Toni Harper, a child singer in Los Angeles in the late 1940s who grew up to become a superb jazz stylist in the mid-1950s and early 1960s, recorded with Oscar Peterson, Buddy Bregman, Marty Paich and many other leading jazz artists only to quit the business at age 29, died on February 10. She was 86.
Toni was active into her late years and corresponded with me often by email. She was upbeat, mischievous and remarkably modest.
Her first recording session came at age 10 backed by Eddie Beal and His Sextet in 1947. By 1949, at age 12, she was in several movies. Here's her big hit, Candy Store Blues...
Here's Toni on the Ed Sullivan Show singing Swing Low, Sweet Chariot...
And here's Miss In-between Blues...
In 1951, Toni recorded Peculiar Kind of Feeling with Harry James. Go here...
In 1955, Toni recorded Taking a Chance on Love with Dizzy Gillespie for Verve. Go here...
That same year, she recorded an entire album with pianist Oscar Peterson for Verve. Go here...
In 1956, she recorded with the Buddy Bregman Orchestra for Verve. The band: Toni Harper (vcl) acc by Milt Bernhart, Joe Howard, Lloyd Ulyate and Si Zentner (tb); Wilbur Schwartz, Maurice Stein, Ted Nash, Bob Cooper and Dale Issenhuth (reeds); Paul Smith (p); Barney Kessel (g); Joe Mondragon (b) and Alvin Stoller (d), with strings (8 vln, violas, 2 cellos, harp) and Buddy Bregman (dir). Go here...
In 1959, Toni recorded Lady Lonely for RCA with Marty Paich. The band: Toni Harper (vcl); acc by Jack Sheldon (tp); Vince DeRosa, John Cave, James Deckler and Dick Perissi (fhr); Art Pepper (as); Eddie Beal (p); Bill Pitman (g); Joe Mondragon (b) and Mel Lewis (d), with Ann Stockton (harp); strings (9 vln, 3 violas, 2 cellos) and Marty Paich (dir). Go here...
Next came Night Mood for RCA in 1960, with a knockout band: Conte Candoli, Dick Collins, Stu Williamson and Al Porcino (tp); Frank Rosolino, Bob Fitzpatrick and Pete Carpenter (tb); Red Callender (tu); Art Pepper and Bud Shank (as); Bill Perkins and Jack Montrose (ts); Jack Nimitz (bar); Jimmy Rowles (p); Larry Bunker (vib); Bill Pitman (g); Joe Mondragon (b) and Mel Lewis (d), with Marty Paich (arr,cond). Go here...
In 1963, Toni accompanied the Cannonball Adderley Sextet on tour in Japan. Here's Toni live, with Adderley's trio, singing One Note Samba...
Toni Harper told me about her experiences recording with the artists mentioned above. Her recollections follow.
Here's Toni on Oscar Peterson...
“When I recorded Toni Harper Sings with the Oscar Peterson Trio for Verve Records, I had known Verve’s owner and producer Norman Granz from earlier years. I had appeared as a singer on the radio in Los Angeles since 1945 and had performed at many benefit shows Norman had put together. So when Norman approached my agent to record with Oscar, I was overjoyed. I already knew bassist Ray Brown from singing around town, and Norman’s suggestion to record seemed like a natural next step for my career. The point of the session was to show that I had grown up, that I was no longer a little kid singing Cinderella Baby and could now sing more jazzy, adult material.
“For years, whenever I thought back on that 1955 recording session, I could believe I was just 16 years old at the time. I probably had that memory because during the session, Oscar and Ray playfully teased me by saying, 'Sixteen and never been kissed.' In truth, I guess I was 17 years then, not 16, which is still pretty young. They were kidding me because they knew I had had a very sheltered existence musically up until that point.
“Having been singing and performing professionally since age eight, I had plenty of confidence. But recording Toni Harper Sings was quite a departure for me. I had started my career singing songs like Candy Store Blues and Dolly’s Lullaby. Then in 1955, there I was singing songs like Love for Sale with the great Oscar Peterson Trio. And yet, some members of my family weren’t too happy about that. They wondered what I could possibly know about such things. And to sing about it?
“For me and for Oscar, Ray and Herb Ellis, the session was about the music. The tunes, the melodies, the notes—all just about the music. Norman selected the songs, as I recall. I remember I had sheet music, since nearly all of his choices were unknown to me—even though most were standards. That's how sheltered I was. But in those days, my mind could instantly photograph the music I looked over.
“To start, Oscar played a song through while I listened to the melody and read over the lyrics. Then we found a key that was comfortable, and I sang down the song to become familiar with it. Next we picked a tempo and just recorded. It was that simple. I recall Oscar was helpful and encouraging but firm. He had a very gentle way of moving things along. But I never felt hurried. I never had a sense of being pressed or pressured by anyone. It was a relaxed, fun time.
“In some cases, all we needed was one take on songs. That’s the way Norman wanted it. In other cases, like with I Could Write a Book, we needed multiple takes to get a master, probably because I had never heard the tune before. Also, the tempo on that song was slow, and I had to learn the song and make sense of what I was saying as I read the lyrics.
“It was a meeting of music-making minds. Oscar was the kindest, most gentle, soft-spoken, fun person. I sat on the piano bench beside him as we went over the tunes and ran them down so I could become familiar with the feel we chose.
“All of the guys were impressed that I could keep up with them. Once I heard that, everything was pure enjoyment going forward. I had to feel that they really liked working with me to relax completely. As a singer, I was never intimidated by anything. Even singing before huge audiences, like at Carnegie Hall, didn’t rattle me. I also wasn’t awestruck by anyone. I viewed the session matter of factly, as a job that had to be done.
“I had had the luxury of starting young, which always gives you confidence and an edge. When I was four years old, I worked in movies as an extra. I remember in one film, there was an actor who played the villain. At one point, he bent down in my face and tried to frighten me. He got slapped in his face for his trouble and howled with laughter. I just looked at him. So it’s not in my nature to be intimidated.
“But I was also a perfectionist, which meant that I didn’t fully favor the process at Verve. It seemed too dashed off. All my life I was taught to practice, practice, practice. But I couldn't do that there. Goodness, I didn't even know most of the songs and had to learn them fast. As a consequence, for more than 40 years, I refused to listen to Toni Harper Sings. I could hear all kinds of mistakes that made me cringe.
“My husband couldn’t understand why I left the room or house when it was on. Whatever I may have thought about my performance, it was a beautiful experience. I trusted the Oscar Peterson Trio to carry me, and they did.
“The next albums I recorded were Lady Lonely in 1959 and Night Mood in 1960. They were arranged by Marty Paich, who was a dream. When I recorded those albums, I was in complete heaven. The albums were recorded at RCA’s studio in Hollywood, and there was a sea of musicians before me as I sang.
“One tune I remember distinctly was He Was a Man, a tune from the Lady Lonely album. The entire studio was lit gray, as though I was the only one there. But in truth I was surrounded by this beautiful music. I know this may sound strange but nevertheless it's true—I had an out-of-body experience.
“Even though the Marty Paich albums were recorded more than 50 years ago, my memories of being in the recording studio are quite vivid. Marty was relaxed, professional and always kind and patient. You could just tell how much the musicians adored and respected him. I remember on so many tunes, after the playbacks, the musicians applauded. I don't think that is something that happens often.
“They were applauding me and Marty, which made me feel great. I know the musicians loved those sessions. That's why they are among my fondest career memories. I think back and realize that some of the finest of musicians on the West Coast were there, including Jack Sheldon and Art Pepper and engineer Al Schmitt.
“For me, the Marty Paich sessions represent my very best singing. I listen to those albums today and I am pleased. Before Marty passed away in 1995, he called me out of the blue. He had found me after 34 years to say that the music we made together was “as fresh as the day we recorded it." I shall never forget that. I loved him for the joy he gave me with his music, the joy I experience today.
“Just recently, maybe in the last four or five years I began listening again to the music I recorded back then and have a much finer appreciation for the results. All three of the albums I’ve mentioned are now favorites. I listen now and think, 'Toni, you really sounded good.' I love it. Now, of course, I wish I had recorded more.
“Which probably makes you wonder why I quit the music business at age 29. From age 4 to 29, I constantly was told where to be and what to do. When I turned 29, I thought, 'I don't have to do what anybody says anymore. I am tired of traveling the world alone. No one helps me, and they take all of the money. I don't want to do this anymore.' So I stopped.
“After I made my decision, everyone flipped—my agent, manager, parents and friends. But it was just too bad. I had made my decision and, as life unfolded going forward, my decision was a great one.
“Do I sound a bit proud of my recordings? Well, I am—at least now. You have to understand, it has taken me many years to feel this way. By the time I quit, I was just tired of it all. I wonder now if I ever really loved it enough. My folks said I had to sing professionally, so I did. As a result of leaving, I have no knowledge of how good I might have been. Singing was just something I could do and had done as a child and continued into adulthood.
“But at 29, I knew I was tired of it. I will say there is difficulty transitioning from a child to an adult. But I weathered that just fine. At the time, there also was the race issue, which was much more prevalent and oppressive than it is now. I suppose many things in my head brought me to my decision over time. So when I said I was done, I was done. It was a lovely career, and I am so glad to have experienced it.
“I have no regrets. I married a wonderful person who saw to it that I had and have a beautiful and happy life. He's gone now, too, but I still have a wonderful family: My son, my daughter-in-law (who is like my own daughter), my two granddaughters and my three great-grandchildren.
“Sometimes now I wake up in the middle of the night in the dark and sing, sing, sing. I sing every song that pops into my head. When I have sung myself out, I go back to sleep. I have fond memories of singing with the Oscar Peterson Trio. And now that I’m willing to listen to the recording, I understand now why so many kind people enjoy it."
Here's John Levy, Cannonball Adderley's manager, on the tour in Japan with Toni Harper in 1963...
“Cannonball and his group were contracted to do their first tour of Japan's major cities in 1963. When the Japanese promoters called me to complete the details, they asked if we could include Toni Harper, whose Candy Store Blues from 1947 had been a hit in Japan and whose more recent albums had been released there. The promoters asked if Cannonball's rhythm section—Joe Zawinul, Louis Hayes and Sam Jones—would accompany her.
“Not being a jazz singer, per se, Toni was not known to the group at the time. I recall that some of the musicians weren't thrilled to be asked to back up a singer, since the sextet took enormous pride in themselves as celebrated jazz instrumentalists, which they were.
“At any rate, that was the offer, and we accepted. The deal included a taping with Toni for a television broadcast. I explained it all to Nat Adderley, Cannonball's brother, who handled the group's internal business. When we arrived in Japan, everything went fine.
“But when it came time to do the television show, bassist Sam Jones grew unhappy. Even though the TV show was going to be shown only once, and only in Japan, Sam didn't want to play. He was huddled in a corner with Nat when the Japanese promoter came over to ask what was wrong.
“When I went over to see what was going on, Sam was furious. He said, 'Man, you didn't tell us she was gonna be on our television show. We don't want to be playing for her.' I said to Sam, 'This was part of the deal.' Then, looking straight at Nat, I said, 'Before I even accepted this offer, I explained to you that Toni would be on the show with us.'
“Sam started to grumble some more, and his attitude was wrong. So I got mad. 'I don't know what you want,' I said. 'All you're doing is stirring up a lot of trouble within the band. Everybody was willing to do this, and you come up with this stuff now. I will not let you make me look like a fool in front of these people.'
“We were about to square off when Cannonball got in the middle and cooled everything out. Cannon was always the peacemaker. They all went on and did the show, but I was really upset with Nat. He could have and should have prevented it from becoming a problem situation. It was embarrassing.
“It also must have been hard on Toni, who was an innocent victim in all of this. As I recall, the balance of the tour went very well and Toni was very professional at a relatively young age. Louis Hayes, Cannonball's drummer, recalled her being very friendly to everyone in the group.
“Looking back, I wouldn't be at all surprised if Toni felt like an outsider at the time. The drama and hostility was unnecessary, but we made the best of a difficult situation."
And here's Toni Harper's reply to John's comments…
“As I read John Levy's account of our 1963 tour in Japan, the coldness of some of the musicians toward me—with the exception of Cannonball and Yusef Lateef—came rushing back. Like me, Yusef seemed to be a person outside of the group. Yusef was easy to talk to, and I remember him with fond thoughts. [Photo above of Toni Harper]
“When you originally asked me if I could recall anything about that time, I took my time thinking about it. Now having read your posts, my thoughts have more meaning. Living this life of mine is so very enlightening. It is absolutely marvelous. I am so happy to be breathing and experiencing life. And now, having befriended you and having the fun you bring is great. I love it. Too much fun for an old dame like me. Really!!!
“Thinking back, I remember the band being cold and distant, but not rude. But I guess there was that chill. It didn't bother me at all. By that time in my career, I was accustomed to being with and singing with musicians. Just about all of those musicians were men, so I was used to being treated many different ways.
“You have to understand, as I was growing up, my life was lonely anyway. I had no close relationships. It wasn't allowed. Just work. So the aloofness of the musicians in Cannonball's sextet was a matter of course, and I just focused on my work.
“However, I have fantastic memories of how I was accepted by the Japanese audiences and of the Japanese officials who handled the arrangements for the tour. Not always but frequently I found that I was the only woman sitting at dinner with just men. At the time I couldn't understand why no women were present.
“When I asked the Japanese men about that, they might have thought I was uncomfortable with it. I am not sure. But what ensued was that they invited me to their homes to meet their families. I was so fortunate to have been invited to go through the ritual of Japanese tea ceremonies. Those experiences changed my life forever and helped shape my life as it is today.
“I came to learn that only men typically attended dinners involving business matters and that it was part of the culture. For these men, I was a unique part of the equation. Everything was done by these men to make me feel comfortable and happy. In fact, I got along better with them than some members of Cannonball's group.
“While we were on tour, I learned two Japanese songs—one that I performed at each performance. I recall that Joe Zawinul was forced to play it. The other was a Japanese lullaby that one of the women I had met taught me. I still sing it to myself today and sometimes to my Japanese friends when they visit my home and I am in the mood to sing. We laugh. It is fun.
“I also remember being given the name, 'Toni With the Good Heart.' That was touching. In 1965, two years after our Japanese tour, I accepted the Buddhist faith and remain a Buddhist today. I am sure that my life-changing tour in Japan had everything to do with my becoming a Buddhist and with my decision to leave the entertainment field.
“I've taken the time to write this to you now as I think of it for if had I waited, I fear I might have lost the thoughts or gumption. I am so happy we have met over the computer. You and JazzWax bring me more joy than I know how to express."
Toni was active into her late years and corresponded with me often by email. She was upbeat, mischievous and remarkably modest.
Her first recording session came at age 10 backed by Eddie Beal and His Sextet in 1947. By 1949, at age 12, she was in several movies. Here's her big hit, Candy Store Blues...
Here's Toni on the Ed Sullivan Show singing Swing Low, Sweet Chariot...
And here's Miss In-between Blues...
In 1951, Toni recorded Peculiar Kind of Feeling with Harry James. Go here...
In 1955, Toni recorded Taking a Chance on Love with Dizzy Gillespie for Verve. Go here...
That same year, she recorded an entire album with pianist Oscar Peterson for Verve. Go here...
In 1956, she recorded with the Buddy Bregman Orchestra for Verve. The band: Toni Harper (vcl) acc by Milt Bernhart, Joe Howard, Lloyd Ulyate and Si Zentner (tb); Wilbur Schwartz, Maurice Stein, Ted Nash, Bob Cooper and Dale Issenhuth (reeds); Paul Smith (p); Barney Kessel (g); Joe Mondragon (b) and Alvin Stoller (d), with strings (8 vln, violas, 2 cellos, harp) and Buddy Bregman (dir). Go here...
In 1959, Toni recorded Lady Lonely for RCA with Marty Paich. The band: Toni Harper (vcl); acc by Jack Sheldon (tp); Vince DeRosa, John Cave, James Deckler and Dick Perissi (fhr); Art Pepper (as); Eddie Beal (p); Bill Pitman (g); Joe Mondragon (b) and Mel Lewis (d), with Ann Stockton (harp); strings (9 vln, 3 violas, 2 cellos) and Marty Paich (dir). Go here...
Next came Night Mood for RCA in 1960, with a knockout band: Conte Candoli, Dick Collins, Stu Williamson and Al Porcino (tp); Frank Rosolino, Bob Fitzpatrick and Pete Carpenter (tb); Red Callender (tu); Art Pepper and Bud Shank (as); Bill Perkins and Jack Montrose (ts); Jack Nimitz (bar); Jimmy Rowles (p); Larry Bunker (vib); Bill Pitman (g); Joe Mondragon (b) and Mel Lewis (d), with Marty Paich (arr,cond). Go here...
In 1963, Toni accompanied the Cannonball Adderley Sextet on tour in Japan. Here's Toni live, with Adderley's trio, singing One Note Samba...
Toni Harper told me about her experiences recording with the artists mentioned above. Her recollections follow.
Here's Toni on Oscar Peterson...
“When I recorded Toni Harper Sings with the Oscar Peterson Trio for Verve Records, I had known Verve’s owner and producer Norman Granz from earlier years. I had appeared as a singer on the radio in Los Angeles since 1945 and had performed at many benefit shows Norman had put together. So when Norman approached my agent to record with Oscar, I was overjoyed. I already knew bassist Ray Brown from singing around town, and Norman’s suggestion to record seemed like a natural next step for my career. The point of the session was to show that I had grown up, that I was no longer a little kid singing Cinderella Baby and could now sing more jazzy, adult material.
“For years, whenever I thought back on that 1955 recording session, I could believe I was just 16 years old at the time. I probably had that memory because during the session, Oscar and Ray playfully teased me by saying, 'Sixteen and never been kissed.' In truth, I guess I was 17 years then, not 16, which is still pretty young. They were kidding me because they knew I had had a very sheltered existence musically up until that point.
“Having been singing and performing professionally since age eight, I had plenty of confidence. But recording Toni Harper Sings was quite a departure for me. I had started my career singing songs like Candy Store Blues and Dolly’s Lullaby. Then in 1955, there I was singing songs like Love for Sale with the great Oscar Peterson Trio. And yet, some members of my family weren’t too happy about that. They wondered what I could possibly know about such things. And to sing about it?
“For me and for Oscar, Ray and Herb Ellis, the session was about the music. The tunes, the melodies, the notes—all just about the music. Norman selected the songs, as I recall. I remember I had sheet music, since nearly all of his choices were unknown to me—even though most were standards. That's how sheltered I was. But in those days, my mind could instantly photograph the music I looked over.
“To start, Oscar played a song through while I listened to the melody and read over the lyrics. Then we found a key that was comfortable, and I sang down the song to become familiar with it. Next we picked a tempo and just recorded. It was that simple. I recall Oscar was helpful and encouraging but firm. He had a very gentle way of moving things along. But I never felt hurried. I never had a sense of being pressed or pressured by anyone. It was a relaxed, fun time.
“In some cases, all we needed was one take on songs. That’s the way Norman wanted it. In other cases, like with I Could Write a Book, we needed multiple takes to get a master, probably because I had never heard the tune before. Also, the tempo on that song was slow, and I had to learn the song and make sense of what I was saying as I read the lyrics.
“It was a meeting of music-making minds. Oscar was the kindest, most gentle, soft-spoken, fun person. I sat on the piano bench beside him as we went over the tunes and ran them down so I could become familiar with the feel we chose.
“All of the guys were impressed that I could keep up with them. Once I heard that, everything was pure enjoyment going forward. I had to feel that they really liked working with me to relax completely. As a singer, I was never intimidated by anything. Even singing before huge audiences, like at Carnegie Hall, didn’t rattle me. I also wasn’t awestruck by anyone. I viewed the session matter of factly, as a job that had to be done.
“I had had the luxury of starting young, which always gives you confidence and an edge. When I was four years old, I worked in movies as an extra. I remember in one film, there was an actor who played the villain. At one point, he bent down in my face and tried to frighten me. He got slapped in his face for his trouble and howled with laughter. I just looked at him. So it’s not in my nature to be intimidated.
“But I was also a perfectionist, which meant that I didn’t fully favor the process at Verve. It seemed too dashed off. All my life I was taught to practice, practice, practice. But I couldn't do that there. Goodness, I didn't even know most of the songs and had to learn them fast. As a consequence, for more than 40 years, I refused to listen to Toni Harper Sings. I could hear all kinds of mistakes that made me cringe.
“My husband couldn’t understand why I left the room or house when it was on. Whatever I may have thought about my performance, it was a beautiful experience. I trusted the Oscar Peterson Trio to carry me, and they did.
“The next albums I recorded were Lady Lonely in 1959 and Night Mood in 1960. They were arranged by Marty Paich, who was a dream. When I recorded those albums, I was in complete heaven. The albums were recorded at RCA’s studio in Hollywood, and there was a sea of musicians before me as I sang.
“One tune I remember distinctly was He Was a Man, a tune from the Lady Lonely album. The entire studio was lit gray, as though I was the only one there. But in truth I was surrounded by this beautiful music. I know this may sound strange but nevertheless it's true—I had an out-of-body experience.
“Even though the Marty Paich albums were recorded more than 50 years ago, my memories of being in the recording studio are quite vivid. Marty was relaxed, professional and always kind and patient. You could just tell how much the musicians adored and respected him. I remember on so many tunes, after the playbacks, the musicians applauded. I don't think that is something that happens often.
“They were applauding me and Marty, which made me feel great. I know the musicians loved those sessions. That's why they are among my fondest career memories. I think back and realize that some of the finest of musicians on the West Coast were there, including Jack Sheldon and Art Pepper and engineer Al Schmitt.
“For me, the Marty Paich sessions represent my very best singing. I listen to those albums today and I am pleased. Before Marty passed away in 1995, he called me out of the blue. He had found me after 34 years to say that the music we made together was “as fresh as the day we recorded it." I shall never forget that. I loved him for the joy he gave me with his music, the joy I experience today.
“Just recently, maybe in the last four or five years I began listening again to the music I recorded back then and have a much finer appreciation for the results. All three of the albums I’ve mentioned are now favorites. I listen now and think, 'Toni, you really sounded good.' I love it. Now, of course, I wish I had recorded more.
“Which probably makes you wonder why I quit the music business at age 29. From age 4 to 29, I constantly was told where to be and what to do. When I turned 29, I thought, 'I don't have to do what anybody says anymore. I am tired of traveling the world alone. No one helps me, and they take all of the money. I don't want to do this anymore.' So I stopped.
“After I made my decision, everyone flipped—my agent, manager, parents and friends. But it was just too bad. I had made my decision and, as life unfolded going forward, my decision was a great one.
“Do I sound a bit proud of my recordings? Well, I am—at least now. You have to understand, it has taken me many years to feel this way. By the time I quit, I was just tired of it all. I wonder now if I ever really loved it enough. My folks said I had to sing professionally, so I did. As a result of leaving, I have no knowledge of how good I might have been. Singing was just something I could do and had done as a child and continued into adulthood.
“But at 29, I knew I was tired of it. I will say there is difficulty transitioning from a child to an adult. But I weathered that just fine. At the time, there also was the race issue, which was much more prevalent and oppressive than it is now. I suppose many things in my head brought me to my decision over time. So when I said I was done, I was done. It was a lovely career, and I am so glad to have experienced it.
“I have no regrets. I married a wonderful person who saw to it that I had and have a beautiful and happy life. He's gone now, too, but I still have a wonderful family: My son, my daughter-in-law (who is like my own daughter), my two granddaughters and my three great-grandchildren.
“Sometimes now I wake up in the middle of the night in the dark and sing, sing, sing. I sing every song that pops into my head. When I have sung myself out, I go back to sleep. I have fond memories of singing with the Oscar Peterson Trio. And now that I’m willing to listen to the recording, I understand now why so many kind people enjoy it."
Here's John Levy, Cannonball Adderley's manager, on the tour in Japan with Toni Harper in 1963...
“Cannonball and his group were contracted to do their first tour of Japan's major cities in 1963. When the Japanese promoters called me to complete the details, they asked if we could include Toni Harper, whose Candy Store Blues from 1947 had been a hit in Japan and whose more recent albums had been released there. The promoters asked if Cannonball's rhythm section—Joe Zawinul, Louis Hayes and Sam Jones—would accompany her.
“Not being a jazz singer, per se, Toni was not known to the group at the time. I recall that some of the musicians weren't thrilled to be asked to back up a singer, since the sextet took enormous pride in themselves as celebrated jazz instrumentalists, which they were.
“At any rate, that was the offer, and we accepted. The deal included a taping with Toni for a television broadcast. I explained it all to Nat Adderley, Cannonball's brother, who handled the group's internal business. When we arrived in Japan, everything went fine.
“But when it came time to do the television show, bassist Sam Jones grew unhappy. Even though the TV show was going to be shown only once, and only in Japan, Sam didn't want to play. He was huddled in a corner with Nat when the Japanese promoter came over to ask what was wrong.
“When I went over to see what was going on, Sam was furious. He said, 'Man, you didn't tell us she was gonna be on our television show. We don't want to be playing for her.' I said to Sam, 'This was part of the deal.' Then, looking straight at Nat, I said, 'Before I even accepted this offer, I explained to you that Toni would be on the show with us.'
“Sam started to grumble some more, and his attitude was wrong. So I got mad. 'I don't know what you want,' I said. 'All you're doing is stirring up a lot of trouble within the band. Everybody was willing to do this, and you come up with this stuff now. I will not let you make me look like a fool in front of these people.'
“We were about to square off when Cannonball got in the middle and cooled everything out. Cannon was always the peacemaker. They all went on and did the show, but I was really upset with Nat. He could have and should have prevented it from becoming a problem situation. It was embarrassing.
“It also must have been hard on Toni, who was an innocent victim in all of this. As I recall, the balance of the tour went very well and Toni was very professional at a relatively young age. Louis Hayes, Cannonball's drummer, recalled her being very friendly to everyone in the group.
“Looking back, I wouldn't be at all surprised if Toni felt like an outsider at the time. The drama and hostility was unnecessary, but we made the best of a difficult situation."
And here's Toni Harper's reply to John's comments…
“As I read John Levy's account of our 1963 tour in Japan, the coldness of some of the musicians toward me—with the exception of Cannonball and Yusef Lateef—came rushing back. Like me, Yusef seemed to be a person outside of the group. Yusef was easy to talk to, and I remember him with fond thoughts. [Photo above of Toni Harper]
“When you originally asked me if I could recall anything about that time, I took my time thinking about it. Now having read your posts, my thoughts have more meaning. Living this life of mine is so very enlightening. It is absolutely marvelous. I am so happy to be breathing and experiencing life. And now, having befriended you and having the fun you bring is great. I love it. Too much fun for an old dame like me. Really!!!
“Thinking back, I remember the band being cold and distant, but not rude. But I guess there was that chill. It didn't bother me at all. By that time in my career, I was accustomed to being with and singing with musicians. Just about all of those musicians were men, so I was used to being treated many different ways.
“You have to understand, as I was growing up, my life was lonely anyway. I had no close relationships. It wasn't allowed. Just work. So the aloofness of the musicians in Cannonball's sextet was a matter of course, and I just focused on my work.
“However, I have fantastic memories of how I was accepted by the Japanese audiences and of the Japanese officials who handled the arrangements for the tour. Not always but frequently I found that I was the only woman sitting at dinner with just men. At the time I couldn't understand why no women were present.
“When I asked the Japanese men about that, they might have thought I was uncomfortable with it. I am not sure. But what ensued was that they invited me to their homes to meet their families. I was so fortunate to have been invited to go through the ritual of Japanese tea ceremonies. Those experiences changed my life forever and helped shape my life as it is today.
“I came to learn that only men typically attended dinners involving business matters and that it was part of the culture. For these men, I was a unique part of the equation. Everything was done by these men to make me feel comfortable and happy. In fact, I got along better with them than some members of Cannonball's group.
“While we were on tour, I learned two Japanese songs—one that I performed at each performance. I recall that Joe Zawinul was forced to play it. The other was a Japanese lullaby that one of the women I had met taught me. I still sing it to myself today and sometimes to my Japanese friends when they visit my home and I am in the mood to sing. We laugh. It is fun.
“I also remember being given the name, 'Toni With the Good Heart.' That was touching. In 1965, two years after our Japanese tour, I accepted the Buddhist faith and remain a Buddhist today. I am sure that my life-changing tour in Japan had everything to do with my becoming a Buddhist and with my decision to leave the entertainment field.
“I've taken the time to write this to you now as I think of it for if had I waited, I fear I might have lost the thoughts or gumption. I am so happy we have met over the computer. You and JazzWax bring me more joy than I know how to express."
This story appears courtesy of JazzWax by Marc Myers.
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