Themes
Songs
Chronology
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Collection Themes Songs Chronology | |
AFTER YOU, JERU | |
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| Joe La Barbera, Bob Magnusson, Bud Shank, Mike Wofford December 7 & 8, 1998 | |
LINER NOTES |
"It is a pleasure to see and hear Gerry's music kept alive by his good friends."
There is a fine line dividing the jazz composer from the jazz arranger. To complicate matters, many jazz compositions have had their genesis in improvised solos, giving rise to clarinetist Tony Scott's assertion that "it all starts with the soloist. What he plays today the arranger writes tomorrow." The most accomplished jazz writers have been men who succeeded in combining all of the main elements - soloist, composer and orchestrator. Duke Ellington is the prime example of the genre and Gerry Mulligan is worthy of being mentioned in the same breath.
Any tribute to Mulligan demands a level of musicianship well above the norm. Bud Shank is an obvious choice as central figure to such a salute; he worked and recorded with Mulligan on a number of occasions and was himself a significant baritone saxist until he made the decision to concentrate on the alto. Albums such as New Groove and Barefoot Adventure made for the Pacific Jazz label in 1961 featured his forceful baritone in the company of such men as Carmell Jones, Bob Cooper and Mel Lewis. Bud is also steeped in the same traditions which gave rise to Gerry's music. Each saxophonist had a solid grounding of playing in the big bands before forming groups of their own and both found initial fame in the productive jazz scene of Southern California during the early Fifties.
Because many of Gerry's compositions were originally conceived on the saxophone, the melodic lines fall comfortably under the fingers for players of that instrument. With the alto and baritone both pitched in the key of Eflat, saxophonists have been drawn to Mulligan's music, although the universality of his writing is manifest in the world-wide acceptance of such pieces as "Walkin' Shoes," "Line for Lyons," etc. In the earliest days of the pianoless quartet, a lot of ideas arose out of the interplay between Mulligan and trumpeter Chet Baker. Years later Gerry stated, "(Chet) was the most perfect foil to work with. I've never yet to this day played with a musician who's quicker and less afraid to make a mistake. We'd sail into some song we'd never discussed or played before, yet it would sound like an arrangement. People would think it was an arrangement!" I first heard Gerry over three evenings in June, 1954, at the Salle Pleyel in Paris, and I was immediately struck by his attention to detail. One example must suffice: while his colleague Bob Brookmeyer soloed, Mulligan would play a counter line or sustained notes into the drape curtains at the back of the stage in order to achieve the correct balance between the instrumental voices. In all things musical Gerry Mulligan was a perfectionist.
When Bud Shank was preparing this tribute to Mulligan, he had a rich palette from which to work; he eventually came up with eleven pieces ranging in vintage from 1952 to 1995. After the success of his previous and much praised Fresh Sound release Bud Shank Plays the Music of Bill Evans (FSR 5012CD), he was anxious to reunite Mike Wofford, Bob Magnusson and Joe LaBarbera ("my favorite rhythm section") to assist with the project. Producer Dick Bank was equally determined to record the quartet in the same studio (Sage & Sound) and with the same engineer (Jim Mooney) as the Evans album.
It is ironic that a tune closely associated with Gerry was not actually written by him. "Bernie's Tune" was composed by the Washington, D.C.-based pianist Bernie Miller, whose place in jazz history is therefore assured thanks largely to Mulligan's exposure of the song. In 1976, Gerry decided to write a new melody line on top of Miller's chord changes and called it "Idol Gossip," choosing it as the title tune for an album he made for the Chiaroscuro label on 27 November 1976. Although the improvisations take place on the harmonies of the song rather than the melodic line the alteration to the tune sets up a different character to the piece. When Shank enters after the piano and bass solos he raises the temperature with two forceful choruses, then four more in which he shares the solo space with Joe LaBarbera.
"Song for Strayhorn" was premiered at a Carnegie Hall concert featuring Gerry and Chet Baker on 24 November 1974. Subsequently, recordings made that evening were issued by CTI as an album titled simply, Carnegie Hall Concert. Dedicated to the late Billy Strayhorn, it has a fittingly beautiful theme which Shank plays superbly, imparting a lyrical yet plaintive quality. In his second chorus, he moves gracefully away from the theme making way for Mike Wofford in the third chorus whose fine piano solo is enhanced by the intelligent cymbal work of LaBarbera. This tribute to Strayhorn inevitably evokes memories, too, of Duke Ellington and it was while Bud was recording the soundtrack music for the film Assault on a Queen (written by Ellington) in January, 1966, that Duke offered Shank a job in his band. Flattered and honored, he seriously considered it but decided that a return to the road was not for him. It remains a compliment he is not likely to forget.
Jazz abounds in puzzles over the precise authorship of well-known pieces and "The Red Door" is one of them. There is no argument over the inspiration for the title; it was a reference to the door leading into a building on Manhattan's West Forty-seventh Street where Don Jose had a rehearsal studio and the likes of Zoot Sims, AI Cohn, Gerry Mulligan et al. came to jam. Noted authority Ira Gitler attended those sessions, which began in 1949. On various record releases it has been composer-credited to Sims and again to Mulligan. Nowadays it is usually given joint credit to Zoot and Gerry. It was recorded for the Prestige label in New York (with Sims, Cohn and Kai Winding) on 8 September 1952. Al Cohn did the arrangement. At that time Mulligan had been resident in California for just over six months and was leading his own quartet with Chet Baker. Years later he confirmed to Gordon Jack that Zoot wrote the "A" section but he, Gerry, had composed the middle-eight. (As Gordon has pointed out, there was never any need for a prolific and original composer like Mulligan to try to claim credit for someone else's work.) The music itself is less complicated than its antecedents. A thirty-two bar chorus tune in the familiar AABA format, it seems made for swinging and there are powerful alto choruses with some of those built-in, self-propelling phrases so beloved of Zoot in full flight. This is the kind of music which brings a smile of satisfaction accompanied by joyful foot-tapping.
"I Hear the Shadows Dancing" is latter-day Mulligan and was premiered on the A&M album Lonesome Boulevard, recorded in March and September, 1989. On that issue it was titled "I Heard..." but when Gene Lees added a lyric he and Gerry agreed that "hear" was more suitable. This is one of Mulligan's most attractive ballads and Mike Wofford sets the mood with his opening statement. Bud and Mike play an out-of-tempo introduction before the alto eases into the melody with its beautiful changes and gracefully contoured line. Shank improvises around the melody in the second chorus, then it is Wofford's turn playing over brushes and upper register bass from Magnusson. Bud comes back on for a final half chorus to complete a superlative interpretation of an outstanding piece of music. This particular number also had another important function, as Bud explained. "The thought occurred to me that if Gerry wrote something like `Shadows' during the latter part of his life, there must be more out there. Too few of us were aware of what he was doing in the late Eighties and early Nineties. More telephone calls, more research, more conversation with Franca. Result? This project. `I Hear the Shadows Dancing' started it all."
"Rico Apollo" also comes from the Lonesome Boulevard album and is dedicated to one of the back-stage technicians at Harlem's Apollo Theater who could truly be described as a character. Gerry remembered the theater from the days he had worked there with Charlie Parker, Georgie Auld, Dinah Washington, Stan Getz, Chubby Jackson, et al. Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughan started on the road to success after appearing there on amateur night. Mulligan's memory of those nights is vivid. "Rico was the head stagehand at the theater, and on Tuesday nights at midnight he was very busy. He impersonated a kind of witch-doctor character in a grass skirt and battered top hat who danced onto the stage all benevolence when a contestant was good - a kind of escort from the stage into the wings. But if the contestant was truly awful he'd bound onto the stage blowing his policeman's whistle, firing his blank pistol and, to the accompaniment of appropriately demonic music, pull his hapless victim off stage with his giant shepherd's hook!" This tomfoolery by Rico was captured on record by Vanguard in January, 1956, when they taped their Night at the Apollo album. Bud had happy memories of Rico, too. "I worked at the Apollo several times in 1947-48 with Charlie Barnet. I most certainly do remember Rico. His antics were the equivalent of a Major Bowes gong. This is a tune appropriately dedicated - and it's fun to play." (Major Edward Bowes hosted his Original Amateur Hour on network radio from the mid Thirties. He struck a gong during an unacceptable performance and the contestant beat a hasty retreat.)
"Line for Lyons" is one of the most popular numbers originally played by Gerry's quartet. The initial recording was for Fantasy on 2 September 1952 but here it is given a decidedly new treatment. By slowing the tempo and introducing a gentle bossa nova rhythm in the middle-eight it becomes a different musical experience. It opens with just Bud and Bob for the first sixteen bars (and note Mag's impressive double-stopping) before piano and drums enter at the middle-eight. This is certainly one of the album's highlights. As Bud said later, "When this version is heard there could be many raised eyebrows. I'll bet Gerry is laughing - laughing - laughing!
There is a quick hello from John Mandel in the coda."
"North Atlantic Run" is another tune from the 1976 Idol Gossip album and is a breathtaking piece of music making. It appears to have a seventy-two bar chorus made up of sixteen-sixteen-sixteen-sixteen plus an eight bar tag. There is an unexpected modulation towards the end of the chorus on what is clearly not a tune for beginners! Theme, alto chorus, piano chorus, a chorus shared between alto and drums, then back to the theme. "We did it in just one take," says Bud. "Whoo-eee!ll"
"0 Great Spirit" is one of Mulligan's last works and was included in the December, 1995, album The Gerry Mulligan Legacy (Encoded Jazz), recorded just a month before he died. It has vocals by Diva Gray and Darryl Tookes. "Towards the end of his life," Bud observed, "Gerry became very spiritual. He discovered an inspiring poem written by Chief Yellow Lark, a Sioux Indian, in 1887. He treated the poem as a lyric and wrote appropriately inspiring music." Shank decided to include the piece in his album. "Franca sent a demo recording Gerry had made, a lead sheet, and a copy of the poem. He had not included any chord changes, not even any counter lines to imply chords on the lead sheet. So I wrote what I thought the chords should be. I sent a copy (just melody, no chords) to Mike Wofford and asked him to do the same. His were entirely different from mine - so we used them both. Mike's are the chords used on the first - rubato - chorus. Mine are used on the second - improvised - chorus. There is something from both of us in the coda."
"Night Lights" is the title tune from an album made for the Philips label on 12 September 1963. It was Doug Ramsey who drew Bud's attention to the piece when he played it for him over the telephone. "I called Cathie Phillips (Gerry's secretary since 1981)," said Shank, "and asked for a lead sheet. She sent me a piece of music paper with `Night Lights' written at the top. At the bottom it indicated Mulligan Music, Inc., had published it in 1956. It included the necessary first and second endings, coda and chord symbols - but not one note. Nowhere was there a single musical note. Interesting concept. They improvised the whole thing? No way! So I took the melody off a record I was lucky to find. I have Gerry's noteless lead sheet framed and it now hangs on my studio wall."
The original version of "Bark for Barksdale" was recorded for Fantasy on 2 September 1952-the same session which produced "Line for Lyons." Whereas "Line for Lyons" was dedicated to San Francisco disc jockey Jimmy Lyons, this tune was written for Oakland disc jockey Don Barksdale - the two men separated by the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge. Barksdale, at six-foot-six a big basketballer for his time, played at UCLA, was named to the United States Olympic Team for the 1948 London Games, then joined the Boston Celtics in the NBA. Gerry's salute to Don has a martial flavor (Bud calls it a fanfare) and a logical construction to its melody. It is, in fact, a very economical tune in the sense that the middle-eight is actually the same as the "A" section but transposed up a fourth. Bud's cadenza take-off into his four chorus solo is an astonishing example of jazz at its most exciting. From this springboard Shank builds and develops his solo using his distinctive cutting sound. Before the recapitulation of the theme there are two choruses featuring Mike and Joe which will remind many of those spontaneously conceived duets created by Russ Freeman and Shelly Marine.
"Theme for Jobim" was recorded on 25 June 1964 for Limelight and comes from a delightful Mulligan album titled Butterfly with Hiccups. "The first time this lovely song surfaced during my research I decided to pass ...too much bossa nova in my life," reflected Bud. But Dick Bank persisted and Shank admitted he was very pleased to have included it in the program. It opens with alto and piano before Mike Wofford takes the first chorus - out of tempo - presenting the wistful theme. Bud moves in on top of a Latin American rhythm and many will be reminded of those days back in 1952 when the alto saxist and guitarist Laurindo Almeida, supported by bassist Harry Babasin and drummer Roy Harte, played at The Haig during the same period as the original Gerry Mulligan Quartet.
"After You, Jeru" was written specifically for this Compact Disc by Bud, a man with a considerable track record as a composer. "I wanted to show musically how much I thought of Gerry, the importance and depth of his life-and the sadness of his death. My wife Linda suggested the title. If our paths should cross in the next life, I will - as in this life - say, `After You, Jeru.' "
I am of the opinion that no other jazz musician could have produced such a sincere, well-rounded and complete tribute to Gerry Mulligan as Bud Shank and his colleagues have done here. It also happens to be one of the finest recordings Bud has made in a long and consistently outstanding career.
ALUN MORGANFebruary, 1999 Alun Morgan has been one of the most respected journalists in jazz for more than forty years, and today retains the keen interest and enthusiasm he demonstrated when it all began for him. An architect by profession (he retired in 1991), he became interested in jazz during World War II, the recordings of Bunny Berigan, Jelly Roll Morton and Muggsy Spanier having drawn him to the idiom. He commenced broadcasting on jazz for the BBC in 1954 - the year he wrote his first liner notes for the British Vogue label. Two years later (with Raymond Horricks), he co-authored the book, Modern Jazz, which was to have a profound influence on those in Britain who were just discovering jazz, as well as those who were already "hooked." A contributor to Jazz Monthly throughout its entire existence (1955 to 1971), his considerable knowledge of the history of jazz has prepared him well for the more than two thousand liner notes (a record for records?) he has written for dozens of British, European and American labels. A Welshman by birth, he resides in Gillingham, Kent. Bud Shank could be characterized as ...a survivor. If outliving his dear friends Shelly, Coop and Shorty validates that pronouncement, then it is accurate. But if a survivor is someone on the sea of life, clinging to a piece of driftwood and hoping his time is not yet up - forget it! In his seventy-third year, the man's enthusiasm endures and the commitment is genuine. There are those who have followed Bud since the Fifties that say he is playing better than ever; most assuredly different than the slim young fellow in conservative attire, clean cut and crew cut, whose presence helped define West Coast jazz - assuming that after all these years it has been defined. It was in Dayton, Ohio, that Clifford Everett Shank, Jr., was born on 27 May 1926. At the age of ten he began on a metal clarinet, next came the alto, and at fourteen, the tenor. By then he had made the decision to become a professional musician. Father Cliff had been recalled to active duty in the Army (November, 1940), and ultimately was stationed in North Carolina. Shank attended Durham High School, graduating in June, 1944. Strabismus, a congenital eye condition, rendered him unfit for the military. In medical terms, it is the abnormal deviation of one eye in relation to the other; the brain rapidly suppresses the image from the wandering eye. The right one turned outward, shut down, and became sightless. "I was introverted," he confided to Doug Ramsey in the notes for The Pacific Jazz Bud Shank Studio Sessions (Mosaic). The trauma shaped his persona and playing. An ophthamologist aligned the eyes in 1976, triggering the metamorphosis of Bud Shank. Shank spent two years at the University of North Carolina, leaving in June, 1946, and arrived in Los Angeles late in the year as a passenger in pianist Ike Carpenter's '35 Buick. He secured a spot with Charlie Barnet in September, 1947, playing tenor saxophone - his preferred instrument. When lead alto Walt Weidler (brother of George, the much admired Kenton alto star of the Forties) left the band in New York City, the ultra reticent Mr. Shank requested and received permission to take over his chair - then dashed off to West Forty-eighth Street and purchased a Selmer alto. A lot had been absorbed by the time he parted with Barnet in late 1948, leaving Bud wiser for the experience. Stan Kenton was forming his Innovations Orchestra and sought a lead altoist who could double on flute. Shank owned one, hadn't played it much, woodshedded for two weeks, auditioned for the opening - and got it! His stay with Kenton began in January, 1950, lasting until the end of 1951, and might have been longer had he not been ordered - unbelievably - to report for induction into the service. Rejected by the Marine Corps, the Army put the arm on him. The episode played out in six weeks ("they took a dim view of a recruit firing a rifle from his left shoulder!"). Declining to rejoin Kenton, he actually worked in a rhythm and blues band before signing in at The Lighthouse in August, 1953, which was most meaningful in his musical life. He checked out New Year's Eve, 1955. Just ten days later his newly-formed quartet (with fellow departee Claude Williamson) began a regular gig on Monday nights at The Haig. They hung together until early 1959, and it wasn't too long thereafter that "the whole jazz business went in the toilet," as Bud so succinctly put it. Survival was in the studios - first television, then film. In the mid Seventies he could no longer stomach it ("I was a studio sausage") and was hungry to play jazz again. The public was ready, too. He co-founded the L.A. Four which broke up in 1983 ("we went as far as we could go with that concept"). By this time he had purchased a home in Port Townsend, a one-time artists' colony north of Seattle, and relocated there permanently in 1985. The Lighthouse All-Stars were re-formed in December, 1990, but a little more than two years later the light flickered out. Monty Budwig died, then Bob Cooper, and by the time Shorty Rogers passed on the thrill was gone. For Shank, however, it was business as usual. Come the millennium he will have played jazz in seven decades. The Bud Shank of yesterday and today is a paradox. His appearance is totally dissimilar (compare the front and inside covers of this booklet), his personality is outgoing - to put it mildly-and his style/sound, in another time described as "floating" and "transparent," is now aggressive with bite. A far cry, indeed, from the twenty-four year old that Stan Kenton once exhorted to "stand up and shout!" -DICK BANK Special thanks to those who contributed so much to this project: Franca Mulligan, Gene Lees, Jim Mooney Joe Sidore, Mike, Bob and Joe, Stan Levey David Abell, Gary Thye, Lloyd Duncan, Gary Gornaley Marc, Steffan and 7bdd Fantini at Sage & Sound Studio, our producer Dick Bank, my wife Linda Alexander Shank . . . and, of course, Jeru.  January, 1999 Three times winner of the ASCAP-Deems Taylor Award, Gene Lees is the author of thirteen books on jazz and popular music. Since 1981, he has published, edited and written for the respected Jazzletter (P.O. Box 240, Ojai, CA 93024-0240). Equally known as a lyricist, his collaborators have included Bill Evans, Antonio Carlos Jobim, Roger Kellaway and Charles Aznavour. His work has been recorded by Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Sarah Vaughan, Ella Fitzgerald, Joe Williams and many others. THE LEGACY OF GERRY MULLIGAN
Even well-informed jazz enthusiasts may be unaware that Gerry Mulligan's career in music began as a composer-arranger for the big bands of Gene Krupa, Elliot Lawrence and Claude Thornhill. The same Gerald Joseph Mulligan who went on to win the annual Down Beat readers' poll forty-two times - unprecedented in any category - as the premier baritone saxophonist in jazz. He did play in those bands on occasion and there is a delightful photograph of him at age nineteen on The Arranger (Columbia) filling the second alto chair for Krupa. But in the main he was employed for his skills with the pen rather than the horn.
During his tenure with the drummer he wrote "Disc Jockey Jump," one of the band's biggest hits. There is a similarity in its first sixteen bars to Jimmy Giuffre's "Four Brothers," but it was recorded in January, 1947 - eleven months before the Woody Herman classic. He met Gil Evans as a result of his involvement with the unique Claude Thornhill Orchestra and became one of the most important figures in what came to be known as the Miles Davis-led Birth of the Cool band. Lee Konitz told me in a Jazz Journal interview that in his mind it was Gerry's because he had written most of the arrangements and the writing was more important than the soloing. Davis was the titular leader because he already had a "name" and hopefully would be able to get bookings. It has recently come to light that the baritonist arranged not five but seven of the twelve titles recorded by the ensemble.
Artistic achievement itself rarely pays the rent. Employment in New York had become difficult to find, so Mulligan sold his instruments in late 1951 and in the company of Gail Madden hitchhiked to Los Angeles. Her former relationship with Bob Graettinger gave Gerry entree to Stan Kenton and he succeeded in selling him arrangements of "Young Blood," "Swing House" and "Limelight" that proved to be extremely popular with musicians and the public. His writing pointed the band towards a far more subtle approach and this was further developed by Bill Holman and Lennie Niehaus. Both have acknowledged his influence in thinning out the ensemble lines that gave the band more freedom to swing. Miles Davis, speaking about Kenton, said "when a guy like Gerry is around a band, the other arrangers begin writing a little better. In jazz there has to be space - Gerry, Gil Evans and Duke knew this; but some guys try to fill it all up." Much later, when Mulligan was editing charts submitted by other writers for his Concert Jazz Band, Bob Brookmeyer would joke to the musicians, "We're having a rehearsal tomorrow - bring your erasers!"
Early in 1952, Mulligan landed a regular Monday night booking at The Haig, a tiny club situated opposite the famous Ambassador Hotel on Wilshire Boulevard. It would be his musical home until the summer of 1953. The Haig began its life as a pre-1920 four room bungalow and was relocated to 638 South Kenmore Avenue - not on the boulevard but one hundred feet north - where it became a restaurant in 1932. According to Bill Claxton, the capacity was eighty-five persons, including standees at the bar. By the end of the Fifties it had been demolished, eventually making way for a parking structure. Mulligan was appearing at the club when Richard Nixon, resident at the Ambassador, wrote his celebrated Checkers speech delivered to a national television audience of fifty-eight million - 23 September 1952 - that saved his place on the Republican ticket as Dwight D. Eisenhower's running mate. In 1968, the hotel acheived a different notoriety when Bobby Kennedy, the younger brother of John F. Kennedy, was himself the victim of an assassin's bullet. At the Ambassador there was the unusual - Albert Einstein once rang reception to complain about room service ...and the bizarre - the Fitzgeralds (F. Scott and Zelda) intentionally set fire to their room and slipped out in the confusion without paying the bill! The Cocoanut Grove was its nightclub, the playroom for the elite of Hollywood society. Elizabeth Taylor, Howard Hughes, James Stewart, Bette Davis, Marilyn Monroe, et al. came to be seen, dine and dance to the music of Freddy Martin.
Across the street at The Haig, owner John Bennett catered to an altogether hipper clientele. With its policy of no cover charge and a two drink minimum, they could enjoy Gerry Mulligan during his Monday night jam sessions quite inexpensively. He was usually accompanied by Bob Whitlock and Chico Hamilton together with guests such as Art Pepper, Dave Pell, Howard Roberts, Jimmy Rowles and Paul Smith. In a recent correspondence, Bob sent me a photograph of one of the pick-up groups he played in with Mulligan at this time featuring Art Pepper; Alvin Stoller and pianist Gil Barrios. Whitlock introduced Chet Baker to the baritonist, having known him since 1948 when the two played with Ray Vasquez's Latin band in downtown Los Angeles. They formed a lifelong friendship. He recommended Chet during a Mulligan rehearsal at the Cottage Italia, a bar/restaurant in North Hollywood, when it became apparent that the original trumpeter wasn't going to work out. With this final piece in the puzzle, Gerry decided to suspend use of the piano because in Chet Baker he had found someone totally sympathetic to his aims. They were quite different personalities but musically became one of the great partnerships in jazz; the Mulligan pianoless concept in one form or another endured for fourteen years. "Walkin' Shoes" was one of the earliest titles recorded by Mulligan, Baker, Whitlock and Chico Hamilton for Dick Bock. The reference was to Gerry's mode of travel from the east to the west coast. Mulligan's early quartet recordings were outstanding successes, making it possible for Bock, who was in charge of publicity at The Haig, to launch his Pacific Jazz label.
Gerry achieved a unique and pristine sound with the pianoless quartet, dominated by his exceptional ability to accompany on the baritone. His skill as one of the preeminent writers in jazz was matched by the way he could instantly compose arrangements on the bandstand, finding perfect counter lines to whatever his playing partners conceived. This quality, above all others, made his groups so distinctive. Though he became a virtuoso soloist, Mulligan was first and foremost an ensemble player - and the quartet was most definitely an ensemble rather than two soloists sharing the same stage with a rhythm section. Bob Whitlock confirmed to me that "Gerry's abilities as an accompanist were phenomenal. He had that vast pool of ideas to draw upon from all those years as an arranger and he could tap into them on the spot. He always had his ears open and expected the same from his cohorts." Trombonist Dave Glenn played in Mulligan's big band on tour with Mel Torme. In a 1983 interview with Steve Voce, he spoke about Mulligan, the accompanist. "Even after all these years, Gerry continues to amaze me. He's the greatest cat I've ever heard in playing counter lines to a melody. When we were working with Mel, they'd play things with the quartet with Mel taking over Chet's role. The counter lines were different every night - and they were brilliant!"
Many groups in the Fifties emphasized the importance of the soloist, often at the expense of group interaction. By the end of the decade leaders like Miles Davis actually left the stand when colleagues were featured. With his love of ensemble playing, Mulligan is hardly ever quiet on his recordings as his baritone gently supports and encourages his associates. The Mulligan/Baker quartet proved immensely popular in its eleven months at The Haig, leading to a profile in Time (February, 1953) that noted it as "the hot music topic in Los Angeles... where they are drawing the biggest crowds in the club's history." Gerry and Bud Shank had their initial studio meeting the previous month when the altoist was featured on "Flash" with Mulligan's tentette, his first recorded improvised solo.
His expertise as a composer of improvised arrangements was particularly evident in 1955 when he formed the group that many recall with fondness as arguably his best - the sextet. On recordings like "Elevation," written for the Elliot Lawrence Orchestra, he assumes the role of a Pied Piper leading Brookmeyer, Zoot Sims and Don Ferrara through a series of extemporized rifs, hinting at a phrase here and a comment there which in turn is picked up by the other horns and developed into what could almost be a written arrangement. He made a series of fine albums toward the end of the decade with a diverse range of star soloists, including Paul Desmond, Johnny Hodges, Stan Getz, Ben Webster and Thelonious Monk. His abilities as a supreme baritone soloist had at last been recognized. "When Gerry first arrived in Los Angeles in 1952," observed Bob Brookmeyer, "he was still considered to be primarily a writer." As late as 1957, Mulligan told Nat Hentog it had been only in the previous two years that he had become fully able to control the baritone with the process that transfers creativity to the fingers.
About this time Leonard Feather commissioned a thought-provoking poll inviting leading men and women in jazz to nominate their personal favorites. It revealed that Mulligan had found total acceptance from a wide spectrum of players. Nat Cole, Miles Davis, Buddy De Franco, Erroll Garner, Stan Getz, Terry Gibbs, Urbie Green, Bobby Hackett, Carmen McRae, Oscar Pettiford and Lester Young were some of the instrumentalists who favored him. Interestingly, the Mulligan quartet came fifth in the small group section, one vote behind Miles Davis. Phil Woods has rightly pointed out that "no one played the baritone like Gerry because it was too difficult." As with his writing, there was an elegant lyricism about his approach that belied the apparent clumsiness of his chosen means of expression. This was partly because during his solos he seldom ventured into the bottom fifth of the instrument, preferring to construct his melodic lines in the middle and upper register. Lester Young, one of his inspirations, might have done the same had he played the baritone.
Duke Ellington normally composed with his own sidemen in mind but made an exception in Mulligan's case when he wrote "Prima Bara Dubla," performed at the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival with Harry Carney, the other baritone master. Over the years, Gerry often played with the Ellington band in clubs, usually sitting in the section next to Johnny Hodges and improvising a sixth saxophone part. When Carney was hospitalized just prior to a concert in early 1974, it was he who filled in for the Ellington stalwart. The end of the Fifties saw him appearing in a number of Hollywood films, beginning with I Want to Live where he played in a jazz group with Bud Shank, among others. This was followed by The Rat Race and The Subterraneans - if the latter isn't one of the worst films ever made, it will suffice until the real thing comes along! Andre Previn's music was excellent and Mulligan played in an all-star lineup featuring Art Farmer, Art Pepper, Bill Perkins and Russ Freeman. He also had a non-playing acting role in Bells Are Ringing - a comedy scene with the wonderful Judy Holliday (who won an Oscar for Born Yesterday in 1950) in which he handled his part quite capably. The decade ended with a long, two-part profile in The New Yorker by Nat Hentoff, confirming that his fame had spread far beyond the narrow confines of jazz. Indeed, as Jerome Klinkowitz points out in his fine book, Listen: Gerry Mulligan - An Aural Narrative in Jazz, the writer Thomas Pynchon makes reference to Gerry in his 1960 story, "Entropy."
Gerry was now under contract to the Verve label and few eyebrows were raised when Norman Granz authorized an advertising campaign in the trade press stating, "1960 Belongs to Gerry Mulligan." Metronome virtually confirmed the statement in a readers' poll the previous year to determine the most popular jazz musicians of all-time. Mulligan finished third behind Charlie Parker and Miles Davis. Two other musical giants, Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington, rated no higher than sixth and sixteenth, respectively, illustrating how ephemeral polls can be. Nevertheless, it emphasizes the remarkable acceptance he enjoyed at that time-an approval that prevailed throughout his musical life.
The Sixties found him returning to his first love, the big band. As a young man he had been an arranger and a sometimes saxophonist in other bands; now he was the chief soloist and wrote only occasionally for his own Concert Jazz Band. This ensemble was rightly called a big-little band because with his attention to detail Mulligan ensured that the thirteen pieces would have the same clarity and transparency that were a hallmark of his small groups. Listening to the recordings, it is almost like viewing a clock with its moving parts exposed; the band's dynamics permitted the,inner voices to be clearly heard. It was not always just sweetness and light, however. On numbers like "The Red Door," "Lady Chatterley's Mother," "I'm Gonna Go Fishin' " and "Blueport," the band displays a relentless passion and drive that is totally infectious but never gets completely out-of-hand. Critic George T. Simon accurately labeled it "controlled violence." The same free-wheeling approach to ensemble playing that characterized many of his musical undertakings was still a feature, as Bill Crow told me. "What was so good about Gerry's band was having someone in each section who was a good riff maker-Gerry in the saxes, Bobby Brookmeyer in the trombones and Clark Terry in the trumpets. Gerry would start playing backgrounds behind a soloist like he did with the quartet, and by the second time around the rest of the saxes would be playing in unison or harmonizing with him. Then Brookmeyer or Terry would think of a counter line and the brass would join that. The band would stay behind the soloist for five or six choruses of improvised riffs and it would really get going-and only when it reached a certain level would Gerry give the signal to go into the next written section."
Sadly, in spite of the band's obvious musical worth and Mulligan's popularity, it was a task keeping it on the road. When bookings did not materialize, he often reverted to the quartet with Brookmeyer. Ira Gitler, writing in Dawn Beat, was deeply impressed after a performance at Birdland. "If this band cannot work when it wants to, then there is something very wrong with the state of music in the United States." His words were prophetic: just eight months later (New Year's Eve, 1964), again at Birdland, it gave its final performance. The evening signaled the end for the club, too. Included in the band that so impressed Gitler were, among others, Thad Jones, Nick Travis and Clark Terry (trumpets), Brookmeyer and Willie Dennis (trombones), Phil Woods on alto and Richie Kamuca as tenor soloist. Al Cohn, Ben Webster, Benny Powell and Jimmy Owens also sat in at various times.
In retrospect, the closure of Birdland and the break up of the Concert Jazz Band seemed to presage the end of an era-not only for jazz but Mulligan, too. The Sixties was a period when the avant-garde, in challenging former musical truths, persuaded many that the removal of melody, harmony and rhythm was the new direction. This was hardly an atmosphere in which one would find Gerry Mulligan; it was to be another seven years before his next major undertaking-the 1971 recording, The Age of Steam. Harry Edison was on trumpet and Brookmeyer was along with some of the younger generation, including Roger Kellaway, Tom Scott and John Guerin. One of the highlights was Bud Shank's sensitive work on the slowly moving harmonies of "Grand Tour" an intensely sad and poignant Mulligan original. The album also introduced the exciting "K-4 Pacific," which Gerry often used in later years to close his concerts. While The Age of Steam was being recorded, Shank and Mulligan appeared on a Beaver and Krause album, Gandharua, playing Gerry's "By Your Grace," which ultimately became the much longer and grander "Entente for Baritone Sax and Orchestra." This piece was a totally successful marriage of the jazz saxophone soloist with the symphony orchestra. Gerry dedicated it to Zubin and Nancy Mehra, recording it with the Houston Symphony under Erich Kunzel in 1987. Five months later he performed "Entente" and "K-4 Pacific" in concert with Zubin Mehta. Itzhak Perlman sat in with Mulligan's quartet that evening to play a little jazz.
The last sixteen years of his life saw Gerry maintaining a punishing schedule, touring worldwide with either his re-formed big band or the quartet which now featured a conventional rhythm section with a piano. When I asked him about this, he said he wanted to play the melody more-and in a pianoless context it was difficult because of his role as an accompanist. He hM just been inducted into the Down Beat Hall of Fame when he told me "popularity polls can be strange because I started out as an arranger and I always think of myself as one; but I don't show up in that category at all and that used to bug me. Have you noticed in the Down Beat polls no one ever votes for my present group? If I don't have a pianoless quartet, it's as if I don't have a quartet at all."V
Gerry Mulligan successfully upheld the role of virtuoso baritone soloist throughout a prolific career that spanned six decades. At the same time he was one of the music's most inventive composers and arrangers. His originals rightly merit inclusion in the jazz library together with contemporaries Benny Golson, Thelonious Monk and Horace Silver. Lyrics have occasionally been added to his songs. Gene Lees who has called him one of the greatest composers in jazz, put words to "I Hear the Shadows Dancing" and Mel Torme recorded "The Real Thing" with his own lyric. The Brazilian singer Jane Duboc wrote words to a number of Mulligan originals which she sang with him on a charming 1993 Compact Disc titled Paraiso - Jazz Brazil. One of the pieces was the lovely "Theme for Jobim" with lyrics by Joyce Silveras. Mulligan himself put words to "Jeru" which he performed with Mel Torme at the 1982 Kool Jazz Festival in New York City.
He teamed up with Judy Holliday in 1961 for a recording that is remembered with affection. Titled Holliday with Mulligan, she wrote lyrics for "What's the Rush," "Loving You," "It Must Be Christmas" and "Summer's Over." They were collaborating on Happy Birthday, an Anita Loos play, with plans to convert it into a musical when she died of cancer in 1965. "Brilliant!" was Ms. Loos description of Mulligan's music for the show. Over the years a number of instrumental albums have been devoted to his music. Claude Williamson, Sal Salvador, Vic Lewis, Elliot Lawrence and Gene Krupa all recorded individual interpretations during Gerry's lifetime. Since his death, tribute albums from Bill Charlap, Ted Rosenthal (his last two pianists) and Ronnie Cuber have been forthcoming. The latter, The Three Baritone Sax Band Plays Mulligan, is a particularly interesting concept featuring Nick Brignola and Gary Smulyan along with the leader. It is the intention of the group to continue recording and tour with the aim of furthering his compositions. Another receiving significant notice is Thank You, Gerry! in which Bob Brookmeyer, Lee Konitz, Randy Brecker and his last rhythm section (Rosenthal, Dean Johnson and Ron Vincent) pay homage to his music and express their personal remembrances.V
His stature as the premier baritone soloist was secured long ago. This Compact Disc by Bud Shank will hopefully call new attention to the considerable composing genius of Gerry Mulligan that has been somewhat overlooked. Broad recognition of his music is richly deserved; a pity it did not come during his lifetime.V
Gerald Joseph Mulligan was born 6 April 1927 in New York, New York, and died 20 January 1996 in Darien, Connecticut.
GORDON JACKJanuary, 1999 Gordon Jack has closely monitored the music of Gerry Mulligan for more than forty years, and is recognized as its foremost authority. His extensive tape library was a source that Gerry himself accessed. A semi-professional baritone player for thirty years, his very informative and revealing interviews-twenty in all-have been published in Jazz Journal, including an in-depth Mulligan. He resides in London. Few jazz bands have experienced such a meteoric rise to fame as did the Gerry Mulligan Quartet. It was with some apprehension that French jazz fans awaited their appearance at the Salle Pleyel during the third Paris Salon du Jazz in June, 1954. On more than one occasion, a performance by a famous American soloist or band had left them disappointed. Some feared a concert could be lacking, what with the advanced techniques of modern studio recording. Others worried that such a small group could be lost in the vast and glacial hall. Would the quartet's balance suffer with the replacement of trumpeter Chet Baker by trombonist Bob Brookmeyer, a virtual unknown in France? Finally, how could this simple little quartet made up entirely of white musicians-including bassist Red Mitchell and drummer Frank Isola-compare with the bands of Dizzy Gillespie, Duke Ellington, Count Basic and the Louis Armstrong All-Stars which had previously appeared at the Salle Pleyel? As if by magic, those fears vanished in the first few bars of "Bernie's Tune," which opened the program on that memorable evening. A feeling of controlled emotion was immediately felt-rare for a jazz concert. A rapport was established from the outset between the public and the quartet as if the audience had suddenly abandoned its usual excitement to appreciate a musical performance of choice. Many modern musicians look as if they are hopelessly bored while they are performing. In contrast, the Mulligan Quartet showed the fulfillment it derived from its playing. It was neither stiff nor affected, but natural and even spectacular. The four musicians held the vast stage magnificently without falling back on visual aids which often relegate jazz to the level of a variety show or, even worse, a circus. Their music was noted for its simplicity, surprisingly good taste, freshness, spontaneity and a totally supportive rhythm section. There is no doubt that simplicity was the secret to the quartet's success. Subtle and full of nuances, the melodic lines drawn by Mulligan and Brookmeyer crossed over, melted into and contradicted each other yet remained easy to follow. The listener often has trouble in deciphering modern jazz arrangements, but in these performances the variations and melodies embroidered by the soloists could be followed without difficulty. The Fabulous Gerry Mulligan Quartet - Pleyel Concert - 1954 Vogue VG 655610 - a translation from the liner notes. Saint Peter's Church
Courtesy of Reverend Dale Lind
February 12, 1996
A Celebration of the Life of Gerry Mulligan
Introduction Reverend John Gensel
Host: Gary Giddins
"Lonesome Boulevard" Ted Rosenthal, Dean Johnson
Ron Vincent
"Bernie's Tune" Gary Smulyan, Warren Vache,
Ted Rosenthal, Dean Johnson,
Ron Vincent
"The Real Thing" Carol Sloane, Bill Charlap
"Etude for Franca" Bill Charlap
Speakers: George Wein
Herb Gardner
Ira Gider
Solos: George Shearing
Dave Brubeck
"Walkin' Shoes" Nick Brignola, Tom Harrell, Bill Mays,
Jay Leonhart, Richie DeRosa
"Festive Minor" Joe Temperley, Art Farmer, Bill Crow,
Dave Bailey
"Line for Lyons" Jackie & Roy, Dean Johnson,
Richie DeRosa
"Walk on the Water" Harold Danko, Dean Johnson,
Richie DeRosa
Speakers; Iris Rainer Dart
Elliot Lawrence
Solos: John Lewis
Lee Konitz
David Amram
"Blueport" Nick Brignola, Clark Terry
Frank Luther, Chico Hamilton
"My Funny Valentine" Clark Terry, Tom Fay Frank Luther,
Chico Hamilton
Speaker: Ken Poston
"I Hear the Shadows Dancing" Annette Sanders, Ted Rosenthal
"Dragonfly" Grover Washington, Jr., Dave Grusin,
Dean Johnson, Ron Vincent
Speakers: Alan & Marilyn Bergman
"O Great Spirit" Mike Renzi, Diva Gray, Darryl Tookes
(recorded version)
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