Darkness, Darkness Soundtrack

Anyone who saw the recent production of Darkness, Darkness at Nottingham Playhouse will have been aware of the importance of music and sound in the creation of mood and the reinforcement of meaning. The soundscape – incorporating, in addition to  everything from police sirens and gun shots to the chants of Notts County supporters and striking miners, no less than 23 pieces of music – was created by sound designer, Drew Baumohl, working closely with other members of the design team, including filmmaker and video artist, Will Simpson, who was responsible for the projection design.

The initial idea of using the noirish slowcore music of the German band, Bohren & Der Club of Gore and the ambient post rock of the Canadian Godspeed You! Black Emperor to provide the atmospheric interludes and backgrounds, came from the show’s director, Jack McNamara, while the more obviously jazzy selections were mine. I think they work well together.

Here, for anyone wishing to follow up, is a listing of the music used …

Bohren & Der Club of Gore

  • Midnight Black Earth
  • Vigilante Crusader
  • The Art of Coffins
  • Grave Wisdom
  • Maximum Black
  • Skeletal Remains: all from the album, Black Earth
  • Cairo Keller: from Gore Motel
  • Im Raunch
  • Fahr Zur Hollie : from Piano Nights
  • Staub: from Dolores

Godspeed You! Black Emperor

  • Moya: from Slow Riot for New Zero Kanada
  • Asunder, Sweet: from Asunder, Sweet & Other Distress

Thelonious Monk

  •  (I Don’t Stand) A Ghost of a Chance With You: from Thelonious Himself (1957)
  • These Foolish Things: from Thelonious Monk Trio (1954)

Billie Holiday

  • These Foolish Things: from The Quintessential Billie Holiday, Vol 2 (1936)
  • For All We Know: from Lady in Satin (1958)

Joe Temperley

  • I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart: from Easy to Remember (2001)

Coleman Hawkins

  • One Note Samba: from Desafinado (1963)

Pablo Casals

  • Suite No. 1 in G Major, Prelude
  • Suite No. 1 in G Major, Allemande: from Bach Cello Suites (1939)

Cyprien Katsaris

  • Waltz No. 10 in B minor, Op. 69. No. 2: from Chopin-Waltzes

Human League

  • Together in Dreams

Frankie Goes to Hollywood

  • Two Tribes

 

 

 

Advertisements

Jumpin’ with Jazz Steps: Blue Territory Returns!

cropped-lowdham-2.jpg

October looks as if it’s going to be a busy month, one way or another, with most of my activities – just for a change – centred around Nottingham. Darkness, Darkness is at  Nottingham Playhouse for the first two weeks of the month, and, during the second of those weeks, the band, Blue Territory, [that’s us in action, above] and I will be repeating out previously successful mini-tour of Nottinghamshire libraries [No band bus, no Smarties in the Green Room, and positively no groupies] following the estimable Dave O’Higgins to  Worksop, Southwell and West Bridgford.

Along with some of the familiar pieces about Chet Baker, Thelonious Monk and Charlie Parker, we’ve been working on some new material, including a small tribute to Jack Kerouac, whose poetry and jazz readings with the likes of Al Cohn and Zoot Sims in the 1950s lay at the heart of much that we do.

jazz steps

 

 

Resnick & All That Jazz

 

Jazz Radio

Not so long ago, my daughter and I spent a fascinating hour listening to a programme on the Danish internet radio station, Radio Jazz, enjoying the music but otherwise barely understanding a word, save for the occasional name in English – Chet Baker, Charlie Parker, Charlie Resnick, John Harvey. The broadcast was based around an article by Age Hedley Petersen, Jazz i crime literature – Resnick, and All That Jazz, which was published in the April/May/June issue of the Danish magazine, Jazz Special. In the article, Petersen, a retired music librarian from Fredensborg Bibliotek, traces in some detail the influence and importance of jazz in the Resnick novels and on Resnick’s character, drawing links also with other crime writers, such as Michael Connelly and Bill Moody, for whom jazz is important, even vital.

What follows is a slightly shortened version of the original article in a translation largely by Petersen himself.

Jazz in Crime Literature – Resnick and All That Jazz.

It is always exciting when more than one of your interests are treated simultaneously in what you are reading! I am an incarnate crime reader – not so much of “who-done-its”, but more the ramifications of the American school, Chandler, McBain and others. The authors should also have some opinions on society; and personal portrayal must outweigh the normal stereotypes. Such persons could also often be interested in music, which immediately gives reading a new dimension.

Colin Dexter’s Morse worships opera – and that does not interest me so much. Ian Rankin’s John Rebus listens to a wide variety of rock – and that sounds a lot better to my ears; but when the protagonists wholeheartedly worship jazz and even use themes from the history of jazz in the intrigues, it becomes really exciting.

Six months ago I started to read Michael Connelly’s The Drop from 2014 in which Harry Bosch is investigating the death of a man who has fallen (jumped? pushed?) from a high balcony. This made me think of the late Chet Baker and his tragic death in Amsterdam in 1988. And indeed, home from a long day at the job Bosch is greeted by his daughter who asks him about a poem that sits, framed, in the hallway of his apartment. The poem, titled Chet Baker, was written, he tells her, by the English poet, John Harvey, whom he heard read it in a restaurant in Venice Beach.

Chet Baker

looks out from his hotel room
across the Amstel to the girl
cycling by the canal who lifts
her hand and waves and when
she smiles he is back in times
when every Hollywood producer
wanted to turn his life
into that bitter-sweet story
where he falls badly, but only
in love with Pier Angeli,
Carol Lynley, Natalie Wood;
that day he strolled into the studio,
fall of fifty-two, and played
those perfect lines across
the chords of My Funny Valentine,
and now, when he looks up from
his window and her passing smile
into the blue of a perfect sky,
he knows this is one of those
rare days when he can truly fly.

John Harvey! I was startled at Connelly using one of my other favorite authors, John Harvey, as a person in a novel; was it the same John Harvey, whose protagonist through 12 novels, Charlie Resnick, is an out-and-out jazz aficionado? I decided to email Harvey to satisfy my curiosity, and less than an hour later I received the following response:

Hello! And thanks for getting in touch with your query. The incident in the book is based on an actual occasion; Mike came to hear me reading at a bookshop on Venice Beach, LA – oh, it must be a good 15 years ago now – heard me read the poem, which at that time had not been published, asked how / where he could get a copy, and I happily gave him the sheet of paper I’d been reading from. I doubt if he actually kept the paper, though, or has it framed on his wall!

Of course, Mike contacted me before the book went to press and asked my permission, which I was only too happy to give.

Incidentally, the poem appears in another crime novel by Bill Moody, Looking for Chet Baker, where it is used as a forward to the story. You might like to track down the novel, as it does provide a fictional answer to the riddle surrounding Baker’s death.

The Chet Baker poem is published in Out of Silence, my New & Selected Poems, published by Smith / Doorstop last year. [ Poems also on Roland Kirk, Art Pepper, Thelonious Monk Parker and Lester Young!]”

 I immediately wrote back that I was pretty interested in acquiring the collection, and a few days later I received the following message:

—Book, signed, on its way in the next couple of days. For payment, would you be happy to send a donation the equivalent of £10 sterling to Médecins Sans Frontières? It’s easily done via their web site.

Best wishes, John

This story gave me the urge to reread the novels about the jazz-loving cop Charlie Resnick from Nottingham, and I have “borrowed” a few quotes to prove my points:

The first time the jazz theme is used is in Lonely Hearts (p. 17, Arrow), when Resnick is inspecting a crime scene and …

There were several posters on the walls, clip-framed; from one Monroe looked out, slump-backed on a stool, black clothes, white face. Resnick glanced into her empty eyes and turned away. Words from a song of Billie Holiday nudged away at his mind, images of winter through the slight distortion of glass.

Then, at the beginning of the next chapter (p. 24, Arrow) Resnick is sitting with one of the cats on his lap and listening to music while he eats … (After his wife left him, Resnick acquired four cats and gave them the names Bud, Miles, Pepper and Dizzy; the cats appear in all volumes, except the last where there is only Dizzy)

Billie Holiday and Lester Young were doing it through the headphones, making love to music without ever holding hands.

A short but striking interpretation of what it is all about between those two. In a later book, Cold Light (p. 60, Arrow) it’s again about Billie:

For Christmas, Resnick bought himself [whoever buy Christmas presents for themselves !?] The Complete Billie Holiday on Verve, a new edition of Dizzy Gillespie’s autobiography and The Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD, LP and Cassette. What he still had to acquire was a CD player.

It takes a while before he purchases the player! Not until two volumes later in Easy Meat (p. 59, Arrow) do we read:

As he ate it he stared across the room at his new acquisition, a brand-new CD player to complement his stereo; his nightly project, working through the tracks of the ten-disc Billie Holiday set he bought himself the Christmas before last.

All through the 12 volumes, jazz is deliberately used to describe the mood Resnick is in. For example, in Cold Light (p. 118, Arrow) …

 There were times, Resnick knew, what you didn’t do was play Billie Holiday singing “Our Love is Here to Stay”; when it was self-pitying, not to say foolish, to listen to her jaunty meander through “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” because it felt as if they already had. What was okay was listening to Ben Webster wailing through “Cottontail”, the version with Oscar Peterson kicking out on the piano; Jimmy Witherspoon reassuring the audience at the Monterey Jazz Festival “Tain’t Nobody’s Business What I Do”. Or what he set to play now, Barney Kessell’s “to swing or not to swing’ with its lower case title and definitions on the cover. The tracks he liked best were uptempo, carefree, Georgie Auld sitting in on tenor, “Moten Swing”, “Indiana”.

 By the way, Resnick is already listening to Webster’s solo on Cottontail – this time from Ellington album Jack the Bear – in Cutting Edge (p. 59, Arrow):

 Ben Webster was just beginning his solo on “Cottontail”, rolling that phrase over the rhythm section, springy and strong from Blanton’s bass, round and round and rich, like rolling it round a barrel of treacle. Just when it seemed to have become stuck, sharp little phrases from the brass digging it out, and then the saxophone lifting itself with more and more urgency, up, up and into the next chorus.

Lester Young is obviously one of his great heroes. In Still Water (p.136, Arrow) Resnick has returned home again after a long day “at the office” and…

 … the room was overlarge, heavy, almost unwelcoming. When he sat, his eyes were drawn to the Herman Leonard photograph of Lester Young framed on the wall; Lester looking tired, older than his forty-something years, either he had grown out of his suit, or his suit had grown out of him.

When, not so very much later, Resnick went up to bed, he left the stereo playing, Lester in his youth and glory, the sound of his saxophone , light and sinuously rhythmic, tracing him up the stairs” “I Never Knew”, “If Dreams Came True”, “I’ve Found a New Baby”, “The World is Mad” parts one and two.

 In the first books, with a few exceptions, it is thus mostly the big swing names Resnick listens to; but later he expands the repertoire with bebop and Thelonious Monk becomes the big favorite: Easy Meat (p. 124, Arrow) …

It was a bad sign, Resnick knew, when he played Monk last thing at night, the pianist’s fractured attempts at melody obeying no logic but their own. A big man, as Resnick was big, Monk’s fingers stabbed down at single notes, crushed chords into the beauty of an abstract painting, twisted scaffolding seen in a certain light.

It is so precise a description of Monk’s playing, that it is enough to listen with one’s inner ear to understand!

In the “swan song”, Darkness, Darkness – according to the author the final novel about Charlie Resnick and unfortunately not yet translated into Danish – Resnick comes home deeply affected by a personal tragedy that should not be divulged here (p. 77, Heinemann):

—Inside, he shrugged off his coat, walked the house from room to room. Made coffee and left it untouched. Finally, in the living room, he burrowed through the shelves of albums and CDs, searching, not for something calming, consoling, nothing that might trigger a memory, happy or sad, but this: the Eric Dolphy / Booker Little Quintet: Live at the Five Spot, New York, 16. July 1961. Track three: “Aggression”. 16 minutes and 40 seconds.

Resnick even attends concerts on rare occasions. In Darkness, Darkness, for instance, he mentions a trip he made in his youth, in 1969, from Nottingham to Manchester’s Free Trade Hall to listen to Duke Ellington’s orchestra, and he can still accurately remember the orchestra’s personnel. And the novel Still Water (pp.1 & 2, Arrow) begins with the following:

It was the night Milt Jackson came to town: Milt Jackson, who for more than twenty years had been a member of one of the most famous jazz groups in the world, the Modern Jazz Quartet; who had gone into the studio, Christmas Eve, 1954, and along with Miles Davis and Thelonious Monk, recorded one of Resnick’s all-time favourite pieces, “Bag’s Groove”.

Milt Jackson had formed a new quartet and Resnick has cleared his calendar. But unfortunately Resnick’s pager starts bleeping as soon as Milt Jackson raises his felt mallet to start playing:

And there is a moment, Resnick bulkily rising from his seat near the centre of rwo four and fumbling inside his coat as he excuses himself, embrarrassed, past people’s knees, in which Jackson, expression shifting between annoyance and amusement, catches Resnick’s eye and grins.

In Living Proof (pp. 270-271, Arrow) Resnick plans to go to the Old Vic in Nottingham to listen to the new Stan Tracey Duo, but after dinner decides he does not want to go anywhere. Later in the evening he regrets his decision, however, and changes his mind.

He arrived at the pub in time for the last two numbers, Stan Tracey, hunched over the keyboard, angularly manoeuvring his way through “Sophisticated Lady”, taking the tune into seemingly impossible blind alleys ad then escaping through a mixture of finesse and sheer power. Finally, Tracey and an absurdly young-looking Gerard Presencer on trumpet had elided their way along a John Coltrane blues, the audacity of Presencer’s imagination more than matched by his technique.

Yes, “our” Gerard Presencer, who at that time would have been about 20 years old and a star in the making. The two numbers Resnick was in time for – Coltrane’s “Some Other Blues” with piano and trumpet, and Ellington’s “Sophisticated Lady” for solo piano, can be heard on the truly breathtaking CD: Stan Tracey: Live at the QEH (EMI, 1994)

In Still Water (p. 97, Arrow) Resnick visits London in connection with a case of art fraud; and one evening he visits the jazz club, The Rhythmic, that has a guest from the US – Coltrane-inspired pianist Jessica Williams.

 Tall, red-haired, and wearing a long, loose flowing dress, she sat at the piano and for a moment fidgeted with the height of the stool. Even before she began playing, fingers hesitating above the keys, Resnick had noticed the size of her hands. Then, without introduction, she launched into “I Should Care”. Almost deferentially at first, brushing the tune around the edges, feeling her way freshly into a melody she must have played – and Resnick heard – a hundred times. Ten minutes later, when she had exhausted every variation, left hand rocking through a stride pattern that would have made James P. Johnson or Fats Waller beam with pleasure, she finished to a roar of disbelieving applause.

By the time he walked back out into the London night some hours later, he knew he had been in the presence of something – someone – special.

Finally, to return to Bill Moody, whom Harvey mentioned in his original answer to my inquiry, and who is mentioned in Harvey’s 2006 novel, Cold in Hand (p. 70, Arrow).

Resnick listened to some more music, reading for the second time a book by Bill Moody about Chet Baker, while Lynn took a bath.

Later, in the same novel, when a colleague visits Resnick’s house and studies his bookshelves, she finds Moody’s novel there in the company of another Moody novel, The Sound of the Trumpet, Art Pepper’s autobiography, co-written with his wife, Laurie, Straight Life, and a biography of Thelonious Monk.

Bill Moody is a writer and jazz drummer residing in California, who has played with, among others, Maynard Ferguson and Lou Rawls. His novel Looking for Chet Baker, released in 2002, is the fifth of six novels about jazz pianist and amateur detective Evan Horne (none of them, sadly, translated into Danish). In the novel, Horne goes to Amsterdam to play a concert with tenor saxophonist Fletcher Paige and while he is there he is asked by a friend to do some research into Chet Baker’s death. The novel is definitely worth reading. Here in Moody’s novels, jazz is actually the main theme!

Thus, we see that the mystery surrounding Chet Baker’s death traces through the works of at least three authors – Connelly, Harvey and Moody; and the comparison with the Danish poet Michael Strunge’s death two years earlier is obvious. At the memorial plaque at the entrance to Webersgade 17 in Copenhagen his last words are inculcated: “Now I can fly”.

Bibliographical notes:

At the end of the 10th volume in the Resnick series, Last Rites (p.355, Arrow) , which, at the time, was thought to be the last Resnick novel, there is a coda in which Harvey clarifies his sources of inspiration, and it ends with:

The odd sandwich aside, I think it was jazz that kept Charlie sane, that provided him with both release and inspiration. Me, too. In the writing of these books I have relied, again and again, on the music of Duke Ellington, Billie Holiday, Thelonious Monk, Spike Robinson, Ben Webster with Art Tatum, and Lester Young. Let it live on.

In 2009 Harvey published the collection Minor Key (Five Leaves Press, Nottingham) – in 500 copies, numbered and signed, the royalties going to charity. The book opens with the essay, Resnick, Nottingham, and All That Jazz, a greatly extended coda in which Harvey sets out his approach to jazz, which began with a schoolmate’s uncle’s collection of 78’s by names like Ellington, Earl Bostic, Louis Jordan and Billie Holiday.It also contains five short stories including four with Resnick as the protagonist, and six poems-among others, “Chet Baker” and “Art Pepper”.

Harvey’s and Connelly’s novels in Danish are best found at the website: bibliografi.dk and can be borrowed via the danish public libraries. This also applies to the non-translated 12th volume of the Resnick series: Darkness, Darkness (London, Heinemann, 2014). John Harvey can be followed on the website http://www.mellotone.co.uk and his blog “Some days you do …” which has a link to his “Ten records for a Desert Island”, number one of which is Thelonious Monk Plays Duke Ellington.

John Harvey: Minor Key, Nottingham, Five Leaves, 2009.
John Harvey: Out of Silence, New & Selected Poems, Sheffield, Smith / Doorstop Books, 2014.
Bill Moody: Looking for Chet Baker, New York, Walker & Company, 2002.

Jazz Colour p2

Needless to say, I’m extremely grateful to Age Hedley Petersen for all of the research and enthusiasm that went into his essay, just as I am to Jazz Special for publishing it so beautifully, with wonderful illustrations by Agnete Morell, and to Radio Jazz for affording Charlie an hour of air time.

Thank you, Denmark! I can’t see – or hear – it happening here.

iPod Shuffle, April 2016

  1. Easter Parade : Jessica Williams
  2. My One & Only Love : John Coltrane & Johnny Hartman
  3. Beautiful Love : Anita O’Day
  4. Sunny Afternoon : The Kinks
  5. Blueprint Man : Liz Simcock
  6. Morning Song for Sally : Nanci Griffith
  7. Lights of Laramie : Ian Tyson
  8. Old Man : Neil Young
  9. Under a Blanket of Blue : Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong
  10. Frost & Fire : Everything But The Girl
  11. Worried Life Blues : Johnny Shines
  12. Joe Turner Blues : Mississippi John Hurt

Jessica Williams’ take on Easter Parade lifts it a long way from memories of Fred Astaire and Judy Garland and no small blessing in that. I’ve always enjoyed the way she takes tunes and gives them a good old shake up and runaround before easing them down and leaving them relatively unscarred. She usually includes a couple of Monk compositions in any set and makes as good use of them as most. I’ve seen her perform live twice, once at the Purcell Room on the South Bank in London, and once at a free gig in a park in Sacramento. Ace, both times.

Johnny Hartman is a singer I’d never really listened to until his voice was featured prominently in Eastwood’s The Bridges of Madison County [and what a good and under-rated film that is] but after that I sought him out and found at least two fine albums, one with Coltrane and one with the trumpeter, Howard McGhee. Anita O’Day, on the other hand, has always been a favourite, and this track comes from her 1955 album, Anita – one of the first 12″ LPs I owned – with, if my memory serves, Barney Kessel’s guitar on some tracks and a ‘choir’ of four trombones on others.

61Vknas-g1L._SS280

Blueprint Man comes from singer/songwriter Liz Simcock’s 2008 album Beachcomber and finds Liz is nicely ironic mood in a song and arrangement (nice banjo! not something I say often) that bring to mind some of the late Dory Previn’s work, pieces like A Stone for Bessie Smith and Mary C. Brown and the Hollywood Sign. Tough whether Liz knows Previn’s work at all I’ve no idea.

Incidentally, if you’re within reach of the Poetry Café in London’s Covent Garden on Friday evening, April 22nd, you can hear Liz playing a couple of sets either side of poetry readings by Danielle Hope and myself.

https://fourthfriday.wordpress.com

iPod Shuffle, March 2016

Okay, on this blisteringly cold but sunny morning on Hampstead Heath, this is what my iPod delivered.

  1. I Want You : Bob Dylan from Blonde on Blonde
  2. Do Nothing Till You Hear From Me : Mose Allison from M0se Allison Sings & Plays
  3. You’re Gonna Quit Me : Bob Dylan from Good As I Been to You
  4. Cold Hearts/Closed Minds : Nanci Griffith from Lone Star State of Mind
  5. Hospital Food : Eels from Electro-Shock Blues
  6. I’m Old Fashioned : Ella Fitzgerald from Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Jerome Kern Songbook
  7. Blues for Humph : Humphrey Lyttelton Band with Pat Halcox from Remembering Pat Halcox
  8. Baby Sister Blues : Johnny Shines from Standing at the Crossroads
  9. Dancing Dave : Henry Allen & His Orchestra from Swing Out
  10. Trinkle Tinkle : Thelonious Monk from Thelonious Monk Trio
  11. Reputation : Dusty Springfield from Goin’ Back
  12. Goodbye : Art Pepper from Unreleased Art Vol. III

The first track here is one of a very few I can remember hearing for the very first time – the place and the occasion, if not the precise date. The late 60s it would have been, several years after the album was first released, and I’d driven a minibus full of secondary school students up to London from Andover, where I was teaching, to the Roundhouse to see Nicol Williamson’s Hamlet, with Marianne Faithful as Ophelia. I’d promised the students that we would stop off, briefly, in Carnaby Street on the way home. And when I stepped into one of the then highly fashionable clothing stores they were playing I Want You at full, glorious volume. Why had I never heard it till then?

What else is especially interesting here? The Lyttelton track is a curiosity, Humph being laid low with some ailment or other and unable to make to trip to Prague and Pat Halcox, long time trumpeter with the Chris Barber Band, stepping in. It’s a longish track, recorded live, and, in addition to Halcox’s strong lead, features Malcolm Everson on baritone sax.

Johnny Shines has been one of my favourite blues singers ever since hearing the recordings he made for J.O.B. in 1953, his voice strongly reminiscent of Howling Wolf, his bottleneck guitar playing recalling his other main influence, Robert Johnson. After these recordings, he more or less gave up music, working in construction until, like many others, he was rediscovered in the blues revival of the mid-sixties, and began recording again, this time in a more contemporary Chicago style, working with musicians like Otis Spann and Big Walter Horton. This particular track comes from 1970 and finds him returning to the solo acoustic rural blues style of his earlier days.

And then, of course, there’s Dusty … sitting, perhaps incongruously, next to Art Pepper –but perhaps not. Two artists, two of many, whose particular demons laid them low too often, too soon.

Le Playlist de Jazz

For its summer issue, the French jazz magazine, Le JazzoPhone, asked me to choose my ten Desert Island jazz recordings, the ones I play most and would not like to live without. Here they are (with a little cheating around No 7) …

MI0003518853

1.Thelonious Monk Plays Duke Ellington

2. Art Tatum-Ben Webster : Art Tatum Masterpieces, Vol 8

3. Roland Kirk : We Free Kings

4. Art Pepper Meets the Rhythm Section

5. Count Basie : The Atomic Mr Basie

6. Serge Chaloff : Blue Serge

5175tSYmROL._SX425_

 

7. Billie Holiday : The Quintessential Billie Holiday, Vols 1 – 9

8. Duke Ellington : Highlights of the Great 1940-1942 Band

9. John Lewis : Improvised Meditations & Excursions

10. Joe Temperley : Double Duke

MI0002444255

 

Albert Irvin 1922 – 2015

8024367_orig

It’s a testimony to my own ignorance that I hadn’t heard of Bert Irvin until, some dozen or more years ago, already in the later years of his life, he was a guest on Michael Berkeley’s Private Passions on Radio 3. What struck me immediately was the generous and cant-free way in which he talked about art, his unforced and clearly genuine enthusiasm for both painting and music, Shostakovich and Thelonious Monk as much an inspiration as Pollock and deKooning.

4380

It so happened that not long after hearing the programme I mentioned Irvin to the writer and sometime artist Trevor Preston, who, it turned out, not only knew him quite well but could furnish me with an address. I duly contacted Irvin, and, as a result, was invited to the opening of an exhibition of new work at his London gallery, Gimpel Fils, where we met and talked. Thereafter, we remained in touch, largely by virtue of an exchange of cards at Christmas – his, each year, a stunning print in his recognisably vibrant style.

images-1

Trained at Northampton School of Art and at Goldsmiths in south-east London, where he was later to teach, Irvin was an RAF navigator during WW2, the experience of flying one he shared with the Cornish artist Peter Lanyon. to whose work he felt close,  and which may well have influenced – as it did Lanyon – the form and shape of his earlier abstract paintings.

images-3

Although he had his first solo exhibitions in 1960, it wasn’t until the 1980s that Irvin’s work began to be more widely known and displayed, corresponding with a move from painting in oils to acrylics and the bolder and more vibrant use of colour that distinguished his later style; this period also saw the beginning of his relationship as a screenprinter with the Advanced Graphics studio in London which endured in the most positive manner until his death. A true formidable artist and a lovely man, it it was an honour for me to have known him to the small degree that I did.

images

 

 

 

 

 

Clark Terry – Mortal No More

One of the best known recording sessions the trumpeter Clark Terry participated in during his long career took place on Wednesday, 24th April, 1957, the fourth of five days the Duke Ellington orchestra spent laying down the tracks for Such Sweet Thunder, the Duke’s take on various and sundry Shakespearean characters. First up that day was “Up and Down, Up and Down (I Will Lead Them Up and Down)”, in which Terry was called upon to personify the elusive Puck, leading mere mortals a merry dance through the forest, and to “speak” through his horn the famous line, “Lord, what fools these mortals be.”

Unknown

Now Terry, immortal no longer, has died at the age of 94.
Clark-Terry-in-1991.-008

It was reading of his death in the Guardian obituary that sent me foraging through my CDs yesterday, picking out both Such Sweet Thunder and In Orbit, the album Terry made in May, 1958 with Thelonious Monk at the piano, Sam Jones on bass and Philly Joe Jones on the drums.

The In Orbit sessions – May 7th & 12th – are interesting not just because Terry plays the mellower, somewhat deeper sounding fluglehorn as opposed to trumpet, but for the fact that this was one of a relatively small number of times, thus far into his career, that Monk deigned to be a sideman on somebody else’s record. Not only that, Monk plays in a more straightforward manner than usual – propelled to a large extent by Philly Joe Jones’ drumming – the only time the two recorded together, I think – his solos more exuberant and straight ahead than quirky and introspective.

51TchIgEddL._SS135_SL160_

We were listening to both CDs yesterday evening, initially before and during dinner, and then, having turned on the television at the appropriate time to watch Barcelona against Manchester City, we kept the volume muted, much preferring the likes of Clark Terry’s “One Foot in the Gutter” (based on the chords of Monk’s favourite hymn, “We’ll Understand It Better, Bye and Bye”) and Duke’s “Sonnet to Hank Cinq” to the clichés of soccer commentary.

And although the synchronisation never fully worked, listening to Terry’s joyous, bubbling Puck while watching Lionel Messi was close to a marriage made in some latter-day Shakespearean Ducal heaven.

Sidewinder Strikes Again!

Okay, I said I’d return to this coming Friday’s Jazz & Poetry gig at Enfield’s Dugdale Centre and here it is: hosted by Allen Ashley & Sarah Doyle, and with live jazz from four excellent musicians – Louis Cennamo, Graham Pike, Barry Parfitt and Tim Stephens – the redoubtable Nancy Mattson and myself will be taking it in turns to step up and read with the band, something we’re both looking forward to a great deal.

Having mainly read with same guys over the past years – and very much enjoyed doing so – it’s been interesting in recent months to work with different groups of musicians, John Lake’s band on the South Coast, John Lucas’ band recently in Nottingham, and now the quartet led by Louis Cennamo. Allen and Sarah, who put these Enfield sessions together, were keen for me to try some different material, setting up a four-hour rehearsal with the band to make this possible. So it is that on Friday, along with some of the more usual pieces about Art Pepper, Lester Young and Thelonious Monk, I’ll be delving into the collected poems in Out of Silence for “Blue Settee”, “Saturday” and “Temps Greatest Hits, Vol II”- the latter closing the set accompanied by what promises to be a blistering version of Lee Morgan’s “Sidewinder”.

If this sounds tempting – and if you’re reading this, it should – the venue’s just a half-hour train journey from Liverpool Street or Highbury & Islington.

See you there!

image002

Music for Not Writing

What do you listen to, people ask, when you’re writing? And the answer, boringly, is nothing. Nothing at all. The rhythm I’m trying to hear is the one inside my head: the words, their sound, repetition, rise and fall. Stop there before I talk myself into Psueds’ Corner.

But when I’m not writing, there’s almost always music playing somewhere. The iPod in the kitchen, for instance, with several thousand tracks on shuffle, anything from Berg’s Three Pieces for Orchestra to Eel’s Blinking Lights & Other Revelations. Radio Swiss Classic is fairly constantly playing over the internet in the library when I’m reading (or napping) – 24 hour music with no adverts and only the briefest of announcements (in German, which I don’t speak, so only the occasional word intrudes – “Mozart”, say, or “Hadyn”). When I’m out walking on or around the Heath, more often than not I’m listening to something through headphones, either a BBC Radio Podcast or something new that I’ve downloaded –right now, Girlboy’s cheeky little single, Jennifer Lawrence.

Most of the above is incidental: each month or so there tends to be a small group of CDs that I sit down and listen to more carefully – Music for More Carfeful Listening. This month there are four …

R-6317784-1416328212-5897.jpeg

 

  • John Tilbury & Philip Thomas: Two Pianos & Other Pieces by Morton Feldman
  • Louis Armstrong at The Crescendo 1955, Complete Edition
  • Jan Lundgren: All By Myself
  • Thelonious Monk: The Complete 1961 Amsterdam Concert

140690