CLARK TERRY: MUSIC IN THE GARDEN (Liner Notes)

CLARK TERRY

MUSIC IN THE GARDEN

[1] NOW'S THE TIME

(Charlie Parker) Atlantic Music/BM I

[2] SATIN DOLL

(Edward Kennedy Ellington)

Tempo Music/ASCAP

[3] I GOT IT BAD AND THAT AIN'T GOOD

(Edward Kennedy Ellington/Paul Francis Webster)

Robbins Music Corp./Webster Music Corp./ASCAP

[4] IN A MELLOW TONE

(Edward K. Ellington)

Robbins Music Corp./ASCAP

[5] ONE TWO BLUES, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO (Clark Terry)

[6] JUST SQUEEZE ME

(Edward Kennedy Ellington/Lee Gaines)

Robbins Music Corp./ASCAP

[7] TAKE THE "A" TRAIN

(Billy Strayhorn)

Tempo Music, lnc./ASCAP

Clark Terry, Trumpet, Flugelhorn

Zoot Sims, Tenor Saxophone • Dave Bailey, Drums

Don Friedman, Piano • Larry Ridley, Bass

In August of 1968, trumpeter-flugelhorn player Clark Terry put together a quintet for an appearance in the Garden of New York's Museum of Modern Art in New York City.

"At the time we made this live album at the Museum, I was running from one job to another. The pace was really hectic," Clark remembers. "My schedule included recording dates here in town, the "Tonight Show'' with Johnny Carson on NBC-TV, small group and big band gigs. I generally slept over in hotels rather than going to Queens because it was too tiresome to drive through town, across one of the bridges, onto the highway and home."

The band that night was one of several Clark fronted during the late 1960s, featuring guys he liked and generally had worked with before," drummer Dave Bailey says, adding: "The personnel varied. Valve trombonist/composer Bob Brookmeyer was co-leader on a number of the bookings. Pianists Roger Kellaway and Herbie Hancock worked with us. Bill Crow played bass."

On this particular evening in the Garden, in what Bailey and bassist Larry Ridley describe as "a lovely setting," Clark's primary foil was the tenor saxophonist Zoot Sims. A most memorable artist, Zoot brought a bubbling sense of life and his own particular brand of swing to the music.

"I was very glad to team with Zoot," Clark asserts. "We did a lot of things together over the years -- had a mutual admiration thing going. I sure loved the way he played."

On the face of things-the date was essentially a "jam" by a band that had not been together before-this could

have been just another recording. However, this is not the case. What makes these performances distinctive is the fact that they have much individuality and substance to recommend them. The music was made by an assemblage that has street knowledge, experience and the capacity to project original musical thought patterns in an immediately identifiable manner.

This might not seem terribly important until you consider the jazz scene in the 1990s. Most of the great veterans are gone. Yes, there are lots of facile young players. But more times than not it is difficult to tell one from the other. They are schooled and have had more opportunities to learn in a formal environment than any of the classic players did. There are tapes, LPs and CDs to listen to. Somehow, though, there is something key missing among the young, at this juncture anyway.

Older players like Clark, Zoot, and the rhythm men: Don Friedman, Dave Bailey, and Larry Ridley had to rely more completely on themselves to fill the gaps in their development. The jazz musicians who came up through the years of Swing and Be-Bop had to put more of themselves into the music because there wasn't jazz education in the schools the way there is today, making things easy, maybe too easy, for the youngsters.

Make no mistake, I am strongly for the cause of jazz education. But I also feel the knowledge of the street, and certainly the character jazz improvisation takes on when the player has to be more self-reliant could be lost if certain aspects of jazz are not emphasized by educators. If they are lost, jazz will lack the distinct, often potent flavor that has made it such a major American, indeed international, phenomenon.

Clark, an experienced educator, counsels the young to seek to create their own identities and, above all, he advises them to be diversified; "So many of the young stereotype themselves," he points out. ''They say: I'm a high-note man. I'm a soloist. I'm a lead player, a fourth player. The idea is to be able to do everything. You can make a buck from any pocket. My advice is not to sew up any pocket. Leave them all open! You never know which one the jingles are going to fall into."

How do we account for the current situation in jazz? Clark feels while older jazzmen were more concerned with being able to do many things and giving vent to feelings in their own way, many of today's youngsters want to get on the bandwagon. ''They don't have the perseverance to stick with it until they master the craft," he said. ''They get on the bandwagon because it's fashionable to belong.

"It is the duty of experienced players to stress the importance of diversity and individuality to the young people coming up. If we can get them to understand how important these things are, that will make a major difference in the future of the music."

From the first time I heard Clark Terry - with the Count Basie band in the late 1940s -- I knew he had special qualities. With the exception of one teacher in St. Louis by the name of Leonard Small, with whom he studied briefly, Terry is self-taught. Quite dedicated, he has always been a musician who stays close to his horns. Practice, moving through all kinds of instruction books and playing in various circumstances have been a part of his life since the early days in St. Louis.

In that city adjacent to the Mississippi River, he began to listen to "everybody," trumpet men like Levi ,

Madison, Joe Thomas, George Hudson, Crack Stanley Mouse Randolph, Dewey Jackson, Sleepy Tomlin, the Black Brothers. "Then, of course, there was Louis Armstrong," Clark declares. "He was the pioneer. He chopped down those trees and made paths that became super highways."

Roy Eldridge and later Dizzy Gillespie caught his ear and gave direction to his work. So did Lester Young; "Pres was one of my favorites and his concepts left a lasting mark." It is important to point out that Clark has derived something from every one of his musical experiences: the time with the George Hudson, Eddie Vinson, Charlie Ventura and Charlie Barnet bands. Later with Quincy Jones, his own big bands and small groups and with musicians like Bob Brookmeyer, Thelonious Monk, Oscar Peterson and others, he also learned a great deal.

Clark remembers his stay with the Count Basie bands (large and small, 1948-51) warmly, vividly: "From Basie I learned the importance of the use of space and time. Nobody taught greater lessons than that man." He also had Duke Ellington as his professor: "I was with Ellington for almost nine years (1951-1959). So many things rubbed off on me and affected my work as an instrumental player. I wasn't even aware of what I was copping from Ellington until a situation arose and it occurred to me Ellington would have done it this way."

"Being with Ellington also made me more capable of dealing with other musicians and establishing rapport between the people on the bandstand and the audience. He helped me develop psychological expertise, the ability to keep a band happy and make individual musicians perform and interpret the music the way I want them to."

The instrumental finesse, the fluidity, the character and infectious swing of Clark's playing are immediately accessible in this program of Ellingtonia and the blues. During this open-air concert, it takes only a few bars for anyone to realize that it's Clark sewing his ideas together, making his improvisations pay their way with nary a note wasted. He cleverly combines musicality and entertainment. Pay heed to the manner in which he sings and scats. And listen to the music he makes while alternating the flugelhorn and tightly muted trumpet through three choruses with Larry Ridley on in In A Mellow Tone. His performances are easy without ever being merely nimble. He speaks through his horns, tells stories flavored by a dancing pulse, and steers clear of exhibitionism. Clark is a musician in the best sense of the word.

Zoot Sims, via recordings like this, remains alive to those who love his work. A quiet, humorous, feeling man, he had the ability to creatively recast material and make it pulsate in an unforgettable manner. Zoot was the sort of player who could grab hold of your emotions and uplift you without ever being obvious. Thoroughly unpretentious, he just loved to play and to swing. Zoot loved Pres and other tenor men. But like Clark, he had his own voice, his own ways and means, and gave the attentive listener a great deal. I have so many memories and mementos of Zoot -- those great nights with the Woody Herman Second Herd, the years

in tandem with Al Cohn at places like the Half Note in downtown New York City, and a variety of records and tapes. Zoot's performances make you hunger for more Try playing his tapes in your car; the miles fly by ever so pleasantly.

The rhythm team on that August evening of 1968 also recommends itself. Don Friedman, an able . accompanist and soloist, inspired by Bill Evans and Bud Powell, is easily recognizable. He can be discreet or open, quiet or colorful. He has played with Clark Terry quite frequently over the years. Bassist Larry Ridley has had a variety of musical experiences. A veteran of a number of groups, including those headed by Max Roach and Thelonious Monk and Horace Silver, among others, he is a sensitive and stable and swinging bassist who also is a distinguished jazz educator. Drummer Dave Bailey, best known for his excellent work and lengthy association with Gerry Mulligan, is Executive Director of Jazzmobile in New York City. His work as a drummer -- his employment covered a wide range, from Johnny Hodges to Charles Mingus -- does him credit.

Now I suggest that you put this recording on your machine, turn on the power and allow these players the latitude to do what they will.

-Burt Korall