By Rob Moore
On July 3rd, 2002, Ray Brown passed away at the age of 75. When visiting with today's players and vocalists of Jazz, the conversation inevitably turns to Jazz History. Vocalist Karrin Allison will cite the influence of John Coltrane. John Pizzarelli speaks with first-hand reverence of the influence of Frank Sinatra. I have a feeling that if we follow these chains of Jazz influence back in time, many of them lead to a handful of people: Billie Holiday, Coleman Hawkins and Duke Ellington among them. In any case, a conversation with Ray Brown was slightly different in that he was, in and of himself, Jazz History. From his gigs with Charlie Parker and Count Basie, those amazing years with Oscar Peterson, marriage to Ella Fitzgerald, recent work with his late friend Milt Jackson, even his work with many of the new stars of Jazz...Ray Brown had been there and done that.
The last time I saw him, I asked Ray Brown about these accomplishments. He drew a deep breath and smiled. For him, it was about the here and now, as he was at the time crossing the country to perform in support of his most recent release. Yet when he took a moment, he could still recall in detail the humor and grandeur of Coleman Hawkins. He talked about crossing the country in a caravan with Hawkins in the middle of the last century. The band was already packed, checked out and prepared to set out for a distant city for a gig later that night. Hawkins appeared in a bathrobe in the hotel lobby, proclaiming, "What's the rush? I'm going back to sleep." Brown described racing to the next city, checking in, and finding Hawkins waiting outside his room, in the same bathrobe. "Where you guys BEEN?", Hawkins chided. But "that was Coleman Hawkins", according to Brown. "We never did figure out how he drove there ahead of us, but he did. There was his car, parked in front when we pulled up."
My favorite story was the one about how Frank Sinatra insisted that Ray Brown be housed, fed and seated in the same area as the rest of the Sinatra band in the segregated clubs of old. To hear Brown tell it, Sinatra was militant about these situations. "You sit by me," Sinatra would insist, daring anyone to discriminate against anyone in his presence. Though we've all heard and read many "Sinatra" stories over the years, we may not have heard all of Ray Brown's stories.
There's another sad, sweet memory about hanging out with Dinah Washington the night before she died. In fine spirits, she cooked a very late night breakfast for Brown and his friends. Ray Brown still remembered the menu. Dinah Washington would be dead in 24 hours, from an accidental overdose including a combination of diet pills and alcohol.
Of his former wife Ella Fitzgerald, Brown said "it was just like Bing Crosby once said. There are singers and then there's Ella...she was the best." There was a certain "Forest Gump" quality to Brown's life, when you think of where he had been and when he was there. With Charlie Parker out west and in New York, for example. "Now, Bird could play anything...just pick up and play", Brown recalled with a broad smile, apparently still impressed. Brown made a huge impact with "Jazz at the Philharmonic", and yet he was a part of the line-up initially by accident. He showed up to watch, and got tabbed to fill in for a missing player.
The life and times of Ray Brown represent the past, present, and future of Jazz. Through all the decades, Ray Brown was there, providing the bass line, helping create the art. He continued to record, produce and tour until the end, working with young stars and fellow legends alike. He kept looking ahead, playing in the present, preserving the past. But if you got him to sit down for a few minutes, you might have been amazed by his journey, and by your good fortune to have heard him tell you about it .
Ray Brown also preserved the mystery that is part of the intrigue of Jazz. I asked him about Billie Holiday. He smiled softly, raised his hand as if to gently signal "stop". "Not today," he said, "I don't think so...not today." There is some Jazz history only Ray Brown knew. It was the treasure of seven decades, and he got to keep it. Rightfully so.
Visit Rob Moore's website at http://www.privatejazz.com
