Attention living jazz legends: make friends fast. Or at least treat your relatives respectfully. Because if you don't, your legacy is likely to take a beating. A few weeks ago, David Hajdu, a superb jazz writer at the New Republic, re-evaluated Stan Kenton, and his assessment was fairly blunt: "The bulk of [Kenton's] output was blighted by ostentation, gimmickry, and bloat. Stan Kenton gave pretentiousness a bad name." David went on to "recommend the music highly to any contemporary artist inclined to monstrosity." [Photo at top of Buddy Childers and Stan Kenton c. 1948 by William P. Gottlieb]
David certainly has a point. I have my own Kenton issues. I think the bandleader's rigidity, sappiness and frigid way in which he tried to Wagnerize jazz now seems silly, claustrophobic and contrived. Kenton always seems like a bank president trapped inside an orchestra leader. Even Kenton's own band musicians chafed under his anti-swing vision, and the leader came across as a musical martinet who sought high-culture legitimacy at all costs.
But I'm not sure that writing off Kenton's contribution to jazz based completely on these charges is appropriate. In all fairness, Kenton was no more or less pretentious or classical-obsessed than Duke Ellington, Dave Brubeck, Gil Evans and many other jazz greats under the sway of modernists. And Kenton's outsized, elitist ego surely didn't exceed Artie Shaw's, Bing Crosby's, Mel Torme's or half a dozen other musical personalities from the period.
So why is Kenton such a plump target for East Coast scribes?
I think Kenton's sound has been somewhat misunderstood. Kenton was from California. And California in the 1940s and '50s was a special place. It was big and growing bigger, fast during this period. California was first to embrace post-war modernity with its highway system, cars and tract housing. It had more of everything and was the cradle of the post-war American Dream.
And thanks to racist real estate covenants and segregationist police departments, Southern California's expansion was largely white. In the post-war years, more white musicians moved to the West Coast to take advantage of the weather, the recording opportunities and the new suburban lifestyle. Of course, there were plenty of black musicians who did well there, too—Nat Cole, Lee Young, Ray Brown, Buddy Collette, Red Callender [pictured] and others. But for the most part, Southern California was a white environment that greatly assisted white jazz—due to no fault of the white jazz musicians who benefited from the system.
Kenton was able to assemble a band of extraordinary players, readers and arrangers. The best bands ever? Hardly. The one band that will remain relevant for years to come? Obviously not. But in its time (from roughly 1945 to 1960) Kenton's bands were repeatedly extraordinary. Solo for Buddy, The Opener, Artistry Jumps, Malibu Moonlight, Beyond the Blue Horizon, Eager Beaver, Intermission Riff—all these and more encapsulate the drama of Southern California's brooding intensity, its coastline, its sunsets, its ambition and its aggression. The music of lotus land in transit.
In fact, I'm not sure how one writes off Kenton's contribution given the strength of Back to Balboa (1958) alone. Just as we size up Louis Armstrong, Charlie Parker and Miles Davis in context with their times and ambitions, Kenton, for better or worse, needs to be valued the same way.
Kenton put the brassy kick in orchestral jazz. His band was made of up power punchers, and all were exceptional players and readers. His personality may not have allowed for the swing of Count Basie, the poetic textures of Duke Ellington or the wooliness of Woody Herman. But a large percentage of Kenton's works remain important.
Kenton was the West. And sometimes the West sounded superficial. Or less original. But California jazz still matters, and Kenton was the gleaming engine behind much of that optimism and dreaming. As for his daughter's charges in her book, shame on Kenton if they're true. As for the music, you really need to hear it while driving along the coast just south of Los Anegles. It all comes into focus.
Barbara Lea (1929-2011), a vocalist with enormous promise in the mid-1950s whose stage fright and slowing work opportunities forced her to give up singing until an acting career restored her confidence nearly 20 years later, died Dec. 26. She was 82.
Lea never seemed to be in the right place at the right time when she launched her professional singing career in 1954. A vocalist with sophistication and plenty of musical taste, Lea sacrificed a significant following when she chose not to tour—essential to an artist's popularity just as it is today. As a result, she was unable to gain traction as opportunities began to shrink rapidly in the pop-rock era.
Lea also was at something of a disadvantage, since she had a clean-cut, girl-next-door look in the '50s just when many popular female vocalists appeared sultry and vixen-like on stage and on album covers in an effort to part unsuspecting male music lovers from their LP dollars.
To Lea's credit, though, when she returned to the stage in the '70s, she managed to win the hearts of prominent jazz critics, including The New Yorker's Whitney Balliett. Their support helped revive her music career. But while Lea's choice of American Songbook classics enabled her to resurrect her singing career, she tended to become pegged as a cabaret singer and remained little known to many jazz fans.
Lea's finest moments in the studio include A Woman in Love (1955/Riverside), Barbara Lea (1956/Prestige) and Lea in Love (1957/Prestige).
Here's Lea singing Where Have You Been, from Barbara Lea, featuring Johnny Windhurst (tp) Dick Cary (p) Al Casamenti (g) Al Hall (b) and Osie Johnson (d)...
Carol Sloane—more about that photo. Last weekend I posted the photo above, courtesy of singer Carol Sloane. It features (from left): Bob Brookmeyer, Jimmy Rowles, Carol Sloane and Tommy Flanagan. Naturally, I had a bunch of questions—probably the same ones you had. Carol was kind enough to fill me in:
Where was the photo taken? "The apartment belonged to Pat Sheinwold on W. 58th St."
What's the occasion? "This was a party held for pianist Jimmy Rowles on the evening just before he left for England to play behind Ella Fitzgerald. He was to take over for Tommy Flanagan, who's with me at the piano. Jimmy had actually played for Ella a few weeks earlier as her 'new man' on a gig in Atlantic City."
Were you dating Bob Brookmeyer at the time? "No. This party would have been held in 1977 or '78. Bob had returned from Los Angeles in 1976, clean and sober."
What were you singing with Tommy at the piano? "I don't know whether I was singing or talking, but it sure looks like I was singing. I have no idea what the tune might have been."
Who else was at the gathering who isn't pictured? "Pianist Dick Katz and Tommy's wife Diana."
How did Flanagan and Rowles wind up in the same room? "Our hostess wanted it that way. And because they were very close friends. And because Jimmy was taking the piano chair for Ella. The only time I ever talked to Norman Granz was when I volunteered to negotiate the weekly stipend Jimmy would receive."
Whose photo is framed on the piano? "Jascha Heifetz."
What are Rowles and Brookmeyer talking about? "Lord only knows..."
Ray Charles—Hit the Road Jack and more. If you've been following Bret Primack's series of super video docs in support of Ray Charles: Singular Genius, the ABC Singles (Concord), you'll love his new installment...
CD discovery of the week: Mayer Hawthorne is the stage name of Andrew Mayer Cohen, a Los Angeles singer, producer, songwriter, arranger, engineer, DJ and multi-instrumentalist. Mayer is his middle name; Hawthorne is the street he grew up on in Ann Arbor, Mich. How Do You Do (Universal Republic) is Hawthorne's third album and a crafty integration of past soul themes, resulting in a powerful and convincing new white soul sound. On the singing and arranging side, Hawthorne manages to flavor his originals with touches of Blue Magic, the Average White Band and the Doobie Brothers. The beats are all catchy, and the keyboard, guitar, bass and horn hooks are tight and clubby.
What's particularly nifty is how Hawthorne writes songs with contemporary themes but frames them with older soul approaches. Each of these themes is vaguely familiar. Notable tracks—Get to Know You, A Long Time and The Walk, which sounds like a funky blending of Tommy James and Lenny Williams. Or You Called Me, with its General Johnson Give Me Just a Little More Time vocal attack. Or You're Not Ready, a neat salute to Barbara Mason's Yes, I'm Ready. Hawthorne has quite a falsetto. Nicely done. You'll find How Do You Do at iTunes and Amazon.
Oddball album cover of the week: Chet Atkins in Hollywood was recorded in October 1958, when Hollywood still meant the opportunity to record pop and movie themes. Pop-rock was a few years off. Given Chet's love for the guitar, my guess is that his amazement and excitement behind the wheel have more to do with the Gibson hanging out on Hollywood and Vine than our gilt gal.


I always saw Kenton's act as descending directly from Paul Whiteman, as was Spike Jones and Lawrence Welk.... maybe a feature on any of these three would be a good idea :P
Posted by: Chris Darkheart | December 31, 2011 at 05:21 AM
I played two years with Stan in the early 70's. It was exciting every night from inside the band, and most of the time, the audience seemed to agree.
Posted by: Chris Galuman | December 31, 2011 at 10:46 AM
Nicely done as usual Marc. Kenton in context is a very interesting proposition indeed. One quick correction on your oddball feature. That's a Gretsch guitar not a Gibson. Atkins endorsed (and played) Gretsch guitars at the time of recording this LP, although the model featured is not one of the models he favored and almost certainly not his.
Posted by: Nick Rossi | December 31, 2011 at 10:54 AM
"...Kenton always seems like a bank president trapped inside an orchestra leader..."
Priceless Marc!
Have a great New Year and thank you for my daily fix of 'Wax.
Posted by: Doug Zielke | December 31, 2011 at 11:24 AM
Well, Stan Kenton, whose centennial was on December 15, he possessed a complex, multilayered personality.
He always wanted it big, but not too jazzy. He was definitely not a very easy going, or charming person. As I wrote in my blog (feel free to click on my name) my favorite Kenton era is his 1944/45 to 1954 period with June Christy, all those great players like Art Pepper, Lee Konitz, Sal Salvador, Conte Candoli, Laurindo Almeida, or Stan Levey, and arrangers Pete Rugolo, Bill Holman, Bill Russo, and the one who wrote and rewrote for Kenton's book probably more than any other, Gene Roland.
From 1955 on, only the Johnny Richards albums are really of interest for me. -- "Cuban Fire", "West Side Story", "Adventures In Time", and last but not least the wonderful album with Stan Kenton's last regular vocalist Jean Turner stand out here as jazz orchestral milestones.
Those mighty mellophoniums are sounding like ancient Roman cornua (that's at least how I would imagine their sound).
Robert Graettinger's works for Kenton, "City of Glass" & "This Modern World", should be treated extra, as new music rather, than as jazz.
I simply love this album:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdEx7MFPL_4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBE-Hhji9Hc
Posted by: Brew | December 31, 2011 at 12:38 PM
Regarding today's blog, I'm in agreement with your defense of Kenton.
I find a good deal of his music colorful and exciting. But I do have a
bone to pick with you when you label Kenton's "outsized, elitist ego"
and link it with Bing Crosby. I don't understand what an "elitist ego"
is? Was Crosby an elitist? I'm sure that he had a very healthy ego
as all driven performers must have, but I've never come across a
statement ascribed to Crosby, either publicly or privately, in which he
put himself above others. All his well quoted public remarks regarding
his vocal abilities and rivals, most notably Sinatra, were self-deprecating
and modest. As for the public's perception of Crosby, I think his image,
at least in the 1940's, was that of being an Everyman, rather than being
part of an elite.
Posted by: Roger Schore | December 31, 2011 at 03:15 PM
Why Kenton continues to be a lightning rod after all these years is beyond me. Like most other jazz musicians with a huge discography, his music varied in quality. But even for listeners who have no use for his music in general, there are Kenton albums that are indispensable in the history of big-band jazz, including the 1955 CONTEMPORARY CONCEPTS pictured above. Anyone who can't "hear" that album (propelled by Al Porcino and Mel Lewis, and with superb arrangements by Bill Holman and Gerry Mulligan and equally superb solos by Charlie Mariano, Lennie Niehaus, Bill Perkins, and Carl Fontana) has perfect ears: no holes.
Most of the musicians who worked for Kenton have said that he always treated them with respect. It's rare to find a former sideman who put him down.
He gave composer-arrangers like Pete Rugolo, Bob Graettinger, Gerry Mulligan, Bill Holman, Bill Russo, and Lennie Niehaus major career opportunities. He put his money where his mouth was. Also, he was one of the foremost exponents of jazz education, doing the summer clinic circuit and jazz-orchestra-in-residence long before those things were commonplace.
It's time that Kenton received balanced evaluations and not the ad hominem kind better suited to 1940s fan magazines. Marc's piece is a step in the right direction, as was Ted Gioia's in his book WEST COAST JAZZ twenty years ago.
Posted by: Bill Kirchner | December 31, 2011 at 04:36 PM
Marc; your even handed treatment of David Hadjus’ hit piece on the legacy of Stan Kenton is appreciated.
While granting readers that the Kenton style and certain discographical items are controversial, I think Hadjus’ condemnation of Kenton’s status in jazz music is over the top and driven by more than serious music criticism, as evidenced by inclusion of the incest allegations. I’ll kindly call it snobbery.
I admit that I was surprised when I heard that Kenton’s centennial was being recognized by those NYC-based institutions. Because, in addition to your listing of great ‘hires’, Kenton is celebrated for a musical legacy unique from most other jazz artists. Stan Kenton’s dedication to music education and his transcendent musical influence is often overlooked by east coast critics. His nationwide school music clinics and camps were attended by many of today’s top session players. Musicians who played in his band or were influenced by his sound were integral practitioners of the West Coast jazz sound. Read Bob Gioias’ West Coast Jazz for supporting documentation. Kenton’s brassy style also manifested itself in countless film and television soundtracks.
Someday a scholarly work will be written on what factors constitute racial, geographic and gender-specific musical tastes. As a long-time fan and consumer of big band jazz it is obvious to me that this music has fan demographics distinct from other types of jazz. More specifically I’ve observed at hundreds of concerts that the fan base of Kenton, Rich, Herman, Ferguson, Don Ellis and their musical descendants is predominantly young, white and male. This music is mostly loud, aggressive and generally upbeat. I’ll leave the underlying connection to others. But conversely, jazz music that is dark, moody, obtuse, or reflects the grittier side of life seems to have a better chance of being considered serious by many critics. Only swing and ballads can bridge the gap.
Improvisation-based music takes many forms and moods. I’m tired of Tragically Hip writers like David Hadju (a Patti Smith fan) playing the arbiter of what is significant in jazz.
Posted by: Rick M | January 01, 2012 at 01:15 AM
Correction: TED Gioias book West Coast Jazz.
Sorry, Ted.
Posted by: Rick M | January 01, 2012 at 01:23 AM
A large part of the credit for the quality of those two Barbara Lea albums should go to arranger and musical director Dick Cary (who also plays piano and alto horn on the sessions.) Barbara herself says in the liner notes for "Lea in Love" that "anything good that happens on this record is mostly Dick's doing."
Posted by: David | January 01, 2012 at 12:09 PM
I'm also both mystified and tired of the Kenton bashing that seems to go on and on. Kenton was one of the last of the big band leaders. I saw him many times when I was in high school in the mid 70's and he always had a great band. I read all of the criticisms of his band and for me, each one is highlight -- just like Duke and Count and Woody and Buddy, his band had its own characteristic sound and approach with great arrangements and players. I've never read an interview with a sideman, or talked to a sideman that had anything really negative to say about Kenton (yeah all of these guys were colorful, but I mean REALLY bad to say about the way they ran their band or treated their colleagues). And don't even get me started on his contribution to music education!
Nobody knows whether his daughter's allegations are true....since he's dead, we'll never really know. Like a lot of other famous jazz musicians Kenton was human, and may not have been such a nice human being away from the bandstand.....as I've heard stated about some other famous jazz musicians, this has nothing to do with his music.
Posted by: keith hedger | January 01, 2012 at 12:22 PM
For all you would-be Kenton bashers who disparage the man’s ability to swing, romp, attack and communicate, it’s time to take out and dust off his 1952 recording of what is now referred to as his “Young Blood” band.
Play a few tracks ... and then be ashamed of yourselves!
"Critics are those who can’t."
Posted by: Jery Rowan | January 02, 2012 at 01:28 PM
Thanks for that defense of Kenton’s music, qualified or no. Every artist’s oeuvre has gaps or lapses in taste or ennui or what have you, but Kenton’s work in the period you discuss is way relevant to jazz history and I find highly enjoyable/listenable. My dad worked at Capitol during that period and he was a huge Kenton fan so perhaps I’m generationally prejudiced, but my old man was a big proponent of swing (being a drummer himself) and for him Kenton was not excluded from that category.
Your piece immediately reminded me of something I read way long ago -- I know if I fish out my dusty copy of JAZZ (the companion book to Ken Burns’ series), there are two “essays” printed in there that contain similar rubbish appraisals of – and I find this telling – Kenton and Keith Jarrett. It’s as if Marsalis and Crouch slapped huge red “no” labels on those two for Burns and told him they weren’t jazz. {wretch] The editor just could have said, “If you can’t say anything nice….”
But I digress….thanks for being such a great proponent of the West Coast sound, my home sound.
Posted by: Greg Lee | January 03, 2012 at 01:29 PM