como Arbors, Stomp Off Records o el sello suizo Jazz Connaisseur, que se dedican a grabar y a promocionar este estilo. Y usted ha tenido su propio sello, HotSky Records. A pesar de todo esto ¿cómo se las apaña un pianista de un estilo tan antiguo de jazz para ganarse la vida?

BERND LHOTZKY: Creo que es más fácil ganarse la vida como músico de jazz en Alemania o Suiza que en otros países. A veces, ser reconocido como un especialista en un determinado campo artístico ayuda bastante. Aparte de dar recitales de piano solo, formo parte de un grupo de swing llamado Echoes Of Swing, que se ha hecho bastante popular desde que empezó hace unos diez años. Además, he compuesto la música para algunas películas.

En relación con HotSky, lo monté para poder sacar adelante mis propias producciones, pero cuando otros sellos se interesaron por mi trabajo, me pareció que no había necesidad de seguir con él. Empecé a grabar con Jazz Connaisseur, que es un magnífico sello para jazz a piano solo y últimamente he grabado para el renombrado sello Arbors Jazz. Con Echoes Of Swing utilizamos nuestra propia discográfica, Echoes Of Swing Productions. Esto nos da mucha libertad y encima nos beneficiamos al cien por cien del modesto éxito comercial que tenemos la suerte de disfrutar.

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: Ha mencionado que compuso la música de varias películas. Según aparece en su website [1] éstas son Der Lügner, A Few Moves y Chocolate Pain [2]. ¿Podría explicar cómo es el proceso de composición de la partitura para una película? ¿Es muy diferente a componer piezas de jazz?

BERND LHOTZKY: Hay otra llamada Exil, que salió hace dos años. Aparte de una breve escena en A Few Moves, estas películas no tienen nada que ver con el jazz. Es pura música de películas, compuesta con la intención de dar soporte y reforzar las escenas. Componer para una película es una cuestión de sincronización, de matemáticas, da muchos dolores de cabeza pero también es muy excitante. Mi favorita es Chocolate Pain, porque en ella tuve a una orquesta sinfónica a mi servicio. Si se fija, en una escena muy sensual incluso utilicé un bolero.

Echoes of Swing Orchestra. Foto promocional

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: Aparentemente, existe una relación muy fluida entre los músicos actuales de stride, de la misma forma en que los pioneros de los años 20 en Nueva York eran amigos, además de profesores y mentores de los pianistas más jóvenes, a pesar de que batallaban en los cutting contests. ¿Se enzarzan aun hoy en esas batallas? La verdad es que no puedo imaginarle gritándole a Louis Mazetier “¿Eh, qué le pasa a tu mano izquierda? ¿Estás tullido? Anda, deja que te enseñe cómo se supone que hay que tocar eso”, como habría hecho Willie “The Lion” Smith con sus adversarios.

BERND LHOTZKY: Es cierto, somos todos buenos amigos y tenemos una relación excelente. Estamos en contacto habitualmente y nos encanta vernos en festivales y en giras como el Stride Piano Summit Tour, que estamos preparando actualmente. Por cierto, la mano izquierda de Louis Mazetier no está precisamente tullida, más bien es poderosa, muy poderosa, y lo último que querría es que me la plantase en la cara, ja, ja, ja...

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: En la literatura musical hay varias definiciones de stride, algunas de ellas muy atinadas. ¿Podría darnos su propia visión al respecto?

BERND LHOTZKY: Si alguien quiere saber de verdad algo sobre esta música, lo que tiene que hacer es escuchar los discos de los maestros como James P. Johnson, Fats Waller, Dick Wellstood o Ralph Sutton. Stride es sólo un término que se inventaron para denominar una sección de las tiendas de jazz, un nombre en una tumba, en los archivos. Para mi música prefiero términos un poco más genéricos como “piano clásico de jazz”. Esto me da más libertad.

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: ¿Cómo se consigue la destreza técnica para tocar todas esas notas y aun así tener un tono tan rotundo y, sobre todo, mantener ese ritmo lleno de swing con las alternancias de la mano izquierda? Una vez leí a un pianista de stride decir que se necesita tocar con maestría el “Maple Leaf Rag” de Scott Joplin durante al menos un año antes de empezar a aprender cómo tocar stride. ¿Es eso cierto? ¿Cuánto se necesita practicar para llegar a ser un maestro del estilo?

BERND LHOTZKY: Mis estudios de música clásica fueron muy útiles. Algunas de las composiciones de los maestros son técnicamente muy exigentes y a veces me pregunto cómo pudieron algunos de los viejos ticklers [3] convertirse en extraordinarios virtuosos sin ninguna (o muy poca) educación formal. A mí me ha llevado veinticinco años tocar como toco hoy en día y todavía me queda mucho por mejorar. Cuando era un crío tocaba hasta seis horas diarias, practicando música clásica y jazz. Por otro lado, conozco las transcripciones de los temas de los grandes maestros del stride –y algunas son muy buenas– pero nunca las he usado. Todo lo que he aprendido de ellos ha sido de oído.

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: ¿No le parece que este estilo puede ser un poco restrictivo? El obtener un sonido distintivo y personal se considera (o al menos se consideraba) primordial en el jazz. ¿Cómo se consigue eso en el stride?

BERN LHOTZKY: Esa restricción es la que hace que un estilo sea inmediatamente reconocible. Mantener un estilo “puro” puede ser bonito y gratificante, pero esto no debe impedir que se intenten otras cosas. Sólo hay que fijarse en la libertad con la que se manejaba Dick Wellstood. Tener un sonido personal es muy importante, por supuesto. Cada uno se ha ido formando de manera distinta y tiene un enfoque diferente.

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: Los pianistas de stride sólo utilizan una pequeña parte del cancionero clásico americano. Y, aunque algunos músicos de stride compusieron prolíficamente (Fats Waller, James P. Johnson), otros casi no lo hicieron. ¿Es el repertorio algo limitado para un pianista de stride? ¿Se puede actualizar?

BERND LHOTZKY: Cuando empecé a tocar hacer quince años, empezaba los conciertos con “Mule Walk”, por ejemplo. Continuaba con “Echoes Of Spring”, después “Carolina Shout”, seguido por “Fingerbuster” y así sucesivamente. Llegó un momento en que me di cuenta de que vivía en el pasado y de que no tenía personalidad musical, que no tenía nada que ofrecer y nada que aportar. Sentí la necesidad de expandir mi repertorio. Ahora cuando doy un recital incluyo todo tipo de temas, sobre todo del cancionero clásico. Y todos mis colegas, como Rossano Sportiello, Chris Hopkins y Louis Mazetier, son gente muy abierta en ese sentido. Son capaces de tocar cualquier tema y cualquier estilo jazzístico. Esto es muy importante, porque tenemos que “airearnos”.

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: A Art Tatum se le criticaba por no hacer auténtica improvisación, sino simples ornamentos sobre un tema [4]. En el stride, por la importancia de la mano izquierda (y su variedad de figuras rítmicas lejos del simple oom-pah del ragtime, tensión y relajación, interacción con la mano derecha) y el hecho de que la mano derecha toque en cierto modo de forma convencional, adornando la melodía original, puede surgir la misma crítica. ¿Qué opina usted al respecto?

BERND LHOTZKY: Lo primero de todo, creo que nadie debería criticar a Art Tatum. Él está ahí para que se le admire. Es verdad que cuando hablamos de piano stride muchas veces la improvisación no es lo prioritario. Cuando los creadores de este estilo pianístico tocaban sus temas favoritos, los modificaban muy poco en cada interpretación. Sus versiones estaban cuidadosamente preparadas y llenas de trucos, con la intención de deslumbrar a la audiencia. Pero, por otra parte, Willie “The Lion” Smith cuenta que James P. Johnson podía improvisar sobre un tema durante una hora sin repetirse ni una sola vez.

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: Hablando del ragtime, ¿cómo percibe usted la evolución desde el ragtime hacia el stride? James P. Johnson parece haber sido la figura crucial, aunque otros músicos también estuvieron allí en el momento de la transición, como Luckey Roberts o Eubie Blake (este último mucho más cercano al ragtime durante toda su carrera)

BERND LHOTZKY: El ragtime y el stride están muy cerca el uno del otro. El ragtime se tocaba tal y como estaba en la partitura, mientras que los pianistas de stride se tomaban libertades e improvisaban. En el stride las síncopas son mucho más pronunciadas y tiene mucho más swing. En la mano izquierda la distancia entre la nota grave y el acorde es mayor. En la mano derecha se utilizan determinados ornamentos, figuras que consisten en terceras sincopadas que uno no esperaría encontrarse en el ragtime. Por ejemplo, merece la pena escuchar la versión en directo del “Caprice Rag” de James P. Johnson grabada en los primeros años 40 y compararla con un rollo de pianola de “The Entertainer”... por cierto, James P. tenía una gran admiración por Scott Joplin. Le encantaba “Euphonic Sounds” y lo grabó en varias ocasiones.

En realidad, James P. Johnson era muy versátil. Era un magnífico pianista de grupo. Sólo hay que escuchar las sesiones de los Blue Note Jazzmen [5]. Eso es piano moderno de jazz, e improvisado. James P. Johnson fue un pionero, siempre estuvo muy por delante de su tiempo.

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: El grupo de pianistas clásicos de stride era muy heterogéneo e incluía músicos muy especiales, como Willie “The Lion” Smith o Donald Lambert. ¿Cuál es su favorito?

BERND LHOTZKY: Willie “The Lion” fue probablemente el más original y colorista de todos ellos. Sin duda merece la pena leer su autobiografía Music On My Mind [6]. Además, “The Lion” era único como compositor. No hay duda de que Duke Ellington mandaba a los miembros de su orquesta a que le escucharan. Las sublimes modulaciones en las dos primeras partes de “Morning Air” son espectaculares y asombrosas incluso para un compositor clásico.

James P. Johnson era el más preciso y el que tenía más swing. Fats Waller tenía el sonido más rotundo y grasiento al piano. No puedo destacar a ninguno, todos son mis favoritos. Hay otro músico que adoro, Cliff Jackson.

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: Algunos músicos, como Fats Waller, pertenecían también al mundo del espectáculo. ¿Piensa usted que el enorme talento y habilidad técnica de Waller de alguna manera se desperdició con su lado cómico y con el material de baja calidad que muchas veces se veía obligado a grabar?

BERND LHOTZKY: A algunos les gusta ver la vida de Fats Waller como una tragedia. No sé, en mi opinión su humor va perfectamente acorde con su manera de tocar y a veces es divertidísimo oírle interpretar toda esa basura. Yo sugeriría lo siguiente: admiremos a Fats como uno de los más grandes cómicos que ha habido y además no olvidemos que fue el más grande pianista de su generación. ¿Es esto en realidad tan triste?

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: Para acabar con la revisión de algunas de las más importantes figuras, hablemos de nuevo de Art Tatum. Aunque no se le considera normalmente como un pianista de stride, Tatum proviene de esa tradición y, desde luego, podía tocar stride maravillosamente. ¿Qué rasgo destacaría en el piano de Art Tatum? ¿Y qué grabación suya recomendaría?

BERND LHOTZKY: La manera de tocar de Art Tatum es sencillamente abrumadora. Cuando le escuchas es como mirar a través de un caleidoscopio, como un prisma que descompone la luz en millones de destellos con todos los colores del arco iris. Lo que más admiro de Tatum es su audacia. Entre mis discos favoritos de están aquellas grabaciones en directo de 1955, en las que Tatum toca en una fiesta privada y que fueron publicadas hace algunos años bajo el título 20th Century Piano Genius [7]. Esas grabaciones son extraordinarias. Las Pablo Group Masterpieces [8] son también geniales, sobre todo la sesión con Ben Webster.

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: Hablando de las relaciones entre el stride y la música clásica: usted tiene formación clásica de piano y todavía toca música clásica. ¿Cree usted que esa educación clásica es necesaria o simplemente recomendable para un pianista de stride?

BERND LHOTZKY: Mis estudios clásicos ayudaron en gran medida. Pero, por ejemplo, mi amigo Louis Mazetier se negó a recibir clases de piano porque las encontraba muy aburridas y, sin embargo, tiene una técnica magnífica al teclado.

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: Por otra parte, algunos pianistas han usado composiciones clásicas para adaptarlas al idioma del stride. Por mencionar sólo algunos ejemplos, uno de los caballos de batalla de Donald Lambert era “Anitra’s Dance” de Grieg y Dick Wellstood solía adaptar piezas de música clásica, como en su “Paganini Thing”. Usted ha grabado un disco de solos y dúos de piano con Dick Hyman, Stridin’ The Classics (Jazz Connaisseur, 2004).

BERND LHOTZKY: Ese fue un proyecto maravilloso al que dedicamos mucho tiempo. Fue muy interesante trabajar sobre formas musicales más extensas, como el refinado “Waltz Of The Flowers” con sus diversas partes. Aparte de la forma, también respetamos las tonalidades originales. Este álbum fue algo muy especial del que estoy muy orgulloso. Grabar con un maestro como Dick Hyman fue un privilegio.

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: Como ya ha mencionado, aparte de sus proyectos de solos y dúos de piano, también forma parte del grupo Echoes of Swing, con Chris Hopkins (saxo alto), Colin Dawson (trompeta y voz) y Oliver Mewes (batería) y en su versión ampliada, la Echoes Of Swing Orchestra. ¿Cómo encajan estos grupos en su carrera?

BERND LHOTZKY: Ahora mismo estoy tocando más con Echoes Of Swing que haciendo piano solo y lo estoy disfrutando mucho. Estamos a punto de sacar un nuevo álbum, Four Jokers In The Pack, y el próximo año celebraremos nuestro décimo aniversario. A lo largo de la última década nos hemos hecho muy buenos amigos y los conciertos y las giras son divertidísimos.

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: Aparte de este nuevo disco en ciernes, y después de grabar Tandem con Chris Hopkins (Echoes of Swing Productions, 2005), el aclamado disco de piano solo Piano Portrait (Arbors, 2005) y Three’s A Crowd (2006) con Shaunette Hildabrandt y Frank Roberscheuten, ¿en qué otros proyectos está usted trabajando?

BERND LHOTZKY: Ahora mismo estoy de gira con Dick Hyman, Rossano Sportiello y Chris Hopkins [9]. El resto del año lo tendré muy ocupado. El próximo tocaremos más que nunca con Echoes Of Swing. Y también trabajaré bastante en el nuevo trío con Frank Roberscheuten y Shaunette Hildabrand, Three’s A Crowd. La formación de piano, vocalista y saxofón o clarinete es muy especial y permite mucha libertad.

También soy el director musical del festival de swing de Schloss Elmau. Para el próximo año hemos invitado a Howard Alden, Dan Barreto, Rebecca Kilgore y otros muchos. Estoy deseando que llegue este evento.

AGUSTÍN PÉREZ: Y para finalizar, ¿por qué recomendaría el piano stride a un aficionado medio al jazz que no conozca este estilo?

BERND LHOTZKY: Es una música muy alegre, rica en armonías y sonido, con un ritmo muy marcado y lleno de vitalidad. Creo que incluso el aficionado moderno de jazz debe ser consciente de dónde viene esta música, dónde están las raíces. Es importante tener una mente abierta y escuchar diferentes estilos. Sólo así se puede evitar el tener una visión parcial. La gran variedad de individuos con caracteres fuertes y singulares, pero unidos por una gran camaradería, hace que el jazz sea una cultura tan rica.

Notas

Esta entrevista se realizó en inglés por email y fue posteriormente traducida al castellano. Tengo que agradecer a Bernd Lhotzky su amabilidad, buena disposición y paciencia para sentarse ante el teclado (del ordenador en este caso).

Muchas gracias a Fernando Ortiz de Urbina por su asesoramiento a la hora de preparar la entrevista y de encarar la traducción.

[1] http://www.lhotzky.de/

[2] –Der Lügner (Imago Films, 1995). Dirigida por Stefan Panzner e interpretada por Josef Schwarz, Franz Tscherne,Sylvia Weiss, Cornel Franz, Richard Panzner, Ursula-Marie Rehm y Stefan Rutz.
-A Few Moves (Imago Films, 1996). Dirigida por Stefan Panzner e interpretada por Lukas Miko y Emily Word.
-Chocolate Pain (CH-Media, 1999). Dirigida por Stefan Panzner e interpretada por Christine Neubauer, Bernhard Bauer, Doris Plenert, Wolfgang Sowa, George Lenz y Frederic Voges.
-Exil (Lieblingsfilm GbR/HFF, 2004). Dirigida por Stefan Panzner e interpretada por Thomas Loibl, Rudolf Waldemar, Thomas Fischer, Ulrich Günther y Alexandra Schiffer.

[3] En las primeras décadas del siglo XX algunos pianistas solían autodenominarse ticklers. Literalmente, to tickle significa hacer cosquillas y, por extensión, to tickle the ivories significa tocar el piano.

[4] Gunther Schuller: The Swing Era. The Development Of Jazz, 1930-1945 (Oxford University Press, 1989), páginas 476 a 502.

[5] Actualmente disponibles en The Blue Note Jazzmen. Blue Note 21262 (2 CD).

[6] Willie “The Lion” Smith y George Hoefer: Music On My Mind. The Memoirs Of An American Pianist (Jazz Book Club/MacGibbon&Kee, 1966). Reeditado por Da Capo Press, 1978.

[7] Art Tatum: 20th Century Piano Genius. Verve 531 763-2 (2 CD).

[8] Art Tatum: The Complete Pablo Group Masterpieces. Pablo 6PACD-4401-2 (6 CD). También disponible en 8 CDs sencillos: Tatum Group Masterpieces, vol. 1-8. Pablo PACD-2405-424-2 a PACD-2405-431-2.

[9] Más información en: http://stridepianosummit.de/

DISCOGRAFÍA DE BERND LHOTZKY

Solos y dúos de piano:

- Watch Out! (Bernd Lhotzky Produktions, 1993). Piano solo.
- Lhotzky (HotSky Records, 1996). Piano solo.
- Just You, Just Me (HotSky Records, 1996). Con David Paquette (piano y voz).
- Elmau Stride Project (HotSky Records, 1997). Con Louis Mazetier (piano) y Susan Dumas (voz).
- Stridin’ High (Jazz Connaisseur, 1997). Con Ralph Sutton (piano).
- Stridewalk (Jazz Connaisseur, 2000). Piano solo.
- Stridin’ The Classics (Jazz Connaisseur, 2004). Con Dick Hyman (piano).
- Tandem (Echoes Of Swing Productions, 2005). Con Chris Hopkins (piano).
- Piano Portrait (Arbors Records, 2005). Piano solo.

Con Echoes Of Swing:

- Harlem Reflections (HotSky Records, 1998).
- Live im Kulturhaus Kornwestheim (edición privada, 1999).
- Harlem Joys (Echoes Of Swing Productions, 2000).
- You’ve Got To Be Modernistic (Echoes of Swing Productions, 2003).
- The Fusion (Echoes Of Swing Productions, 2003). Con la Echoes Of Swing Orchestra.
- Four Jokers In The Pack (Echoes Of Swing Productions, 2006).

Otras grabaciones:

- Me, My Old Grand Dad & Mr. Todd (Academica, 1995). Con Bill Castle (drums) y Gary Todd (contrabajo).
- Piano Duos With Trevor Richards (HotSky Records, 1995). Con Trevor Richards (batería) y Peter Müller (clarinete).
- Fats Enough (HotSky Records, 1997). Con Bob Barnard (corneta), Chris Hopkins (saxo alto) y Thomas Jähn (batería).
- Sophisticated (Art By Heart Records, 1997). Con Colin Dawson (trompeta).
- Trios (Hot Club Du Matinais, 1998). Con Bob Barnard (corneta), Gary Todd (contrabajo), Bernard Artault y Oliver Mewes (batería) y John Paiva (guitarra).
- Trevor Richards New Orleans Trio (New Orleans Jazz Production, 1999). Con Evan Christopher (saxos alto y tenor, clarinete, voz) y Trevor Richards (batería).
- Three’s A Crowd (Opening Night, 2006). Con Shaunette Hildabrandt (voz) y Frank Roberscheuten (saxos alto y tenor y clarinete).

© Agustín Pérez Gasco, Tomajazz, 2006

--------------------------------------------------

En 2008, Bernd Lhotzky publicó un disco a dúo con el trompetista norteamericano Duke Heitger, titulado "Doin' The Voom Voom" y editado por el sello Arbors.

Jelly Roll Morton & The Lion: Finger Buster vs The Finger Breaker

In his memoirs, Willie The Lion Smith recalls the story of a mythical cutting contest between him and Jelly Roll Morton in the early thirties:

“Some people used to put me on by asking whether jazz was born in New Orleans and whether or not Jelly Roll invented it. I said once that was one of the worst things I ever heard. What I meant was that most of the jazz I knew was, in the beginning, from the brickyards. And another thing, jazz comes from the person’s soul and not from a state. But Jelly Roll was a guy who always talked a lot.

He used to be around the Rhythm Club every day and stand out on the corner and he used to bull and con all those fellows. He had his twenty-dollar gold piece on and he’d stand out there with a bankroll, meaning money, so every time I’d come around, almost all the guys who used to play piano kept quiet. Sometimes I’d lay for Fats and Jimmy [James P. Johnson]. Sometimes I’d even lay for Tatum. But I used to come around especially on Friday and Saturday looking for Jelly. I went around this one Friday and he was standing on the corner."

“Look, Mr. One-Hand,” I said, “let’s go inside and let me give you your lessons in cutting.” So Jelly and I would go inside by the piano. I was the only one he would stand and listen to and then he didn’t open his mouth. I must have played nearly everything you could name and when I got through, I said, “Well, Jelly, you’ll keep quiet now.” And, true as I’m sitting here, Jelly would be quiet.”

In “Willie the Lion”, a documentary produced and directed by Marc Fields, Willie recalls the encounter in a slightly different way:

“Well, I knew Jelly Roll well. I think I was the one of the few who did know him… He was a character. Quite a talker, he had a habit of tearing people apart. I challenged him in the Hoofer’s Club, in the Rhythm Club, I got him before nearly 300 musicians and I said “You call the terms and I’ll call them on the piano, and I’m gonna make you remember piano as long as you live”. And I could.”

After that, whenever anybody referred to Jelly Roll Morton, the Lion would say, “Oh, you mean Mr. One-Hand”, noting the supremacy of the “two-fisted” (as they used to call themselves) Harlem piano players. In fact, in New Orleans and Chicago, Morton was generally known that he could cut people, but when he went to New York, the New York pianists really intimidated him, and Willie did.

In that era of house rent parties and cutting contests, every tickler used to have a challenge piece to defeat the competition. For a time, Willie The Lion Smith had “Finger Buster”, a piece that, in Dick Hyman’s words “was clearly throwing down the gauntlet, so that no amateurs would dare to compete the mighty Lion as he strode into a place.”

“Finger Buster” was composed (in F) by The Lion in 1934 and recorded that same year, but this first version remained unissued for many years. The first 32 bars of this piece were written at Clarence Williams’ office while the Lion was doing technique exercises, and The Lion said he invented it by playing around with a scale as fast and as loud as he could.

As pianist Tom Roberts describes in the liner notes for his own disc “In The Lion’s Den” (Stomp Off Records CD 1392), “the most remarkable section of the tune is the second strain. Here the left hand plays a beautiful descending counter line simultaneously with a variation on the Charleston rhythm while the right hand plays a figure in contrary motion. Rhythmically, tension is created by the juxtaposition of right hand figures in 3 against the left hand in 4. At the end of the 2nd strain, as well as the coda of the entire piece, he strays far away from the conventional chords associated with the key and creates one of his most magical musical moments”.

The definitive solo recording of this piece came in the famous January 10, 1939 session for Commodore (where he cut 14 wonderful piano solos) and was issued on Commodore 522 coupled with “Rippling Waters”.


In the Jazz Man recording session from December 1938, that took place at the Rialto Theater Building in Washington, Jelly Roll Morton cut five sides, one of them being a piano solo piece called “Finger Buster” (matrix number MLB-145) issued on Jazz Man JM 12, coupled with “Creepy Feeling”. “Finger Buster” contains a mighty left hand that thunders up and down the octaves, while the right hand flies with a torrent of arpeggios and trills. Everything goes at super fast speed (metronomique speed rises up to 304) and in the last part pianist Morten Gunnar Larsen sees “a conscious caricature of stride piano technique”. In November 1942 the name of the tune was changed to “The Finger Breaker”, when Roy Carew made a copyright application to the Library of Congress. Morton had not bothered to do so himself, on the assumption that his amazing, breakneck, bravura piano piece would deter all competitions. Other sources state that the piece was called “The Finger Breaker” from the start and that I got mislabeled in the Jazz Man 78 rpm disc.

Anyway, through the years, Willie The Lion Smith’s “Finger Buster” and Jelly Roll Morton’s “Finger Buster/The Finger Breaker”, which are certainly different pieces, have been mistaken in liner notes and discographical notes from quite a few reissues. A different matter is Leonard Feather’s assertion, in the liner notes for Dick Hyman’s Columbia LP with the music of Jelly Roll Morton, that Morton’s “The Finger Breaker” was his only real piece of "stride" piano. As pianist Butch Thompson told us in the Stride Piano List a few years ago, “it isn't stride piano and doesn't sound like it. It sounds like Morton playing fast, but nothing like James P. or any of the others. Morton's right hand riffs are not characteristic stride figures and the left hand bass notes are an octave higher than you would expect from a fully fledged stride player. Morton was his own man.”

Stride Piano Masters - Obituaries

Morbid as this may seem, obituaries are part of every biographical jazz research through newspapers archives. Not that they usually provide too much new information to the average jazz fan (with some good exceptions, of course), but as a secondary source sometimes they can help fixing or confirming the date of passing for long gone musicians.

Here's a good sample, from the New York Times Digital Archive.

[click on the images to get higher resolution scans]

--------------------------------------------------

Aunque pueda parecer morboso, en cualquier investigación biográfica en la que se bucee en los archivos de un periódico, no puede faltar la localización del obituario del músico en cuestión. Normalmente, y con algunas excepciones muy notables, los obituarios no aportan mucho al aficionado medio, pero son una fuente de información secundaria muy interesante para poder fijar o confirmar fechas de fallecimiento muy lejanas en el tiempo.

Aquí va una buena selección de obituarios de maestros del Harlem Stride Piano, sacada a base de tiempo (y dinero) del archivo digital del New York Times.

[pincha en la imagen para obtener mayor resolución]