Memorable Quote: Chick Corea

"He wouldn't specifically tell me to do anything, but he'd hint at it," Chick said, referring to Miles Davis. "He'd turn to me at certain parts and say, 'I like that.'"

- Chick Corea, to Gary Bartz & all those listening in from outside the dressing room door (including me) at the Blue Note earlier tonight, referring to the time that Miles Davis took him (Chick) to see Ahmad Jamal in concert.

Memorable Quote: Kareem Abdul Jabbar

"Chick was channeling some Red Garland tonight!"

- Basketball legend, Kareem Abdul Jabbar, excitedly walking into the dressing room at the Blue Note to greet Chick Corea earlier tonight.

Memorable Quotes: June - November, 2011

"About the cell phone thing: maybe turn the volume off, but keep the vibrate on. Especially you musicians; I don't want you to miss that big break." -Chick Corea, earlier tonight, on stage at the Blue Note Jazz Club.

McCoy Tyner to the sound guy at the Blue Note, during soundcheck one day after Gary Bartz remarked that the piano stool was low, which reminded him of Erroll Garner: "Got any telephone books?"

"He [the composer] must've been in love [when he wrote that]. Well...I guess that'll help you write good songs." -McCoy Tyner, to me, on the song, "I'll Take Romance."

"Don't...No...No...The best exercise you can get for your hands is practice; strengthen your fingers, not your hands; scales do more for you than weights." -McCoy Tyner, to me, on weightlifting as a pianist.

"That's why music is better than sex: it lasts." -Benny Green, relaying to the audience at the Blue Note some wise words that Ray Brown once told him.

"If you're a musician, don't forget to listen to the birds." -Randy Weston, at an interview at a Manhattan Barnes & Noble.

"'cause when I love my baby but my baby don't love me you can only say that with the blues." -Randy Weston, on why Jimmy Rushing said that the Blues is the greatest music.

"If you blow it, you blow it. Nobody dies, and then you learn something." -Fred Hersch, at a recent masterclass at NYU.

"I didn't go to church on Sundays; I went to the Vanguard." -Dee Dee Bridgewater, to me, on her apprenticeship with the Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Big Band.

Ray Brown Tribute Band

As an intern at the Blue Note Jazz Club, I recently had the honor of putting together the following video. It was such a thrill to interview some of my favorite musicians of all time - Dee Dee Bridgewater, Benny Green, Christian McBride, & Greg Hutchinson - on their mentor and a hero of mine, the legendary Ray Brown.

Hanging Out with Ron Carter

Earlier today, I was treated to quite a thrill. Currently interning at the Blue Note Jazz Club, I was in the office today when Jim Hall and Ron Carter were there doing their soundcheck.

As the soundcheck ended and Ron began to head upstairs to the dressing room, I asked him if he'd like any help. He obliged and handed me his bass case. "Be careful," he said. "It's heavy." It was.

After we got into the dressing room and finally figured out how to turn the lights on, Ron, smiling, cracked a joke. "I like those," he said, referring to the complicated light switch. "But only one of 'em," he said, laughing.

It was obvious that Ron was in a very good mood and I could also tell that he was enjoying my company. I seized the moment, taking that opportunity to grab a video camera in hopes of asking Ron a question or two (for the Blue Note blog, one of my job responsibilities).

I found Ron downstairs just to the right of the stage. With camera in hand, I asked if I could ask him one question about the Blue Note, for the club's 30th Anniversary. "Of course," he said. "Let's go up to the dressing room for this."

We got up to his dressing room and sat down in the room's comfortable chairs. I turned the camera on and asked him my Blue Note related question. My one promised question quickly turned into two and then three. His answers were very telling of the care with which he holds all of the musicians with whom he plays. Here's what he said when I asked him if there was any particular Blue Note performance that particularly stands out to him:

"Well, you know, to answer that question kind of implies that the others weren't so important, so I'm not gonna do that. (laughter). They're going to come knock on my door and say, 'Why you!'...And I never answer that kind of question because I don't want anyone who is not mentioned in my commentary to feel that their job wasn't important to me, or that I didn't have a good time, or that I didn't learn any music, or that I'm not looking forward to working with them again. And each group I've worked with here, I've always had a good time, and I've always learned some music, and I've always had the chance to look forward to working with them some more, and hopefully I've gotten better in the meantime, so I don't want them to feel that they're not on my list."

It was obvious that I was listening to a very caring, thoughtful, and articulate man speak.

I mentioned to him that I'm a pianist; that I study with Don Friedman. He began asking me about Don; how he's doing, what he's been up to, etc. I felt us getting into a friendly conversation, so I turned the camera off and sat back.

As Ron began telling me about recording with Don and Joe Henderson, I was reminded of a really wild band - a totally unknown one - that Don was once a part of and had told me about. I told Ron, very excitedly, about the vocalist' Dick Haymes' group which included Don, Scott Lafaro, and Elvin Jones.

Upon hearing this, Ron was shocked. "What!", he exlaimed. "Wow, they must've washed Haymes away."

I told him what Don had told me; that on a gig they played at the Village Gate, the IRS came out to get Haymes; he owed a million dollars in taxes. Ron was certainly shocked. "One million dollars," he said. "In the sixties...Damn, in the '60's one-million dollars really was one-million dollars."

I mentioned that I hadn't realized that Dick Haymes' brother was Bob Haymes.

"Who's that?", asked Ron.

"He wrote 'That's All.'"

"Wow," said Ron. "I didn't realize that."

I told Ron that Haymes had also written one of my favorite songs, a song that isn't very well known, but a song that Blossom Dearie did amazingly, "They Say It's Spring."

As soon as I mentioned Blossom Dearie's name, Ron's face lit up. "I know that song," he said, smiling.

He began telling me how much he loved Blossom Dearie's piano playing. He said that he really admired the way she played chords; that she was really a master of voicings, and that she always played the perfect chord for each moment, always with the right note on top. He told me that he really had a lot that he had wanted to learn from her. "When I played with her, I knew the right bass notes and passing tones to play below her but I wanted to sit down at the piano with her and learn about the full chords from her." He said that the two always talked about getting together for this lesson of sorts, but for one reason or another, it never happened. "Regrettably," said Ron.

I told him how I love her repertoire; how she's really introduced me to so many beautiful songs that I never would have heard otherwise. He agreed. "She had a way with songs that were very rare that people didn't really know, but she would interpret them in a way that would make people want to know them, and she'd make them popular before they were popular...She was singing 'Peel Me A Grape' long before it was famous."

I smiled, saying how I also loved her arrangements; how she'd slow down songs - like "Tea For Two" and "Surrey With A Fringe On Top" - that were normally played fast. He smiled too, and during mid-laugh, began to sing - just a few bars - raising his voice to a high squeal, doing his best Blossom Dearie impersonation.

It was really a thrill to talk with Ron Carter about one of my all-time favorite musicians, Blossom Dearie. It was also extremely surprising and validating (in a way) to hear him speak of her piano mastery and his love for her music and her piano playing. Ron is always associated with Herbie Hancock, a pianist who is often considered the ultimate harmonic master, and it was very exciting to hear his excitement about the playing and music of Blossom Dearie.

One thing that really shocked me during our conversation was how comfortable Ron made me feel throughout, and how genuinely interested he seemed in what I had to say, too. Looking back on it, it really felt like nothing more than two huge jazz fans having a friendly conversation about the music we both love.

I told him how I recently played with Houston Person and how his sound just knocked me out; how, while on stage listening, I got the chills and I realized that I'd never really heard that sound on the saxophone before in real life; no one really plays like that anymore.

Ron understood, seemingly shocked at that reality. He began to reminisce on that specific tenor sound..."One of my first sessions was with Coleman Hawkins, Tommy Flanagan...and Eddie Locke or someone like that. I think it was called Hawk's Groove...or something like that." He said it quickly, casually, in passing, before asking the question that mattered most to him: "Do you ever listen to Don Byas?"

"Oh yes," I answered. We began to speak about the Town Hall duo recordings of Don Byas and Slam Steward. Ron loves those recordings. He then asked about Gene Ammons, and expressed to me his love for that sound, the sound of the "Texas Tenors," quickly mentioning Frank Wess as another player that he loved.

I told him that one of my favorite recordings is the Coleman Hawkins/Red Garland album. He smiled. I also expressed my love for his album with Red Garland. "Oh yeah," he said. And then, so cool and casually, said: " That was with Philly Joe, too."

Our conversation kept on for a while. Ron was really at ease and seemed to be enjoying our conversation. He seemed especially grateful when, later that day, I brought him a copy of a Blossom Dearie piano-only record that he hadn't heard before. I apologized for my bad handwriting. "It's not bad," he said, laughing. "Don't worry. I've seen much worse."

As I was leaving the room, Ron said to me: "It was great talking with you. That was a bit more than one question, but I was prepared for it. I really enjoyed it."

I've heard stories about Ron being a tough guy, a difficult interview, and I've also heard some near-horror stories about some people's approaching him. To me, I sat in awe as I fathomed how those stories could be possible. That day, I was in the presence of a real sweetheart, someone who loves to smile and laugh and share his experiences. More than anything though, I felt that I was in the presence of an extremely inspiring jazz fan, someone who gets just as excited about jazz and specific musicians as he did when he was only a kid; the only difference is that this enthusiastic fan just happens to be the great Ron Carter, too.

Here's a video of a portion of the interview:

Monty Alexander

As I’ve mentioned in earlier blog posts, one of the more recent highlights of being a student at New York University has been a Friday afternoon interview series at a local Barnes & Noble between Dr. David Schroeder, NYU’s Director of Jazz Studies, and various jazz legends.

He’s interviewed many musicians who I admire and can relate to in some way, but for the most part, the stories of those being interviewed are very different than my story, and they are life stories that, given the time and place of my birth, are absolutely impossible to have happened to me. While that is also so with the story of the great pianist Monty Alexander – who Dr. Schroeder interviewed this past Friday - there was something about his story, what initially drew him to the music, and what continues to inspire him today that struck a deep chord with me.

While many of the jazz greats that I’ve heard speak live often talk of how their lives changed drastically from the minute they heard John Coltrane (something I can’t relate to), Alexander said that one of his first powerful musical memories was the contagious smile and happiness he felt when listening to Nat King Cole sing.

There was something I could relate to.

He went on and on; speaking about pianists Erroll Garner and Nat Cole (noting how Nat is certainly one of the most underrated pianists of all time, as his influence on great pianists such as Ahmad Jamal is extremely evident, which is something I’ve been thinking about for a while now). However, more than anything he could’ve said about their musical technique, he spoke about the way in which they performed, and how it impressed him so. He said that Nat would sit at the piano and play, but he’d have his legs facing toward to the audience; really playing for them.

He spoke of the joy he felt when he listened to Erroll Garner, and Milt Buckner, and Eddie Heywood.

“Did he just say Eddie Heywood?!” I had to do a double take! One of my favorite pianists of all, Heywood was a truly beautiful player, a master of touch and taste, and also one of the great masters of playing melodies.

As Alexander went on to talk about what he loved about Heywood’s playing, (“His playing was perfectly economical,” he said.) I began to feel like I was listening to myself talk. I sat in awe listening to how the exact same musicians had affected each of us in the exact same way at the exact same time in our lives.

I loved how he would say often that the things he most loved about certain musicians was that they made him feel good, or that simply, they made him smile.

Often, musicians, when asked the same question, go on about one’s technical mastery of the instrument, or things very specific, musically, that they admire. To me, it’s always been about making me smile and feeling good on the inside. It was truly a thrill to hear this simple, truthful answer come from this master. In some ways, it made me feel that my ideas and thoughts, similar to his, were finally validated.

He went on to explain that he wasn't attracted to the dissonances created by the music of John Coltrane and Ornette Coleman and more free jazz (although he loved to listen to it and was in awe of it!...He just didn't want to play it). His musical goal has always been to honor the melody and play with and around the melody in the most beautiful way possible. Another sigh of relief.

It was very validating to hear Monty Alexander express my feelings towards music as his. To hear these things, things that have often made me feel more isolated than closer to my peers, was exciting to hear because it made me realize that, "Hey! There are people thinking like me!" Plus, he's been thinking this way since the 1950's and it's worked pretty well for him, too!

Besides this extremely validating and inspiring insight into the thought process of Monty Alexander, he, too, like his heroes Nat Cole, Louis Armstrong, and Erroll Garner, is a fantastic entertainer. The stories he told left the audience jaw-dropped in amazement.

He spoke of a gig one night, where he was playing solo piano, and there sitting in front of him at a table were Frank Sinatra and Miles Davis, deep in discussion.

He spoke of hanging out with Miles at his house. He said that Miles constantly listened to Sinatra, especially when learning a ballad. "Miles played Sinatra around the house," Alexander said. "I was there."

He spoke of Jimmy Smith and Richard "Groove" Holmes, and the hardships of lugging around big organs. He said that both organists bought old Hearst cars and drove to every gig with the organ in the back.

He also mentioned a conversation he had had with bassist Bob Cranshaw just after Cranshaw recorded the now legendary Lee Morgan tune, "The Sidewinder." He said that during the session Morgan was trying to get pianist Barry Harris to play the classic bluesy figure that makes up the melody, and Harris refused. "I won't play it," he said. "That's Rock N' Roll!"

It was a truly exciting and inspiring hour, and I feel honored to have been present.

Memorable Quote: Sonny Rollins

"There's nothing to worry about. You have nothing to fear. If you can look the man in the mirror in the face, then everything's going to be OK. I'm not afraid of anything."

I wasn't at this show, but I read online that this is how Sonny Rollins ended his concert last week at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center.