see a fine picture: herman leonard

dizzy gillespie and sonny stitt, nyc, new york, 1953. © herman leonard, 1953. via the morrison hotel gallery.

almost forgot to mention in "catching up" with professor o'meally, i found out that there's an exhibition of beautiful jazz portraits, photographed by herman leonard, at lincoln center. (the professor is part of the curatorial group.) it will be on view through february 14, 2010. admission is free.

address: peter jay sharp arcade, 5th floor, frederick p. rose hall. jazz at lincoln center, broadway at 60th street, ny, ny.

hours: tuesday through sunday from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. and 6 p.m. to 11 p.m. and monday from 6 p.m. to 11 p.m.

the photographs are also on sale via the morrison hotel gallery. have a look at the set...

a portion of proceeds from the sale of photographs will benefit jazz at lincoln center.

tgtt (too good to title)

while searching for information about a "great teachers" event that i'm supposed to attend uptown on thursday, i found my way to the jazzman testifies, an article about one of my favorite teachers, professor robert g. o'meally. professor o'meally is the zora neale hurston professor of literature at columbia university and the founder of the university's center for jazz studies. it's fair to say that barnard and columbia had its share of celebrated professors, some who strutted through bi-weekly lectures and others whose amazing dullness belied their stellar scholarly reputation.

but professor o'meally was of a different class. the kind of person who made you relax, but also sit up straight. he was smooth--quietly elegant in every manner, from the way he dressed to the way he addressed us. his lectures were instructive of course, but he seemed to want more to guide and inspire conversation. the class wasn't merely about listening to music-- it was about a culture that was alive. and he presented it with an urgency and earnestness. if you listen to this npr interview, "the intersection of jazz and social protest," conducted by farai chideya in 2008, you'll have an idea of what he's like.

i remember how well he listened--leaning in, ear-first, sometimes nodding, as if we were musicians trading fours. i loved that he often said "agreed!" instead of "yes!" (for a time i tried to adopt that exclamation as an o'meally homage.) i don't know how much i excelled in that class, but i felt encouraged in the inquiries i attempted (not surprisingly, sometimes about sports and photography and improvisation).

***

i've spent that last couple of nights looking though my notebook (yes, i still have it. and boy, was my handwriting nice back then). i'll need to refer back to the texts for a proper de-coding of some. i do wish i had taken better notes about the music that he played for every class intro.

t.g.t.t. (too good to title), performed by alice babs, one of duke ellington's favorite singers, has been a favorite since he played it for us (unfortunately, i don't seem to be able to find a link with the full track). so, too, with heaven which ellington wrote expressly for her. i teared up the first time i heard it--and i still can't comprehend the notes she hits for this number. she may be just a touch off in the live recording. sadder to me is this video doesn't show the full performance of johnny hodges on alto sax. you can hear him on the cd recording of the second sacred concert.

celebrate: bewitched, bothered, and bewildered

today is the birthday of lorenz hart-- new yorker, columbia alum, romantic, lovely and lonely lyricist, and lifelong collaborator with richard rodgers. hughson mooney wrote a brief, but interesting bio on hart in which he suggest that hart's lyrics, perhaps even better than cole porter's, reflected the voice of the urban, upper-middle class generation between the first and second world wars. porter was saucier, racier, more urbane--and i favor, on the whole, his work. but boy, can hart ever do love, melancholy, clever yearning:

bewitched, bothered, and bewildered

after one whole quart of brandy
like a daisy i'm awake
with no bromo seltzer handy,
i don't even shake

men are not a new sensation;
i've done pretty well, i think.
but this half-pint imitation
put me on the blink

i'm wild again
beguiled again
a simpering, whimpering child again
bewitched, bothered and bewildered am i

couldn't sleep
and wouldn't sleep
until i could sleep where i shouldn't sleep
bewitched, bothered and bewildered am i

lost my heart but what of it?
my mistake i agree.
he's a laugh, but i love it
because the laugh's on me.

a pill he is
but still he is
all mine and i'll keep him until he is
bewitched, bothered and bewildered
like me.

seen a lot
i mean i lot
but now i'm like sweet seventeen a lot
bewitched, bothered and bewildered am i

i'll sing to him
each spring to him
and worship the trousers that cling to him
bewitched, bothered and bewildered am i

when he talks he is seeking
words to get off his chest.
horizontally speaking
he's at his very best.

vexed again
perplexed again
thank god i can't be over-sexed again
bewitched, bothered and bewildered am i

wise at last
my eyes at last
are cutting you down to your size at last
bewitched, bothered and bewildered no more

burned a lot
but learned a lot
and now you are broke, though you earned a lot
bewitched, bothered and bewildered no more

couldn't eat
was dyspeptic
life was so hard to bear;
now my heart's antiseptic
since you moved out of there

romance-finis
your chance-finis
those ants that invaded my pants-finis
bewitched, bothered and bewildered no more.

when ella sings them, these lyrics that can at first read bluesy or bitter (or maybe even a bit looney), are sweeter and dreamier.

she, like many who have recorded it, made some lyrical changes:

until i could sleep where i shouldn't sleep became when love came and told me i shouldn't sleep

my mistake i agree becomes he is cold I agree

he's a laugh but i love it becomes he can laugh but i love it

he's a pill...becomes he's a fool...

worship the trousers that cling to him becomes and long for the day when i'll cling to him in the first verse (but she brings back the original lyrics for the second)

seen a lot is i've sinned a lot...

and i think she thanks god she can get over-sexed again...

anyway, you get the idea. i hear her version and think she gets the guy in the end. or at least, she gets what she wants. i like that.

***

bewitched, bothered, and bewildered is one of the best known tunes from the musical pal joey. i was surprised to learn that the musical version was based on a series of short stories, written as letters (it can be properly called an epistolary novel, my new favorite term), by john o'hara, which appeared in the new yorker. this bit of news got me very excited, until i read a little more about john o'hara. he sounds awful.

***

blue moon (elvis)

blue moon,
you saw me standing alone
without a dream in my heart
without a love on my own.
blue moon,
you knew just what I was there for
you heard me saying a prayer for
somebody I really could care for.
and then there suddenly appeared before me,
the only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper, "please adore me."
and when I looked,
the moon had turned to gold.
blue moon,
now I'm lo longer alone
without a dream in my heart
without a love on my own.

elvis' version of blue moon was the first cross-over/rock and roll hit for rodgers and hart--and it actually was the 4th iteration of the song. the first 3 lyric versions were all written while the duo was under contract to MGM. the first version was to be sung by jean harlow in the film "hollywood party," but ultimately neither jean harlow, nor the song appeared in the film. the second and third versions were written for manhattan melodrama (one of my favorite flicks, starring myrna loy and clark gable).

image via http://www.doctormacro1.info/

image via http://www.doctormacro1.info/

***
my funny valentine (chet baker)

be hold the way our fine feathered-friend
his virtue doth parade.
thou knowest not my dim witted friend,
the picture thou hast made.
thy vacant brow and thy tousled hair
conceal thy good intent.
thou noble upright, truthful, sincere
and slightly dopey gent- you are..

my funny valentine
sweet comic valentine
you make me smile with my heart
you looks are laughable, unphotographable
yet you're my favorite work of art
is your figure less than greek
is your mouth a little bit weak
when you open it to speak, are you smart?
don't change a hair for me
not if you care for me
stay little valentine stay
each day is valentine's day

blossom dearie (1926-2009)

many years ago, i studied the piano. only classical stuff--chopin, rachmaninoff--and i was pretty good at it. but one of the things i disliked intensely was to be at a party at home, or anywhere there was a piano. someone would invariably beckon me start playing. and it would make me incredibly self-conscious and embarrassed. for me, nerves plus no sheet music equalled disaster. i'd miss a note or forget a section and have to start all over again, full of regret. but more to the point, i wondered who at this party really wanted to hear me play the fantasie impromptu? or the prelude in c# minor?

i would have much preferred this scenario. to walk up to a piano, without anyone taking much notice, ease into a few simple jazz chords, that were familiar to the room, maybe start to sing a little bit, just above a whisper. then folks would start toe-tapping, head-bobbing, maybe smile and sing along. others would barely notice, but it just might make them linger over their drink and conversation a little bit longer. it wouldn't be so much entertainment, as a mood-enhancer.

when i hear blossom dearie's music, that's exactly what i envision.
not a show-stopper, just a gal, at the piano.
her voice is a bit thin and quiet, but so charming.
and her piano playing doesn't break boundaries--she just plays it nice and straight.
i could do far worse than to master "more than you know" in her style.

***
it was a handful of years ago when i first saw this cover of her 1957 studio album. i fell in love with her look, her groovy glasses--she was a bespectacled shelley winters! or, better yet, a character actor on an i love lucy episode.

i took a look at the track listing (a mix of familiar tunes--thou swell, i won't dance--and some that definitely intrigued me--lover man, tout doucemont, comment allez vous) but once i read that she was the pianist, i just had to give her a listen.

i've been devotee ever since.
she passed away over the weekend, so perhaps if you haven't heard much of her or her music, you will in the coming days.

here are a couple of favorites of mine. hope they make your day a bit lighter and brighter.

'deed i do
everything i've got
i won't dance
you for me

claxography

natalie wood in nyc, photographed by william claxton, in 1961.

william claxton, whose stills of the west coast jazz scene in the 1950s are some of the most intimate and acclaimed, and whose portraits of chet baker chronicled and hastened the musician's ascent to stardom, died today at the age of 80.


i'm familiar with some of claxton's work (any half-decent poster or postcard shop in the city offers this image for sale in one form or another; who hasn't seen this one of sinatra? and this shot was known to me long before chet baker was) but i knew little about the man himself, or the breadth of his career.

and so today, i did some reading...

i learned from the nytimes' obit that he first became known for photographing his subjects, like sonny rollins, in "unorthodox" outdoor settings.

the la times' more anecdotal tribute (a too-amazing-to-imagine encounter with charlie parker) will pique the interest of fledgling photographers and jazz aficionados, and includes claxton's musings on the similarities between jazz and photography ("They're alike in their improvisation and their spontaneousness. They happen at the same moment that you're hearing something and you're seeing something, and you record it and it's frozen forever").

i was most surprised to find out that he was the art director at motor trend magazine for more than a decade. but after reading of his passion for sports cars, race cars, and motorcycles, which he shared with another of his oft-photographed subjects, steve mcqueen, it made perfect sense.

part of claxton's talent--and some might call this an art--was his ability to engender the trust of his subjects, by getting to know them, and letting them know him. and he promised not to portray them in a negative way. he was, in his own words, "dedicated to beauty" and he knew how to find it in his subjects.

these days, when photos can be and are so readily manipulated, and we, as a culture, delight in catching celebrities (and non-celebrities!) at their most compromised (and i can't say i'm immune to this phenomenon myself), and intimacy is often mistaken for being merely exposed, claxton's work takes on even more significance. his commitment to the expression of beauty, real intimacy, and honesty through photography is something that, hopefully, never gets lost.

for more on william claxton's fascinating life and work, and to hear "claxton on claxton," visit his site.