JazzWax

Dick Grove: Big, Bad & Beautiful

Dick Grove wore two hats. There was Grove the educator, who moved to Los Angeles in 1957 and taught at the Westlake School of Music. In 1973, he started the Dick Grove School of Music, enlisting Henry Mancini, Bill Conti and Lalo Schifrin as teachers. How did he manage to pull that off? [Photo above of Dick Grove]

That brings us to the other Dick Grove—the powerhouse arranger and conductor for bands, movies and television. When he wasn't working with music students, Grove wrote superb arrangements for many leading bands in the 1960s, including Jimmy Bond, Gerald Wilson, Les Brown and Buddy Rich. Rich's Rotten Kid by Buddy Greco on Rich's The New One! was orchestrated by Grove.

As a leader, Grove recorded two of the smartest big-band albums of the 1960s and early '70s. The first was Little Bird Suite in 1963 for Pacific Jazz. It had nothing to do with Charlie Parker. Instead, each of the seven songs in the suite was named for a different bird: Night Hawk, Bird of Pardiaso, Mosca Espanola, Little Bird, Canto de Oriole, Doodad and Circlet. 

Grove's approach was influenced by the stylistic merging of Gil Evans, Clare Fischer and Russ Garcia. Songs sigh and shift moods frequently, with just the right amount of punch and brassy energy. The band consisted of Jules Chaiken, Ollie Mitchell, Dick Hurwitz and Joe Burnett (tp,flhrn); Bob Edmondson, Mike Barone and Ernie Tack (tb); or Dick McQuardy (tb); Paul Horn, Bill Robinson, Bob Hardaway, Bill Perkins and John Lowe (reeds,woodwinds); Dick Grove (p,arr); Al Viola (g); Ralph Pena (b) and Norm Jeffries (d).

Ten years later, in 1973, Grove recorded Big, Bad & Beautiful a groovy masterpiece for the First Place label. The music is stunning and in sync with the looser times. Grove's arrangements are distinctly his own and shift between funky rhythms, silky ballads and straight-ahead swing. The songs are Mr. Blue, The Call, Dead Ringers, Dill Pickles, My Lady, Good 'n' Plenty, Big Band & Beautiful, Ain't No Doubt About It and Trilogy for Roy. The last one is an exceptional work.

The band featured Buddy Childers, Jack Feierman and Hal Espinosa (tp); Jay Daversa and Joe Burnett (flhrn); Charley Loper, George Bohanon, Bob Edmondson and Dick McQuarry (tb); Lanny Morgan (as); Bob Hardaway (ts,sop); Bill Perkins (as); Bill Hood (bar); Bill Robinson (ts,cl); Pete Jolly (p,el-p,org); Al Viola (g); Gene Cherico (b,el-b); Roy Burns (d); Norm Jeffries (perc) and Dick Grove (arr,cond,comp).

I always find myself listening to these albums over and over again in one sitting, digging the exciting instrumentation and expressions throughout. One can only admire Grove's sweeping and deeply thoughtful arranging style. The sound is so sophisticated and ambitious, it's as if he was treating the orchestra like a palette of paint and applying it to a massive canvas. A shame an orchestra can't be assembled today to play this music live. Perhaps in Europe.

Dick Grove died in 1998.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Big, Bad & Beautiful on a newly released two-fer from Fresh Sound here.

It's paired with another big-band gem, Gene Estes' Westful, which I wrote about here.

JazzWax clips: Here's Night Hawk from Little Bird Suite...

Night Hawk

Here's The Call from Big, Bad & Beautiful...

The Call

And here's Trilogy for Roy from Big, Bad & Beautiful...

Trilogy for Roy

Joe Castro: Passion Flower

Joe Castro was a captivating figure. A multi-talented West Coast bop pianist in the early 1950s and beyond, Castro also was a tasteful recording-session leader and soloist. He had the sturdy keyboard command of Dave Brubeck, the bounce of Hampton Hawes and styling of Dodo Marmarosa. And like Brubeck and Armstrong, he also had one of the broadest and most eager smiles. Unfortunately, Castro never broke into the big time with a working group or a contract with a major record label. [Photo above of Joe Castro and Duke Ellington]

Instead, the dashing, elegant Castro became romantically involved with a wealthy benefactor in the late '50s and tried to go it alone. Fortunately, Castro's darting contribution to jazz was well documented. On the newly released six-CD box set, Joe Castro: Passion Flower for Doris Duke (Sunnyside), co-produced by James Castro, one of Joe's sons, and Daniel Richard, the music fills in what wasn't covered by the first superb Castro box in 2015: Joe Castro: Lush Life, a Musical Journey (Sunnyside). For me, the new set is among the most rewarding jazz boxes of the year.

The first CD in the new set features Castro's lyrical bop trio recordings of 1955 and '56. They were recorded in a studio at Falcon Lair (above), the mansion in the Bel Air section of Los Angeles owned by energy and tobacco heiress Doris Duke, with whom Castro had a romantic relationship. The mansion had been built in 1925 by leading actor Rudolph Valentino and was sold to Duke in 1952. It still stands today above Benedict Canyon. On these trio sessions, Castro was backed by different leading bassists and drummers, including Leroy Vinnegar and Jimmy Pratt; Red Mitchell and Pratt; Vinnegar and Lawrence Marable; and Paul Chambers and Philly Joe Jones.

The second CD features a bunch of Castro's friends who recorded in 1956 at Duke Farms, Doris Duke's estate in Hillsborough, N.J. These friends included pianist Paul Bley, bassist Hal Gaylor and drummer Lennie McBrowne as well as vocalist Flo Handy and her arranger-pianist and husband George Handy. Flo, the sister of singer Ella Mae Morse, would divorce Handy and go on to marry tenor saxophonist Al Cohn.

The Handy tracks are especially interesting, since Flo would record only one album with guitarists George Barnes and Carl Kress in 1964. These duo and orchestral tracks unearthed with George Handy apparently are the alternate takes, since George Handy took the master tapes and either wiped or destroyed them. The Handy-Flo-Cohn love triangle is fascinating all by itself.

The third CD includes Castro's richly articulated Mood Jazz, recorded for Atlantic and released in 1957. The box features bonus tracks and alternate takes. Arrangements were by Ray Ellis and Neal Hefti. Guest soloists include Nat Adderley and Cannonball Adderley. The music is a nifty intersection of pop and jazz without the commercial trappings. It's just fascinating music.

The fourth CD is Castro's Groove, Funk, Soul, released on Atlantic in 1960. He was backed by Vinnegar, who had become his working bassist, drummer Billy Higgins and tenor saxophonist Teddy Edwards. Pure West Coast jazz with Central Avenue flavor, as it was meant to be. The original album's tracks are joined here by previously unissued bonus tracks and alternate takes.

The fifth CD is a previously unreleased album project by Castro called The Sidewalks of New York, recorded in 1965. The album was recorded around the time of his break with Duke, a rupture that led to a legal scrap in '64, a dropping of legal action and reunification. In '66, Castro would separate from Duke permanently and marry Loretta Haddad, a pianist-singer. The session included bassist Teddy Kotick and drummer Paul Motian.

The sixth and final CD is a previously unreleased project Castro recorded in 1965 for Clover Records, which he co-owned with Doris Duke and Duke Ellington. Dissatisfied with the trio sound, Castro overdubbed horns by the Bob Cooper Ensemble. Unfortunately, the label folded in '66 after his final split with Duke. On this disc, we hear Doris Duke on piano on Passion Flower and an alternate take of Remind Me. 

I love this box and find it to be among the hippest sets of the year. There's so much variety here, and all of the material is tasteful and in the pocket. When you put all of the pieces together, one can't help but wonder if Castro remained with Duke to ensure that he had a great studio to record in or if they both loved jazz so much that they were bonded to each other for artistic reasons. Doris Duke, clearly was a fascinating figure in her own right, as the world's richest woman who constantly was in the news for a range of daring and sordid reasons. She also was the one who first floated the idea of an outdoor jazz festival in Newport to George Wein after classical concerts didn't quite work out.

Or perhaps Castro loved Duke, but between his touring and Duke's own dalliances, their only real love connection was jazz. Or Duke only felt truly alive when Joe and jazz filled her home. Whatever the reason, their passion for the music and each other adds a dramatic and sensual backstory to the joyous music on this box. Frankly, the love story and their life at Falcon Lair are as intriguing to me as the music. 

Doris Duke died in 1993, Loretta Haddad died in 2008 and Joe Castro died in 2009.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Joe Castro: Passion Flower for Doris Duke (Sunnyside) here and here.

You'll also find the box at Spotify.

JazzWax clips: Here's the Joe Castro Trio playing Taking a Chance on Love...

Taking a Chance On Love

Here's It's You or No One, arranged with voices by Neal Hefti...

It's You or No One

Here's Angel Eyes, with Ray Ellis's string arrangement...

Angel Eyes

Here's Day In, Day Out, with Teddy Edwards...

Day In, Day Out

And here's Satin Doll...

Satin Doll

Basie and Ella Docs

There are dozens of documentaries on jazz but precious few about the private lives of great jazz musicians. Eagle Vision recently released two—Count Basie: Through His Own Eyes and Ella Fitzgerald: Just One Of Those Things. In both cases, the use of footage, still images and interview subjects are compelling and the music is rich. While a bulk of the material in the films covers familiar ground, you'll likely discover a few things about these artists' private lives you may not have known.

In the Basie documentary, directed by Jeremy Marre (above), the late British writer and filmmaker who died in March, we learn that the humble, soft-spoken bandleader had a disabled daughter, Diane, who had cerebral palsy. Encouraged to give her up, Basie and his wife, Catherine, cared for her instead and loved her deeply, teaching her to swim in their backyard pool and treating her like any other child.

The film features many photographs as well as footage of Basie with his wife and daughter at home, a side of the pianist largely unknown to fans of his music. As Quincy Jones notes, "Basie was a very simple man and a positive person who lived above his hardships." Unfortunately, the film never tells us what happened to Diane and whether she is with us today.

Directed by Leslie Woodhead, an esteemed British filmmaker, the Fitzgerald documentary also shares a great deal about the singer's life off  stage. At age 2, she moved from Virginia to New York and settled with her mother in Yonkers, N.Y. Fitzgerald wanted to be a dancer, but after losing her mother to a car accident, Fitzgerald spent time with relatives and then landed in an orphan asylum. After running away, she was sentenced to a state reformatory, where she spent a period in solitary confinement.

Escaping to New York in the early 1930s, Fitzgerald performed at the Apollo Theater's amateur night. She was supposed to dance but sang instead and knocked out the audience, winning the talent contest. When informed of the "girl at the Apollo," drummer and bandleader Chick Webb reportedly replied, "I don't want that ugly old thing." Webb, of course, changed his tune once he heard her sing.

Fitzgerald joined the Webb band as a singer in early 1935 and within six weeks at the Savoy Ballroom, many of the major bands of the era wanted her. After her hit, (If You Can't Sing It) You'll Have to Swing It (Mr. Paganini) in 1936, Webb and his wife took on a parental role to care for the 18-year-old. [Photo above of Ella Fitzgerald and Chick Webb]

Most of Fitzgerald's early output was novelty numbers sung with a voice that she herself said sounded like a little girl. After Webb died at 34 in 1939, Fitzgerald took over, renaming the band Ella Fitzgerald and Her Famous Orchestra. In the late 1940s, Fitzgerald favored bebop and began scatting. But her scatting, as good as it was, often was used as a default when she forgot the lyrics to songs.

By the mid-1950s, her manager and record producer Norman Granz had her sing American songbook albums devoted to individual composers. These recordings crossed over and boosted her career and income. But as popular and successful as Fitzgerald was, Granz had to buy her house in his name because Beverly Hills at the time was restricted to whites only. [Photo above of Ella Fitzgerald and Norman Granz]

Though never mentioned in the film, Fitzgerald had a penchant for chewing gum off stage, as we can see in all of the touring footage. Was it to steady nerves or keep her mouth from drying? Either way, the rhythm of the gum-chewing as she disembarks from planes or while walking on train platforms in dark glasses is an interesting proclivity. But we do gain insights into her strained relationship with her adopted son, Ray Brown Jr. It was hard for him to develop a meaningful relationship with his mother given her marathon touring schedule. One imagines it must have been a lonely childhood for him and a daunting task for her to switch off her own anxieties and pressures, and assume a life of "family normalcy" during her down time.

Some of the film's best parts are on her life at home. After she divorced bassist Ray Brown in 1953, they remained friends. But as singer Cleo Laine and others note, she was without a partner to talk to about her ups and downs and business decisions. As George Wein (above) says in the film, "Ella was a road rat. If she wasn't working, she was sitting home alone."

We also learn about how her struggles with her weight made her feel and her resentment over not being given her own TV show, unlike many top white female singers . And then there was Norman Granz's rift with Frank Sinatra. After the controlling Granz told Sinatra what song he should open with, Sinatra threw him out of the venue. In return, Granz wouldn't let Fitzgerald sing with him for years. [Photo above of Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald]

The film has two tiny flaws. The names of interview subjects appear just once on screen. As a result, you're left in the dark if you didn't catch their names the first time. The film also dwells a little long on her American songbook recordings, which is tired and processed turf. More interesting would have been insights into whether Fitzgerald truly cared about this music or connected with it, and whether she resented being pulled away from songs she cared about more or wanted to sing. Overall, the most insightful and poetic remarks that put Fitzgerald in perspective are delivered by Pulitzer prize-winning writer Margo Jefferson (above). Each remark rings an intellectual bell.

JazzWax videos: You'll find the new Count Basie and Ella Fitzgerald documentaries from Eagle Vision at Amazon Prime.

Here's the Basie documentary trailer...

And here's the Ella documentary trailer...