Articles by Steven Cerra
Victor Feldman - Part 5: The Final Years, 1978-87
by Steven Cerra
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5Looking back to 1978, it's hard to believe that in less than 10 years, Victor would no longer be with us.Woody Herman was never out of Victor's musical life. His career in the States had begun when he joined Woody's band and he often expressed his gratitude to the Old Man for making it all happen for him. Victor once shared with me:
read moreVictor Feldman - Part 4: The Artful Dodger, 1967-1977
by Steven Cerra
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 During the decade in question, due to the responsibilities of establishing myself in a career outside of music and because of the obligations of a growing family, I did not see Victor as often. Fortunately for me, he did appear regularly with his quartet at Donte's, a nightclub in North Hollywood that was a short drive from my home in nearby Burbank, ...
read moreVictor Feldman - Part 3: Miles & Beyond
by Steven Cerra
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 His keyboard technique is above reproach and is matched by his brilliance on vibes and drums; his knowledge of rhythms and meters, and the possibilities inherent in combining melodic lines with percussion expressions, greatly expounds the sounds of any group within which he works." (Philip Elwood, The San Francisco Examiner) These eloquently phrased words of high praise for Victor Feldman were ...
read moreVictor Feldman - Part 2: From Cannonball to Russia
by Steven Cerra
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5As to the title of this piece, I thought about calling it Part 2: The Cannonball Years," but since Victor was with Cannonball for only less than a full year, I thought that might be overstating things a bit. I lived in San Francisco for most of the decade of the 1990s. And it was there on March 4, 1999, a typical, foggy San Francisco ...
read moreVictor Feldman - Part 1: The Arrival
by Steven Cerra
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 Mentioning my name in the same context as that of Gene Lees, the esteemed jazz writer, might be the height of presumption on my part, but in doing so in this instance, I intend to use it only as the basis for a speculative empathy that he and I might have in common. Because of his close and enduring friendship with Bill ...
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