Derek Taylor
February 2002
Combing the Catalog
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Four Mallets and the Truth
By Derek Taylor
Cite Red Norvo as one of the founding fathers of free jazz and you’re likely to be laughed at by fans of the idiom. But from a historical perspective to do so would not be prevarication. According to Gunther Schuller, himself a revered composer, chronicler and visionary in the more experimental strains of the music, Norvo tilled the now fertile furrows of free improvisation as early as 1933 with a forward thinking piece called “Dance of the Octopus” (available on a compilation of the same name from the British Hep label). Waxed for the conservative Brunswick imprint and featuring the then unheard of instrumentation of xylophone/marimba, bass clarinet, guitar and bass, it was an anomaly of its age. When stacked against all that’s transpired in its substantial wake the tune may seem tame, but careful attenuation to its four-malleted prelude reveals a musical exposition steeped in startlingly fresh ideas.
As with the work of other cerebral avant gardists like Lennie Tristano and Jimmy Giuffre, Norvo’s innovations were subtle and often couched in existing musical forms. His ingenious breakthroughs with melodic improvisation helped establish a sturdy niche for his instrument in a jazz ensemble setting, but such advancements were frequently affected in commercial surroundings. All star combos and orchestras were his usual bread and butter during the Swing Era, but ensuing drought brought on by the Bop revolution and the explosion of Rhythm and Blues forced a reappraisal. Both economic and artistic reasons brought about the birth of his trio, an aggregate of shifting personnel that would quietly once again set a series of precedents. The original lineup formed for a tour to the west coast in 1950, included bassist Red Kelly and guitarist Mundell Lowe. Tal Farlow replaced Lowe after a stop in Wisconsin and once the trio settled into a regular engagement in Los Angeles a youthful Charles Mingus assumed bass duties for Kelly. Fortunately this incarnation of the trio had several opportunities to record over its two-year life span (much of which is available on a compilation from Savoy). Mingus departed in 52’ making room for Red Mitchell who stayed with Norvo through the dissolution of the trio in 55’ and shortly after Mitchell’s conscription Raney joined the band in place of the vacating Farlow.
Through all the various personnel changes Norvo piloted a steady ship finding ample time to perform and, thankfully, record. The Red Norvo Trios gathers the grist of three sessions. Fantasy released two of them on an album of the name, while the third found circulation as the singular The Red Norvo Trio. A sole deletion from this latter session, the curiously titled “Puby La Keg” is contained on the single disc reissue of the album. But non- Norvo completists are likely to be satisfied with the contents of the compilation.
One of the immediately exhilarating aspects of Norvo’s trios is lush nature of their collective sound. The seemingly sparse instrumentation of strings and malleted planks gives rise to a verdant dynamic scope, which is further compounded by the players’ versatile interplay. Norvo is the primary melodic voice weaving a confluence of lines around the stout harmonic anchor of Mitchell’s plucked figures, while Raney delivers chordal support. But just as likely are the role reversals of Raney as lead, picking warm single note runs, or Mitchell for that matter, tugging out nimble variations of a tune’s theme. It’s this shared resolve to routinely subvert the traditional roles ascribed their instruments that makes the trio so invigorating. “Blues For Tiny” offers an early and opportune example as the three begin in a three-way contrapuntal conference of voices. Raney takes the reins first sculpting an agile melodic commentary flanked by the Norvo’s glowing tones. Mitchell seamlessly steps to the fore picking up where the guitarist left off loosing a rushing cascade of rotund reverberating notes. Finally it’s the leader’s turn to speak his peace and he rolls out a textured carpet of clusters before the final unison summation. All in the space of three minutes and some change.
Familiar and in many cases threadbare swing standards are completely recast in the illumination of the vibrant instrumentation. Mitchell’s stout solo on “Somebody Loves Me” buttressed by the banjo-like strumming of Raney is but one example of many. Pitting mallets against plectrum and fingers on the fast break reading of “’Deed I Do” Norvo achieves a velocity and precision that hearkens back the style of his earlier Savoy work with Farlow and Mingus. But the speed of their respective lines detracts nothing from the clarity of their presentation or resolution. Standards aren’t the only settings for the trio’s catalytic interactions as the tricky intervals of Hal Overton’s luminous “J9 Hate K9” and the Mitchell’s muscular pacing during the concluding portion of the piece sets his strings to rattling in their housings.
Farlow returns to the fold on the final session of the disc. Known for his agility and alacrity he’s surprisingly sedate on the four tracks, contrasting with the edgier, more intricate style favored by his predecessor. His clipped chording on the rollicking rendition of “Tea For Two” allow Norvo and Mitchell avenues for expressive locutions on the rondo melody while his softer string phrasings fit beautifully into the melancholy mood of “Lullaby of the Leaves.” Farlow is back in familiar form on the playfully velocious version of the Tin Pan Alley classic “Sweet, Georgia Brown,” where Norvo posits a perspective latter championed by Sonny Rollins. Even the most prosaic songs can contain fresh improvisatory potential when wielded by the proper hands. Cursory attention of the trio’s demulcent sounds with casual ear may yield only the trappings of a cocktail combo, but deeper delving uncovers a reservoir of creativity tapped in their repartee that few of their musical peers could match.
Music to Listen to Red Norvo By, Norvo’s 1957 session for Contemporary, has more in common with his pioneering forays for Brunswick than perhaps the trio. From the title’s comedic twist on the then common ‘mood music’ craze to the actual music assembled for the date the album marks another apogee for Norvo as artist and band leader. Commissioning classical composer Bill Smith to score a suite for sextet Norvo also incorporated compositions by a clutch of other Third Stream modernists including Lennie Niehaus and the unjustly obscure Duane Tatro. Both in terms of voicings and repertoire the group assembled to breathe life into the charts fits Norvo’s needs like a glove.
Smith’s ligneous clarinet shares the frontline with Colette, a multi-instrumentalist of high merit who wields solely flute for the session. A ‘rhythm section’ in regards to instrumentation only the triumvirate of Kessel, Mitchell and Manne assume a multitude of roles in the music’s execution. The drummer’s sleek sticks emphasize substance over flash and are particularly significant in fleshing out the often-precarious melodic structures of the compositions with spacious forward momentum. Mitchell’s lithe fingers work in a similar fashion juggling and juxtaposing elastic tempos by way of resonant walking figures. The spiraling high speed intervals of Kessel’s “Red Sails” put everyone through rigorous paces as an ascendant collectively-voiced theme regularly dissolves and reforms in the face of lubricious individual solos. Mitchell and Manne miss nary a beat paving out a rhythmic path along which the others race. Anchoring the group with a robust walking line on “The Red Broom” Mitchell sustains a harmonic center as Manne sweeps house with swishing brushes. Tatro’s reflective “Rubricity” deals heavily in atmospherics taking full advantage of the group’s wide tonal spectrum. The piece’s floating almost pensive thematic nucleus vies with interludes that are ripe with emotive ÃÂÃÂÃÂélan.
Smith’s sectional “Divertimento” seems a touch overwrought in places, but its four interlocking hinges work remarkably well given sometimes diffuse complexity and girth. Inspired more by Classical conventions than the other tracks and therefore more reliant on composed structures over improvisation the suite has greater sense of premeditation and less spontaneity. “1st Movement” gallops along a path of carefully placed harmonic obstacles and sacrifices much needed subtlety in the name of speed. Subsequently the players seem embroiled in an exercise more concerned with in expending excess energy than exploring relational possibilities. “2nd Movement” takes better advantage of the sextet’s inherent dynamic range by combining thoughtful teams of instruments in less florid surroundings. Collette guides the action on much of the “3rd Movement” threading feathery phrases alone or in tandem with Smith and using the spacious support of his band mates as a trampoline for melodic investigation. The suite’s concluding movement is somewhat anticlimactic and though there’s some beautifully layered interplay, particularly on the part of Mitchell and Manne, the comparative simplicity of the piece makes it seem as if Smith chose the route of least resistance.
Evidence of the avant-garde can crop in the guise of unexpected faces and places. Whereas many musical revolutionaries choose the path of affecting change from the outside in, abandoning conventions and often substituting their own, Norvo took the transverse tack of an insurgent. Working within the overarching frameworks of swing and later bop he fashioned a personal musical manifesto on par with the more overtly subversive advances of many of his peers. His success in the arena of experimentation is due in no small part to the quality of sidemen he enlisted to make his music manifest. Like their employer many of them rarely receive their due these days and it’s a shame given the strength of their contributions to the music. Pondering Norvo’s place from the perspectives presented by these discs makes the admiration voiced by such current modernist composer/improvisers as Guillermo Gregorio and the venerable Schuller easier to comprehend and commend.
The Red Norvo Trio
Tracks: Bernie’s Tune (5:31)/ J9 Hate K9 (3:12)/ Out of Nowhere (4:14)/ Crazy Rhythm (4:53)/ Prelude to a Kiss (4:01)/ Puby La Keg (4:58)/ Everything I’ve Got Belongs to You (5:33).
Players: Red Norvo- vibes; Jimmy Raney- guitar; Red Mitchell- bass. Recorded: March, 1954, Detroit, MI.
The Red Norvo Trios
Tracks: Can’t We Be Friends (3:24)ÃÂÃÂÃÂð/ Blues for Tiny (3:23)ÃÂÃÂÃÂð/ Somebody Loves Me (3:32)ÃÂÃÂÃÂð/ ‘Deed I Do (3:03)ÃÂÃÂÃÂð/ Our Love is Here to Stay (2:55)ÃÂÃÂÃÂð/ Signal (3:02)ÃÂÃÂÃÂð/ You Are too Beautiful (5:14)ÃÂÃÂÃÂð/ The Best Thing for You (2:51)ÃÂÃÂÃÂð/ Bernie’s Tune (5:31)ÃÂÃÂÃÂð/ J9 Hate K9 (3:10)̃/ Out of Nowhere (4:14)̃/ Crazy Rhythm (4:23)̃/ Prelude to a Kiss (4:09)̃/ Everything I’ve Got (5:33)̃/ Just One of Those Things (3:15)̃/ Farewell to Alms (5:21)/ Tea For Two (5:04)/ Lullaby of the Leaves (5:23)/ Sweet Georgia Brown (3:55).
Players: Red Norvo- vibes; Red Mitchell- bass; Jimmy Raney- guitar; Tal Farlow- guitar*. Recorded: September 1953ÃÂÃÂÃÂð, March 1954̃ & October, 1955*.
Music to Listen to Red Norvo By
Tracks: Poeme (5:53)/ Red Sails (3:51)/ The Red Room (4:37)/ Rubricity (4:12)/ Paying the Dues Blues (5:52)/ Divertimento: 1st Movement (4:18)- 2nd Movement (6:42)- 3rd Movement (4:43)- 4th Movement (4:18).
Players: Red Norvo- vibes; Buddy Collette- flute; Bill Smith- clarinet; Barney Kessel- guitar; Red Mitchell- bass; Shelly Manne- drums. Recorded: January 26th, February 9th, March 2, 1957, Los Angeles.
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