[1] How High The Moon
MORE LAST RECORDINGS
ARTIE SHAW
THE FINAL SESSIONS
(William M. Lewis Jr., Nancy Hamilton)
Chappell & Co., lnc./ASCAP
[2] Stop and Go Mambo
(Artie Shaw)
Artixo Music, ASCAP
[3] I've Got A Crush On You (George Gershwin, Ira Gershwin)
Warner Bros. Music, ASCAP
[4] Begin The Beguine (Cole Porter)
Harms, Inc., ASCAP
[5] The Chaser (Artie Shaw)
Artixo Music, ASCAP
[6] Stardust
(Heagy Carmichael, Mitchell Parish)
Mills Music, Everbright Music, Heagy Publishing Co., ASCAP
[7] Summit Ridge Drive
(Artie Shaw)
Artixo Music, ASCAP
[8] Autumn Leaves (Take 6)
(Joseph Kozma, John H. Mercer, Jacques Andre M. Prevert)
Enoch Et Cie, Morley Music Co., ASCAP
[9] Scuttlebutt
(Artie Shaw)
Artixo Music, ASCAP
[10] Back Bay Shuffle
(Teddy McRae, Artie Shaw)
Music Sales Corp., RYTVOC, Inc., ASCAP
[11] Autumn Leaves (Take 5)*
(Joseph Kozma, John H. Mercer, Jacques Andre M. Prevert)
Enoch Et Cie, Morley Music Co., ASCAP
[12] Dancing In The Dark
(Arthur Schwartz, Howard Dietz)
Harms Inc., ASCAP
[13] Cross Your Heart
(Lewis E. Gensler, B.G. De Sylva)
Anne Rachel Music Corp., Harms Inc., ASCAP
*Previously Unreleased
ARTIE SHAW clarinet
HANK JONES piano
TOMMY POTTER bass
TAL FARLOW guitar (except on track 16)
[14] Don't Take Your Love From Me
(Henry Nemo)
lndano Music Co., ASCAP
[15] Frenesi
(Alberto Dominquez, Ray Charles, S.K. Russell)
APRS,ASCAP
[16] September Song (Hollywood Session) (Maxwell Anderson, Kurt Weill)
Chappell & Co., Inc.,
Hampshire House Pub Corp., ASCAP
[17] Grabtown Grapple
(Artie Shaw)
Life Music Inc., Music Sales Corp., ASCAP
JOE ROLAND vibraphone (except on track 16)
IRV KLUGER drums
JOE PUMA guitar (on track 16)
NOTES by DAN MORGENSTERN
Conversing with Artie Shaw -- as Loren Schoenberg and I did in preparation for annotating these further treasures from his last recordings -- is an exhilarating experience. This is because this master of the clarinet excels at making connections. Just as he always knew how to get from one note to the next in such a way that the result was a cohesive statement -- a story, as jazz musicians used to put it -- he knows how to link one idea to another, to make allusions, to place things in context, within a frame of reference that ranges wide and far.
Our talk took place several weeks before the death of Helen Hayes, so this anecdote wasn't triggered by her name being in the news. It sheds light on Shaw's decision, shortly after he disbanded this group, to quit music: "She was walking out of the theater, she told me, during the long run of 'Victoria Regina.' The stage doorman, Pop, asked, 'Where are you going, Miss Hayes?' She was all dressed. 'I'm going home,' she answered. 'But you just finished the first act,' Pop told her. That was when she closed the show -- and that's what happened to me. I'd find myself repeating myself, and getting bored. And you're not supposed to play when you're bored. "I liked playing; I enjoyed the hell out of it when a thing was new. But God help you if you had a hit!
I have a temperamental inability to continue doing the same thing for very long, and there's a limit to what you can do with a sequence of chords, like "Rhythm" changes. There comes a time when you say, 'Wait a minute, I've done about all I'm going to do with this. And I don't think you can do much more with a clarinet than these records do. By that time, I wasn't quitting music -- I was starting writing. It's a different thing. Every end is a beginning."
One has to agree with Shaw about the clarinet. Not to say that there haven't been good players since 1954, but have they extended the musical potential of the instrument? If I were to walk into a club and hear this music I wouldn't think I'd been caught in a time warp: this stuff, and Shaw's playing in particular, sounds as fresh as today. (Which may be why critic Gary Giddins picked "The Last Recordings" [Rare and Unreleased, MM #65071] as one of his ten best of 1992; the only "old" music on his list.)
These selections are every bit as good as the ones on the double CD that has garnered so much critical acclaim. The level of performance this group was able to sustain is remarkable, but as Shaw points out, by the time he took the band into the studio it had been playing at the Embers (the "in" jazz spot in Manhattan then) for some five weeks, and ''we knew each other pretty well
Though the arrangements are far from pat, with many unexpected touches, the group handles all the music with assurance. Yet nothing was written down, and there were moments when ''we didn't know where we were going. There is give and take, extended exchanges of a kind there was no room for on 78s. But when the overall mood is right, it happens. What we had here was a set of sensibilities (mine was dominant, admittedly -- I was the leader) that fit together. I was looking for a chamber music sound, a kind of transparency; I think I used this metaphor in 'The Trouble With Cinderella,' that you should be able to see the bottom of the music, like when you look down into a mountain lake and see the sandy ridges below. A pellucid kind of sound."
The Chaser here, and one of two different takes of Autumn Leaves. These variant performances point up the element of improvisation in the group's work -- and in Shaw's own playing.
That aspect is also illuminated by what Shaw has done here with two of his greatest hits, Begin The Beguine and Stardust. Unlike other band leaders, he had the guts to give us something new. "I never could accept becoming a clone of myself, to play the same arrangement over and over again and retain my sanity. Even when it was necessary to freeze my own solo I'd allow a little room for growth."
The work of the sidemen is consistently good. One would perhaps take this for granted from stars-to-be like Hank Jones and Tai Farlow, or from Tommy Potter, who'd earned his spurs with Charlie Parker (Shaw gives him more to do, and I'd say that these are Tommy's best records). But Joe Roland, Irv Kluger and Joe Puma aren't household names, yet acquit themselves nobly. There is a conception at work here, a grasp of nuances, a feeling for the proper mood, tempo, and ambience for each piece. That is why Shaw sometimes found it hard to choose between takes; we have a new and different version of
This Beguine retains the framework of the original, but within that (of course translated to the small group}, the playing and the chord changes are quite different. In stating the melody, Shaw does not copy himself, and while Farlow begins his solo with a quote from Tony Pastor's, he soon goes off on his own. There are attractive little boppish figures in the ensemble variations, but the ending is intact. What's also new is Shaw's sound. Glorious as it had been in 1938, it is even lovelier here.
This whole feeling is carried even further by Stardust, where Shaw dares to not copy his most famous solo; even those who'd fault him for that might be won over by the sheer seductiveness of his sound and the beauty of his phrasing. Here he also plays the role of Billy Butterfield in the original arrangement: introducing the melody.
When he comes to his original solo spot, he alludes to the solo, then extemporizes on it, delivering, in the process, some astonishing arpeggios. The closing cadenza is also new. It is instructive to take this version, the 1949 big band one (''The Last Recordings, Vol. II: The Big Band" on MusicMasters #65026), and the 1940 original (also on CD) and hear them in succession.
Shaw also revisits both his earlier small groups. The first Gramercy Five's Summit Ridge Drive is the blues, a seminal jazz form Shaw always felt at home with. There's a lot of humor here, notably in Shaw's compendium of quotes and the deployment of riffs, some from the original version, others new, behind, under and between solos by all hands. Farlow's at his most boppish here, and Jones quotes from Lester Young. Scuttlebutt stems from the second Gramercy Five (the one with Roy Eldridge) and is based on a "Rhythm" pattern -- with an altered bridge. The tempo is particularly fine here, and good use is made of a passage that serves both as introduction and repeated interlude to set up the solos. Shaw enters on a break and hits a particularly lighthearted, swinging grove, and Farlow's solo is perhaps his best of this crop. When Shaw returns for a dialogue with Kluger, he brings up some more humorous quotes, and the ensemble offers riffs galore. This is happy music. There's fun, too, in Stop and Go Mambo, where
Kluger gets a timbalelike sound and Jones gives us his impression of Naro Morales, ending with a "Hungarian Rhapsody" flourish. Shaw crams a surprising amount of melody into the Latin changes, and the ensemble makes good use of dynamics throughout.
How High The Moon, then known as the anthem of bebop, starts off at its original ballad tempo, then shifts into moderate up-tempo, Shaw in fine fettle leading off the solo order and returning to trade fours, a cappel/a, with the drummer. There's a riff based on "Louise," a change back to the opening tempo, and as a bonus, a terrific Shaw cadenza.
The Chaser, an original based on "Rhythm" changes, also finds the group at home with bop's vocabulary --something we'd expect from Jones and Farlow, of course, but which the leader clearly demonstrates in his solo, preceded by an exchange with Roland's vibes that is new to this take. There are more fours (with Kluger) later on, and Potter has a solo spot, propelled by ensemble riffs.
Autumn Leaves is near perfect, opening with Shaw's creative embellishment of the melody. Jones is in great form and Shaw comes in wailing after the vibes solo, with execution that is spectacular but doesn't detract from the feeling. He holds a low note at the end, making the listener wonder if that might not be just as difficult as sustaining the high ones. I've Got A Crush On You seems
I've Got A Crush On You seems tailor-made for Shaw, though this is a first, I think. Again, there's that seductive sound, and the flair for enhancing a pretty melody as he moves from embellishment to improvisation. Solos by Farlow, Jones and Roland (the pianist in a Shearing block-chord mood) set the stage for Shaw's return, where he throws in a near-subliminal allusion to "Rhapsody In Blue." Few have mastered the art of the jazz ballad like Shaw. As he said in the course of our conversation: "It's the sound you put on a given note in a given context-the inflection, as in talking."
Artie Shaw always told a story when he played, and he had that sound -- immediately, unmistakably identifiable as his and his alone. It's a treat to hear him tell us some timeless stories we hadn't heard before.
Dan Morgenstern is director of the Institute of Jazz Studies at Rutgers University. He is one of the most distinguished and respected of jazz writers, and the winner of several Grammy awards for Best Liner Notes.
NOTES
By LOREN SCHOENBERG
Artie Shaw is one of a kind. Imagine a man who recorded with Jelly Roll Morton and began playing the saxophone during the Harding administration comparing the relative merits of Ornette Coleman and Miles Davis. Even more astonishing is the level of insight he brings to such a discussion. In a recent interview with this author and Dan Morgenstern, Shaw made a literary analogy: ''99% of playing is the sound you put on a given note in a given context. Volume, lack of same, even the duration of the note in the context of the underlying pulse. The agogics, to use a fancy word. As someone once said of Hemingway, 'God, this guy writes on water!' He says a lot of things he's not saying. When he strikes a gong, you hear overtones-if you've got ears." If there has been one constant throughout Shaw's life, it has been his unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Equally significant has been his ability to synthesize what he has learned to fill in as many pieces of a subject's jig-saw puzzle as possible. ''Years ago, I learned French so I could read Mallarme and Baudelaire. You can read the translation, which is a rough equivalent, but you don't get the sound of the writing."
The fusion of Shaw's instrumental mastery with his great depth of feeling took its inspiration not just from other horn players. "I was influenced by everybody. I think I learned as much from Earl Hines as I did from Louis, and I learned as much from Art Tatum as I did from any clarinet player. I remember learning from Frank Trumbauer a lot. One of the things I liked so much about Lester Young was that we both felt that Trumbauer had been an enormous influence, and overlooked. His sound, and the cool approach that he had -have you heard his solo on 'Singin' The Blues'? It's a song! Lester understood that the song is basic. Not just the song, but a combination of notes that say something. Trumbauer had that quality. The sound that Bix and Tram got out of their horns was very important. That's the first thing you hear. That's the whole key to anything good -- getting a good sound and controlling it."
Like Tatum, Artie Shaw was a master of allusion. He could make you hear a certain phrase, which under close examination, he had only hinted at. And the stream of consciousness evident in all of his solos has much in common with Hines' long, long phrases and inveterate risk-taking.
Shaw’s intuitive search for unity of structure was a long one. Before arriving at his ideal of "transparency" with his 1938 band, he tried many different approaches. They varied from a small jazz band uneasily merged with a string quartet to a much more conventional approach. And as his sense of what he wanted from an ensemble
became clearer, his playing slowly shed its early self-consciousness, and began to bloom. ''The idea of the clarinet as an end in itself is very strange to me. An instrument is an instrument. The trouble with most players is that they play the instrument, and that's not enough. You have to use it to get at this thing called music."
Among the remarkable musicians on these recordings, Hank Jones' empathy with Shaw’s conception is particularly striking. They are the musical planets around which the other players orbit. For example, listen to Shaw's opening chorus on Don't Take Your Love From Me. The clarinet and piano alternately lead and follow each other, creating an overall unity which would be the envy of any great composer. 'We listen to a piece of music at a concert hall," Shaw says. 'We hear it once. It's not enough, especially with a new piece. It's like reading Joyce's 'Finnegan's Wake' once. That's either going to be made a study, or forget it." Similarly, these performances will grow on the listener with repeated hearings.
Back Bay Shuffle -- Shorn of the saxophones and brass, the melody of this 1938 Shaw/MacCrae big band opus has a decidedly modern feel. The best parts of the original arrangement have been wittily adapted (those waiting for that great moment when the reeds played a descending A diminished chord over the brass' A-flat major will be surprised to learn that it has now evolved into a chromatic waterfall). The extended trading between the clarinet and drums reveals Shaw's
penchant for musical quotes -- if "It's A Long Way To Tipperary" comes as a surprise, listen to his 1937 big band recording of it!
Autumn Leaves -- The group's sensitive dynamics are showcased during the second eight of Shaw's opening statement. The beautiful crescendo they make is both striking and rare. Also arresting is the concentration of ideas during the relatively brief solos. Jones' accompaniment behind the clarinetist's ravishing melody statements enhances the mood.
Dancing
In The Dark -- The 1940 big band introduction and coda are reprised in this spacious reading of Dietz and Schwartz's classic. The rhythm section creates a beautiful cushion for the leader's probing ruminations. Drummer Irv Kluger creates a different setting for each event with great subtlety. His work on all these tracks reveal what Artie described as his "great psychic energy."
Cross Your Heart -- Johnny Guarnieri's parallel harpsichord introductory riff from the original 1940 Gramercy 5 recording is reprised by Jones' piano. The proliferation of backgrounds behind the solos provides a marked contrast with Jones' piano solo and the leader's second-with just bass and drums. The freedom of the clarinet/drum exchanges presage the historic Sonny Rollins Trio Village Vanguard recordings.
Don't Take Your Love From Me -- Jones' brief but telling modulatory introduction sets the stage for one of the highlights of Shaw's entire recorded oeuvre. Shaw's allusive skills are clearly demonstrated here as he intimates the melody without ever explicitly stating it. By briefly shifting keys in his introduction, Jones' creates the sensation of having gone from one place to another. Similarly, the depth and intensity of Shaw's opening chorus seems to be an elaboration on something already in motion. Once again, the interchanges between Shaw and Jones (particularly in the second eight bars) are positively sublime -- as is Jones' chorded piano solo. In past interviews, Shaw recalled Count Basie's comments regarding the beautiful and almost mystical place to which Lester Young transported the band during his solos. Shaw performs a similar feat of musical levitation here.
Frenesi -- This is Shaw's preferred version of one of his biggest hits. "People ask me why don't I like the original," Shaw said recently. "Because it was an experiment. I got William Grant Still, and we sat down and did the arrangement together. I did the 'jazz' parts, and he did the 'symphonic' parts. I wanted to see if a jazz band could function around a section of woodwinds and strings." It obviously worked well, and led to Shaw's 1941 collaborations with Paul Jordan. Suite No. 8 and Evensong, in particular, were masterpieces that were years ahead of their
time, as were so many of Shaw's concepts. This long performance is constantly re-capitulating and expanding.
September Song -- is played by the group without Joe Roland, and with Joe Puma replacing Tai Farlow. Shaw's harmonic wizardry is well in evidence throughout. New and unusual (for jazz) scales and chords are draped over this Kurt Weill/Maxwell Anderson ballad. As is usually the case with great music, the perceived experience seems longer than the elapsed chronological time.
Grabtown Grapple -- highlights Shaw's mastery of the Gillespie and Parker idiom. Some of those elements were already present in Shaw's style by the late 30's, others were absorbed from the likes of Dodo Marmarosa, who was in the 1945 Shaw band. Those inclined to name every quote on a given track will have a field day with this one! Much more significant, however, is the unity of concept Artie Shaw brought to all of his ensembles, from the earliest to this, his last.
Loren Schoenberg is a conductor and tenor saxophonist who has led his own big band, and The American Jazz Orchestra. He has also conducted in both Europe and the Far East.
He has written extensively on jazz and has hosted his own jazz history radio shows in the New York area since 1973. He also teaches aesthetics at The New School.
