By Derek Taylor
What makes a man start fires? The Minutemen, a California based post-punk improvisatory trio active during the Eighties, posited just such a question on an eponymous song. Is it an act of desperation? A response to debilitating ennui? A strange inversion of the creative impulse into a desire to destroy? It may seem a strange segue into an article on Elmo Hope, but given the degree of frustration and misfortune visited upon the pianist during his checkered career the query seems strangely apropos. Hope should have been recognized as a contender among the greats when he was alive. His circle of peers included Bud Powell, Thelonius Monk and Herbie Nichols, all of whom he could arguably compete with in terms of chops and compositional acumen. The former two were even early confreres and together the three men spent several fruitful stretches woodshedding together during their formative years.
Sadly all this nascent promise went for naught under the saddling yokes of substance abuse and self-doubt. Hope's work for the Prestige, Riverside and Contemporary labels chronicles this conundrum of tortured, self-sabotaging artist. Large gaps separate sessions both temporally and geographically and are sad testaments to pianist's itinerant lifestyle and his recurring struggles with staying clean. From a purely musical perspective however, the sessions are almost uniformly representative of Hope in his prime.
Meditations Hope's debut on the Prestige label, works as indicative litmus of the level of talent he could muster behind the keys. The cover, awash in a soothing cerulean patina, depicts him entering the Meditation Room at the United Nations, presumably in search of reflective focus. The music is of a similarly contemplative cast and ranges from astutely rendered balladry, without the syrup or saccharine, to crackling up-tempo numbers that match intricacy into a framework of ear bending velocity. His sidemen show themselves as well suited to the rigors Hope metes out. Both Ore and Jones would enjoy solid tenures with Monk, Sun Ra and other heavy hitters on the modernist scene. The bassist's supple, bebop-grounded lines regularly act as harmonic bumpers off of which Hope's melodic clusters ricochet, while Jones' versatility shines on the surfaces of his lively rhythmic fills, which spice up the action on many of the cuts. Standouts include the bustling tempo of the opener where Ore and Jones weave a percolating background for Hope's sparkling progressions and the slow lope of "Quit It" where the bassist's tone is positively huge and the leader hints at the angularity of his old pal Monk. One of the most enjoyable aspects of the album is that it actually fits satisfyingly into the strictures of its duration as a complete program of music with a beginning, middle and close. The effect is like that of a private recital captured in transparent fidelity by Rudy Van Gelder's spooling tape machines. That kind of esthetic seems increasingly rare in the compact disc age where recordings routinely stretch pass the hour mark simply in the interest of offering more bang for the buck.
Hope Meets Foster seeks to build on the excitement of the pianist's debut by ballooning the band to quintet size, but only succeeds in part. The album lacks the inherent freshness and cohesion of its near perfect predecessor, but offers up a different slice of Hope's genius by showcasing his arrangements for horns. Ore returns in the bass chair, but Jones's sticks are traded for another stalwart of countless Fifties bop sessions, the equally agile Art Taylor. Foster and Lee make able foils on the three cuts in which they appear together, but there varying approaches also create a few glitches. The opening track illustrates the difference both in title and content and saxophonist sockets himself into a hard blowing stance that is on the surface exciting, but slightly at odds with the more subtle backing of his partners. Hope's follows Foster's flanging, R&B-flavored salvo with a solo that is at once delicate and driving, as if to his sideman in a playful way the virtues of restraint. The players achieve a better balance on "Zarou," a composition that wears its exoticism self-consciously on its sleeve, but fortunately proves a winsome brew of harmonious hardbop. A unison head slides right into a series of solos starting with Lee's muted brass. Taylor kicks up some snare accents ahead of his ride cymbal-borne beat and Ore throbs expressively beneath. Foster's horn is imbued with an odd echo effect that though slight, is still very noticeable. "Fosterity," while seeming to be a feature for Foster actually accommodates the leader's musings first, followed by Lee. Finally the saxophonist has a say and his own statement toys with the recyclable bop head on the tune before opting for more improvisatory approach. Though certainly enjoyable on its own merits the record suggests that more could have been achieved if Hope had chosen a more adventurous path in his arranging and material.
Roughly seven months later, Hope returned to the Hackensack studios to record an all-star date featuring such Prestige mainstays as John Coltrane, Paul Chambers and Philly Joe Jones. Originally released as the tellingly-titled Informal Jazz, the four lengthy workouts have just such a feel, that of an after-hours blowing session that is slipshod from an ensemble standpoint, but still allows for solid solos. The basic arrangements and theme-based structures serve as fine vehicles for the participants, but as a cohesive and memorable date the session falls somewhat short.
Nearly three years would elapse before Hope would again enter a studio at the helm of a group. His hiatus, though lengthy and probably due in no small part to his discouraging personal habits, was marked by several recording ventures including strong showings under the leaderships of bassist Curtis Counce and saxophonist Harold Land. Perhaps he viewed his next date for Prestige as a chance to start from scratch by returning to the trio format of his debut. Whatever the circumstances behind its fruition the economically titled Trio is not circumspect on creativity or challenging interplay. The success is attributable to various elements including his decision to unveil a program dominated by his own clever compositions. Also important is the quality Hope's chosen compadres in the cause. Jimmy Bond's credentials with numerous West Coast outfits and a stint with Bird solidified his celebrity status amongst peers. Frank Butler was arguably the most conversant and critically under-recognized drummer operating in California, and highly in demand. Both men light flash fires beneath Hope's prancing chords throughout the date beginning with curiously-titled "B's A-Plenty," possibly a reference to the specific studio in which the trio recorded. The slow, gin-soaked tempo of "Barfly" sits in stark contrast. Butler's brushes caress his snare with soft touch and Bond builds a gradual pulse that is sparse and strong enough to accentuate Hope's gently the tumbling tinkle of Hope's dusky chords. "Eejah" and "Boa" share odd monikers and similarly relaxed complexities to their respective contents. Butler has a better showing on the latter where he's not relegated to keeping time with swishing brushes, and instead has a chance to exercise his sticks more vigorously. Bond also sounds liberated and ambles about the bottom end of his bridge with flexing fingers. Hope caps the session with the beautiful duet "Tranquility," a rare, at least for this date anyway, chance to hear Bond with bow.
The advent of Homecoming found Hope back in Harlem jamming on a pair of sessions with various peers that, at least critically, were recognized as among the figureheads of hardbop. Foster reunites with his old employer and the rest of the band is a diverse conference of New York-based talent including Blue Mitchell, whose plucky brass adds substantially to the surroundings. Heath also sounds in healthy form blowing comfortably on the changes, but with a tone warm enough to melt butter. Unfortunately old specters from Hope's all-star affair for Prestige resurface and the tracks with sextet end up feeling somewhat stilted through overly tight arrangements. The most obvious culprit is Jones, who sounds a shade too bombastic and lacks the rapport drummers like Butler shared with the pianist. Still, there are numerous fireworks set alight by Hope and the horns, and Heath holds down the harmonic anchor with both speed and grace. The pieces for trio, culled from the second session a week later, fare slightly better primarily because of the less crowded space afforded by the absence of the horns. Jones calms down a bit and listens more closely to the cues of his partners and Hope seems better grounded and more willing to take chances as on the harmonic obstacle course of "La Berthe," yet a tune dedicated in honor of his spouse. Sequencing of the compact disc reissue seems a little suspect in that the alternate takes are programmed directly after masters, but this is a minor quibble and the variety sustained by the sextet and trio versions of the group makes for fine encapsulation of Hope's approach to both formats.
Roughly four months later Hope returned to record, this time for Riverside, and the interim had allowed an intriguing idea to gestate in his mind. Opting for the then rare format of solo piano recital, Hope did this already daring move one better by choosing to include his wife Bertha in the program for a trio of piano duets. Hope-full, somewhat ironic given Hope's denied due, ended up being a rather unique offering for the era in which it was recorded, but the musical musings within its eight tracks strongly resist any sentiments of gimmickry or egotism. "Underneath" delivers an early and opportune distillation of Hope's ivory skills, evidencing the uncanny synchronicity he could muster between his dancing digits. Playing a layered colloquy between hands, with amicably syncopations the piece recalls elements of early stride, but far more modern right hand chordal flurries. Bertha's contributions on "Yesterdays," "Blues Left and Right" and "My Heart Stood Still" stand in good stead without cluttering the works and the couple surprises with the degree to which they listen to and compliment one another's lines. Still, it's the solo pieces where Hope's genius really has room to flourish. His lively deconstruction of "When Johnny Comes Marching Home" makes as strong a case as any for Hope's deserved stature as a pianist on par with his more famous peers. Taking the well-traveled tune's melody and parsing it into more expansive variants gilded with elements of melancholy and elegance Hope transforms the commonplace into a tour de force. "Most Beautiful" demonstrates the same standard of excellence on one of Hope's own, a touching ballad that tugs at both the emotions and the intellect. As a summation of his talents at the dawn of the Sixties, the set as a whole was and remains unrivaled.
Hope returned on record several times more in the ensuing years, including an interesting concert date captured at Rikers Island Prison, that paired him with John Gilmore and Ronny Boykins, both on loan from the Sun Ra Arkestra. What would become his final sessions were waxed for the Inner City label in May of 1966. He died, recognized among his peers, but largely viewed as a lesser talent in light of those he came up with during the development of bebop, perhaps because of ills and poor personal decisions that plagued him. The frustrations attendant with such slights were no doubt fuel to the fire of his discontent and dillusionment. Fortunately another sort of fire, the creative kind, burns on in the legacy left by his recordings. The paint a portrait more in line with what Hope always asserted through his art, that he was contender and should be considered as such. Like most jazz musicians his laurels were laid on his shoulders only after his demise, and even then sparingly.
Meditations
Tracks: It's A Lovely Day Today (3:38)/ All the Things You Are (3:22)/ Quit It (4:24)/ Lucky Strike (2:53)/ I Don't Stand (a Ghost of a Chance With You) (4:55)/ Huh (3:46)/ Falling In Love With Love (2:56)/ My Heart Stood Still (3:22)/ Elmo's Fire (2:33)/ I'm In the Mood For Love (4:24)/ Blue Mo (6:40).
Players: Elmo Hope- piano; John Ore- bass; Willie Jones- drums.
Recorded: July 28, 1955, Hackensack, NJ.
Hope Meets Foster
Tracks: Wail, Frank, Wail (6:26)/ Zarou (5:12)/ Fosterity (6:16)/ Georgia On My Mind (6:38)/ Shutout (5:48)/ Yaho (7:40).
Players: Elmo Hope- piano; Frank Foster- tenor saxophone; Freeman Lee- trumpet; John Ore- bass; Arthur Taylor- drums.
Recorded: October 4, 1955, Hackensack, NJ.
Informal Jazz: The All-Star Session
Tracks: Weeja, Polka Dots and Moonbeams, On It, Avalon.
Players: Donald Byrd- trumpet; Hank Mobley- tenor saxophone; John Coltrane- tenor saxophone; Elmo Hope- piano; Paul Chambers- bass; Philly Joe Jones- drums.
Recorded: May 7, 1956, Hackensack, NJ.
Trio
Tracks: B's A-Plenty (5:42)/ Barfly (6:15)/ Eejah (3:52)/ Boa (5:58)/ Something for Kenny (6:25)/ Like Someone In Love (7:28)/ Minor Bertha (4:46)/ Tranquility (2:57).
Players: Elmo Hope- piano; Jimmy Bond- bass; Frank Butler- drums.
Recorded: February 8, 1959, Los Angeles, CA.
Homecoming
Tracks: Moe, Jr. (take 4) (5:52)*/ Moe, Jr. (take 2) (4:37)*/ La Berthe (3:10)/ Eyes So Beautiful As Yours (6:28)*/ Homecoming (5:04)/ One Mo' Blues (6:44)/ A Kiss For My Love (take 5) (5:29)*/ A Kiss For My Love (take 4) (5:35)*/ Imagination (6:39).
Players: Elmo Hope- piano; Blue Mitchell- trumpet*; Jimmy Heath- tenor saxophone*; Frank Foster- tenor saxophone*; Percy Heath- bass; Philly Joe Jones- drums.
Recorded: June 22* & June 29, 1961, NYC.
Hope-Full
Tracks: Underneath (4:35)/ Yesterdays (5:18)*/ When Johnny Comes Marching Home (4:58)/ Most Beautiful (5:03)/ Blues Left and Right (6:05)*/ Liza (3:32)/ My Heart Stood Still (5:23)*/ Moonbeams (4:50).
Players: Elmo Hope- piano; Bertha Hope- piano*.
Recorded: November 9 & 14, 1961, NYC.
