By Don Williamson

ALL ABOUT JAZZ: Who's in Universal Language now?

VALERY PONOMAREV: At the moment, I have Tony Leone on the drums, and on the bass I have Sean McGloin. On the tenor saxophone I have Tim Armacost or Michael Karn, I have Sid Simmons on piano, and I have Freddie Bryant on the guitar right now. In general, they're all incredible musicians. For example, this past Saturday, we played in Hartford, Connecticut and featured the legendary Benny Golson on saxophone. We also featured a bass player who is like a legend around Hartford: Paul Brown. Tony Leone was on drums. We have an incredible piano player from Hartford, Alex Nakhimovskii. His story is similar to mine, but his life was a little easier. He came to the United States with his mom about fifteen years ago. They lived in Queens before moving to Hartford. He went to the Hartford School Of Music. He and Tony studied under Jackie McLean. They displayed incredible virtuosity, knowledge of music and emotional maturity during the performance.

AAJ: Universal Language still the same band, though, isn't it?

VP: Yes. I formed the band right after I left Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers. Through the years, different people have played in Universal Language. In the beginning, it was Kevin Eubanks, Ralph Moore, Dennis Irwin, and Victor Jones. We were never recorded when the band was first formed. I had Kenny Washington on drums for my first recording. I had an incredible piano player, Hideki Takao. Everybody thought that, given more time, Hideki would be world famous and would have played with the best bands in the jazz world. Unfortunately for everybody and particularly for him, he got tendonitis of the left hand right after recording Means Of Identification with me. He had to quit music.

AAJ: What's he doing now?

VP: He's has a job in computers for a Japanese firm. Financially, he's very well off. But in regard to fulfilling his natural calling, so to speak, he couldn't play piano any more. The last time I saw him was maybe ten years ago when he came to one of our gigs. It's really sad that such an incredible talent was wasted. He was sitting there at the gig, and I said, "Oh, wait a minute. That's Hideki." When I went up to see him, he was crying. It was really terrible. As great as he played on a recording, he was absolutely phenomenal when he played live.

All of my six recordings are on Reservoir. My latest one is A Star For You. I made it with Bob Berg on saxophone and Billy Hart on drums. I'm very proud to say that all of my CD's got the highest ratings in The All-Music Guide To Jazz. Half my CD's got five stars. It is characteristic in modern times that jazz music is represented at its best on small labels. That's the truth. Small labels like Reservoir can dedicate themselves to honest-to-God beautiful music. They have recorded a lot of incredible CD's and musicians. Big labels are more concerned with producing big stars, which is not really honest, I would say.

AAJ: You had said that Alex didn't have it as hard as you did. What did you mean by that?

VP: I had to escape from Russia, and he left Russia legally. He missed the part of struggling to establish himself in the country. His parents had taken care of that. He grew up and went to school. I didn't go to a school; I studied jazz all on my own in Russia. I found records on the black market. Alex was in America when he was studying jazz music. But the end result is that he's an incredible musician.

AAJ: How did you hear about jazz in Russia?

VP: I heard it on The Voice Of America. It was jammed a lot but got through anyway. Plus, jazz just finds its way to the listeners, even though Russia was sealed from the rest of the world. Jazz was considered to be a foreign influence. At one time, this kind of attitude was relaxed, but jazz music was still frowned upon. Jazz was featured in local jazz cafes, which were off limits to the general public. It was only for foreigners. The authorities tried to fool the West by showing them, "Look, we don't forbid jazz. We have it right here."

AAJ: Did you play in any of those clubs?

VP: Yes, I started playing there when I was twenty. That was actually an incredible achievement for a twenty-year-old, Valery Ponomarev. The best musicians in all of Russia probably were playing there. And they invited me to play with them. Those guys were great talents, but none of them even made it to the West.

AAJ: That was Vadim Sakun?

VP: Right right. He still lives in Russia, but he's approaching old age actually. He was a great piano player by Russian standards. A record was made of the older participants at one of the Russian festivals. From '65 to '69, they had a festival every year, and then they closed. Authorities closed the cafes too. That was during the hard-core Soviet Union. Classical music always remained. If you look into Russian history, after 1917 authorities were ready to close all cultural programs, including ballet, literature and classical music. They thought there was too much free expression. They were just about to take Pushkin off of the shelves! He was one of the greatest writers of all times. But jazz has suffered all the way through twentieth-century Russian history until 1990. The restraints on jazz music were slowly relaxed in the 1980's. But as far as proper education and cultural exchange and travel for a musician were concerned, it was still impossible until 1990. Now, musicians can go back and forth. I can tell you that now there will be more talents coming out of Russia. Actually, Russia is very rich with human resources.

AAJ: But didn't the authorities allow Benny Goodman, Gary Burton and Chick Corea to perform in Russia to create an interest in jazz?

VP: Yes, but it was like a sensation. Gerry Mulligan was there in '66 or '67. But it was due only to the reason that his wife [Sandy Dennis] was a movie star. She went to the Moscow Movie Festival, and he just went with her. When the musicians found out that Gerry Mulligan was in Moscow, they delegated some official people to invite him to a club. He didn't even have his saxophone with him. We musicians found him a very good alto, and he had his own mouthpiece. So he was able to play with us. It was great. When Duke Ellington was in Moscow in '72, his shows were very widely advertised. It was as if there was a double standard of treatment. At first, his concerts were in almost like a closed circle of concert halls. The tickets were distributed before the general public had a chance to buy them. The people who weren't really into jazz music received those tickets. The people who were starving for the music didn't have a chance to buy those tickets. In the end, Ellington performed in a concert for 22,000 people at the Sports Arena. It was filled to capacity. But then again, what can you hear in a sports arena?

AAJ: Did you learn drums first?

VP: Yes. I love drums. My mother was like, "Do whatever you want." She didn't think my interest in drums would be serious. But I've played drums in bands and have played them for gigs. When I was six years old, I started playing bugle in the boys' summer camps. Years later, when I was playing drums in the band, the trumpet player next to me put the trumpet within my reach. So from my drum stool, I reached for the trumpet, picked it up and blew a tone in it. At that moment-I'll remember it forever-everybody stopped and turned to me. The band leader was standing in front of the band, and he showed a look of surprise and appreciation. Everybody said, "What was this?" Then they said, "That was Val!" [Laughs] The band leader told me that I had a beautiful tone and that I should practice. Trumpet I loved anyway. He didn't have to persuade me to practice trumpet after he gave me one.

AAJ: Did you own a trumpet after that?

VP: At that point I had a trumpet given to me. To her absolute dismay then, my mother realized that I was a trumpet player. She was crying when she realized that. But she finally realized that that was my calling and that I didn't want to do anything else. So she bought me a trumpet. I was studying with a very good teacher. Then I went to music college in Moscow and got all excellent marks. I was proud of that. Two years later, I discovered jazz music, and I couldn't stay in college any more. I studied jazz music all on my own.

AAJ: Did you have to pay any tuition?

VP: No, colleges in Russia are all free. But you can't get into a college there if you don't have talent. For the music, you have to display definite natural inclination. If you do, then they accept you and teach you. If you don't, there's no point in wasting your time.

AAJ: You first heard jazz in college.

VP: Yes. Actually, I wasn't even nineteen yet. I heard Clifford Brown when I was already playing my first professional gigs. I knew right then, right there that this was the music I wanted to play, and nothing else. I still feel the same way!

AAJ: Did you learn jazz by imitating Clifford Brown or by using him as an inspiration?

VP: I learned by transcribing and analyzing his solos one after another, one after another. That's what gave me the access to this jazz language-rhythm, harmony and melody. After that, more and more musicians I discovered. After Clifford Brown, I heard Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers. Moanin' with Lee Morgan was incredible. I played that record at home day in, day out. Soon after, I was able to sing all of the solos from the whole record by all of the musicians, including the Jymie Merritt solo.

AAJ: When you lived in Russia, did you ever think you would play with Blakey?

VP: I was dreaming of it. In my mind then, I was part of the band. It's like you have a picture in your mind, and you have to figure it out. You have to make it real. Now when I teach, I tell my students that you have to have a clear picture of what you want. Then your mind will bring you to a realization of that picture. You can't, for example, play beautiful sounds if you don't hear them in your mind. I give my students the illustration that if you want to get something out of the computer, you have to program it first. Then you click on the button and open the program. It's exactly the same with music. You have to program your mind and have a beautiful tone in your mind that you can play.

AAJ: How did you get the jazz records in Russia?

VP: Some of them from the black market. But most of the music was on tapes I copied from other people who had a chance to buy the black market records or who had music on tape. I had actually a very good collection of tapes. I also recorded from short band radio when the government chose not to jam music programs. They jammed foreign news programs totally, but sometimes they let music programs go.

AAJ: You heard him on Voice Of America?

VP: Yes, and that was incredible. I could talk about Willis Conover for days. The programs he put together inspired me. Only years later did I learn that Willis Conover had to struggle all of his life in order to play music that he wanted. Authorities tried to make him play something else. When he died, there was a big concert in his honor in Washington D.C., and it was transmitted throughout the whole world, except for the United States.

AAJ: Did you support yourself as a musician after college?

VP: I was a full-time musician, but I wasn't making much money. I was still living with my mother, and I kept on studying music. The thought of making money never occurred to me until many years later.

AAJ: What type of work did your mother do?

VP: She was an economist with the Tass News Agency. She's retired now, but she still works as an economist.

AAJ: So you worked as a musician until you decided to defect.

VP: As I said, the dream of working with Art Blakey was always in my mind. When there was opportunity to escape from Russia, I did.

AAJ: How did you defect?

VP: It involved a scheme with the visas to get out of the Soviet Union. I got a legal visa, but I got it illegally. So with those papers, I left Russia. Once I escaped, I told authorities that I wanted to go to America. My first stop was in Vienna, Austria. From there, the International Rescue Committee (IRC) picked me up. The committee takes care of people who run away from their governments. From Austria, I moved to another branch of the International Rescue Committee in Italy. There, musicians knew me! That was the shock. The Italians had a copy of the record I made at the festival in Russia. Those guys were listening to my tape, and someone made the comment, "This guy is living in Austria. We know him." And they were like, "Oh, let's bring him here." They helped me get to Italy, and I was tranferred to the Italian branch of the same worldwide rescue organization. I joined those Italian musicians, and I played with them.

AAJ: How did you get to the U.S.?

VP: The organization applied on my behalf, and the government considers every case and decides if a person should enter the United States or not. Almost everybody who applied received permission to enter.

AAJ: Was there a place for you to stay when you came to the U.S.?

VP: Yeah, they rented an apartment for me and paid the first couple of months' rent. Then they found me work.

AAJ: What kind of work was that?

VP: They said, "We can't pay for your lodging forever. And we can't see you making enough money as a jazz musician to pay for your rent." I of course had my own thoughts. But I said, "I don't want anybody to feed me. I'll do whatever you say." So they found me a job in the pots and pans department at an old, big department store. Sure enough, six months later, I handed in my resignation, so to speak. By then, I was already a full-time, professional musician.

AAJ: Where was your first job as a musician?

VP: I got my very first jazz gig about a week or two after I came to the United States. It was at Churchill's at 83rd Street and Third Avenue. Matthew Gee, the trombone player, heard me play and said, "Man, you ought to play here too." So I started gigging there almost right away, but the pay was terrible. Half a year later, I knew enough musicians to be part of the New York scene.

AAJ: How did you join Blakey?

VP: I asked for permission to sit in with the band when it was playing at The Five Spot. He heard me play and was amazed that I could play in the exact style of his band and with the exact style of Clifford Brown. He was shocked. I had traveled so far from the Iron Curtain. He told me right away that I would be playing in his band. Later, at the end of '76, I got the call and joined the band. I was with The Jazz Messengers for four years and recorded eleven albums with Art Blakey. I traveled all over the world with Art, and it was great.

AAJ: You replaced Bill Hardman?

VP: Right. When I had to leave, I brought Wynton Marsalis into the band. I introduced him to Art Blakey, and I insisted that Wynton sit in because I needed a sub when I was about to leave the band. He didn't want to sit in at first. He said, "I'm a classical player. I don't want to be a jazz musician." James Williams had told me, "You may want to talk to [Wynton]. He's young, but he plays incredible trumpet." James introduced me to Wynton. I met him during a break at a club in New York. Wynton was only eighteen years of age, but he knew so much about trumpet! I was amazed. I was very anxious to hear the kid play. He was incredible. I wanted Art to have the best sub possible.

AAJ: Blakey didn't want you to leave.

VP: True, he was very upset. But I had to leave my wife too much. We're divorced now, but she was pregnant at that time with my son, Paul. I practically had to stay at home because the pregnancy was difficult. Also, she was almost totally helpless in communicating with other people, although she speaks English now. I just knew in my mind that if something had happened to her, I would have never forgiven myself. I couldn't have lived with the guilt. As hard as it was, I had to tell Art that I was leaving. He asked me to reconsider. After my first attempt to leave, I rejoined the band a few months later and went on tour. Then, I had to say again, "Art Blakey, I'm sorry. I have to leave." From that point on, my New York life started to grow because until then I was traveling all of the time.

AAJ: Did you meet your wife in Russia?

VP: Yes, we're both from Russia. We both left Russia through the same scheme of forging papers. We flew on the same plane out of Russia.

AAJ: Were you married in Russia?

VP: Yes, we were already married. When it was time for me to leave Russia, the forged papers couldn't be arranged for just one person. Since I was married, they had to be arranged for two persons. She said, "No, I'm going." If she hadn't come along, I would have been in jail automatically.

AAJ: In a Cadence interview, [Valery Ponomarev: Interview, by Bob Rusch, February, 1985, page 11] you said that you had to watch what you say. You don't have to be as careful now?

VP: Now is no problem. I go to Russia every year. On the first of January, I'm flying to Moscow for a vacation. I was not able to go to Moscow for seventeen years. The first time I went back to Moscow was when the Soviet Union collapsed. In 1990, I was part of an international jazz festival. I was there twice each in '96, '97, '98 and '99. Most likely, my band be playing in Moscow again in May, but I'll have Jimmy Cobb on drums. I played there with Jimmy Cobb in October, and that experience was sensational. The Moscow Conservatory is one of the world's greatest halls. All the great artists have performed there. Our concert was arranged for that Conservatory, which holds 1400 people. It was totally packed to the doors. There was no standing room there.

AAJ: Was anyone else in your band?

VP: It wasn't my band really. We were guests of Russian musicians. One is an incredible alto player, George Garanian. The piano player and bass player were much younger guys. It was a beautiful event. Right after that, Billy Cobb and I flew to Greece and played a one-week engagement there with my full band. From May 4 to 20, we'll do a tour in central Europe, starting in Germany. Most likely, we'll go to Central America after that.

AAJ: It's too bad that you aren't more widely known so that more people can hear your music.

VP: That's the nature of the music business-quote/unquote. In general, big corporations can't dedicate their resources to everybody. As far as stardom is concerned, that eludes me, so to speak. I do have a chance to play high-profile concerts.

AAJ: How did you choose the name of Universal Language?

VP: Jazz music was always the universal language to me. If I understood it in Russia behind the Iron Curtain, then I knew everybody could understand it. When I left the Soviet Union, I found that jazz musicians were already playing their hearts out in Italy. When I toured with Art Blakey, I found how much jazz music is loved all over the world. Actually, if it weren't for foreign countries, jazz music would be in much worse shape. The United States alone cannot support jazz. Jazz was begun here in America, but now it belongs to the whole world.

AAJ: In your first band, you had yourself from Russia, Ralph Moore from England, Hideki Takao from Japan and Kenny Washington from America. That's proof of the concept.

VP: Any country in the world can produce incredible musicians. They are all over Europe, in Japan, in Africa and now in Russia, of course. I had a tour with Benny Golson two years ago, and one of the cities on the tour was Novosibirsk, Siberia. After the concert, we were in the café waiting for our train. Beside the café was a jam session by local guys. Just look on the map where Siberia is. It's so far from everything! Outside the café, the temperature was 30 degree below zero, but inside, the music was hot. It was burning. Even though I'm from Russia, I was shocked to hear those guys play.

AAJ: Do you think that jazz has a spiritual basis?

VP: Of course, it does. Even in Russia, they still couldn't destroy Russian religion. The people still go to church. Once music is expressed, it touches people all over the world. Above all, jazz music is the expression of emotions. People have the same emotions all over the world. That's why this music has become the universal language. It appeals to people, no matter how far in life they travel. People still love this music.