My 2 Favorite Duke Ellington LPs

A warm afternoon in 1972, a snub and a pair of albums discovered late

Duke Ellington was late, but Dizzy Gillespie knew he’d show. I was 15 on that warm Saturday, August 15, 1972, and was already in love with jazz. Late that afternoon, I was standing behind the outdoor stage inches from Dizzy Gillspie, who was conversing with Stan Getz. We were on the sprawling grounds of Lyndhurst Mansion, an estate once owned by Jay Gould in Irvington, N.Y. I couldn’t believe my good fortune. [Photo above of a 32-year-old Queen Elizabeth II meeting a 59-year-old Duke Ellington ]

Getz had arranged a benefit concert to help raise money for the family of his son’s friend, Brian Sheldrake, a high school sophomore. Both of Sheldrake’s arms had been amputated at the shoulder four months earlier. We were virtually the same age, so his catastrophic accident hit home. [Photo above of Lyndhurt Mansion]

That spring, Sheldrake had climbed a utility pole to take pictures of the Hudson River. He fell into high tension, 11,000‐volt wires along the railroad tracks leading into New York City. This same railroad line appears in many movies, including North by Northwest. His fall into the wires also resulted in losing part of his foot.

The outdoor concert was scheduled to start at 6 and had sold out all 4,500 tickets. I had arrived at the venue super-early. Ellington was due to go on first since he and his band had to get back to Manhattan’s Rainbow Room, where they were performing.

When Ellington’s limo rolled slowly across the grass, kids like me surrounded the door eager to have something signed. I had a piano book of his most popular songs that I was learning on the piano. [Publicity still above of Duke Ellington]

When Duke got out, he seemed to be followed by a half-dozen women. It was something to see, since they were all dressed in evening wear. But rather than make time for eager kids, Ellington brushed us all off gruffly and headed to the stage where the band had already taken their seats.

It took me years to forget that snub. I never played that Ellington piano book again and moved on to the Bill Evans. I didn’t resume buying Ellington albums again until the late 1980s. Yesterday, on a similarly warm day outside, I listened to two of my favorites: The Queen’s Suite (1959) and …And His Mother Called Him Bill (1967).

The former is one of the oddest recordings in Ellington’s discography. Ellington first met Queen Elizabeth II in October 1958 at the Leeds Centenary Music Festival in Yorkshire, England. Following a cordial and mildly flirtatious exchange, Ellington promised to compose music for her.

The following year, he and collaborator Billy Strayhorn completed the work and the band recorded The Queen’s Suite. Only one gold copy was pressed. Ellington reimbursed Columbia Records the $2,500 production cost. The disc was sent directly to Buckingham Palace for the Queen’s ears only, along with a personal, hand-written note. Ellington was ensured it wouldn’t be released publicly until after his death.

The original master tapes later became part of Ellington’s commercial catalog at Columbia. In 1976, two years after his passing, the suite was finally released on the compilation album The Ellington Suites by Norman Granz’s Pablo label. The music remains as elegant and sensual as its original intent. The work combines formality with the graceful sass he saw in her.

…And His Mother Called Him Bill was recorded for RCA in the fall of 1968, a tribute to Billy Strayhorn, who had died in May at age 51 of cancer. The album featured Strayhorn compositions, among them ones that had not been previously recorded. The album won a Grammy for best large jazz ensemble album. [Photo above of Billy Strayhorn and Duke Ellington]

Both albums are regal portraits of important figures Ellington admired for different reasons. The music and orchestrations are timeless, with the bands at their expressive best. I often listen to them together, one after the next. They have much in common.

As for Brian Sheldrake, little is known other than Slate reporting in 2005 that he was driving a 40-foot RV with his feet.

Here’s the complete Queen’s Suite…

And here’s The Intimacy of the Blues…

And here’s Rock Skippin’ at the Blue Note…