Brubeck at 90: In His Own Sweet Way

In 1936, Benny Goodman made history, hiring Lionel Hampton and Teddy Wilson for the first racially integrated combo to perform openly together in America. Twenty-some years later, it still raised some eyebrows when Dave Brubeck brought the African American bassist Eugene Wright into what would come to be considered his “classic” quartet. It cost Brubeck a number of gigs, but he stuck with his principles. That integrity partly explains why Brubeck remains one of the most popular and respected artists in all of jazz--and then there is his music. Brubeck, the man and the artist, take center stage in Dave Brubeck: In His Own Sweet Way, Bruce Ricker’s documentary profile executive-produced by Clint Eastwood, which premieres on TCM this coming Monday.

If you only own one jazz album, (shame on you, but) there is a fifty-fifty chance it is Time Out by the Dave Brubeck Quartet. Every track is a classic, but unquestionably the best known is “Take Five.” Though actually penned by alto-saxophonist Paul Desmond, Brubeck has played at nearly every gig since the record released. Yet, Brubeck assures viewers he always looks forward to playing it to see “how far out are we going to go.”

In fact, Time Out is a perfect example of how tricky it is to classify Brubeck’s music. With each composition written in an unconventional time signature, it clearly reflected an experimental impulse, yet it sounds safely grounded in swing when compared to the avant-garde “free jazz” that would follow. A Californian of hearty rancher stock, Brubeck is also often lumped in with the so-called “West Coast” or “Cool” school of jazz. However, Brubeck’s driving rhythms and muscular attack stand in marked contrast to Cool Jazz’s milder tone.

In assembling Sweet, Ricker is blessed to have such a wealth of archival material, from high profile interviews with the likes of Walter Cronkite, to an early appearance in a Darius Milhaud documentary while Brubeck studied under the revered French composer at Mills College. Appropriately, most of Ricker’s original footage was shot around a piano, with either Brubeck or Eastwood (the Chair of the Brubeck Institute’s Honorary Board) holding court with other admiring musicians (like David Benoit and Yo-Yo Ma) to discuss the pianist-composer’s legacy. Yet, nothing beats watching and listening as Brubeck and Kansas City legend Jay McShann jam on a blues.

Brubeck continues to lead an eventful life, but Ricker is able to shoehorn in most of the major highlights, including his WWII service and the goodwill tours he later undertook for the U.S. State Department, which in turn inspired The Real Ambassadors, a jazz book-musical Brubeck and wife Iola wrote for Louis Armstrong. Though viewers do not hear as much of it, Sweet also discusses Brubeck’s sacred music (including a commission for Pope John Paul II), as well as his eventual conversion to Catholicism.

Perhaps though, the strongest aspect of the man that Ricker captures is Brubeck, the husband and father. Indeed, he and Iola Brubeck seem to have an enduringly beautiful romance, while he also clearly maintains close relationships with his grown children, four of whom followed in his footsteps as accomplished musicians in their own right.

Sweet might be conventional in its approach, but considering they have Brubeck’s engaging personality and his extraordinary body of music to work with, why get complicated? The only thing really missing is Brubeck’s performance of “A Raggy Waltz” in Basil Dearden’s All Night Long, an eccentric but appealing retelling of Shakespeare’s Othello in the world of British hipsters and jazz musicians, but TCM rectifies this oversight by airing it prior to Sweet’s debut at 3:15 EST. East Coasters without Tivo should contrive an excuse to leave work early on Monday (12/6) to get a double dose of Brubeck in two very different but highly entertaining films. New Yorkers can also catch Sweet’s world premiere this Saturday (12/4) at the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s Walter Reade Theater.

QSF Plays DB

QSF Plays Brubeck
ViolinJazz Recordings

Though never really a part of the West Coast “Cool” jazz movement, Dave Brubeck is the quintessential California jazz artist. The son of a hardy cattle rancher, Brubeck would study at Oakland’s Mills College with the acclaimed French émigré composer Darius Milhaud and first came to prominence on the Berkley-based Fantasy label. Renowned for his experiments with unusual time signatures, Brubeck would also compose several large scale sacred orchestral pieces, combining classical and jazz idioms. Given his roots and influences, it seems quite fitting that the genre-defying Bay Area-based Quartet San Francisco would interpret his compositions on their latest CD, logically titled QSF Plays Brubeck.

Brubeck’s Time Out is one of the bestselling jazz records of all time, so it makes sense the quartet chose many of those familiar compositions, starting with “Three to Get Ready,” a jazz waltz that seems particularly well suited to the string quartet format. Yet the QSF (violinists Jeremy Cohen and Alisa Rose, violist Keith Lawrence, and cellist Michelle Djokic) still preserve a sense of Brubeck’s muscular rhythmic drive. They also faithfully translate “Strange Meadowlark,” retaining Brubeck’s elegant introduction and Paul Desmond’s sweetly sincere alto solo in violinist Jeremy Cohen’s string arrangement.

Departing from Time Out and subsequent “Time” themed albums (Time In, Time Further Out), the QSF also cover “The Golden Horn,” a composition inspired by Brubeck’s 1958 U.S. State Department of Eastern Europe and the Mid East. Again, Cohen’s arrangement and the Quartet’s seamless ensemble playing effectively capture the exotic vibe of Brubeck’s melody, derived from “Choktasha-keraderam,” the Turkish words for “thank you.”

“The Duke” was Brubeck’s tribute to Duke Ellington, his longtime Columbia label-mate and inspiration. The arrangement, by Brubeck’s cellist son Matthew, is as buoyant and lilting original, slyly quoting from several Ellington standards in its swinging prelude. Also quite rousing is the brief rendition of “Unsquare Dance,” with Rose getting down-home with the jazz waltz.

Even though it was composed by Desmond, the QSF had to include “Take Five,” arguably the single most recognizable jazz tune ever waxed, which Brubeck has probably played nearly every night of his life since it was first recorded in 1959. In their improvised solos, Rose and then Cohen nicely express their distinctive musical personalities, while Cohen’s arrangement evokes the cool mood of the original.

The QSF conclude with an exploration of the sacred Brubeck, giving a stirring rendition of “Forty Days” (a reference to Christ in the Desert), originally a “Time” composition that evolved into the extended composition Light in the Wilderness. Spotlighting Djokic’s cello, it is the dramatic highpoint of the disk. Their moving performance is appropriately followed by the traditional “What Child is This” (a.k.a. “Greensleeves”), the ringer of the set, but qualifying for inclusion because Brubeck performed as a piano solo on a Christmas CD in the 1990’s.

Throughout the program, the QSF show the discipline of a fine classical chamber ensemble, but also a surprisingly swinging approach to time. The result is an excellent hybrid of jazz and classical forms that should particularly appeal to those well steeped in Brubeck’s music. It is a classy tribute that even carries the endorsement of the Jazz Ambassador himself.

JFA Delivers Another Great Night

Wendy and the Jazz Foundation of America staff deserve congratulations for producing their best annual Great Night in Harlem benefit last night, based on the five of seven concerts I have attended. Not to be misinterpreted, they have always been great shows, but the Apollo Theater sound system was much more cooperative this year than in years prior.

Again, the music has always been great, but this year seemed to have more working groups than one-time-only jam ensembles, which probably yielded better results. For instance, Randy Weston opened with longtime bassist Alex Blake and percussionist Neil Clarke for the spiritually transcendent opener “The Healers.”

They were followed (after a brief piano solo and introduction from Chevy Chase) by Dave Brubeck’s quartet of altoist Bobby Militello, bassist Michael Moore, and drummer Randy Jones. In a true example of giving the people what they want, they played “Take Five.” If Brubeck played it say 400 times a year since recording it in the summer of 1959, this could be around the 19,200th time he has played it in performance, yet it still sounds fresh. Militello particularly tore up the solo, not at all sounding like a Desmond carbon copy. The entire quartet sounded great, and why not? Playing “Take Five” with Brubeck on the stage of the Apollo has to rank pretty high up there.

The Foundation is indelibly linked to New Orleans now after all the emergency services they provided to musicians in the wake of Katrina, so there is usually a Crescent City presence at Great Night shows. Dr. Michael White’s Original Liberty Jazz Band returned this year, exploring the bawdier roots of jazz and blues with vocalist Thais Clark through the song “Horn Man Blues.” It was great fun, delivered with style, but to describe it as double entendre would suggest misleading subtlety—it is pretty straight-forward about sleeping with the band.

Arguably the biggest guest star was Norah Jones, performing “The Nearness of You” backed by Buster Williams and Hank Jones, who was presented a cake for his ninetieth birthday. Actually, it would have been cool to hear that powerhouse duo take a purely instrumental turn, but the only act to get more than one number was Frank Foster’s Loud Minority, who followed Foster’s emotional thanks to the Foundation. They started with his standard “Shiny Stockings” as an instrumental showcase for guest soloists Jimmy Heath, Frank Foster, and Phil Woods, and then backed vocalist Nnenna Freelon’s “Don’t Explain.” Of course, the greatest applause probably went to Wendy on harmonica during the concluding blues jam, as it usually does.

JFA does amazing work on behalf of jazz musicians in need. The concert might be over but you can still contribute. Visit their website here or send a check to:

Jazz Foundation of America

322 W. 48th St., 6th Floor

New York, NY 10036

The Light and the Gates

When taking stock of jazz’s sacred music this Easter weekend, it became apparent that two of Dave Brubeck’s more important LPs are essentially unavailable on CD, despite his stature and commercial success. Surely, The Gates of Justice and the double LP The Light in the Wilderness, his Decca releases recorded with Erich Kunzel and the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra, are important milestones in Brubeck’s discography, regardless of their initial commercial reception.

The original Gates remains unavailable digitally, although a new version was recorded on Naxos in the 1990’s. Of course, it just is not the same session. The first recording is considered much darker, while the second omits some elements, including a love-it-or-hate-it organ solo.

Light was available on CD at one time from exclusively from one of the record-of-the-month clubs, but since most people are terrified of dealing with them for fear of being blitzed with CDs they did not order, it in effect remains out-of-print. Like Gates, Light is an ambitious composition for symphonic brass and choir, but it features more pronounced jazz interludes for Brubeck’s trio.

Both sessions are heavy stuff, and would never reach the audience that Take Five has. Their dated cover art does not help either. They do represent a pivotal point in Brubeck’s career, so it is still strange that a turntable is required to hear them. It was to pursue such large scale compositions that Brubeck temporarily put his popular quartet on hold. They also led to further such sacred works, including To Hope! A Celebration, a jazz Mass commissioned by Our Sunday Visitor. As America, the National Catholic Weekly explained, the experience would ultimately have a great effect on his life:

“The ‘Our Father’ was not listed among the parts given to Brubeck to set to music. When the Rev. Ron Brassard heard the completed Mass, he noticed the oversight and pressed Brubeck to wrote music for it as well. Brubeck’s emphatic response was that he was tired and going on vacation with his family. Something, however, stirred in the composer. On the second night of his vacation he dreamed an entire Our Father: ‘I jumped out of bed and wrote it down, because I knew its simplicity was working and I didn’t want it to get away from me…[ellipsis in America] and it’s so simple; but I heard the choir and the orchestration, everything.” The experience had such a profound effect on Brubeck, he became a Catholic. That very night he said to himself, ‘If this is what’s happening, I think I’ll join the church.”

A biographer could well argue that Hope followed a logical course set in motion by the spiritual searching of Gates and Wilderness. In his notes to Wilderness Brubeck wrote:

“I am not affiliated with any church. Three Jewish teachers have been a great influence on my life—Irving Goleman, Darius Milhaud, and Jesus. I am a product of Judaic-Christian thinking. Without the complications of theological doctrine I wanted to understand what I had inherited in this world—both problems and answers—from that cultural heritage.”

Years later, Brubeck would receive the Laetare Medal, considered “the oldest and most prestigious honor given to American Catholics.” Light and Wilderness would be a nice collector’s set, making an important, if uneven period of his career available to his fans and students.