Ron Carter: Finding the Right Notes, on PBS

Anyone who has more than a handful of jazz records in their collection probably has one Carter played on. It is just the law of averages, given his official Guinness world record as the most recorded jazz bassist. He also played with almost everyone, very definitely including Miles Davis (but not John Coltrane, as he himself points out during this doc). To a large extent, Ron Carter’s discography is a history of modern jazz, from hard bop to right now. At eighty-five he shows no signs of slowing down, except when it is mandated by Covid shutdowns. Peter Schnall documented the musician at work and during reflective moments, before and after Xi’s pandemic, in Ron Carter: Finding the Right Notes, which premieres Friday on PBS.

Carter has recorded as a sideman and a leader for both Blue Note and CTI, two jazz labels with radically different sounds. He also played on recordings by Roberta Flack, A Tribe Called Quest, Paul Simon and just about every major jazz artist. He was the first musician Davis hired for his “Second Great Quintet,” which many fans consider superior to the first. Not surprisingly, Carter speaks at length about his late boss, probably more than any other musician worked with.

Schnall obviously uses Dan Ouellette’s like-titled biography a road map, but his cameras recorded Carter during the painful moments, as they happened, in the wake of his son’s untimely death. On a happier note, he was also there to document performances celebrating Carter’s 80^th and 85^th birthdays. Of course, there was also the Covid shutdown.

Probably the best lessons aspiring musicians can take from Right Notes simply come from Carter being Carter. He is a paragon of professionalism, who demands the same of students and sidemen. Jon Batiste remembers how he learned that first-hand during his informal interviews with Carter. When the bassist talks, you should listen.

Jazz and the Philharmonic: Real Jazz on PBS

For many ardent listeners, the words “jazz” and “philharmonic” have heavy significance when used in close proximity. It automatically summons images of the all-star concerts and recording sessions the legendary Norman Granz produced in concert halls around the country. This is not a Granz production. The philharmonic reference is more in keeping with the classical tradition. However, the jazz is still for real in Jazz and the Philharmonic (promo here), a concert featuring alumni of the National YoungArts Foundation, the Henry Mancini Institute Orchestra, and some of the top names in jazz, which airs on most PBS stations this Friday (yes, real honest-to-gosh jazz on PBS).

Of course, jazz and classical crossover fusions are nothing new. That is exactly what Third Stream Jazz was all about. While many of the program selections feature jazz soloists playing with the Mancini Orchestra (whose namesake would surely have approved of the program, especially the theme from Charade), there are several straight-up solo, duo, or trio jazz performances, which is obviously not a bad thing.

In fact, it is a very good thing when Chick Corea, Dave Grusin, and Bobby McFerrin open the concert with an elegant but persistently swinging “Autumn Leaves” for voice and two pianos. Corea fans really get their money’s worth throughout the concert, with the NEA Jazz Master performing in a variety of settings, mostly notably joining the Mancini Orchestra on his “Spanish Suite,” a composition perfectly suited to the evening. His duet with McFerrin, “Armando’s Rhumba” is not as distinctive, but they clearly enjoy making music together, which is part of the fun of a show like this.

In addition to “Spanish Suite,” Terence Blanchard also has feature spots on “Fugue in C Minor” and “Solfeggietto,” probably the two most overtly swinging-the-classics numbers of the evening. However, he is probably best showcased fronting the orchestra for a rendition of “Charade,” a wonderfully lush arrangement that brings to mind his classic Jazz in Film CD. Yet, perhaps the most effective jazz and classical dialogue comes when Elizabeth Joy Roe and Shelly Berg tackle “The Man I Love” as a lyrical but muscular piano duet, from the classical and jazz sides, respectively.

Nevertheless, the surprise peak of the concert integrates the sounds of deep roots Americana as well as jazz and classical when violinist Mark O’Connor joins pianist Dave Grusin on a sensitive and soulful version of “Simple Gifts,” the Shaker standard subsequently incorporated into Copeland’s Appalachian Spring. Rather fittingly, Grusin’s “Mountain Dance” follows. Purists might dismiss it as too “smooth,” but man, is it ever a pretty melody, sounding almost tailor made for the full orchestral treatment. It also provides a nice launching pad for O’Connor. In fact, Grusin takes two rather impressive solos as well: one fleet and swinging and the second surprisingly adventurous—so take that jazz snobs.

Aside from a weird choice for a closer (Also sprach Zarathustra from 2001, really?), Jazz and the Philharmonic is an extremely welcome dose of jazz on primetime PBS. It ranges from pleasantly entertaining to downright revelatory. It should motivate viewer-listeners to keep an eye out for a talented newcomer like Roe and catch up with the work of accomplished veterans like O’Connor and Blanchard. Naturally, it always sounds great from a technical perspective, thanks to the late, great engineer Phil Ramone, in whose memory it is dedicated. Highly recommended, Jazz and the Philharmonic airs on hip PBS outlets this Friday night (2/28).

The Cool Master: Cab Calloway

With the Gershwins’ Porgy and Bess back on Broadway, it is a fine time to pay homage to the original Sportin’ Life. It was a role modeled on and originated by the timelessly hip jazz vocalist and bandleader Cab Calloway. Though far from exhaustive, Gail Levin hits a lot of his career highlights in the breezy and informative Cab Calloway: Sketches (trailer here), which airs on PBS’s American Masters this coming Monday.

Naturally, there is a lot of “Minnie the Moocher” in Sketches. It is the Calloway song everybody knows, even if they do not know they know it. Here’s a hint: “Hi de hi de hi de ho.” Sound familiar? Legions of fans were first introduced to it in the Blues Brothers movie. Understandably, Sketches spends a great deal of time on this late career renaissance for bandleader, featuring the reminiscences of director John Landis and Blues Brothers band members Steve Cropper, Lou Marini and Donald “Duck” Dunne, who still give Calloway props for coolness.

Levin also assembles the usual suspects of jazz talking heads to place Calloway in a musical-historical context. However, some of the most insightful commentary comes from his grandson Chris “Calloway” Brooks, the leader of the Calloway ghost band. While his stage persona is a bit shticky, Brooks really breaks down the inner workings of Calloway’s band and music in a way that should inspire fresh appreciation for the bandleader among those who previously had trouble getting past the zoot suits.

Sketches touches on the Cotton Club years, The Hepster’s Dictionary, and his appearance with Lena Horne in Stormy Weather. Of course, there is plenty it misses, like his run on Broadway in Hello Dolly opposite Pearl Bailey or the spitball controversy involving his soon to be former sideman Dizzy Gillespie that inspired Jean Bach’s award- winning documentary short (which it actually saves as an outtake for the American Masters website), but as a bite-sized sampler, it is an easily digestible introduction to the American Hepster Master. After all, when was the last time you saw Calloway on free TV, besides maybe a rebroadcast of The Blues Brothers?

At just under an hour, Sketches is brief, but entertaining and affectionate. Arguably, if it leaves viewers wanting more, it has achieved its purpose. A nicely put together jazz tribute, Sketches is recommended for general audiences when it runs on PBS this Monday (2/27), as part of the current season of American Masters.

(Photos: Artline Films / J.-F. Pitet)

Hunting Monsters: Elusive Justice—the Search for Nazi War Criminals

If there is a distinction between justice and revenge Joseph Harmatz has no time for it. The former Jewish-Lithuanian partisan brought thousands of National Socialists to justice, permanently. He certainly got results, but his targets were the exception rather than the rule. Jonathan Silvers documents how so many Nazis evaded judgment for their crimes and the dogged efforts to finally capture and prosecute them in Elusive Justice: The Search for Nazi War Criminals (promo here), which premieres on PBS tomorrow night.

It was an incident the U.S. government still keeps tightly under wraps. Acting on inside information, Harmatz and his comrades poisoned a shipment of bread destined for SS officers in an American POW camp. According to Elusive, over 2,200 of the prisoners were executed as a result. Yet, tens of thousands of culpable National Socialists emerged from the war relatively unscathed. Many continued living in Europe with impunity, while thousands escaped to Latin America, where Juan Perón (Evita’s husband) was particularly welcoming.

At times, Elusive is a bit judgmental, particularly during the first half, which clearly blames the American government for not energetically pursuing war criminals until the 1980’s, when there was a sea change of policy. Yet, former Army prosecutor and current International Criminal Court official Benjamin Ferencz argues extensive prosecutions would have been nearly impossible if the allies were to keep Germany functioning on any level as a civil state.

Perhaps the strongest sequences establish the corrosive influence the fugitive war criminals had in Perónista Argentina. Uki Goñi, the eloquent crusading journalist who exposed the secret mass immigration of Nazi war criminals to Argentina, estimates their numbers in the thousands. Indeed, Elusive interviews some a number of relevant expert witnesses, including Goñi and Ferencz, with former U.S. Attorney and New York Mayor Rudolph Giuliani probably being the most prominent.

In general, Elusive is more compelling depicting the hunt and the hunters, rather than second-guessing the allies’ post-war conduct, as shortsighted as some decisions might have been. Indeed, there are stories of intrigue and retribution far more incredible than anything concocted in films like The Debt. If nothing else, viewers will gain a keen appreciation for the Israeli intelligence services. Revealing some fascinating under-reported history, rife with irony, Elusive is often eye-opening stuff. Overall quite educational and galling, it is well worth seeing tomorrow night (11/15) on most PBS outlets, including New York’s Thirteen, with a subsequent DVD release scheduled for December 13th.

Action Music

Lights, Action, Music
Directed by Dan Lieberstein
First Look Studios

Nothing creates a stronger sense memory of a great film like an equally great score. Take for instance, François Truffaut’s Day for Night, blessed with themes composed by Georges Delerue which indelibly lodge in the mind. It is love-letter to filmmaking that was recently brought to mind by Lights, Action, Music, a documentary examining the power and process of film compositions directed by Dan Lieberstein.

Originally broadcast on PBS (in New York on Long Island’s WLIW, but not on Channel 13 in the City), LAM combines film clips, interviews, and some original studio orchestra recreations. It gives some historical perspective on film scoring, providing short sketches of great Hollywood composers like Dimitri Tiomkin and Franz Waxman, but more time is given to explanations of the work-a-day process of film scoring and orchestrating.

Lieberstein filmed interviews with some of the top film composers working today, including John Barry of 007 fame, Academy Award winners David Shire (Norma Rae), and Gustavo Santaolalla (Brokeback Mountain, Babel), as well as jazz musician and frequent Spike Lee collaborator Terence Blanchard. (Given Blanchard’s participation, I’ll have to give this a “Jazz on PBS” tag.)

Each offers some real insights into what they do, but Elliot Goldenthal, himself an Oscar winner for Frida, comes across as the wittiest. He explains the lesson learned on his first scoring gig for a film of an adult nature, so to speak: “stay out of the way of the movie—just write stuff that doesn’t interfere with what’s on the screen.” Only Marcelo Zarvos, best known for the didactic flop The Good Shepherd seems out of place here, as Osvaldo Golijov brings a certain perspective as a first-time film composer for Francis Ford Coppola’s Youth Without Youth.

The interview segments are the strongest aspects of LAM, especially for students of film and film scoring. Unfortunately, the selection of film clips is not as strong, likely due to licensing constraints. The only example of a universally acknowledged classic combination of film and music seen in LAM is that of Rocky Balboa running up the steps to Bill Conti’s triumphant theme.

While Elmer Bernstein’s score for Hawaii might have been Oscar nominated, in retrospect it is not as enduring as his scores for The Magnificent Seven or Man with the Golden Arm, the first jazz influenced soundtrack to be nominated for an Academy Award. As for Delerue, he is not represented for his great collaborations with Truffaut, but for Ken Russell’s Women in Love. Again, these might have been selections based on necessity rather than preference.

However, Lieberstein does deserve credit for some shrewd musical choices. Blanchard is heard performing “Levees,” a theme from the Spike Lee miniseries, which is currently up for a Grammy nomination (the resulting album, A Tale of God’s Will was on the J.B. Spins 2007 top ten list). While Taking of Pelham One Two Three may not be Shire’s most famous film, it happens to be a really cool score. The attention given to his soundtrack for Coppola’s The Conversation (another film with jazz influences) is also well warranted.

LAM, the film itself, is actually quite short, just under an hour. However, there are two hours of bonus interview footage on the DVD, which are indeed the strengths of the film. It is definitely well-worth spending time to hear insights into film and music from Blanchard, Shire, and Barry.

PBS Stomps Off Holiday Jazz

Whenever PBS broadcasts jazz programming, I have to give it breaking news treatment. After all, I have been critical of the network for using Ken Burns Jazz series as a carrot during pledge drives, and then failing to deliver regular jazz programming throughout the rest of the year (terms like “bait and switch” may have been bandied about). So PBS definitely deserves credit for broadcasting Wynton Marsalis and members of the J@LC band live from their home in the House of Swing (Rose Hall at the Time Warner Center) in Red Hot Holiday Stomp, as part of the Live from Lincoln Center series.

The first half of the program was a well conceived set consisting largely of swinging versions of holiday favorites. Literally everyone loves jazz Christmas music, but a lot of folks just do not realize it. After all, jazz musician Vince Guaraldi was responsible the beloved music of the ever-popular A Charlie Brown Christmas. Here Marsalis and company run through some crowd pleasing Christmas standards like “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer,” “Carol of the Bells,” “Santa Clause is Coming to Town,” and what Marsalis called “that old Christmas favorite:” “Sheik of Araby.”

If not revolutionary, there were some very entertaining solos, especially from Wessel “Warmdaddy” Anderson on alto and Wycliffe “Pinecone” Gordon on trombone—it is great to hear them back in the band. “Sweet Papa” Don Vappie, who according to Marsalis “got up out of his sick bed to come out here tonight,” probably supplied the highlight of the set with his soulful vocal on “Blue Christmas.”

The second half of the set was made up of “Music, Deep Rivers in My Soul,” a musical collaboration between Marsalis and poet Maya Angelou. S. Epatha Merkerson conveyed strength and warmth in her delivery of Angelou’s words, but the text itself seemed slight compared to the heft of Marsalis’s major works on similar themes, like Blood on the Fields, Congo Square, and In This House on This Morning. Though impressive, the energy of Jared Grimes accompanying tap dancing is probably best experienced live, and was not well served by the camera work last night. Again, the band acquitted itself well. In particular, Ali Jackson’s concluding drum solo was a perfect conclusion, showing wit and dexterity, rather than bombast.

Surprisingly, the typically witty Marsalis did not bring his A game for between-tune banter, but the only really embarrassing aspect of the broadcast was Glenn Close’s gushy “interview” with Marsalis. If you can forget that, which should not be hard to do, it was entertaining showcase of what J@LC does best. (Look for it if your local affiliate did not carry it live last night.) Even if you are not down with Marsalis and his conceptions of jazz, this is great band. It has most of what I consider their classic line-up from the late 1990’s, with fantastic musicians, like Anderson, Gordon, Joe Temperly, Victor Goines, Ron Westray, and of course Marsalis himself, making Holiday Stomp a solid, if all too infrequent, jazz feature on Public Television.

Soundies

Soundies: a Musical History
Hosted by Michael Feinstein
Liberation Entertainment

There was a long paucity of jazz on PBS following the Ken Burns documentary series. In recent years though, there has been a greater presence for the music on public broadcasting. The latest, Soundies: a Musical History (trailer here), which premiered during the March 2007 pledge breaks (though not on New York’s WNET, I believe), fits in with recent PBS music programming that has emphasized nostalgic greatest hits.

Soundies are described by host Michael Feinstein as the original music videos—synched film and audio projected onto a screen in the Mills Novelty Company’s “refrigerator-sized” Panoram machine. Eight soundies fit to a reel playing in a continuous loop, making it impossible for patrons to choose preferred clips.

Soundies starts by showing one of the best, as chosen by several on-screen commentators—Duke Ellington’s “Hot Chocolate” (a.k.a. “Cottontail”), featuring Ben Webster on tenor. In addition to Duke’s men, “Hot Chocolate” also features Whitey’s Lindy Hoppers, including Frankie Manning, seen performing a sometimes painful step in which Dottiemae Johnson kicks him from behind, sending him flying into the air.

Following Ellington, Soundies follows up with swinging numbers like Cab Calloway’s “Blowtop Blues” and Nat King Cole’s “Frim Fram Sauce.” Although country and pop-classical musicians are represented, the majority of the artists represented on Soundies are either legitimate jazz greats of the swing era, or contemporary popular vocalists who straddle the border of swing and sweet.

Not every novelty soundie deserves classic status. “Clink! Clink! Another Drink,” a Spike Jones drinking song is included because it features Looney Tunes voice-over artist Mel Blanc, and its charms would indeed require a strong buzz. There are some interesting discoveries though. Will Bradley’s big band is relatively unsung today, but they show a driving swing on “Boardwalk Blues,” matching up reasonably well to the bigger name bands in Soundies. However, the accompanying white-bread jitterbuggers simply cannot compare to Manning and his Lindy hoppers.

There is plenty here to interest jazz fans, including soundies from Fats Waller, American Master Les Paul, Kay Starr, and Count Basie’s band (featuring Jimmy Rushing). Like Peter Townsend’s Pearl Harbor Jazz, Soundies effectively blurs the distinctions between codified swing-style jazz, and 1940’s pop music. In fact, one of the best performances is “Lazy River” by the Mills Brothers, identified as the kind of vocal group who benefitted from the AFM musicians union ban on recording. Discussion of the unintended consequences of the recording ban, leading to changes in the entertainment tastes of the American public, have some added saliency now, as a strike looms over Broadway.

Intended to be interrupted by pledge breaks, Soundies can feel episodic. Within the Soundies program itself, there are no complete soundies, even though they clock-in around only three minutes. However, in the bonus section, six of Feinstein’s favorites are included in their entirety, and again, one of the best comes from the Mills Brothers. Feinstein also contributes an original song inspired by the program, “The Songs of Yesterday Are Here To Stay,” featuring some appealing clarinet accompaniment from Dan Block.

Soundies offers up plenty of footage that jazz lovers will enjoy (even if they do find many clips to be too short), and makes some interesting editorial choices in what it features. It is just good to see more programming encompassing jazz on PBS, and eventually finding its way to DVD.

A Duke Named Ellington

A Duke Named Ellington
Council for Positive Images

In his youth, Edward Kennedy Ellington would play in the streets of Washington, D.C. as the former president Teddy Roosevelt sometimes looked on. Late in his life, Duke Ellington would befriend Pres. Nixon, then occupying the White House, who would award him the Medal of Freedom while hosting Duke’s seventieth birthday party. In between a very public life was lived by a very private person. Ellington was indeed an American master, so he was a fitting subject for the PBS series of the same name. Originally aired as an installment of Masters in 1988, A Duke Named Ellington is now available on DVD.

While Duke Named does cover the basics of Ellington's career, it is more concerned with his music, than simply stringing together a list of dates and places. While they do miss some important elements of the Ellington story, like his innovative use of Jimmy Blanton’s bass, the focus on the music serves their subject well, showing the confidence to include some performances in their entirety, like “The Opener,” “Chelsea Bridge,” and “Solitude.” In effect, filmmaker Terry Carter is content to let Ellington’s music speak for itself, as opposed to Ken Burns’ Jazz, which would show a short excerpt, and then cut to a talking head to tell viewers how brilliant it was.

Duke Named features extensive interview footage with band members including, Clark Terry, Jimmy Hamilton, Russell Procope, Louis Bellson, Cootie Williams, and vocalists Herb Jeffries, Alice Babs, and Adelaide Hall. (Leonard Feather serves as the designated commentator, which might be a drawback for some.) Most milestones in the Duke canon are covered, including the “Black Brown and Beige” suite, and “Creole Love Song,” featuring Hall, described as “the first wordless jazz vocal.”

Duke’s deep religious conviction is often overlooked, but Ellington’s Sacred Concerts are given their due here. Jeffries provides perspective, telling his interviewer: “he also, in my mind’s eye, was truly a very Godly human being.” Perhaps even less known were his ballet collaborations with Alvin Ailey. The River, commissioned by the American Ballet Theater is featured, and the music is certainly interesting, if the least Ellingtonian sounding in its brief clip, perhaps for the strings. (It would be fascinating to see the entire work released.) Another Ailey collaboration “Night Creature,” most definitely has that Ellington swing.

Duke sidemen repeatedly make the point that Ellington composed for the musician’s personality not their instruments. In fact, we get to know their personalities more than that of the maestro himself. This is not to fault the film, which makes an excellent case for Ellington’s genius. It is well put together by producer-director-narrator Terry Carter, perhaps best known as Col. Tigh on the original Battlestar (which should give it additional cred with sci-fi geeks out there).

Ellington, who moved so many with his music, still defies attempts to delve beneath the surface of his persona. He projected a suave, debonair image, while privately he was devout individual, dedicated to his mother and sister. The depth and extent of his work though, is still inspiring musicians and listeners. With its archival interview footage of Duke himself, his sidemen, and some excellent, uninterrupted performances of his band, Duke Named is a worthy introduction to an American genius.

Les Paul—American Master

Monday nights are usually off nights in the New York jazz clubs, but it is usually one of the strongest for the Iridium, thanks to Les Paul’s longtime regular Monday engagement there. Next week, PBS viewers can get a good taste of Paul’s Iridium shows in Les Paul: Chasing Sound, the newest installment of American Masters, airing July 11th on WNET 13 here in the New York area.


Chasing starts by documenting some recent events of Paul’s life, like his induction into the Inventors Hall of Fame, his birthday celebration at the Iridium, and the donation of some of his groundbreaking audio equipment to the Smithsonian. Viewers eventually get an overview of Paul’s life through his reminiscences and the reflections of on-screen commentators, without a traditional narrator reading biographical data.

Paul is unique for having made an impact in many different musical genres. He jammed with Art Tatum, while working as a country musician on Chicago radio. As for Paul’s jazz influences, Gary Giddins identifies that of Django Reinhardt:

“More than any other guitarist, it’s Django that you often hear in Les Paul’s mature style. The main thing is the clarity of the style, the simplicity of the melodic line.”

Through Paul’s recollections, we get a picture of a resourceful young musician. Despite being told by bandleader Fred Waring, “I’ve got sixty-two Pennsylvanians to feed and I’m not looking for any more,” an impromptu hallway audition landed him a position with Waring’s outfit. After Waring, Paul became associated with Bing Crosby, and eventually found his greatest popular success with his vocalist-wife Mary Ford.

Wisely, Paul is the dominant voice of Chasing, in interview segments and performance clips. We also hear from figures like Giddins, Bucky Pizzarelli, Kay Starr, Tony Bennett, B.B. King, and Johnny Frigo. Periodically, rock legends also appear in Chasing to pay tribute to the master for his groundbreaking multi-track recording and overdubbing techniques, as well as perfecting the solid body electric guitar. The solid body Gibson Les Paul is called: “by far, the most successful endorsement relationship ever in the history of musical instruments,” and it would become a favorite of a generation of rockers.

Throughout the film, Paul comes off as a likeable, witty individual. Ultimately, Chasing is as much a tribute to Paul’s continuing longevity, still playing at a highly accomplished level every Monday night at age 92, as it is to his audio innovations. It is well worth catching on PBS next Wed. (7/11), at 9:00 (ET).

Jazz in the White House

It has been a banner year for jazz on New York PBS affiliate, with two primetime sightings. After Independent Lens’ Billy Strayhorn: Lush Life in February, last night Channel 13 broadcast In Performance at the White House: Thelonious Monk Institute of Jazz. It would be nice to see a little primetime love for Legends of Jazz with Ramsey Lewis, but WNET 13 can’t seem to handle programming jazz on more than a bi-monthly basis.

That said, the White House special was a great tribute to both the Monk Institute and the jazz legend it is named for. Benefit concerts and all-star specials can be a little uneven, as the ensembles usually are not particularly well rehearsed or cohesive, but the quality of music heard in the White House concert was surprisingly good.

Actually, there was only one Monk tune in the concert, although quite a bit was heard from the pianist during a segment of archival footage. To maximize accessibility, there were several vocal features, including the good swinging opener, “Kansas City,” which showcased Institute competition winners, including vocalist Lisa Henry and Helen Sung on piano.

Probably the best performance was from Herbie Hancock, leading an all-star ensemble of Roy Hargrove on trumpet, Wayne Shorter on soprano, Ron Carter on bass, and Terri Lynne Carrington on drums through his classic “Watermelon Man.” Shorter and Hargrove would later display some great interplay on “Rhythm-a-Ning,” the concert’s one Monk standard.

Another highlight was “I Won’t Dance,” an Ella and Louis inspired vocal duet for the elegant Nnenna Freelon and the great Clark Terry. While Freelon handled the traditional lyrics, Terry offered some of his mumbles-inspired vocal punctuations and a nice solo on flugelhorn. It was a great performance, held together by Sung’s stylishly swinging piano. Terry’s participation is particularly fitting, as he led the last session Monk played as a sideman, released as In Orbit on Riverside Records. The one Monk tune they recorded, “Let’s Cool One,” remains a staple of Terry’s sets.

It seemed like a lot of thought went into the ensembles. Terry, Hargrove, and George Duke (who accompanied Anita Baker on a refreshingly less maudlin “My Funny Valentine”) are all familiar to some PBS viewers of the first season of Legends of Jazz. Wayne Shorter served in the second great Miles Davis Quintet with Ron Carter, and was a label mate of Herbie Hancock’s during the classic Blue Note years. He could also relate to Bobby Watson as a fellow alumnus of Art Blakey’s Jazz messengers.

All told, it was a totally first-class affair, but presumably the lunatics will find something to object to. The First Lady’s introduction was brief, but apt, describing jazz as “America’s cultural treasure.” The President’s concluding remarks, as filmed, were briefer, but no less fitting, as he thanked the musicians “for filling the White House with such joy.” No doubt, some will be analyzing the tape to see if the President was appropriately enthusiastic. From what I saw, he certainly seemed to be grooving to the finale, “It Don’t Mean a Thing.”

The Monk Institute concert was a consistently strong special and a great opportunity to spotlight jazz. One can hope that WNET will capitalize the good vibe, and schedule the second season of Legends at a time when people who work for a living can watch it.

Strays on PBS

There must have been a blue moon last night, with WNET 13 actually showing jazz programming in primetime. Independent Lens’ Billy Strayhorn: Lush Life was broadcast on the New York PBS affiliate from 10:00 to 11:30 PM—still probably too late to introduce kids in school to a jazz great, but the first primetime showing for jazz on WNET in several years, none the less. (Call me a snob, but I just can’t count the Chris Botti special.)

This space has been critical of PBS and 13 for claiming to champion jazz during the broadcast of Ken Burns’ Jazz and the attendant pledge solicitations, but delivered precious little since. Terms like “bait and switch” may have been used here. So give credit to PBS and WNET for Lush Life last night.

It was a comprehensive and entertaining look at the artist so closely associated with Duke Ellington. While chronicling Strayhorn’s all too brief life, Lush Life frequently returned to the music itself. The filmmakers nicely blended archival footage with newly recorded tracks predominantly from Blue Note artists. Elvis Costello would probably be the marquee name performing, but the best matches of artist to material were Bill Charlap interpreting “Valse” and the great Hank Jones swinging his way through “China Doll.”

Obviously, Lush Life has been in the works for some time, given the original interview footage with the late Luther Henderson. It probably would have been helpful for viewers not obsessively familiar with things Ellingtonian to have some context for who the interview subjects were, but that’s a minor quibble. Overall, it was definitely worthy programming.

Narrow PBS POV on Lomax

Does PBS really hate jazz and blues? It sure seems so. Last night I watched Lomax the Songhunter, POV’s documentary on Alan Lomax, the great folklorist and field recorder recorder for the Library of Congress. Lomax made music history when he traveled to the Sherrod plantation to record a bluesman named McKinley Morganfield. Morganfield is now known and beloved as Muddy Waters, an artist whose influence on blues and rock musicians like the Rolling Stones (named after one of his songs) is incalculable. Lomax would describe the session in The Land Where the Blues Began, which was awarded the National Book Critics Circle Award. Lomax is the author of Mister Jelly Roll, a book that developed out his celebrated LOC recordings of jazz pioneer Jelly Roll Morton reminiscing and performing at the piano.

Oddly, even though Lomax’s name is forever intertwined with early blues history, POV focused almost exclusively on Lomax’s work documenting European folk artists, or American folk artists, like Jean Ritchie, whose songs trace their lineage to European forms. The only music from African-American sources POV featured were work songs from Southern prisons (close to the blues). No Muddy Waters, Leadbelly, or Mississippi Fred McDowell, all who were essentially “discovered” by Lomax. Certainly, Lomax documented the folk music of many diverse cultures, but by ignoring the blues, POV excluded many career highpoints. The filmmaker is entitled to his editorial choices, but what he produced will most likely be of minor interest to those who study Lomax and his legacy.