Tribeca ’24: They All Came Out to Montreux

It hardly seems fair. The biggest jazz fests regularly invite non-jazz artists, but how many jazz musicians get the same hospitality from rock and pop fests, like Lollapalooza? The Montreux Jazz Festival is a prime example. Over the years, it has regularly hosted big name stars from a host of genres. That is not necessarily good or bad, but it something jazz fans are keenly aware of. They still programmed a lot of amazing jazz sets, including many that were immortalized as absolutely classic live albums recorded by the likes of Bill Evans and Keith Jarrett. Oliver Murray profiles the fest from all musical perspectives in the feature-documentary cut of They All Came Out to Montreux, which screens at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

Montreux was (and largely remains) a wealthy, but largely sleepy Swiss town perched on the shore of Lake Geneva. Lifelong festival director Claude Nobs founded the festival as a project of the municipal tourism office—and it worked. Under Nobs’ leadership, often in close, unofficial consultation with Nesuhi Ertegun of Atlantic Records, Montreux grew into the pre-eminent European music festival, encompassing just about every musical style (but there was always a solid helping of jazz on the program).

Thanks in part to Ertegun’s help, Montreux’s international reputation spread through the live albums recorded at the festival, including Bill Evans’ Grammy-winning Live at Montreux. Arguably, the most important might have been Les McCann and Eddie Harris’s Swiss Movement. Appropriately, Murray incorporates considerable live footage of their classic performance of “Compared to What,” but does not fully explain what a popular crossover hit it became in 1969 (at the time, Swiss Movement was like Kind of Blue—one of the few jazz records non-jazz fans might own).

Murray obviously has a thorough grounding in jazz (he previously helmed Ronnie’s, a documentary about the legendary London jazz club) and he secured interviews with real deal jazz authorities, like the late George Wein (founder of the Newport Jazz Festival), the late Michael Cuscuna (producer for Blue Note and Mosaic Records), and Quincy Jones, who needs no introduction.

Of course, there are a lot of styles of music documented in Murray’s doc, which accurately reflects the character of the festival. Some of it was also pretty significant too. For instance, Queen and David Bowie recorded “Under Pressure” at the Montreux studio while they were both appearing at the festival. Nevertheless, the lengths he takes to de-center jazz might just start to vex some jazz supporters.

Yet, there is no denying the value of the archive Nobs created by videotaping every performance (just look at Nina Simone, Wayne Shorter, David Sanborn, Weather Report, Ray Charles, and Quincy Jones, all “Live at Montreux”). It also left a wealth of material for Murray to excerpt. Almost every image in the film either came from the Montreux library or Swiss television.

DOC NYC ’18: Quincy

A while back, I went to hear the great Harold Mabern at Smoke. As is sometimes the case, he was in the mood to talk, but this night his subject was Quincy Jones. Mabern was particularly delighted Jones had just been awarded a fresh honor (perhaps this was around the time of the Kennedy Center Honors, but it also cold have been a dozen awards since then). While going through a list of Jones’ accomplishments, Mabern stressed “and he did all his arrangements in ink! Do you know what that means?” I happened to say sotto voce: “no mistakes,” but it wasn’t sotto voce enough. Mabern’s jazz ears picked it up and he loved it. “That’s right, no mistakes,” he said with glee.

The whole point of this anecdote is to demonstrate how much fun it is to go to a Harold Mabern gig, because you never know what might happen. The corollary is if a musician of Mabern’s caliber thinks so highly of Jones, you’d damn well better show some respect too. If Mabern isn’t enough to convince you, we could have problems you and I, but perhaps Rashida Jones’ loving documentary profile of her father will do the trick. Co-directed by Alan Hicks, who helmed Keep On Keepin’ On, a chronicle of the final years of Jones’ longtime friend and band-mate Clark Terry, Jones’ simply-titled Quincy (trailer here),  screens as part of the “short list” section during this year’s DOC NYC.

In addition to Terry, Jones played with, arranged for, and/or produced just about all of the jazz greats, including Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie, Dinah Washington, Sarah Vaughan, Milt Jackson, Ella Fitzgerald, Ray Charles, and Count Basie. Jones had a particular knack for arranging for Basie and his big band, which caught the ear of Frank Sinatra. Arguably, Jones’ charts for Sinatra’s sessions with the Basie band really established the mature Sinatra sound that immediately comes to mind. Jones also gives Sinatra credit for essentially single-handedly reversing the backwards discriminatory policies of the major Vegas hotels.

You might be thinking, wasn’t there an earlier doc on Jones? Yes, there was and it was pretty good: Ellen Weissbrod’s Listen Up: The Lives of Quincy Jones. Both films do a solid job covering Jones’s classical studies in Paris with Nadia Boulanger, his film scores (In the Heat of the Night, The Pawnbroker, and The Deadly Affair still sound fantastic), his work producing Michael Jackson into the “King of Pop,” his growing interest in hip-hop, and his deeply problematic relationship with his mother.

Of course, there have been eighteen years since Weissbrod’s film, during which time Jones produced Fresh Prince and Mad TV. He also reached a whole new audience when his “Soul Bossa Nova” became the Austin Powers theme. Yet, filmmakers Jones & Hicks gloss over these years, largely presenting them as a blur of awards and concerts, punctuated by two of his more recent health scares. The film climaxes with the gala opening of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture, which Jones produced. Obviously, that was a big event, but they could have slipped in one of his appearances at the Jazz Foundation’s A Great Night in Harlem benefits, like the night in 2004 when Clark Terry presented him with an award for his philanthropic work.

Obviously, Rashida Jones had access most documentarians would kill for. She covers plenty of the “valleys,” including his mother’s mental health issues and his several divorces. However, it leaves Weissbrod in an awkward spot, since her film covered most of this material two decades earlier. It also lacks the drama of Hicks previous documentary, in which the ailing Terry tries to hold on long enough to see his final protégé, young, blind Justin Kauflin establish a toe-hold in the music business. Kauflin is also seen performing briefly in Quincy as an official “Quincy Jones Artist,” so we can at least rest easy on that score. It is a good film with good stuff in it, but the final twenty minutes could have been tightened up considerably. Recommended for fans of Jones and the dozens of legends he worked with, Quincy screens this Thursday (11/8) and Saturday during DOC NYC and currently streams on Netflix.

Tribeca ’14: Keep On Keepin’ On

Clark Terry’s distinctive personal sound has been justly hailed as the “happiest” in all jazzdom. Nobody could lift your spirits in live performance like he could, so it will be especially difficult for his fans to see Terry’s suffering the ravages of age and ill health. Yet, he doggedly continues to mentor his latest student, forging an unusually close relationship with blind Justin Kauflin. Alan Hicks follows four eventful years of their jazz lives in Keep On Keepin’ On, which screens during this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

Terry is the only musician to play in the Ellington, Basie, and Tonight Show bands. Thelonius Monk’s last real studio sideman gig was for Terry, one of the trumpeter and flugelhornist’s 905 documented recording sessions. If you didn’t know already, he is the real deal, but he has always been willing to take young musicians under his wing. However, Kauflin is more than just his latest pupil.

Born with degenerative vision that failed completely during his grade school years, Kauflin replaced his enthusiasm for sports with music. Despite his obvious talent, he suffers from confidence issues. Frustratingly, he just cannot seem to find sideman gigs, for conspicuously obvious reasons. Surely, Terry must know someone who can help, right? As a matter of fact, he once gave lessons to a young cat named Quincy Jones, who happens to be one of the producers of Keep On.

At times, Hicks’ intimate access to the two musicians feels like more of a curse than a blessing. He captures moments of pain and indignity that are uncomfortable to watch, but they accurately present the messiness of reality. For jazz fans, it is also bittersweet to see the late great Mulgrew Miller briefly appearing in an interview segment. On the flip side, it should be noted Quincy Jones looks eternally fab.

Frankly, it is important to accentuate the positive in Keep On. Perhaps providentially, one of Terry’s greatest hits was “Mumbles,” featuring his sly nonsensical blues vocalizing, considering his lessons now largely depend on his scatting chops. As bad as things get, Terry keeps plugging away with and on behalf of Kauflin, because you cannot keep a great man down.

Indeed, great is the right term. Jazz fans respect Bird and Dizzy, revere Duke and Armstrong, but its Clark Terry that we love. For years he would regularly headline one of the major New York clubs every other month or so, giving us a chance to recharge our spiritual batteries. It is hard to accept we probably will not be see lead that familiar quintet again (featuring David Glasser on alto, Don Friedman on piano, Marcus McLaurine on bass, and Sylvia Cuenca on drums), but that appears to be the case. If you missed them, you missed out.

Clearly, Hicks understands Terry’s musical significance and appreciates the dedication of his wife Gwen. Keep On is definitely a happy-sad kind of film, instilling optimism in the next generation, while paying tribute to those who came before them. You will probably need to listen to a good dose of Terry after viewing Keep On Keepin’ On to cheer yourself up, but it is still highly recommended for jazz fans when it screens again this Friday (4/25) during the 2014 Tribeca Film Festival.

Keeping the Music Healthy

When asked for advice from aspiring students of music, a good musician friend recommends plenty of sleep and a healthy diet. Having recently celebrated his 50th year in music, Quincy Jones clearly developed healthier habits than so many of his jazz colleagues we lost tragically early in their careers. Health and music took center stage last week when Jones was awarded the first annual Music For a Better Life Award from Health Corps®, the health education non-profit founded by Dr. Mehmet Oz (which employs several of my friends).

In your basic sheik lower Manhattan black-tie gala, many of the beautiful and glamorous from the sports and entertainment worlds came out to join Dr. Oz to pay tribute to Jones and Broadway legend Ben Vereen, including L.L. Cool J, who made the presentation to the Grammy winning producer and big band leader. It was an event that focused welcome attention on the relationship between music and health. Unfortunately, many musicians in need have been devastated by healthcare emergencies, but Jones is a member of the Advisory Committee of an organization dedicated to helping in such times of crisis.

Thankfully, the Jazz Foundation of America has been a life-line for jazz musicians in dire straits—artists without insurance or pensions, who were never properly compensated for their work. JFA has been there to forestall evictions and to provide emergency medical treatment. When Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans, their caseload went from the hundreds to the thousands, yet they worked tirelessly to bring emergency relief to the musicians carrying on the apostolic jazz tradition in the city where the music was born.

This Thursday at 8:00 PM, JFA holds their annual Great Night in Harlem concert uptown at the Apollo Theater. Featuring a diverse program of multi-genre artists, including Lou Reed, Dr. John, Irma Thomas, Henry Butler, and Gene Bertoncini, this year’s concert promises plenty of blues, broadly defined. Of course, the line-up is subject to change right until the final curtain falls, but JFA always delivers a show well-worth the price of admission.

Ticket information can be found at JFA’s website here. You can also send a donation to:

Jazz Foundation of America
322 W. 48th St., 6th Floor
New York, NY 10036

Photo released by HealthCorps®: LL Cool J presents the Music for a Better Life award to Quincy Jones at HealthCorps Green Garden Gala, Thursday, April 30, 2009. (Manhattan Society/Corrigan-Zief)

Jazz Score: TV Land

Although Hollywood never really embraced jazz, it did find its way into many film noir pictures, signifying the sultry dangers of the urban underworld. Not surprisingly then, it also underscored some late 1950’s television detective shows, samples of which are screening at the MoMA as part of the Jazz Score retrospective.

Probably the best known and most successful example of the jazz-scored television series was Peter Gunn (NBC 1958-1961). Featuring Henry Mancini themes performed by top West Coast jazz artists, Gunn (sample opening here) dedicated a relatively large portion of its brief twenty-four minutes to music. For instance, in “The Comic,” the episode MoMA selected, trumpeter Pete Candoli gets about a minute of screen time for a solo and a brief speaking part. In another episode, “Keep Smiling,” Shelley Manne and His Men, including Joe Gordon and Herb Geller, get about a minute and a half for a complete breakneck number. Also, Gunn’s girlfriend Edie Hart, played by Lola Albright, is frequently heard crooning at Mother’s nightclub.

Gunn’s plots were simple due to time constraints. They usually involved Gunn, played by the square-jawed Craig Stevens, getting knocked unconscious by accomplices of the criminal he was tailing, only to be saved at the last minute by Lt. Jacoby, whose officers followed him, hoping to be lead straight to the perp. However, the show had a very stylishly noir look, nicely directed, usually by either series creator Blake Edwards or veteran television director Boris Sagal.

Less successful, Johnny Staccato (NBC 1959-1960) is often considered an imitation of Gunn, but it had it moments. Starring John Cassavetes as the title character, a former jazz pianist turned P.I., Staccato might have been moodier than Gunn, but it had similar elements. In this case, the jazz influenced composer was Elmer Bernstein, and the setting was Waldo’s jazz club. West coast jazz artists were also frequently heard in the background, as in “The Naked Truth,” where the house band included Candoli again, with guitarist Barney Kessel, Shelley Manne on drums, and Red Norvo on vibes.

The real oddball in the Jazz Score program is Blues for Trumpet and Koto, a one-hour stand-alone television drama, starring Quincy Jones as himself and inexplicably featuring performances by Al Hirt and his Dixieland combo. Jones is preparing for a Japanese tour and essentially shanghais his old lovesick compatriot Peter Clay to write special arrangements for the event, including the title piece. There are some pretty swinging big band performances of standards like “Night in Tunisia” and Clay’s special composition, from what appears to be Nobuo Hara’s Sharps and Flats, augmented with some members of Q’s big band.

Unfortunately, the acting and story brought forth forgivably audible groans from the audience. Anthony George would have a long career in television on series like Dark Shadows (he also had a supporting role in Otto Preminger’s Where the Sidewalk Ends with Craig Stevens), but he is frankly terrible as Clay, and his vocal number, which was barely more than the Rex Harrison-style speaking on pitch, was a complete mistake. For his part, Jones appears to have come out of the Burt Reynolds show-the-audience-how-much-fun-you’re-having school of acting. Still, it is a true rarity with some appealing big band music that is unlikely to turn up on DVD or cable anytime soon.

Altogether, this Jazz Score program represents a decent selection of jazz television scoring. Probably, the most notable omission was Mr. Broadway (opening credits here), which featured some great Dave Brubeck themes, but also starred Stevens as Broadway press agent Mike Bell, so it might have seemed too similar to Gunn. Also, the short-lived car-racing series Straightaway, was all but unwatchable, but featured the music of Maynard Ferguson’s band at height of its power. Of what MoMA did program, Gunn and Staccato hold up reasonably well as noir entertainment, and the novelty of Koto is at least worth a look. They screen together again on Sunday.

Q50

50 Years in Music—Live at Montreux
By Quincy Jones & Friends
Eagle Eye Media

Lionel Hampton certainly had an eye for talent. The orchestra he took to Europe included a trumpet section of future jazz greats Clifford Brown, Art Farmer, and Quincy Jones. Of course, Jones would find his calling not as an instrumentalist, but as an arranger and composer. In 1996, having made his living in music for fifty years, Jones and Montreux impresario Clause Nobs put together 50 Years in Music, an all-star concert celebration now available on DVD.

Jones starts with his first feature in the Hampton band, “Kingfish,” as well as “Stockholm Sweetenin,” with the Clifford Brown solo orchestrated for the full band. While there are many big name soloists, Australian trumpeter James Morrison, relatively unheralded in the States, often takes solo honors, as on “Kingfish,” where he outshines smooth practitioner Gerald Albright.

Jones has always sailed between genres at will, and here he brings a diverse cast into a big band setting. While Albright takes a while to acclimate to this context, David Sanborn (a veteran of many CTI sessions early in his career) fares much better, to his credit. On the ballad “The Midnight Sun Will Never Set” his solo is warm and gentle, but not sappy.

As a producer, Jones has worked with hall of fame vocalists. Recent Grammy winner Patti Austin swings the band nicely on standards like “Perdido” and “Shiny Stockings.” Guests from the pop world have more mixed results. Mick Hucknall of Simply Red, looking tragically British at times, just can not get out of Ray Charles’ shadow on “In the Heat of the Night.”

Conversely, Chaka Khan (not surprisingly), sounds perfect on tunes like “Miss Celie’s Blues” and “Dirty Dozens,” both from The Color Purple. She also lends her voice to “Walking in Space,” an arrangement which actually inspires Albright’s best jazz solo of the night.

Without doubt, the most effective guest is Toots Thielemans, the jazz harmonica legend, who brings his haunting sound to Ivan Lins’ “Septembro” and “Grace Notes,” the theme Jones wrote for the 1984 Olympics (I’ll hold my peace on the 2008 Games). (The least effective is Phil Collins, who just does not cut it as a big band vocalist, despite his declared ambitions.)

50 Years has quite a bit loaded onto one disk. The concert clocks in just over two hours, and there is another ten minutes of Jones and Nobs interview segments from a masterclass. Throughout the concert, the big band, including Morrison and members of Northern Illinois Jazz Band do the master proud. Like Jones’ career, not every selection is perfect, but in its entirety, it is pretty impressive.

Q Too?

Next week I’ll be reviewing Quincy Jones celebrating fifty years in music at Montreux. How cool does that sound? However, one Quincy Jones gig that will not generate much eager anticipation will be the Beijing Olympics, for which he will serve as an “artistic advisor.” Steven Speilberg was recently shamed into bailing on Beijing over Darfur. Now what about Jones, his Color Purple collaborator?

Presumably he has not yet followed Spielberg’s lead. His myspace bio still proclaims:

“In October of 2006, the Beijing Organizing Committee for the Games of the XXIX Olympiad appointed Quincy Jones as the artistic advisor for opening and closing ceremonies of the Beijing 2008 Olympic Games.”

In May 2006, Jones sounded completely seduced by the Communist regime. Reuters quoted Jones praising china for: “the beautiful women—some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, whoah.” OK, fine, I agree, Chinese women are beautiful. Too bad there will not be anymore in the near future, thanks to the Communist government’s strict one child policy.

Mia Farrow deserves credit for embarrassing Spielberg into doing the right thing. Of course, she focused on their support for the Sudanese regime. DH makes the valid point that the Chinese government’s policies towards its own people ought to be troubling enough on their own. Tiananmen Square, Tibet, forced abortions, internet censorship, and toxic consumer exports ought to be enough for most people to want to steer clear of the regime.

Jones has created some great music, including “Grace Notes,” a theme composed for the 1984 Olympics gymnastics competition. Perhaps Jones wants to revisit past Olympic glory. Be that as it may, Jones would do more good by playing Montreux again in 2008 than associating with the Chinese regime.