Al Cohn Memorial Jazz Collection at East Stroudsburg University of Pennsylvania

summer/fall 2020
Bill Holman
Exclusive Interview on
Zoot Sims and more!
Phil Woods
Discusses Al Cohn

remembering

September 26, 1953 - December 31, 2019

Vol. 30 - No. 2

Issue 74
summer/fall 2020

In This Issue

3

Note from the
A
Collection Coordinator
By Dr. Matt Vashlishan

4
G uitarist’s Guitarist,
Musician’s Musician,
Human Being’s
Human Being
By Su Terry
5
A N INTERVIEW WITH PHIL
WOODS ON THE SUBJECT
OF JAZZ SAXOPHONIST AND
ARRANGER, AL COHN
By Larry Fisher

From The
Collection

Cover: Vic Juris
COTA 1992
Photo by Bob Napoli

19
A n Interview with
Bill Holman
By Dr. Matt Vashlishan
and Patrick Dorian
27
T he Charles Christopher
Parker Centennial Year
Continues: Bird with
the Herd, Kenton, & THE
Orchestra
29
Fa rewell to the
Great Mandel!
By Patrick Dorian
3 0
C ontributors and
acknowledgements

Editor
Matt Vashlishan, D.M.A.
Design and Production
Office of University Relations
Ideal Design Solutions

Al Cohn Memorial
Jazz Collection
Kemp Library
East Stroudsburg University
200 Prospect St.
East Stroudsburg, PA 18301
(570)422-3828
esu.edu/alcohncollection
esu.edu/jazzatesu

Centerfold: Zoot Sims
performing with Al Cohn
(location unknown)
Photo by Jack Bradley

Back Cover: Coleman
Hawkins listens to
Zoot Sims warming up
backstage at Newport
Jazz Festival in 1963.
©Burt Goldblatt/
CTSIMAGES. Used
with permission.

The Note contains some content that
may be considered offensive. Authors’
past recollections reflect attitudes of
the times and remain uncensored.

2 | the note | summer/fall 2020

Al Cohn (1925-1988)
The Al Cohn Memorial Jazz Collection was founded in 1988 by
Flo Cohn, Ralph Hughes, Phil Woods, Dr. Larry Fisher, ESU Vice
President for Development & Advancement Larry Naftulin, and
ESU President Dr. James Gilbert.

University
interim President
Kenneth Long

10
V ic Juris:
The Jazz Warrior
18
Jam Session Etiquette
By Rob Scheps

The Note is published twice a year by the Al Cohn Memorial
Jazz Collection, East Stroudsburg University of Pennsylvania,
as part of its educational outreach program.

The mission of the Al Cohn Memorial Jazz Collection is to
stimulate, enrich, and support research, teaching, learning,
and appreciation of all forms of jazz, particularly those
connected to the Pocono area of Pennsylvania. The ACMJC
is a distinctive archive built upon a unique and symbiotic
relationship between the Pocono Mountains jazz community
and East Stroudsburg University.
With the support of a world-wide network of jazz advocates,
the ACMJC seeks to promote the local and global history
of jazz by making its resources available and useful to
students, researchers, educators, musicians, historians,
journalists and jazz enthusiasts of all kinds, and to preserve
its holdings for future generations.
East Stroudsburg University of Pennsylvania is committed to equal
opportunity for its students, employees and applicants. The university
is committed to providing equal educational and employment rights
to all persons without regard to race, color, sex, religion, national
origin, age, disability, sexual orientation, gender identity or veteran’s
status. Each member of the university community has a right to study
and work in an environment free from any form of racial, ethnic, and
sexual discrimination including sexual harassment, sexual violence and
sexual assault. (Further information, including contact information,
can be found on the university’s website at esu.edu/titleix.)
In accordance with federal and state laws, the university will not
tolerate discrimination. This policy is placed in this document in
accordance with state and federal laws including Titles VI and VII of
the Civil Rights Act of 1964, Title IX of the Educational Amendments
of 1972, Sections 503 and 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973, the
Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990, and the Civil Rights Act of
1991 as well as all applicable federal and state executive orders.

A Note from the

Collection
Coordinator
Dr. Matt Vashlishan

As I write this piece during the summer of 2020,
many of us are five months into living a lifestyle we
never thought possible. For the first time in history, our
country has been ground to a halt for the better part
of six months by something no two doctors or health
organizations can seem to agree on how to fix. We can
all agree that a disease has taken a toll on our country, as well
as the world. The infamous COVID-19 will without a doubt
live on in our memories like other national tragedies such as
“9-11” or “Pearl Harbor.” We have lost several very important
jazz musicians to this illness: Ellis Marsalis Jr., Bucky Pizzarelli,
Wallace Roney and Lee Konitz. There are no doubt more. I
personally know several others who have recovered but not
without great struggle and some of the most uncharacteristic
and severe symptoms they have ever experienced.
I mention COVID-19 to document the world climate at the
time of this issue, but also because for the first time in my
lifetime, the jazz community and live music industry as a
whole have taken a direct hit. It is a time for reflection, and
a time for us to try and understand our place in the world.
It is also a time to reflect on what has come before, and
to admire the strength and determination of those who we
look up to. It is a time to look back at the qualities of the
heroes we have listened to on all of those wonderful jazz
recordings and try to imagine their world during which they
created those masterpieces. Think of the stories about Duke
Ellington, Count Basie, Woody Herman, Stan Kenton, and so
many other bands traveling on the road, some of which you
will hear about in this issue. What was their living situation
like? What was the food like? How easy was it to have clean
clothing? How were they treated? Their determination to
play this music above all odds drove them to do what they
had to do to accomplish the task and to of course, make
a living doing something they truly believed in. How would
they approach our current situation? Furthermore, how
would we approach their situation? Would we? Could we?
All of the incredible music created throughout jazz history
has occurred in the last 125 years since cornet player
Buddy Bolden created his first group in 1895. During
those 125 years, we have endured the Spanish Flu, the
Polio epidemic, the Asian Flu of 1957-58, the Hong Kong
Flu in 1968-69, AIDS, the H1N1 Swine Flu pandemic,
the threat of Ebola, the Zika Virus, SARS and MERS, now
COVID-19, and probably too many more to mention
here. There will unfortunately be more down the road.

Let’s not forget the Great Depression, which was an illness of
a different sort. The United States unemployment reached
an incredible 24 percent nation wide, even higher than what
we face today.
It is through dealing with all of these obstacles that we
become equipped to overcome the next. History shows we
are resilient and able to conquer any challenge presented
to us. There will be other illness, other conflict, other
administrations, and perhaps issues we cannot comprehend
at this point. At a time when the world needs music, I am
certain we can find a way to beat the odds much like so
many did before us. I think we have a lot to learn from
the people who built the foundation for which we stand
playing and appreciating this music. We can learn not only
from transcribing their solos, but also from admiring their
personalities and fearless resilience. They never let the
music stop, and neither should we.
I would like to acknowledge that ESU President Marcia
Welsh, Ph.D. has officially decided to start a new chapter
of her life. I met Dr. Welsh about seven years ago when we
decided that I would take on the duties of the ACMJC. Since
that time, she has been incredibly supportive and involved
with everything going on in the Collection. From our annual
concerts to the Jazz Lounge, from The Note redesign to new
programs such as the Jazz Lounge Listening Series and the
Duke Ellington Nutcracker Suite, she has been there to listen
and help expand the visibility of the Collection as well as the
offerings we provide to the public. She always had time for
it, and for that I am greatly appreciative.
ESU’s Interim President as of July 31 is Kenneth Long, Vice
President of Administration and Finance. He began his time at
ESU nearly the same time I did, and although my interaction
with Ken Long has been nowhere near as involved as it was
with Dr. Welsh, I have the same description for him as far as
support for the ACMJC. We are in good hands, and I would
like to officially wish Dr. Welsh the best of luck moving
forward and a sincere “thank you” for everything she has
helped me accomplish over the years.
Finally, as is the case with nearly every issue these days,
saying goodbye to a fellow jazz musician is never easy. This
is especially the case with guitarist Vic Juris. Taken far too
soon due to liver cancer, his passing has left a hole in the
jazz community at large, and especially within the world
of guitar players. You will hear about Vic from several
people throughout this issue and I hope it illustrates what
an incredible person and musician he was to literally every
person who met him or heard him on even one recording.
My deepest thanks goes out to Gunnar Mossblad and Kate
Baker, who during a very difficult time found a way to help
reach out and compile thoughts and photographs from
some of Vic’s closest friends. n
summer/fall 2020 | the note | 3

From the bridge

By Su Terry

Guitarist’s Guitarist, Musician’s
Musician, Human Being’s Human Being
I was always in awe of Vic
Juris. He was only six years
older than I but his musical
maturity belonged to those
“old souls” who seem to have
reincarnated as a musician so
often that they no longer PLAY
music, they ARE music.

“No Vic,” I replied, “I want what I wrote.”
“Well okaaaaaay,” Vic replied, unconvinced.
Vic Juris, Su Terry, Kenny Davis, and
Bill Goodwin at the Deer Head Inn

The first time I played with Vic
was at the Deer Head in 2013.
I was in the audience when Gene Perla’s band was onstage, with Vic as the
featured guest. Gene kindly invited me and one or two other musicians to sit
in. We played a tune and I stepped off the stage after my solo to stand next
to my old friend, trumpeter Tom Goehring. Vic began his solo by playing the
figure with which I had ended my own. He proceeded to take my humble
ending and weave it into a veritable sonata: playing the line in different keys,
using augmentation, diminution, elongating it, coloring it, compressing it,
delicately weaving it into a tapestry that had begun as a simple strand of yarn.
Tom said to me, sotto voce, “How does it feel to have a genius take your line
and make a whole tune out of it?”
Not long afterward, as the new Deer Head Records label was being launched,
producer/pianist Richard Burton sounded me with a proposition: How would
I like to be one of the debut leaders for the label? That sounded mighty fine to
me. But it got better. Richard had been contemplating the lineup for the date
and he excitedly revealed his plan: myself with Ron Thomas on piano, Tony
Marino on bass, Bill Goodwin on drums, and Vic Juris on guitar. Wow!
The date was to be recorded live onstage at the Deer Head, with Richard
producing and Glenn Ferracone engineering. I had complete freedom to
choose the repertoire and I wrote arrangements to feature Vic on nylon string
as well as electric.
At our first rehearsal I passed out an
arrangement I’d made, an homage to Michel
Legrand, incorporating his ballad Windmills
of Your Mind and What Are You Doing the
Rest of Your Life (which we did as a doubletime-feel samba, as opposed to its usual
treatment as a ballad.) It turned out both Vic
and Bill had toured with Legrand, which led
to the reenactment of some hysterical road
stories complete with faux French and some
pantomime worthy of Marcel Marceau.
Another arrangement was By the Time I Get
to Phoenix (which did not make the final
cut of the disc–we had so much material!)
4 | the note | summer/fall 2020

In this arrangement I had modulated up a
half step for each section. To build tension
in the second verse I opened with a pedal
tone, and for the modulation to the third
verse I had a weird chord: E flat sus over
B. Looking over the chart before we played
it, Vic noticed this chord and said, “Su, I
think you made a mistake here. I think you
meant [he suggested some other chord I
don’t remember.]

When we got to that part of the tune
Vic played the chord as I had written it.
Delightedly, he called out over the band:
“That is so hip! Well I guess you showed
me!”
You have to understand what that remark
meant to me. When you’re a saxophonist
you’re always a little harmonically insecure
around pianists and guitarists (or maybe it’s
just me) since harmony is their business.
To blurt out “I want what I wrote” instead
of thanking my guitarist for his obviously
superior suggestion (while on my knees
intoning “I’m not worthy, I’m not worthy”
in my mind) was a bit brazen, if not outright
rude. But there was my weird chord, with
the Vic Seal of Approval and Apology on it.
The musical chemistry of the casting
of the album was like falling in love.
When you have a record label like
VectorDisk with a catalogue of some
of the most adventurous, creative and
sublime recordings in the history of
modern jazz, as Richard Burton does,

then I guess you know how to put a record
date together! I liked the band so much
that we did many subsequent concerts.
But even when I changed up personnel, I
tried to always have Vic on guitar if he was
available.
For a concert booking at the Artists
Collective in Hartford in 2014 I got Vic,
Bob Cranshaw on bass, and Steve Johns
on drums. At the rehearsal Vic and Steve
(New Jersey) were politely arguing over
who would pick up Bob (Manhattan) for
the drive to Hartford; in other words, who
would get to listen to Bob’s stories about
playing with Sonny Rollins and everyone
else he played with, for three delicious
uninterrupted hours each way?
Vic: “Steve, I think it’s easier if I pick up
Bob.”
Steve: “Yes Vic, but I actually have to be
right near his apartment that day [probably
a lie] so why don’t I pick him up?”
Vic: “Steve, you lucky son-of-a-gun!”
The music Vic and I played together was
brief in duration, but long in that vertical
dimension we call “deep.” The last gig we
played together was, fittingly, at the Deer
Head in May 2019, six years after we had
made our Live at the Deer Head album.
Kenny Davis was on bass and Bill Goodwin
on drums.
The last time I’d played with Vic had been
the previous year when I went to the
States for a couple of weeks. When he
arrived at the club for the sound check, I
noticed how much he’d aged. Still, when
I picture Vic in my mind, I perceive much
more than an image. What comes through
is actually a spectrum of frequencies we
knew as Vic Juris. The range of visible light
on the entire electromagnetic spectrum is
very small, but what Vic gave to all of us
is very large. He’ll always be remembered
because of how beautifully and uniquely he
expressed the entire spectrum, especially
that invisible part that sounds so lovely.
We arrive at the Coda sign of a maestro.
After a stunned silence, all we can do
is applaud, loudly. Rising to our feet,
applauding all the while, we thank the
maestro. Thank you, Vic. n

An Interview with

PHIL WOODS
ON THE SUBJECT OF JAZZ SAXOPHONIST
AND ARRANGER, AL COHN (1925-1988)
By Dr. Larry Fisher

ESU Professor of Music Emeritus and Research Chairman,
International Association of Jazz Education.

Author’s Note: This conversation
was recorded in my office in the
Fine and Performing Arts Center
of East Stroudsburg University
on September 30, 1988 between
11:17 AM and 12:00 Noon. As is
the case in most oral histories,
some editing was necessary for
the sake of brevity and clarity.
The original tape, however, is
preserved as a part of the Al
Cohn Memorial Jazz Collection
at E.S.U. This archive has been
established in remembrance of a
distinguished musician from our community who has attained worldwide
recognition for his contributions to art of Jazz Music.
This article was presented at the Sixteenth annual convention of the
National Association of Jazz Educators in San Diego, CA in January of
1989. It was originally published in the annual yearbook: Jazz Research
Papers 1989, Charles T. Brown, Editor.
Larry Fisher: How long did you know Al Cohn and where did you meet him?
Phil Woods: I’ve known Al Cohn since I went to New York City in 1948.
I think the first time l’d seen Al Cohn was with great disappointment. I
went to see Woody Herman’s band. I remember going to look for Allen
Eager who was supposed to be in Woody Herman’s band. They played a
gig in Riverside Park and that was located in my hometown of Springfield,
Massachusetts. I was born in 1931 just to give you some idea as of where
I am coming from. I was probably just about in high school. It had to
be 1946 or 1947. Allen Eager wasn’t playing and I said, “Who the hell
is that on tenor?” And they said it was Al Cohn. I was so disappointed!
I didn’t know who Al Cohn was. I went to New York in 1948. So I first
met Al, I mean peripherally, in all the jam sessions. I knew Al Porcino
and Charlie Kennedy pretty well. There was a whole coterie. I was
hanging out with a cat named Hal Stein. I attended Juilliard School of
Music from 1948 through 52. I did the whole 4-year smear. The first time
I was really aware of Al’s music was when I did a John Eardley record.
summer/fall 2020 | the note | 5

This would have to be
in the early 50’s - 1951,
52, something like that.
The album has appeared
under Zoot’s (Sims) name
occasionally. We were having
rehearsals at Nola’s and Zoot
couldn’t make rehearsal and
sent Al Cohn. I thought that
was a pretty hip substitute.
That’s the first time we sat
down together in a section.
I really got to know Al Cohn
well. I think this would be the
most important junction that
we had and we had many.
This would be the Birdland
All Stars of 56. I was part of
a group with Al. It was called
East coast meets West coast.
It was Al and me, Conte
Candoli and Kenny Durham,
just the four horns. We did a couple of
albums for Roulette. In addition to this
group, the tour consisted of Sarah Vaughn,
Al Hibbler, Count Basie’s Band with Joe
Williams, Bud Powell’s Trio, and Lester
Young. I sort of knew everybody from
Birdland because Birdland was, of course,
the clearinghouse. When I showed up for
that bus at 9 o’clock in the morning in
front of Charlie’s I didn’t know where to
sit. I mean there’s a pecking order. I mean
Basie’s band had been sitting in the same
seats. Freddy Green has been in the same
seat since 1928 or something. You know
what I mean? So as I got on the bus I heard
a voice in the back say, “back here Phil!”
and that was Al Cohn. He had saved me a
place. We sat over the wheel and right in
front of me was Bud Powell and right in
front of Al was Lester Young. So I would
say that was a pretty good start to the life
long friendship that we had. We roomed
together and he took pretty good care of
me. We used to drink together and play
gin rummy. A few years later I remember
going to New York to see Al Cohn. I
started to write some charts when I was
living in New Hope, PA and I wanted a
little guidance with my arrangements.
6 | the note | summer/fall 2020

I knew Al was a wonderful arranger so when I got up my nerve, I asked him if
I could bring my charts in. He said, “Yeah, l’ll take a look at them.” He looked
at all my charts and he started to mull them over. He said, “Phil, it looks good,
but Phil, you’re giving the drummer too much information.” I understood
exactly what he meant. We talked about Duke Ellington and how Duke didn’t
believe in giving the bass player any information.
LF: You said you recorded some of the music from that tour?
PW: Yeah.
LF: Were those the first recordings you ever did with him?
PW: That probably was the first. Yeah, that was the first.
LF: Did you do any others?
PW: Oh many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many.
LF: Could you talk about those?
PW: Oh, you can talk about the Jazz Giants album we did. That was Al, Zoot,
Jerry Mulligan and myself. Just those Manny Albam charts. It’s called Jazz
Giants. And I remember I couldn’t deal with Gerry Mulligan.
I was sitting right next to Gerry and he was saying, “long, short, short, long, long
short long.” He was making me crazy. So I said, “Zoot, will you change places with
me?” I moved over in between Al and Zoot where it was a lot safer. Al always
protected me. The standard studio sax section for any Manny Albam date, Oliver
Nelson date, Quincy Jones date, Ralph Burns date, Al Cohn date, Bill Potts date, I
don’t want to leave anybody out, Gary McFarland date, would always be Al and
Zoot, Gene Quill and myself and would either be Danny Bank or Sol Slinger on
baritone. That was for me the ultimate sax section as well as for most of those
above mentioned arrangers who knew something about how it should go.

The jazz solos in the Bill Potts arrangements
of Porgy and Bess were played by that
saxophone section. That’s probably the
most representative of the New York sound.
That’s what I call the New York sound, I
mean everybody was a jazz soloist and
could still read even though Zoot claimed
he couldn’t read, but he read very well. He
really did. He would demean himself but
he was really quite capable after all those
years of big band experience. You don’t
make all the big bands that Zoot made and
not be able to read. He just didn’t feel that
reading was his strongest suit, but he did a
hell of a job, I thought. And, of course, Al
could read fly shit, you know what I mean?
LF: We have a rather unique jazz festival
here in the Poconos called The Celebration
of the Arts (C.O.T.A.).
PW: Yes we do.
LF: Could you tell me about Al’s
involvement with that?

PW: Well Al had been living out here prior to his demise. I guess it’s been a
good 10 years. He’s taken part in all our fundraisers. Al and I used to always be
in Denver on Labor Day weekend for the Dick Gibson Jazz Party. There was a
big hole this year. The year before Zoot wasn’t there, now this year Al wasn’t
there. The ranks are definitely being thinned. It’s very good you are doing this
oral history. I think it’s a very important project. I also roomed with Zoot. Al
and Zoot are inextricably entwined as a unit and for many years they were
representatives for many of us New York musicians around the world. In the
middle of Russia everybody knew who Al Cohn was. I mean he was given the
title “Mr. Music” and that’s not a title that the cats bestow lightly.
LF: Who gave him that title?
PW: God only knows. It sounds like it might have been Ralph Burns or on
of the heavy writers. But it doesn’t matter, whoever it was had it absolutely
correct.
LF: What would you consider some of his best recordings, your personal
favorites?
PW: I liked the album called “Mr. Music.” It’s beautiful, it’s about a nine-piece
band and it’s so superb. All the arrangements were done by Al and it must be
a Jack Lewis production. I also love Mission to Moscow. I think it’s probably
some of the best writing ever done from a writer’s point of view. From my
point of view any album Al recorded with Zoot.
LF: He arranged the Mission to Moscow album?
PW: Yes.
LF: Did he also play on it?
PW: No he didn’t. He just wrote it.
LF: What other important credits does Al have as an arranger?
PW: He did the Duke Ellington Tribute “Sophisticated Ladies”
of course. That was his Broadway production. He did a lot
of the arranging for that. He also wrote for TV shows: The
Miss Universe Pageant, Your Hit Parade, and for the shows
of Sid Ceasar, Ernie Kovacs, and Steve Allen. He did a lot
of writing that we’re not even aware of. Because he was
what they would call a ghost writer. I mean when cats got
jammed up or needed a hand they’d get Al because he was
so fast. A lot of his credits are ghost credits. Al would bail
out many a show and its music director by helping with the
orchestrations. Al and others like him were known for their
fast professionalism.
LF: On September 10, 1988 you performed in an entire set
of Al Cohn Big Band arrangements at the Celebration of the
Arts Jazz Festival in Delaware Water Gap, PA. For whose band
did Al originally write those arrangements?
PW: Most of them were written for the Terry Gibbs Band.
One was for Urbie Green and another for Woody Herman.
summer/fall 2020 | the note | 7

LF: Did Al do a lot of touring? Did he tour
with his own group or with others?

LF: I find that many musicians that have great improvising skills with their
horns are also very quick with their wit.

PW: His touring was rather limited because
he would stay in New York and do mostly
writing. His tour was whenever. He did a
lot of work at the Half Note with Zoot of
course. They were there every New Year’s
for many, many years and then they would
go to Chicago and they would go play
Shelly’s Club. He would do 4 or 5 months
touring a year but he wasn’t on the road
all the time. He didn’t have to be, that’s
why he wrote music so he could stay in
New York. He loved New York. It took him
years to get off the stoop and move to the
country. He loved the city action.

PW: You’d be surprised some of them don’t have a sense of humor, but
most of them do. Zoot was also very witty and very quick and very dry. Zoot
was drier than Al. Al was always into jokes, I mean he always had a joke. But
not so much after Zoot died. I remember Al said to me one time, “life isn’t
so funny any more,” and I knew what he meant. But that didn’t stop him
from telling jokes.

LF: Did he use any particular sidemen on
those tours?
PW: Major Holly and Dave Frishburg
were playing with him for a while, Monty
Alexander was a drummer, Major Holly
was a bass player, Dave McKenna played
with him for a while.
LF: What can you tell me about Al’s
personality?
PW: Funny, funny, funny guy.
LF: Do you have any favorite stories about
him?
PW: Well I have one I just heard.
Somebody asked him if he played “Giant
Steps” and he said, “yes but I use my own
changes.” If you’re a musician and know
“Giant Steps” it’s god damn hysterical. A
favorite one I like is: supposedly he was
watching a baseball game in a bar and
somebody said, “what’s the score AI?”
He said, “ten to one” and somebody
said, “who’s winning?” and AI said,
“ten!” Ah, the famous one is when he
was in Scandinavia. They have a beer in
Denmark and it’s very strong. A couple of
those will knock your socks off. It’s called
Elephant Beer, and somebody said, “Al
have you tried the Elephant Beer?” Al
said, “No, I drink to forget!” I mean he
was so fast.

8 | the note | summer/fall 2020

LF: Do you think that those recordings he made with Zoot will be
remembered more than any others?
PW: Oh yeah. “From A to Z” and those albums for anybody that knows
their stuff. You’re darn tootin. Or stuff that he did later, especially like the
solo stuff he did with just Jimmy Rowles and Al playing. That’s a beautiful
album. Just the two of them playing for some of that. And that’s the real
salon chamber of music. There is nothing quite as good as those two guys
together (Al and Zoot).
LF: What musicians do you think influenced Al more than anyone else?
PW: Lester Young, Charlie Parker, Louie Armstrong for sure. Not necessarily
in that order. Also Ben Webster and Coleman Hawkins, Prez, I think, would
be the key, but not the sole influence. Al listened to everybody. Towards the
end, a lot of Duke. He was really into Duke.
LF: Historians like to put labels on players. Would you say Al’s style was
more Swing or Be-Bop? How would you describe it?
PW: Oh he was Swing. He was close to, I mean just a little before Bop. It was
very modern Swing. He was right between Lester Young and Charlie Parker
in which he utilized the best of the elements that fit for him. You’ve got to
remember that Al had consummate harmonic sense. He was a fine pianist.
He was a very sophisticated. One of his songs, “Tain’t NoUse,” uses the
beginning of Petrushka or was it Firebird? I forget, maybe I got my Stravinsky
wrong but its nice chromatic harmony. A direct quote from Stravinsky. He
was extremely erudite in his approach to all the music. I think he went with
a Lester Young swing but he adapted quickly to the new harmony in the
extended altered chords. It was no big deal to Al to think that way, but as a
musician he knew how to play changes, man.
LF: What made Al and Zoot’s recordings so special to everyone?
PW: Oh because they were just so special. It was just a wonderful tandem
team. They both had similar roots. Al perhaps had a stronger harmonic root,
Zoot perhaps a stronger swinging root. Put them together and you had the
best music possible improvised at that moment.
LF: Do you think they expressed their different personalities in their playing?
PW: I think everybody has a different personality. Al had his harmonic
sophistication and Zoot his rhythmic sophistication. They both played hip
changes and they both swung, but Al could play the piano and knew more
about chords. Zoot had more of an instinctive rhythmical sense.

LF: Do you think their sense of humor came
out in their playing?
PW: Well I roomed with both of them. They
were both extremely funny.
LF: How would you show humor in playing?
PW: Any number of ways, by obscure
quotes you would do on your horn which
they would do sometimes accidentally. I
remember on one New Year’s Eve broadcast
from the Half Note Zoot, instead of going
into “Auld Lang Syne” went into “Happy
Birthday” I was on tour with Zoot in Russia.
I mean rooming with Zoot in Russia is truly
amazing. Everybody said your rooms are
going to be bugged and I looked at Zoot and
I said they won’t know what the hell we’re
talking about anyway.
LF: Many musicians have played the tenor
saxophone. In your opinion is there anything
specific that is unique about Al’s playing or
his approach to the instrument?

Steve out but he’d have his tenor in the back. And in return Steve would have
to play like, “AIl The Things You Are,” in the key of E. I mean when Al
wanted to practice, he’d go by Steve’s house and he’d play stanzas but
he’d play them in any key possible. A Major, five sharps, 10 sharps, 15
sharps, whatever. That, to him was working out. I guarantee it. That’s no
mean feat. But Gilmore told me that which I think is very interesting: “He
would plow you out but you had to play in E with him!”
LF: Al was not as well known as Zoot Sims or some of the other tenor
saxophonists of that time. Why?
PW: Perhaps because Zoot toured more. Zoot toured a lot for Norman
Grantz and had a lot more exposure. He did more records under his
own name.
LF: You said before that Al didn’t really tour that much was that because
he liked to write more?
PW: Al wrote. Al liked to write. It wasn’t a matter of writing but it was
just a quicker way to make a buck. It was good money and he had family
to raise and all other responsibilities for a young family man and this kept
him in New York and he was a New York guy. I mean who wants to go off
on a bus when you have the best of both worlds: write all day and play all
night which is a lot of time what he actually did. n

PW: Yeah, it was Al Cohn. Words can’t
describe it, his musical sound speaks
for itself. The most important part of
course is that all the great players have
a distinctive sound. When you heard
a tenor sax you simply said, “that’s Al,
that’s Zoot, that’s Lester, that’s Ben
Webster,” that’s what comes first. All
of the swing and the harmony and
all that comes later. First you got to
have a distinctive sound otherwise it
sounds like cookie cutter jazz like so
many of the younger players. I mean
they all sound the same. They use the
same mouthpiece, the same reed,
the same set up. Al had a sound, a
distinctive sound.
LF: A beautiful, rich sound.
PW: Big, and when he got his new
false teeth towards the end he was
getting louder and higher. And he
was practicing more and more. Steve
Gilmore my bass player lived close
to Al. Al went out and bought a fourwheel drive with a little snowplow in
front and he’d go over and he’d plow
summer/fall 2020 | the note | 9

Remembering

Vic Juris

the jazz warrior

The following pieces were written by a select few who knew
Vic Juris closely and worked with him over the years. I would
like to thank Gunnar Mossblad for taking charge and helping
to compile this information. The shorter quotes at the end
came from the program at Vic’s memorial service.

It goes without saying that Vic Juris was a huge inspiration
for guitarists everywhere. Upon learning the news of his
stage 4 liver cancer diagnoses, Gunnar set up a GoFundMe
account to help with all of the costs associated with such a
situation. Starting on June 27, 2019, the fund has raised over
$111,000 for the family. There were 1400 donors and the ad
was shared over 8500 times. Donations came from all over
the world, including jazz and commercial music legends,
10 | the note | summer/fall 2020

students, followers that heard Vic play sometimes only once,
and many that had been following him for years.
The GoFundMe address is:
https://www.gofundme.com/f/vic-juris-needs-out-help
To the Pocono audience, Vic was as much a local musician
as anyone else from the area. He played at the Deer Head
Inn constantly and in the past 10 years or so was noticeably
working with more musicians of the younger generation and
really making a name for himself as a headlining solo artist.
He was incredibly generous, funny, talented, and admired by
anyone who met him or heard him play. Here is what some
of Vic Juris’ closest friends and musical partners have to say
about his life, his personality and his music.

Dave Liebman
Saxophonist, composer, educator

My first memory of Vic was at a clinic in Germany sometime
in the mid 1980s. There were a lot of teachers and students
attending but I do remember taking note that there was
something special in Vic’s playing and importantly his
general demeanor. I could tell he was ready, truly interested
in expanding his horizons and had a desire to communicate
beyond clichés. After years of meeting musicians far and wide
I can tell certain things… subtle stuff… but basically when
they are fueled by a desire to learn more. When I observe
that attitude it rings a bell. Vic was as I could tell, ready for
prime time!!
By 1991 I was ready for a new group using keyboards and
guitar. My band leading experience with a guitar had been
the Dave Liebman Group featuring John Scofield for a few
years around 1980. My concept for this new group was to
use the guitar as a quasi-second horn, leaving the chordal
information to the piano. I organized a “jam session” with my
choices for the band, which besides Vic included the perennial
Tony Marino, Jamey Haddad and Phil Markowitz. After a few
standards (best to hear someone playing straight ahead for
starters) it felt good and we started rehearsing. Vic was fine
with the role of the guitar at that time and off we went… for the
next 20 plus years doing the dance: teaching… performing…
touring and recording, encompassing a repertoire ranging
from Ornette Coleman’s music to original material totaling
nearly 20 CD releases in the several incarnations of this group.
Vic also started writing seriously for the band… great and
challenging tunes.
My initial supposition from Germany proved correct. Vic was a
sponge who wanted to learn and was willing to put the time in.
When the Dave Liebman Group became a quartet sans piano
by the mid ‘90s, Vic had a lot on his plate. Besides the eclectic
nature of my musical tastes and constant idiomatic detours,
I encouraged Vic to use pedals, incorporate electronic based
effects as well as the acoustic guitar. He was constantly trying
out new sounds… I loved it! And now in a quartet setting, Vic
was the major soloist after me. To put it mildly Mr. Juris had a
lot on his proverbial plate!! The saving grace was that Vic just
“happens” to be the most serious musician I have known. He
was always ready with his cassette machine to tape what he
wanted to shed for the next rehearsal… clarifying a voicing
and so on. With my chromatic stuff it was a challenge to adapt
and transplant piano voicings to guitar, some heavy lifting to
say the least. Vic took it to heart… going sometimes note for
note. I never witnessed such change and development of a
musician over a period of time. And of course there was the
blues part of his playing having spent some time with organ
trios as well as good old rock ‘n’ roll… after all Vic belonged to
that special fraternity of New Jersey guitarists.

That’s the musical side, but with Vic there’s more. Besides
having an incredible desire to go ANYWHERE (we toured a
lot), he loved to play. In New York, Vic worked all the time as
well as teaching (students loved him). His books on voicings
and other guitar issues were inspiring. There were semesters
where he was teaching at three schools each week in the
New York area.
As a man Vic was one of the sweetest, most caring and
generous people I have ever known. Along with wife Kate
(I was best man for the wedding) their musical duo was
fantastic. Kate can really sing! Their love and respect for each
other was obvious. When he left us, Vic was just receiving
some long-deserved notoriety and beginning to work as a
leader more and more. His reputation was growing as one
of the baddest cats on guitar whose time had finally come.
We all miss Vic. He touched a lot of lives. For me it was a
privilege to have spent nearly 25 years with this Prince of a
man on and off the bandstand. RIP my brother!!
Photo by Adrien H Tillmann

Dave Stryker
Jazz Guitarist

I was lucky to have Vic Juris as a friend for the last 25 years.
When he and Kate were looking to buy a house I told him
about the one across the street from us... As I’ve said before,
I hoped that when I moved out to New Jersey that I would
have been the best guitar player on my block at least… oh
well haha...
The late great John Abercrombie said it best: “Vic is the best,
there are none better.”
Vic was New Jersey. But Vic also was the world. All of us
knew that this was one of the greatest to ever pick up a
guitar. There is not one guitarist alive who doesn’t give it up
to Vic Juris. Those of us that play music know the time and
dedication it takes to reach that level of artistry. Vic put in
the hard work but also had that special magic…
summer/fall 2020 | the note | 11

I feel very lucky for our friendship for the last 25 years and
especially the time we spent together at the end doing what
any friends would do. Mainly just hanging out, talking and
playing a few tunes.
Because of all of the great performances and recordings Vic
made we that were lucky to hear over the years, his music
will live on. But especially through the hundreds of students
he taught over the years at his house and in college. Several
of them also stepped up when Vic got sick by coming over
to play and hang. That is where his legacy will live on from
having passed his knowledge on so freely.
I like to think of the words of Dr. Seuss: “Don’t cry because
it’s over, smile because it happened.”
Rest In Peace my friend, I think of you often. Thanks for the
music and friendship.

Dave Stryker, Vic and Bucky Pizzarelli

Todd Coolman

Jazz Bassist/Director of Jazz Studies: SUNY Purchase
I first met Vic Juris at various jam sessions in New York
City shortly after I moved from Chicago in the Fall of 1978.
Sessions were going on day and night in several lofts around
town, and I was able to meet and play with huge numbers of
great musicians just by showing up. I knew Vic could really
play, but we were not yet in the same circles of musicians, so
I did not see him all that often.
Some years later, I was the Director of Jazz Studies at SUNY
Purchase College. I had hired John Abercrombie to be one of
our guitar instructors. As fate would have it, John became ill
after having been on our faculty for quite a few years, and
his illness eventually led to his passing.
I was aware that Vic had been teaching at various other
colleges on a part-time basis, and by this time, Vic’s visibility
as a very in-demand guitarist on the New York scene was quite
high. I offered Vic the guitar instructor position specifically
to be himself and to bring his unique skills to the table.
12 | the note | summer/fall 2020

Vic surpassed my highest expectations in every respect,
and his presence strengthened our program, for sure.
As great a guitarist and educator as Vic was, I came to
understand that he was an even greater person. He was
always thoughtful, respectful, and generally a quiet and
amazingly egoless individual. He always seemed like “the
guy next door” to me. He was so down to earth, so kind
and compassionate. I never heard him say one negative
thing about another person, be they musician or not, nor
did I ever hear him complain about anything. He was a
team player. He showed up and did his job to a consistently
high standard, often exhibiting a wry and subtle sense of
humor that brightened many a day for all who knew him.
Unfortunately, the heavens had a plan for him that
included a bout with cancer that he eventually succumbed
to. It was during his illness that I became closest with Vic.
I would visit with him as frequently as I could, first when
he was hospitalized, and afterward when he was trying to
recuperate at home. I would often take my bass and we
would play a few tunes together.
What I would like others to know about Vic Juris the
person is that from the moment he got his diagnosis, right
up to the time he passed, his overwhelming concern was
for others. Each time I visited him, he would ask me how
I was doing, how our mutual friends were doing, how his
students were doing, and so forth. He was determined to
stay in touch with all of us and let us know he was thinking
of us and caring for us. He never spoke of his illness nor
did he let on that he was in extreme pain and discomfort
at times.
Vic Juris was a selfless individual who lived for the music,
for his loved ones, and for all who had the honor of knowing
him, either on or off the bandstand. His passing has left a
hole in my world that will remain for the rest of my time in
this life. Keep swingin’ Vic!

Jay Anderson

Jazz Bassist
Few people are fortunate enough to find the thing they
were put on this earth to do. Vic was one of those people.
His musical gifts were enormous, his work ethic strong, and
his desire to grow and learn insatiable.
I met Vic in the late 80s playing in and around New York
City. Since then, we played hundreds of gigs together. I first
recorded with him in 1991 and played bass on 15 of his
recordings. It goes without saying… his playing was never
anything less than spectacular, but he was also a composer,
arranger, bandleader, mentor and teacher of the highest
order. Loved by all.

Vic was always respectful and professional. I can’t remember
one time where I got to a gig before Vic, and I’m always
early. I’d arrive and Vic would already be set up and ready to
play… every time.
Vic had amazing hand-eye coordination. Around 1990
we were doing a record date in Stamford, CT. There was a
basketball hoop set up behind the studio. Vic walked out,
lit a cigarette (he quit shortly thereafter), and picked up the
basketball. He casually made a few baskets in a row with
one hand, smoking with the other. We all began to take
notice and egged him on, telling him to back up with each
consecutive shot. He ended up around 15 feet away (freethrow line distance), and continued to nail every shot (20?)
as he smoked. In his typical understated way, he put the ball
back down and went back into the studio.
For over 10 years we played a trio gig once a month at the
55 Bar in NYC with Adam Nussbaum. We’d play a mix of
tunes…Standards, Ornette, Monk, Bill Evans, Bud Powell,
Keith Jarrett, Albert Ayler, Wayne Shorter, and The Beatles
to name a few. Before the gig, Vic would hand out the music.
He would always toss each sheet of music to us individually
from 10 feet away, the way a magician tosses cards into a hat.
Every time it would come straight to me. It sounds silly, but
try it. Not easy to do. He just had an innate understanding
of movement, the physical world and his relationship to it.
Among those tunes he handed out were his originals, old
and new. I’d ask what a new tune was into (we’d rarely
rehearse). He’d say something like “straight eights, play
the last eight as an intro… just do your thing.” It was never
precious to him. There was mutual trust. The music was
always hand written with perfect/clear manuscript, not
computer generated. It could be free, swinging, beautiful,
quirky, Brazilian, up-tempo or folky… always great. I’d ask
him about it and he would reply, “it’s just something I
wrote the other day.” There was never any speech about his
inspiration or process. He was too humble and self-assured
for that.
I consider my personal and musical relationship with Vic to
be among the greatest gifts of my life. His Spirit will always
be with me.

Jay Anderson, Vic, and Adam
Nussbaum at the 55 Bar, NYC.
Photo by Kyra Kverno

Adam Nussbaum
Jazz Drummer

It’s difficult for me to begin something like this because I
miss my musical colleague and friend. Vic as we know was
one of the best... we first played together in the 80s in a
guitar summit with John Abercrombie, Chuck Loeb and John
Scofield as well as in other configurations.
I’m grateful and feel very fortunate that we were able to
get together with Jay Anderson the first Sunday of every
month for over 10 years at the 55 Bar. We played the 6 PM
set or as I used to call it “The early bird special.” The music
we played was a variety of his originals some standards and
more. The gift of the situation was that we were able to truly
learn to trust each other. Every time we played there was an
opportunity to get deeper into it and consequently open it
up. Vic always had an open mind to what was happening on
the bandstand. I know I can also speak for my friend Jay that
we are very thankful to have had this special dynamic. We
had a green light. This was one of those situations that I will
always cherish and it will be with me forever. Thank you Vic.

Rufus Reid
Jazz Bassist/Composer

I began my 40-year relationship with Vic Juris in 1979 when
I asked him to join our newly found jazz faculty at William
Paterson University. The Jazz Studies and Performance degree
program is still viable and strong today. Little did I know, at
that time, this academic setting would develop and blossom
to become a most gratifying and personal relationship for
Vic and I. Vic’s personality was always understated while at
times shockingly funny! His guitar playing was astonishing
and fearless. His feel and harmonic awareness were broad
and deep, no matter the style! Vic’s supportive comping role
was always solid, but he always enhanced the music with a
deep groove and surprises beyond anyone’s expectations.
That alone always gave me goose bumps and a big smile,
every time!
The students at WPU loved Vic and they all worked hard
for him as he prepared them toward becoming world-class
musicians, as he was. Vic Juris was a passionate teacher of
the guitar who also taught the value of being honest to the
music and to oneself. Vic was in-demand as a player who
also possessed the skill to communicate at a high level. As
director of the WPU program, I was very confident that the
guitar students were being well taken care of.
summer/fall 2020 | the note | 13

Vic Juris, as a man, was sweet, humorous, very humble,
totally without ego, and not an evil bone in his body! His
musical ability was stunningly brilliant every time he
picked up his instrument. Vic Juris’ musical breath was
astonishingly deep, no matter the style. His mere presence
made any musical ensemble rise to new heights! His musical
consistency was valued by all of us. In 2013, he recorded my
big band music, QUIET PRIDE-The Elizabeth Catlett Project.
In 2017, and more recently, October 2019, we performed
with that ensemble at Dizzy’s Club Coca-Cola in NYC. I will
treasure these performances. I will miss all he has given to
me, especially the musical surprises he dropped on all of us!
All who were fortunate to make music with Vic will never
forget his musical essence. We all are better for having Vic
Juris in our lives.

Gunnar Mossblad
Saxophonist & arranger/composer/educator
Director of the Dave Liebman Big Band

I was fortunate to have enjoyed a friendship and musical
relationship with Vic Juris for many years. I met Vic in
1991, when Dave Liebman invited me to a club in NYC to
hear a potential guitar player he was considering hiring for
his new group. I was currently on sabbatical, living in NYC
and studying with Lieb. I figured it would be a great night
and sure enough it was. In addition to a unique sound and
approach to the music that was grounded in the blues, Vic
had a confidence to his playing that was powerful but not
overstated, and supportive and flexible, reacting to the
music that was being made at the moment. This was a
quality that I would hear every time I heard or played with
Vic. He was doing things that were unique to the guitar.
Over the next few years, Vic’s playing “took off” in Lieb’s
new group, and I often wondered why he wasn’t a bigger
headline act.
In 2000 Lieb decided to put a big band together using
his core small group as the rhythm sections, but adding
a piano player. As the music director of the group, I had
the opportunity to work more closely with Vic, and got
to know him better both personally and as a player. He
was always fully prepared for every rehearsal of what
was very difficult music. Whether Vic’s role was harmonic
and rhythmic accompaniments, “shadowing” Liebman on
rubato melodies, taking the lead line with one or more
of the horn sections or soloing, his playing was “on the
money” and he was aware of everything that was going
on around him, humbly contributing to all aspects of the
performance. It was clear the music was everything to Vic.
14 | the note | summer/fall 2020

When the Dave Liebman Big Band was touring, we often held
master classes and clinics. Vic was very articulate about his
role in the rhythm section, how he approached the music,
and offered specific technics that the students could practice.
By 2007, we knew each other well, and it was only logical to
ask Vic to be apart of the Jazz Camp I developed to present
at my university in Toledo, Ohio. With Vic and Jon Hendricks
as the guest headliners, the camp was a tremendous success,
and I had the pleasure of playing concerts with Vic every day in
numerous musical settings from quartet and quintets to duos
and trios. Whether we were playing standards or originals, he
was ready to play and teach all day and night long.
The camp was populated with adults, college students, and
secondary students as young as 14 years of age. I doubt that
too many of the students realized the caliber of musician
they were working with, but his ability to communicate
complex musical concepts to all levels of student, and his
sincere delivery endeared him to the students. In fact, Vic’s
contributions personally, musically, and educationally were
so valuable, I made him a permanent faculty member of
the annual camp, and many students returned to the camp,
year after year, to study and interact with him. To many, he
became “Uncle Vic.”
Overall, whether he was playing someone else’s music
or his own, Vic’s playing was deep, and always evolving
based on the experiences in his musical and personal life.
He was a beautiful, giving person who shared his life and
music with all who would listen. The inner circle of jazz
musicians has always respected him, but in recent years, I
believe he was given a taste of the professional notoriety
that he deserved. His reputation and legacy will continue
to grow and contribute to a great wealth of students, lucky
enough to study with
Vic. Personally, I will
always feel blessed to
have been apart of Vic’s
personal and musical
life. No matter what gig
he played, Vic made it
meaningful and fun.

Pat Martino
Jazz Guitarist

The loss of Vic Juris has been overwhelming for all of us.
To say that Vic was a great jazz guitarist is, and was, an
understatement, maybe because he was continually greater
as a human being. He certainly left an incredible mark on the
history of our instrument with his love.

Pat Metheny
Jazz Guitarist

I first heard Vic with Barry Miles around 1975 when we
were both just starting out. Right away, he became one
of my favorites. He sounded fantastic in any situation no
matter what the context. He was a great straight-ahead
player but had the kind of open ears and imagination to be
able to address virtually any playing environment, not only
with excellence and depth, but with an identity of his own
– you always knew it was Vic playing. And it was no surprise
that he sounded amazing – he was a beautiful person. I
always learned from him whenever I heard him. He may
be one of the only people on any instrument who had totally
absorbed Lieb’s harmonic vocabulary and was free inside that
world like no other. With that kind of insight combined with
his already deep pocket and great sound – it was everything
all in one place and I remained even more in awe of him as
the years went by. We will all miss Vic, and there is a huge
space in the realm of creative music left in his wake.

John Scofield
Jazz Guitarist

Vic Juris was as good a jazz guitarist as one could be but his
talent as a human being exceeded even that. I always loved
Vic and thought he was one of the kindest, most open and
thoughtful people I knew as well as a superb musician. He
will be greatly missed.

Paul Simon

Singer/Songwriter, Guitarist
Vic was a superb player and teacher and one of the kindest
souls; a rare combination.

Kate Baker
Vic Juris’ Wife

The lessons I have learned through this journey will stay
with me forever. The lesson was love. Once in your life if
you are lucky enough, you meet someone that turns your
world around. I met Vic. It was a love that will last me
a lifetime.

When Vic was diagnosed with cancer and we knew how
serious this was, our world as we knew it stopped. In one
moment, our priorities were brought into perspective.
We stopped everything and we focused on us, we learned
to live each day for the moment and we found love in the
little things. We found it in meaningful talks, the love in
a smile, in the music in making breakfast and in our dear
friends. Vic and I could talk without words. We fought a
hard fight together and found the gift of love in the deepest
way possible.
When Vic was in the hospital it was a very difficult time. I
brought him his guitar but he wouldn’t touch it, then when
Gunnar and Dave started the GoFundMe and he saw how
much he was loved, he cried and he picked up the guitar.
That was the start for him and gave him true hope. The
next few months in between chemo treatments, his dear
friends would come over and some of the most beautiful
music I have even heard was played in our living room.
The music was no longer about getting ready for a gig or
a project but instead, heart came through in each note as
the love came through the music. We performed during
those six months and even though Vic could not feel
his fingers and lost most of his hearing, he never played
better. I look back on those times and I remember finally
getting it. I remember playing and you could hear a pin
drop on every note, there was no longer any “try” in the
music. Instead there was just trust, communication, spirit
and love. It came from everywhere.
Vic and I didn’t have children but instead we had about
100 of them, all of our students! Vic’s boys were a
godsend. They would come over and play with him, he
would mentor them till the last week. The boys truly
loved Vic and Vic truly loved them. I remember talking
to Vic and saying, “Vic you know your life is exactly how
it should be, there was a reason you were not touring
all the time, it was because you were meant to do this.
You were chosen to pass down the music and also teach
these boys about life. You are exactly where you should
be. A bad ass player and artist, an amazing husband and
a mentor to your 100 children.”
I will leave you with one last story: When Vic was coming
out of anesthesia after another biopsy, I was in the room
with him and he was a little groggy. He said, “Kate - I know
it, I know the secret.” I said, “Vic what is the secret!” He
said, “Improvisation is a gift, a real spiritual gift, and that is
why I know there is a God.”
It has been over six months without Vic but i know that we
all still carry a piece of him with us. I hear his voice in mine
and I am grateful for our ride through life together. Until
we meet again. n
summer/fall 2020 | the note | 15

16 | the note | summer/fall 2020

Zoot Sims and
Al Cohn
Ray Ellis Recording Session
Photo by Al Stewart

Photo by Jack Bradley

summer/fall 2020 | the note | 17

Jam Sessions: A Basic guide for New Players
By Rob Scheps

When going to a jam session in a club or at
a school... what do you do if they call a tune
you don’t know? Unless you have a wealth
of experience, I’d recommend SITTING
DOWN. Don’t be so arrogant or ignorant
that you get up there and hack away at a
tune you don’t know. Better etiquette and
musicality would dictate that going home
and learning said tune for next time is the
best method to deal with this.
That said, if there is some flexibility at
the session, you could request that they
play another tune. It’s often unsaid, but it
seems that if you say no to the first two
tunes called, it would behoove you to
know the third one!
There is no shame in saying, “I don’t really
know this tune, so I’ll sit this one out.”
Rather than shaming you for not knowing
the tune, you are actually being more
mature and musical by doing this.
Etiquette for jam sessions: A few
helpful hints
Sign the list if there is one, then wait
your turn.
If there’s no list, try to introduce yourself
to the leader at an opportune moment.
Just say who you are, your instrument, and
that you’d like to play if it’s cool. Don’t go
onstage until you’re called up.
When you do get up there, don’t call
obscure tunes that nobody knows. It’s ok
to call things like “Nica’s Dream” or “All The
Things You Are.” It is NOT ok to call “The
Brain” by Chick Corea or “Applejackin” by
Herbie Nichols. The spirit of the session
is to find some common ground and play
tunes that most or all of the participants
know. Use common sense here!

Conversely, if you are not the one calling the tune, try to go along amiably if
it’s a tune you know and can play reasonably well. If you don’t know it, you
have three options:
1) Say, “Can we play different tune?”
2) Stay and hang - play the tune if you think you can reasonably get through it
without disrespecting the music.
3) Say, “It’s cool, I’ll sit this one out.”

Don’t take too many choruses. If you do, you can be perceived as either young
or selfish, or maybe both! An unsaid axiom of jam sessions is, “Don’t play too
long!” You aren’t John Coltrane on “Live in Seattle,” you don’t get a 30 minute
solo. It’s inconsiderate, and you don’t have that much to say! When you are
conscientious about how long you play, you’re showing consideration to the
other musicians and the audience, as well as being musical to boot.
Some folks find it helpful to take a list of tunes they know to a session, whether
it’s paper in your pocket or a list on your phone. For those who freeze up and
can’t remember what tunes to call at the actual session, this can be a big help.
Glance at it when trying to think of what to call. A simple list can be a helpful
tool in the heat of the moment.
Here’s an unwritten rule: After you’ve played two tunes, thank the other cats
and leave the stage voluntarily. By doing this, you’re letting them know you’re
not greedy and don’t expect to play all night. Only stay on the bandstand
longer than two tunes if they ASK you to. This can go a long way in keeping
things nice for all the cats who are jockeying to get up there too. It also shows
you to be a reasonable, mature musician who is considerate.
This tip can help you learn more tunes: Make a list of the tunes played at the
session that you DIDN’T know. Take it home and learn those tunes for next
time. We can grow from observing what tunes get called.
Another unwritten rule: A session at a club requires the deference and
flexibility outlined above. However, a private jam at someone’s house or at
the Musician’s Union has looser parameters. You might be able to experiment,
play a bit longer, or even bring some tunes that are uncommon to play. Finally,
depending on the cats you’re playing with, you might even be able to bring
and play some original compositions. Try to analyze each situation as well as
you can to make these determinations.
A final caveat about jam sessions: If you get your head handed to you, like
you fell apart on a fast “Cherokee,” you hated your solo, or you turned the
time around, don’t despair. The best approach is always: go home; lick your
wounds; work on the stuff that tripped you up; get back on the horse. Charlie
Parker did it, as well as many others. It takes some courage but this attitude
will serve you well as you learn and grow.

For more information about Rob Scheps, visit his website at robschepsmusic.com
Also, check out his newest recording, Comencio, available on amazon.com
from Steeple Chase Records. n

Interview with

Bill Holman
By Patrick Dorian and Matt Vashlishan

Pat Dorian: Bill thank you very much for taking the time to
speak with us. We are both honored and pleased that you
would be willing to speak about all of these great people in
the jazz universe with us... Zoot, Al, and so many more.
Matt Vashlishan: Yes, thank you. Today is April 30th, 2020
and Pat Dorian and I are speaking with composer, arranger,
and saxophonist Bill Holman [from his home near North
Hollywood, CA].
PD: Can we start out with how you first found out about
Zoot? You revered him. You were both on the Kenton
Orchestra in the late spring of 1953 when he was 27 and
you were 26.

Bill Holman
Photo by Lesley Bohm

Bill Holman is one of the most prolific and respected
composers of the jazz genre, particularly for the large jazz
ensemble. His career began six decades ago with the Charlie
Barnet Orchestra, and he has been a household name
among jazz musicians and enthusiasts ever since. I have
particularly looked up to him over the years, as his music is
something that speaks to my tastes directly. I have always
jumped at the chance to hear, perform, or study any of his
compositions. Bill was especially generous with his time and
recollections during this interview that went on for nearly
two hours. Getting the chance to experience his intelligent,
witty personality and stories of the past was a wonderful
experience after listening to his music for so many years.
Explanatory material is included between square brackets
( [ ] ). We hope readers will appreciate this extra information,
which adds further depth to Bill Holman’s remarkable
commentary. His spirited thoughts encourage (re)exploration
by our readers.

Bill Holman: Well I first found out about Zoot by hearing
Woody Herman’s record “I Told Ya I Loved Ya, Now Get Out”
[recorded October 19, 1947, in Hollywood]. I haven’t heard
that thing in many, many years. There was a solo break
[where everybody stopped], and the tenor player played
this two- or four-bar break and it just put me away. I wasn’t
even playing music at that time. I was studying engineering
at UCLA. I wasn’t much of a player yet but that little break
really got to me and I never forgot it. I never dreamed that I
would meet and be friends with the guy that did it. Several
years went by when I was learning how to play and starting
to write, and I finally found out who it was who played the
solo on Woody’s record. So I started listening to all the Zoot
that I could.
PD: Yeah, that’s great. I have that recording here, do you mind
if I play a little of that Zoot solo and see what you think of it?
BH: Sure.
PD: [Plays recording] It’s very relaxed.
BH: Yeah, you know as far as I can remember I never heard a
saxophone sound like that. It was a Lester Young influenced
sound. But I was listening to Dexter Gordon and Coleman
Hawkins and Zoot was just different. It was even different
than Prez [Lester Young], whom I heard a lot of. There was
just something that really connected with me.
PD: Beautiful, because right around there in 1947 you were
turning 20, which is that pivotal age where you find your
own thing and keep going with it.
summer/fall 2020 | the note | 19

BH: I was on Charlie Barnet’s band in 1951 and we played
the Apollo [Theater] in [Harlem] New York for a week. That
may have been the first time I heard Zoot in person. Just
watching him play and watching him when he wasn’t playing
on the stand, he had what I felt was a fierce expression on
his face. Even though I still didn’t know him, I was afraid of
him. [laughs] I didn’t want to offend him in any way, so I
didn’t talk to him until I went back to New York on Kenton’s
band [spring 1953] and he was playing on an off night at
Birdland. I naturally went down to hear him and made up
my mind that I was going to meet him and introduce myself.
On the break I went over and said, “I’m Bill and I’m playing
with Kenton.” And to my surprise he was very friendly!
He was a really warm and friendly guy behind that fierce
expression. So I said, “Why don’t you come over to my
hotel room?” He was on the break, so we went over to
the hotel and got high. He was expounding on what a
great thing it was for two people to meet and to bond over
smoking dope. He was just really a pleasure to be with.
When I heard a couple of nights later that Stan Kenton
was talking to him about coming on the band, I was
just beside myself. And it finally happened! He showed
up and remembered who I was from our first meeting,
and I was determined to become friends with him.
It was very easy, because he was very welcoming.
When he first joined the band we were traveling in busses.
He would wander up and down the bus aisle singing little
ditties. He did one to a Lester Young solo. He wrote lyrics to
it: “My name is Zootie Sims… I play the saxophone... Hello!
Hello everybody, hello!” All kinds of things like that.
Zoot was just happy, singing songs and cracking jokes. The
usual feeling on the bus was one of resignation. 200 miles
to go today... , etc. Most of us just said, “OK, let’s read
a book or something.” Zoot was having none of that. He
wanted to live his life even though he was on a bus.
Later we were traveling in cars. I was driving one of the
cars, and Zoot got into my car. I think it was Lee Konitz,
Zoot, Bobby Burgess and myself in my car. It was a good
group because we all loved each other. We could talk about
anything musically or personally or whatever.
PD: Without interstate highways as well.
BH: Yeah. The Europe trip eventually came up [AugustSeptember 1953] and in Germany we all bought cameras.
Germany was the place for cameras. Every time the bus
had a rest stop we would pile out of the bus and take
pictures of each other. Zoot had a Rolleiflex and he was
out there shooting with the rest of us.
In a concert in Berlin, Zoot was wearing his space shoes. They
were specially made shoes built around the mold of your
foot. They looked really funny. Between one of the tunes,
20 | the note | summer/fall 2020

Stan came over to Zoot and said, “Jack, I don’t want you
to wear those shoes on the [band]stand anymore.” So
we finished the set and went out for an intermission and
Stan was talking business with a bunch of Capitol Records
executives. Zoot goes right up to them and said, “Stan, what
do your shoes cost?” Stan says, “Not now Jack, I’m busy.”
Zoot said, “I want to talk about it now. What do your shoes
cost?” Stan said he didn’t remember, and Zoot says, “Well
my shoes cost $80,” which at that time was a pretty stiff price
for shoes. I don’t know how it went on after that but the
fact that Zoot busted up one of Stan’s business conferences
about his shoes tells you how he was.
Stan always called Zoot Jack [Zoot’s given name was John]. It
was maybe a little too light to call him Zoot.
PD: It almost sounds like when Zoot would bang heads with
Benny Goodman in Russia.
BH: Well [laughs], a lot of people did that!
PD: I see the concert in Berlin was at the Sportpalast
[Sporthalle] on August 27, 1953. [The Kenton Band
with Zoot featured on an improvised solo, Bill, and a
remarkable personnel appeared in the 1953 German film
“Schlagerparade” (“Hit Parade”), filmed on August 27, 1953,
at the Sporthalle in Berlin. A two-minute video segment is
viewable on YouTube at “Stan Kenton: Berlin, 1953.”]
BH: When we got back from Europe we were traveling on
the bus and we had a bus accident on the Pennsylvania
Turnpike on November 11th. We rear-ended a truck and
several people got hurt. The road manager got hurt, and the
whole trombone section had facial injuries so they couldn’t
play. When we got to Cleveland, Stan said he wanted to
have a rehearsal because he had to have Bill Russo contact
some trombone players from Chicago to fill in. Of course
they didn’t know the book, so he wanted the rehearsal. Of
course Zoot says, “Well, we know our parts, why do we have
to rehearse?” Stan says, “Because I said so, Jack.” So Zoot
just keeps saying, “Why do we have to rehearse?,” over and
over and wouldn’t back down. So Stan finally said, “I think
you should give your notice.” Zoot said, “OK, you got it.”
Two weeks later he left. On the night that he left, I gave my
notice. I didn’t see myself having much fun after Zoot left. I
returned to L.A. and to scuffling.
MV: Did you ever talk about saxophone playing, sound,
concepts or playing music with Zoot? Or were your
discussions purely based on non-musical friendship?
BH: No, I’m not a good communicator. Whatever Zoot
wanted to talk about, that’s what we talked about. It wasn’t
usually about music.
MV: You wrote a tune called “Zoot” for Stan Kenton’s band,
correct? How did that tune come about? Was it through a
conversation with Stan or Zoot? What was your inspiration
for it?

Those records never did really well. They were something
a little different than what Les Brown fans were used to
buying. [The session was released as “Jazz Song Book” on the
Coral label and also featured clarinetist Buddy DeFranco.]
PD: I see in the Jazz Discography by Tom Lord that you arranged
for a December 4-5, 1957 session for Gerry Mulligan’s Octet
which was released as “Gerry Mulligan Songbook Volume
1.” It was a band with Zoot and Al Cohn, Lee Konitz, Gerry
Mulligan, and no piano but Freddie Green on guitar.
BH: Yeah, originally the idea was to record that in L.A.
When Dick Bock called me, that was the plan.
PD: Dick Bock from Pacific Jazz Records?
BH: Yeah. We were going to use bass and drums and no
guitar. But one thing led to another and delayed it, so long
that Gerry had to go back to New York and he took the
charts with him and recorded it with all New York people.
That made me happy because at the time I would rather
listen to New York people than L.A. people. We added the
guitar, which was probably Gerry’s idea.

Zoot, Bill Holman and Stu Williamson - Hollywood 1964

BH: Stan told me that he wanted me to write a chart for
Zoot. That’s all the guidance he gave me. I didn’t talk to
Zoot about it because I was on a tight rope with Stan about
writing. I wanted to write swing charts, but Stan wanted
more progressive jazz. I wanted to swing more. I didn’t
want to go too far in my direction to make Stan unhappy,
so I tried to find a middle groove. I had been trying to do
that since Stan started buying charts from me. I wanted to
satisfy us both if possible. But I was young and didn’t really
know. I wrote what I thought would be an attractive thing
for Zoot and suitable for Stan. It went OK except when I
was riding back from the first rehearsal with Stan where
we played it, he said, “That was a good chart, but it was
a little like Basie wasn’t it?” And I responded, “Well, not
knowingly but I know it had to swing because it’s Zoot
Sims.” We let it lay there but I was very happy and proud
to have Zoot playing a piece of mine. [Eight live recordings
of the Kenton Band performing “Zoot” between July and
November 1953 are available.]
PD: The next topic I have here is that you were with Les
Brown with Zoot in March 19, 1959 on a recording session
in Hollywood. Does that bring up any memories?
BH: I do remember doing those things. I wasn’t a member
of the band, but Les had been making some records with
jazz players and Zoot was one of them. Another was
Frank Rosolino. I wrote the charts for Zoot and Frank.

PD: It’s five saxes, guitar, bass and drums: Lee Konitz,
Allen Eager, Zoot and Al, Gerry Mulligan, Freddie Green on
guitar, Henry Grimes on bass, and Dave Bailey on drums.
[Al Cohn performed on tenor AND baritone saxophones!]
That’s exciting. For a lot of the sax music that Al wrote for
just saxophones and rhythm section, like “The Sax Section”
[LP recorded in 1956] and so many other things he did,
here are Bill Holman arrangements of Gerry Mulligan tunes
with those icons of saxophone. I imagine you were really in
seventh heaven with that.
BH: Yeah, to work with Gerry’s tunes and knowing that
Gerry was going to be conducting the session and playing
on it made it very attractive to me.
PD: Do you still have those arrangements or did they go to
the Smithsonian?
BH: Gerry kept them. They could be in his collection in the
Library of Congress.
PD: Something that you were very generous with was
the music for the Al Cohn Memorial Jazz Collection Zoot
Fest performance that Matt and Bill Dobbins conducted of
“Hawthorne Nights.” Can we skip forward just about 20
years from the session in 1957 for Gerry Mulligan in New
York and head to Los Angeles in September of 1976? How
did “Hawthorne Nights” come about?
BH: [American jazz impresario] Norman Granz had called
me and wanted me to write an album for Basie. I got
to know Norman at that time and thought that now’s
the time to hit him up for a Zoot album. I asked him
about a record with Zoot and a big band, and he said, “I
would love to do a record with Zoot, but not a big band.
summer/fall 2020 | the note | 21

Can you do it with a smaller band?” So I said, “Sure.” I was
going to jump at the chance to do it any way that I could.
The name comes from a travelogue where they will say
“Paris Nights” or something like that to sound mysterious.
They use a name and add “nights” to generate some kind
of atmosphere. I called it “Hawthorne Nights” because
Zoot grew up in Hawthorne, California. So I was implying
soft summer breezes and palm trees and dancing girls in
Hawthorne, which never happened! I assembled a band
and told Norman that Zoot and I figured out a tentative
instrumentation that we both agreed on.
I’m not entirely happy with the record. The tempos were a
little too fast and I thought the rhythm section was pressing
too hard. But we got it done. In the process and during one of
Zoot’s solos I heard something wrong in the band, so I stopped
the take. Norman took exception to this. It was probably the
worst thing I could have done to stop the band while Zoot was
playing. My experience as a conductor on a record date was
that if you hear something wrong, you stop it so you can make
it right. Norman was really offended by that. I have been told
that after that, Norman was always talking about what a
phony I was and what a bad arranger I was. But I got past that.
MV: Do you remember how you selected the tunes?
BH: Zoot had one that he wrote, “Dark Cloud.” He sings that.
I don’t really remember the other tunes...
MV: “Main Stem,” “More Than You Know,” “Only a Rose,” “Girl
From Ipanema,” “I Got It Bad,” and there’s another original
of yours besides “Hawthorne Nights,” called “Fillings.”
BH: I think Zoot requested “Ipanema.”
MV: Did you write “Fillings” specifically for this date? Or was it
something from somewhere else?
BH: No, it was for the date. It was a takeoff of “Feelings”
which was a big tune at that time. I called it “Fillings” as in
a Lower Slobbovian version of “Feelings.” I was thinking of
the language spoken by the downtrodden residents in the
fictitious country of Lower Slobbovia, one of the regions
created by Al Capp for his hilarious hillbilly comic strip “’Lil
Abner” [published 1934-1977]. The residents had a mock
Russian accent and were always changing vowels around,
thus “Feelings” became “Fillings.” [The profound political
implications that Capp was communicating can be found
online. Start with “Wikipedia Lower Slobbovia.”]
PD: Oh, that’s a great story! I remember around 1975
this Brazilian singer named Morris Albert had a hit with
“Feelings.” That’s great!
Just to clarify the timeline here, you did the Count Basie LP
called “I Told You So” which was recorded in January of 1976
and “Hawthorne Nights” was recorded eight months later in
September of 1976.
22 | the note | summer/fall 2020

BH: A word about that Basie album – one of the tunes I
wrote on there I called “Told You So,” which is the way that
saying comes out a lot of the time. A lot of people don’t
bother saying, “I Told You So.” They just say, “Told You So.”
That was my thinking. One day I get a call from Norman.
He said, “About that tune, the saying is ‘I Told You So.’” So
I said, “Norman, in colloquial English sometimes we take
words out and take shortcuts. That’s how that sounds to
me. ‘I Told You So’ sounds very formal and rehearsed.” I
couldn’t sway him. So the record name came out as “I Told
You So” and the tune itself stayed as “Told You So.”
PD: You copyrighted it as “Told You So” so he couldn’t
change it?
BH: That’s right.
PD: Who is Alfy as in “Blues for Alfy” that is on that
same record?
BH: I was dating a woman named Ruth Price at the time
[mid-1970s] and that was the name of her dog. [Ruth Price
(b. 1938) continues to have a remarkable career in Los
Angeles as a singer, lyricist, and founder/owner of the nonprofit jazz club the Jazz Bakery, which she opened in 1992.
In July 1994, she sang on three tracks on the CD “Herb
Geller Plays the Al Cohn Songbook” by the Herb Geller
Quartet, released in 1996 on the Hep label in England (Hep
2066). One of the tracks features her singing the lyrics
she composed for Al Cohn’s “High on You.” In 2020 she
carries on while presenting live jazz throughout Southern
California, most recently in Santa Monica at the Ann & Jerry
Moss Theater (Jerry Moss is the “M” in the legendary A &
M Records). Bob Dorough & Dave Frishberg’s CD “Who’s on
First?” was recorded live in Los Angeles at the Jazz Bakery
in November 1999 for Blue Note Records with Ruth as the
announcer. For more about Ruth, visit https://jazzbakery.
org/about-us .]
PD: Johnny Mandel wrote a tune about Al Cohn called
“Here’s to Alvy” and I wasn’t sure if it was a similar thing.
BH: Also, Mandel wrote a tune about Al called “El Cajon.”
That’s a district out here in California. [When said with a
Latin inflection] it almost sounds like Al’s name.
PD: That’s right and Dave Frishberg wrote lyrics for it.
Speaking of Al, would you like to talk about him at all?
I notice you arranged for Al on LP’s for Woody Herman,
such as “Third Herd” in 1954. Both of you also wrote for
the Maynard Ferguson “Birdland” volume one and two in
September of 1956. You were both arrangers on several
recordings that you did not play on, which demonstrates
your additional expertise at arranging while you were both
tenor players at heart.

BH: I didn’t know Al as well as I knew Zoot. I had heard
about Al or read about him in Downbeat Magazine or other
places. I listened to his writing a lot. He always gave me the
feeling that I could do this. His writing always sounded so
natural and unforced. To me it had a heavy Jewish content.
F minor was his favorite key. He wrote several charts that
I listened to a lot that were all in F minor. I got to know
him when I went back [to New York] in 1960 to work with
Gerry Mulligan and the Concert Jazz Band. He was such a
wise man along with his great playing and writing. I was
like being in heaven hanging around with those guys.
I heard that Al was a big W. C. Fields fan. So when he
was playing a club out here I went up to him and with no
introduction or anything I said, “Sneed Hearn.” Without
any hesitation he turns around and says, “Mahatma Kane
Jeeves.” [For these “unwashed” and neophyte interviewers,
it was an illumination to find out that Sneed Hearn and
Mahatma Kane Jeeves were but two of the bizarre names
that W.C. Fields concocted for characters in his movies.]
PD: That reminds me of the joke about the coat check
person in the Indian restaurant, “Mahatma Coat.”
BH: [laughs] I’ve never heard that! Mahatma Coat, oh
man, that made my day!
I made Al laugh one time in Germany. A group of us were
walking around in Cologne. We were doing a production
for the radio network.
PD: Featuring Al, right?
BH: Yeah, we were wandering around not paying attention
to where we were going. And eventually somebody says,
“Where are we?” and I say, “Right here!” And that broke Al
up and I was very proud of that.
PD: Our dear departed friend Wolfgang Knittel from
Delaware Water Gap transcribed your arrangements from
that date and we have some titles here: “Some Other
Spring,” “Woody ‘N You,” “Autumn Leaves,” “High On You,”
“Good Bait,” and “Love For Sale.” I’m glad you mentioned
that date featuring both Al Cohn and Sal Nistico.
BH: Another thing about that production was that I had
not been playing much. The producer suggested I bring my
tenor and play a bit. I’m thinking, “Me? Play with Al and
Sal?” It sounded like a terrible idea but he insisted. So I
went and did it anyway and didn’t sound as good as they
did but I did it. I loved both of those guys. It was a real
knockout to work with them for a few weeks.
PD: We were able to play some of those arrangements
adjusted for Wolfe’s local big band here, JARO [Jazz Artists
Repertory Orchestra]. Wolfe used one French horn, four
saxes, trombone, bass trombone, three trumpets and
rhythm section.

BH: So he transcribed the charts from that production?
PD: Yeah, Al was living here and Wolfgang worshipped
you. Wolfe would get up every day and arrange for the jazz
festival we do every September in Delaware Water Gap. He
would transcribe a year’s worth [a 45-minute set] of pieces
he wanted to play with his band. It is amazing the output
he produced. I used to joke he would take the day after the
festival off and the day after that would start the arranging
for 363 more days until the next festival.
It looks like the WDR gig was in Cologne, Germany in 1987
[WDR is the name of the renown jazz radio orchestra in
residence since 1946 at the West German Broadcasting
Corporation headquarters.]. Was Mel Lewis there with you
for that gig?
BH: Oh yeah!
PD: “Tenor Reunion” they called it [June 12, 1987, which was
eight months before Al’s death]. The tunes were “Pilgrim’s
Pride,” “Good Bait,” “Woody ‘N You,” Al Cohn’s “High On You,”
“Autumn Leaves,” “Love For Sale,” and “Moon of Manakoora.”
[This project also featured Sal Nistico, a tenor saxophonist,
and like Al, a Woody Herman Thundering Herd alumnus.]
BH: I have to comment about Mel Lewis being there. He was
on most of my productions. The band had a percussionist,
but often they had to hire a drummer to come over from the
states to play for the two weeks. I was tight with Mel, and
we got him on almost all of our productions. It was really a
help. He was just so musical and able to control the band
and was able to help me with his musicality. He could offer
punctuation points as the piece transitioned, and he could
remember it. People often talk about Buddy Rich as being
an “instant sight-reader” ... Mel could do that, too. Just once
through a piece and he could remember all of it. He had a
very good idea of the chart after one run-through. We were
also friends and I enjoyed the companionship.
PD: He was on Kenton’s Orchestra several months with you.
I know he was there after you for the “Cuban Fire!” LP [May
1956]. You two go back such a long way.
Do you have any comments about Phil Woods? He was so
close to all of you and he is one of the founders of our Al
Cohn Memorial Jazz Collection.
BH: Well there’s no need to talk about Phil’s playing!
Everybody knows what he can do. He was a really energetic
tough taskmaster. I remember there was a break on one of
the tunes and Phil played a solo break that was a little bit out
and the whole band flubbed the re-entrance. We stopped
and I told the band something about this and that, and I
told Phil, “Please be kind,” meaning please help us out a
little bit on the breaks. All Phil said was, “Pay attention!”
Well that was that!
summer/fall 2020 | the note | 23

PD: Was this when you arranged for recording sessions
that Phil played on for Jackie Cain [the “Bits and Pieces” LP,
recorded in March 1957] or for Charlie Barnet [the “More
Charlie Barnet” LP, recorded in September 1958]?
BH: Oh no, this was in Germany in Cologne [1989].
PD: So this was when you did some arrangements featuring
Phil for the WDR?
BH: Yeah, I did a lot of things over there.
PD: I didn’t know there was a date specifically with Phil.
BH: Yeah, I think there were a couple of them. That’s where
I met Phil. I didn’t know him before that.
MV: Did you write anything specifically for him? Or was he
playing pre-existing charts on this date?
BH: No, I wrote all these for him. I called him and we talked
about tunes.
PD: I have the tune list here now: Phil’s tune “Quill,”
“Round Midnight,” “Speak Low,” “Springfield Nights” Parts
1-3, “We’ll Be Together Again,” and “When the Sun Comes
Out.” Was “Springfield Nights” the same type of reference
as “Hawthorne Nights” since Hawthorne was where Zoot
grew up and Springfield [Massachusetts] was where Phil
grew up?
BH: Yes it was. I don’t remember much about that concert.
MV: I’m wondering if “Speak Low” was a different
arrangement than the one from your earlier big band
recording. Did you arrange that more than once?
BH: Yeah, it was different.
MV: If we could switch topics now, I was curious about
some of your writing and education background. You
speak about Gerry Mulligan a lot. As far as writing and
arranging, who were your major influences? You reference
Mulligan in terms of form, but who were your three major
influences? What major things did you pick up from people
that helped shape you as a composer?
BH: There were a few people that I knew about. I didn’t get
any direct musical ideas from them, but I was a big fan of
the early Basie band in the ‘30s and ‘40s. I didn’t know who
the arrangers were but I thought they were really great.
As it turns out a lot of those charts were head charts that
the band made up themselves. I knew about Eddie Sauter
[iconic arranger] from the one record he made for Benny
Goodman [probably recorded in 1940]. That stood out to
me. Gerry had a big hit with Gene Krupa’s band in 1947 and
that thing lasted on the radio for a couple of years called “Disc
Jockey Jump.” It was played all over the place. That was my
first exposure to Gerry. I liked that chart and made a note of
him, too. He came to L.A. in 1951 and that’s when he and Stan
connected.
24 | the note | summer/fall 2020

Gene Roland, who wrote a lot of music for Stan, was a good
friend of mine and one night at my house I was playing some
records for him. I put on a thing that was a dub of a chart I
wrote when I was at Westlake College of Music. It was a kind
of linear thing. He jumped up and said, “I think this is what
Stan is looking for!” Apparently Stan was talking to Gene
about changing the style of the band a little bit, things like
getting away from harmonic structures and leaning more
towards melody. Gene took this record to Stan while I was
on the road with Charlie Barnet and he told him my story.
Stan liked it and they arranged for Stan and me to meet.
When I got back in town I went to his place and we talked
about music. He suggested I write a couple of pieces for the
band. I said, “Sure.” I went home and wrote some charts
immediately.
I was so impressed with this situation that I over-wrote
the charts. They really didn’t hang together. I took them to
rehearsal and we made a mutual decision that they weren’t
what he was looking for. I thought to myself, “Well, that
cooks me with Kenton.” He was rehearsing a new band [late
1951-early 1952], and they needed a new tenor player so I
auditioned and got the gig as the tenor player. So I said, “Oh
good, Stan and I are back on again!”
Once I was on the band I couldn’t think of anything to
write. I kept thinking about the difference between Stan’s
conception and mine. I couldn’t figure out a way to make it
work at both ends. So I didn’t write anything for a long time.
Stan kept encouraging me saying, “Holman, when are you
going to write something?”
Several months went by - this is where Gerry comes in again.
He had written eight or 10 charts for the band. Some of
them were hot jazz and some of them were danceable. We
played quite a few of the dance charts every night. I got to
study his voicings, harmony, and the form of his charts. I was
getting acquainted with what jazz charts sounded like. That
gave me the confidence that if he could do it, then I will try.
I wrote a piece for Don Bagley called “Bags” [recorded 19
times, the first of which was a live recording on January 15,
1953, followed later in the month with the studio recording].
Stan liked it and said to keep on writing. I started writing
more and more, and more of them were accepted and the
band liked them.
Zoot Sims, Joe Maini and Bill Holman. Date
and location unknown. Bill Holman said
that Joe Maini “was an impossible person,
yet he had impeccable jazz ‘time’ both
on alto and tenor saxophones. Johnny
Mandel hired Joe for a recording session
and proclaimed him as the best lead alto
ever.” [Joe Maini was extremely close to
comedian Lenny Bruce. Maini died at age
34 in 1964 from a firearms accident. For
an enlightening 2010 interview with his
daughter, Tina, Google “jazzwax.com The
Truth About Joe Maini.”]

MV: You mentioned you had this chance to study Mulligan’s
writing. Were you studying scores or parts, or was this
purely you listening on the gig and paying attention to
what was happening?
BH: Just by playing and hearing what everything sounded
like and getting an idea for how the form felt.
MV: You studied composition at the Westlake College
of Music, right? Is that where you got your initial
understanding of writing and harmony?
BH: Yeah, I studied arranging there. The organizer of the
school envisioned turning out proficient commercial
musicians that could play or sing in any kind of band. He
said one of the best doubles you could take up is to sing
the third part in a vocal group. There were a few of us into
jazz and we didn’t want to hear about any of that! That
was the aim of the school, though. What usually happens
is the jazz group will form as a sub group, which is what we
did. The head of the school did not conceive of musicians
being composers, he just wanted a well-rounded student.
PD: Where there any teachers at Westlake that you feel
worked out well for you?
BH: There was a teacher named David Robertson from
Massachusetts. He was a genius. He could hear things and
knew ahead of time what you were doing when he heard
one of your pieces. He was great and so far ahead of us that
a lot of times we didn’t know what he was talking about.
I imagine private lessons with him would have been a real
plus. We were all on the G.I. Bill and we didn’t want to go
through the red tape of getting another teacher involved
since we were already enrolled in a certain schedule.
I eventually ended up studying privately with Russell Garcia.
He wrote an arranging book that is geared toward being a
successful working musician [“The Professional ArrangerComposer,” a compilation of Garcia’s assignments from the
late 1940s at Westlake, published in 1954]. He didn’t talk
about jazz much. But later it turns out that he did have
a jazz conception all his own, it just wasn’t mainstream.
Those were my two favorite guys.
MV: So it seems as far as jazz writing goes, you were relying
solely upon your life experience and what you could learn
from these situations, not necessarily formal instruction.
BH: Oh yeah. We all had a lot of jazz records and that’s
where you learn a lot of stuff. As far as I knew nobody
else in L.A. was really trying to write jazz inspired music.
Everybody in L.A. was concerned with studio work. I was
kind of a loner.
PD: The Westlake College of Music in Hollywood was
very new when you were there. It opened in 1945 and
was the first jazz academic institution in the country,

opening around the same time as the Schillinger House of
Music [started in Boston in 1945, becoming the Berklee
School of Music in 1954] to offer a college diploma that
offered a curriculum in jazz. It became a prototype for jazz
education in other schools.
BH: Yeah, I went there in early 1948 for a couple of years.
MV: I always wanted to know your thoughts on the process
of writing and arranging back in a time when there were no
computers or communication. You had to write a chart and
send it in the mail or take it to a rehearsal without really
hearing it. The process was much slower and I imagine
more difficult. Can you say anything about that?
BH: Well, things haven’t changed that much for me. I
don’t write on a computer so I can’t play things back. I still
write with a pencil and a large eraser! That was one of the
reasons I started my own band. I wanted to hear my music
not too long after I wrote it. I wanted to hear it at the right
tempo! I would send things off to bands, and I would hear
it two years later on the record, and they were invariably
too fast. Some of the leaders would make adjustments,
like Woody [Herman]. He felt no embarrassment about
changing a chart or adding something to it. Stan didn’t do
that, but he always played the tempos wrong. So I started
my own band to hear my music the way I wanted it. But the
actual writing part is pretty much the same.
[Six weeks later, on June 11, 2020, Bill told Pat that Woody
Herman performed Bill’s 1953 big band composition “Prez
Conference” live for over a year, yet when recording it for
the LP “The 3 Herds” on May 21, 1954, Woody changed the
title to “Mulligan Tawny” and inserted a Gerry Mulliganesque introduction with a prominent baritone sax part.
There are two Al Cohn classics on the same LP. In addition,
10 years later, when Woody Herman recorded Bill’s very
up-tempo and rollicking arrangement of “After You’ve
Gone,” Woody added an “interesting” and very slow and
mournful clarinet melody at the beginning and end of
the arrangement. As documented by several sources,
during this mid-day recording session on November 22,
1963 at Phil Ramone’s A & R Recording Studio on the 4th
floor of 112 W. 48th Street in New York, Woody and his
band members were informed that President Kennedy
had just been assassinated. After recording Bill Chase’s
eerily mournful arrangement of “A Taste of Honey,” it
was decided to end the session, whereupon several band
members went downstairs to the legendary Jim & Andy’s
jazz bar to process the tragedy.]
MV: Do you have any formal piano training?
BH: I use the piano, not exclusively but to check voicings
and work out harmonic changes. I’m a lousy piano player. I
never learned how to play but I got by.
summer/fall 2020 | the note | 25

MV: I want to ask you about two of my favorite records: “The
Fabulous Bill Holman” and “In a Jazz Orbit.” I’m curious how
those arrangements came about for those records.
BH: “In a Jazz Orbit” [recorded February 11, 1958, for the
Andex label] was my second experience with a producer for
Bethlehem Records. I was on a lot of small band dates for
him, and we talked about doing a big band album and he
gave me the go ahead. He said to write the music and we
would discuss recording it after I wrote it. So I wrote and
wrote and called him to ask when we could record. He said,
“Well, things are a little shaky now, can we put it off for a
little bit?” I reluctantly agreed and it went on and on and
never got better. It became apparent that he wasn’t going
to record it.
This had happened once before with my first record, “The
Fabulous Bill Holman” [recorded April 25, 1957, for the Coral
label]. They promised and then never recorded it. With that
one, drummer Shelly Manne had an arrangement with a
label to make four jazz records and picked my band to make
one of the four. So that was in 1957.
In 1958, I had all these other charts ready and went looking
for a label. I was doing some vocal charts for a label, and I
asked them one day if they were interested and they seemed
like they were. They came to a rehearsal and they loved it.
They said the band would sell itself, so we recorded it.
Looking back at the personnel for those records, it looks like
an all-star band, but I didn’t think of it that way. They were
just guys that I knew and people who’s playing I liked and
who could handle a recording date. It turned out well and
it’s one of my favorites too.
MV: How and why did you prefer three trombones and later
on add the bass trombone?
BH: Well it was just the norm at the time. That’s really it.
Four trumpets and three trombones.
MV: Was this before or after Kenton had a larger brass
section? Was he the first to have 10 brass?
BH: Yeah.
MV: Was he doing that around the same time everybody
else was using seven?
BH: I think he had 10 when I joined the band. That was ’52.
But jazz bands didn’t have bass trombones then.
MV: On the subject of writing, do you approach writing in
any specific way, or is it just a matter of sitting down waiting
to see what comes to you? Do you work on writing? I often
read of people with formulas and pitch manipulation but
from what I have read it seems you just write what you hear.
BH: I never had a system. A lot of times I just imagined
playing a line. Boy, I thought of all kinds of things while
you were asking the question and now I can’t think of any!
26 | the note | summer/fall 2020

I just sat there and sang to myself. Some people showed me
how to write a curved line on the staff paper as a guide and
then filling it up with notes or something. But that didn’t
work out much. A lot of my earlier writing was generated by
my time as a player. I imagined melodic lines with my fingers
on the horn.
Russ Garcia made me very aware of form and I’ve thought a lot
about that. Not a waltz form or dance form, but the form of the
music itself. How will it have a climax and an end and a curve?
I try to keep form in mind and every day I would review what
I wrote so far to keep myself in some kind of groove. Your
mind can change quite a bit from day to day depending on
what you think about, what you worry about, and how you
feel. I became conscious of that and tried to make one day
flow into the next day. Form is a big item for me.
MV: So if we look at two different records of yours, “In a
Jazz Orbit” versus something like “World Class Music” with
“St. Thomas” and those arrangements [recorded November
30-December 1, 1987, on JVC records], would you say that
evolution was a natural occurrence or did you really try to
grow and change with the world and the sound of jazz?
Because you’re writing has really evolved yet it still sounds
like you.
BH: I listened mostly to players that I liked. I liked to keep
an improvisatory quality to my music. I want it to feel like a
bunch of soloists. I would say the progression was natural.
Even though I was listening to small groups, the soloists were
my inspiration. As that music changed, so did I. Eventually
I started listening to other music. I discovered the Bartok
String Quartets and that turned me around. I imagine some
of that crept into my decisions. I want the lead line to feel
like whoever is playing it is just making it up. There’s a limit
to how far you can take this of course, but I just want to
make sure it doesn’t get too stiff.
PD: What did you like about Bartok?
BH: Oh, the music! [laughs] The quartets were just mind
blowing . . . his music for strings and percussion and celeste
as well. It was very much like jazz to me. It was people’s
music dressed up behind some knowledge and it was just
lovely. I first heard the string quartets on the road with
Kenton because I roomed with Bill Russo and he had a
portable record player. He had an album of Bartok String
Quartets and it was just unbelievable to hear it at an early
age musically. I didn’t get started in music until after I was
out of the Navy. [Phil Woods often studied and referenced
Bartok’s music, especially the six volumes of “Mikrokosmos”
for piano and the six string quartets.]
PD: At the end of WWII?
BH: Yeah, July 1942 to July 1946.
PD: Did you do any music in the Navy?

BH: No, I was in officer training school for
three quarters of it. Then when the war
was over I flunked out of officer training
school and became an ordinary seaman
and served on a cruiser for three months.
It was fun, I liked being on a ship and sailing
on the ocean. I was close to home as well.
Every few weeks I could visit home.
PD: Bartok died a month after WWII
ended. He was composing right into the
1940s. He was alive during your early
years in music. He included elements of
folk music in his writing.

The Charles
Christopher Parker

Centennial Year Continues:
Bird with the Herd, Kenton,
& THE Orchestra
On August 29, 2020 the world
commemorated Charlie “Bird”
Parker’s 100th birthday. On
that special day, I called renown
woodwind virtuoso Jerry Dodgion
to wish him a happy “Bird’s”
Centennial, then said, “Oh, by the
way, Jerry, happy 88th birthday to
you! Your great friend Phil Woods
would have told you that ‘you
don’t look a day over 87 and you’re
an 88-year-old in the body of an
87-year-old!’” Jerry has been a
longtime huge friend of the ACMJC
and has one of the richest journeys
in jazz history. It’s poetic justice
that this remarkable artist and
person shares Bird’s date of birth.

BH: It’s unbelievable how he could die
penniless after writing so much great music.
It just doesn’t seem like that could happen.
PD: And his funeral was attended by only
10 people! Speaking of the folk aspect of
Bartok, when you are composing, does it
always have to have the dance aspect? So
much of big band music started out as dance
music. Were you concerned about that or
more of jazz as an art form? You also grew
up in the swing era in the ‘30s and ‘40s.
BH: I’ve never thought about dance music.
That seems to come normally to me. The
bands like Basie that I have been inspired by
seem to pick medium tempos for pieces and
I liked it, so I would use it. I don’t remember
anyone asking me for a specific dance chart.
Stan had a bunch of dance charts, but after
he liked my writing, he put me in the category
above dance charts. Stan had different levels
to categorize arrangers. I graduated from
“rookie” directly into “jazz charts.”
PD: Bill you have been incredible for the
better part of two hours!
MV: This has been a great experience.
I think it is particularly interesting that
for someone as influential and prolific as
yourself, there is really no literal rhyme or
reason to how you do what you do, which
further illustrates how special your writing
is. Some of the best writing is the stuff that
“just happens.”
PD: It is really great to hear you speak
about all of these things.
BH: It’s always a pleasure to talk about
music, especially to people that know
what I’m talking about! n

I thought it might be of great interest to discuss live recordings of Bird
improvising on big band arrangements by additional great “principals”
of the ACMJC. These remarkable collaborations with three iconic road
bands feature Parker on arrangements by Al Cohn (AC), Bill Holman, and
Johnny Mandel.

July 22, 1951

Woody Herman and the Thundering Herd
– Municipal Arena, Kansas City, MO
K.C. native Charlie Parker (age 30) was home visiting his mother and
behaving well, five days after the birth of his daughter Pree. He was in great
shape and even attended a rehearsal, according to saxophonist Dick Hafer.
It was Hafer’s first performance with Herman... what a baptism by fire!
Bird and the Herd were together for four nights. On one of the evenings,
future Delaware Water Gap resident and Third Herd lead trombonist
extraordinaire Urbie Green (age 24) recorded nine selections on his newfangled portable reel-to-reel tape recorder. One of the tracks was AC’s early
1947 (age 21) composition “The Goof and I.” It was originally recorded in
several small-group settings until AC’s big band arrangement made its
way into Buddy Rich’s “book” (band repertoire) later that year. Woody
Herman would make the gold-standard recording of it on December 27
with his important “Four Brothers” sax section, which included Zoot Sims
and Stan Getz. AC would join this historic section about a month later.
summer/fall 2020 | the note | 27

AC’s piece would become a permanent
fixture in the Herd’s repertoire, as would
many of AC’s works for “The Chopper’s”
big band. The CD of the concert is called
“Bird with the Herd,” released in 1996 on
Drive Archive [DE2-42442].
Who was “The Goof”? AC gave his
frequent sax section-mate baritone
saxophonist Harvey Lavine that nickname
in 1946 because he was always forgetting
things and often late. Only Lavine’s family
knew that he was this way due to his
extended time as a bazooka-wielding
soldier in horrific WWII battles such as
the Battle of the Bulge, where he endured
launching and dodging shells for hours
and days at a time. As Paul Harvey used
to end his radio segments, “And now you
know... the rest of the story.”
In the early 1970s the Main-Man label
released the concert as “Bird Flies
with ‘The Herd’ - Charlie Parker & That
Thunderin’ Herd/The Inspired Trumpet
Artistry of Clifford Brown” [BFWHCB617].
The track that’s included as Al Cohn’s
arrangement of “Sonny Speaks” is
incorrect. It’s actually the abovediscussed “The Goof and I.”

February 22, 1953

THE Orchestra
– Joe Timer, Musical Director
- Club Kavakos, Washington, D.C.
In 1951, D.C.-area musicians wanted to
start a big band, so they approached radio
disc jockey Willis Conover. Within weeks,
“Willis Conover Presents THE Orchestra”
was formed. Drummer Joe Theimer (aka
Joe Timer) became the musical director.
They backed many famed guest artists
over several years. When Bird appeared
in 1953, two of the eight big band works
recorded and released on the “Washington
Concerts” CD that I’ll mention in a bit
are of special interest. The arrangement
of the 1930 composition “Fine and
Dandy” is credited to AC; however,
when listening to it, the arrangement
is identical to the one recorded by
Buddy Rich and His Orchestra on July
20, 1948 at the Palladium in Hollywood.
28 | the note | summer/fall 2020

Playing bass trumpet with Rich on that date was Johnny Mandel (age 22).
In an October 2008 interview on JazzWax.com, Johnny states, “I remember
with Buddy’s band, I had written Fine and Dandy with the intention of it
being a pit opener [for movie theaters].” When I visited Johnny Mandel
at his Malibu cliffside home on February 17, 2020 (age 94), I played the
1953 recording in Washington with Bird and he insisted that it was AC’s
arrangement. So the wonderful mystery continues!
The second track of special interest is Johnny Mandel’s arrangement of
the 1927 composition “Thou Swell.” During my visit, we listened to this.
I didn’t tell him what it was. Within a few seconds of hearing the band’s
statement of the melody, he said, “I wrote this [arrangement]!” Upon
completion of the melody, Bird makes a startling flourish-like entrance,
and within two seconds Johnny exclaimed, “That’s Bird!” He also spoke
of the rampant use of potent narcotics in use at the time and how he
and a few colleagues were the sole abstainers. Johnny had originally
done this arrangement for Buddy Rich. A recording exists from July 24,
1948, recorded at the same engagement previously mentioned at the
Palladium in Hollywood. An interesting connection is that trombonist Rob
Swope and trumpeter Charlie Walp are on both of the 1948 Buddy Rich in
Hollywood recordings and also the 1953 Bird in Washington concert, most
likely because of their D.C. roots.
The 1953 Washington, D.C. event was recorded and produced by pianist/
composer/arranger Bill Potts (1928-2005). For many years, Bill Potts
attended the COTA Jazz Festival in Delaware Water Gap, donating sheet
music to the COTA Cats student big band. He is best known for his seminal
arrangements for the LP “The Jazz Soul of Porgy & Bess,” recorded January
1959, featuring AC, Zoot Sims, and Phil Woods. Bill and his daughter
graciously donated a copy of the “Charlie Parker – The Washington
Concerts” CD [Blue Note 7243 5 22626 2 5].
Two years after leading THE Orchestra and playing drums behind Bird, Joe
Timer died (age 32), two months after Charlie Parker.

February 25, 1954

The Stan Kenton Orchestra
- Civic Auditorium, Portland, OR
Stan Kenton organized two tours called A Festival of Modern American Jazz,
featuring his orchestra and several well-known jazz performers, including
Stan Getz and Dizzy Gillespie. The first tour started in November 1953 and
lasted a month. Before the second half of the tour started, Stan Getz was
arrested on drug charges and Bird was invited to replace him. Good friend
of the ACMJC, Bill Holman (age 26), had recently ended his two-year stint
on tenor saxophone with Kenton, yet Stan had commissioned Bill to write
several arrangements for this tour and subsequent recording sessions. Of
seven selections from that evening, Dizzy Gillespie was featured on four
and Bird was featured on three. Two of Bird’s three features, “Cherokee”
and “My Funny Valentine,” were arranged by Bill. On July 20, 2020, I
spoke with Bill and asked him about having Bird featured on two of his
arrangements. He said, “To have Bird perform my arrangements was a
career highlight. I presented bare frameworks for him to blow on.” A little
over a year later, Bird would be dead. Amen.

The above performances are collected
on a single CD: “Charlie Parker: Stan
Kenton, Woody Herman, Joe Timer – Live
with the Big Bands,” released in 2007
on the Jazz Factory Label [JFCD 22883]
located in Andorra, the tiny, independent
principality situated between France and
Spain in the Pyrenees mountains. Wonder
if Bird ever performed there?
John Edward Hasse, Curator Emeritus
of American Music at the Smithsonian,
wrote an excellent six-minute read about
several Charlie Parker entities. Search
“medium.com Charlie Parker at 100:
Commemorating His Centennial.”
After we lost AC’s musical sidekick/
partner Zoot Sims in 1985 (age 59), Phil
Woods would often write “Zoot, pray
for us!” This begs a supremely deserved
mention of recordings of Zoot and/or AC
with Bird:

Farewell to the

Great
Mandel!
By Patrick Dorian

•
Zoot might have been with Bird
on a Machito and His Afro-Cubans
recording, circa 1949.
• April 3, 1950, Zoot & AC (both age
24) recorded with the Gene Roland
Orchestra, which included Parker
(age 29). This bigger-than-big big
band had 27 musicians, including
alto sax phenom Joe Maini (age 20)
and future important Pocono resident
and Mt. Airy Lodge bandleader Bob
Newman. There are seven Gene
Roland arrangements including some
alternate takes. This session has been
released twice: (1) “Gene Roland
Band: The Band That Never Was” on
Spotlite Records [E-SPJ141]; (2) “Bird’s
Eyes, Volume 15 – Charlie Parker” on
Philology [W845-2]. The Philology
label was founded in Italy in 1987 by
Paolo Piangiarelli and is named in
honor of Phil Woods.
• Zoot was in the Charlie Parker Tentet
at the Howard Theatre in Washington,
D.C. on October 18, 1952, a few days
before Zoot turned 27 and a mere
four months before Bird’s abovementioned Club Kavakos recording.
Zoot & Johnny, pray for us!

n

Johnny and Pat singing through his arrangement of
“It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year”
(Malibu, February 16, 2020).
Photo by Suzie Katayama

Johnny Mandel might have left this astral plane, but he didn’t leave
our deep consciousness on June 29, 2020, about the same time as his
colleague Carl Reiner.
Carl was 98 and Johnny was a mere 94. In the first part of the 1950s, they
worked together in New York as featured actor and composer respectively
on one of the first great television programs, “Your Show of Shows.” This
variety program had a direct connection to the Pocono Mountains via
director Max Liebman, who directed weekend productions at Tamiment
Resort. By the late 1950s, Johnny would end up in Los Angeles and Carl
would follow suit several years later. As Johnny’s Oscar nomination for
his iconic score and song in “The Sandpiper” (1965) was morphing into
a win, he was composing the score for “The Russians Are Coming, the
Russians Are Coming” (sound familiar since 2016?), which co-starred
Reiner. Johnny’s love theme from this movie, “The Shining Sea,” featured
lyrics by Peggy Lee. Listen to Irene Kral’s vocal on the soundtrack LP (not
heard in the film) and just try not to melt.
summer/fall 2020 | the note | 29

In January 2011, David Liebman
gave Mary and me front-row
seats at Jazz at Lincoln Center to
witness him receiving the nation’s
highest jazz award, the NEA Jazz
Master Fellowship. Johnny was
also receiving this prestigious
honor that night. After the event,
we went backstage to thank and
congratulate Dave. All of a sudden,
THE Johnny Mandel was heading
right at me with a purpose, so I
moved aside to get out-the-way!
He got right in my face and said, “I
read each issue of The NOTE cover
to cover at least once and I feel like
we’re neighbors! I really enjoy your
column.” How could he recognize
me from the tiny thumbnail photo
in each issue? What an eye . . . what a mind! As time went
on, I started getting messages from other people that Johnny
wanted me to call him to talk . . . about Al, Zoot, Phil, Basie,
Bob Dorough et al. I didn’t feel worthy, but we became
phone buds for years, me trying to remember each detail of
each conversation, especially the humor, oftentimes ribald
as all getout.
As I wrote in the previous issue of this journal, it was my honor
to advocate for Johnny for the Grammy Legend award, whether
he wanted it or not! Mary and I had an unforgettable visit with
him in May 2019 at the Malibu cliffside home and I returned
in February 2020 to celebrate the life of his dear Martha,

who left us at the end of 2019. We
spoke about a few of the usual
topics and ended up scat singing
in unison his entire famous
burning jazz waltz arrangement
for the Andy Williams recording
of “It’s the Most Wonderful Time
of the Year,” released five weeks
before JFK’s assassination. It
was another cherished trip. He
would be gone a little over four
months later.
This November, we’ll be thinking
of and listening to the music of
lifelong friends Johnny Mandel
on Monday the 23rd and Al
Cohn on Tuesday the 24th. It’ll
be their 95th.
For a trio of fine tributes, search:
NYTimes - Johnny Mandel, 94, “Writer of Memorable Movie
Scores, Is Dead” (the photo of Johnny on the Oscar stage
with a 27-year-old Natalie Wood is precious)
WashPost – “Johnny Mandel, Composer Who Gave ‘M.A.S.H.’
Its Theme Song, Dies At 94”
LATimes – “Johnny Mandel, Hollywood Film Composer Who
Wrote Theme to Mash, Dies”
Johnny’s love theme from this movie, “The Shining Sea,”
featured lyrics by Peggy Lee. Listen to Irene Kral’s vocal on the
soundtrack LP (not heard in the film) and just try not to melt. n

Contributors and Acknowledgements
For additional information about contributors to this
issue of The Note, you can visit their websites:
Su Terry: www.suterry.com
David Liebman: www.davidliebman.com
Rob Scheps: www.robschepsmusic.com
Gunnar Mossblad: www.gunnarmossblad.com
Lesley Bohm: www.lesleybohm.com
CTS Images: Special thanks to Cynthia at CTS Images for
the incredible photo of Zoot Sims and Coleman Hawkins for
the back cover of this issue.
Visit the website at ctsimages.com.
30 | the note | summer/fall 2020

Special thanks to: ESU Interim President Kenneth
Long, director of university relations Brenda Friday, Ph.D.,
provost Joanne Bruno, J.D., and dean of Kemp Library
Jingfeng Xia, Ph.D. for showing their continued support
for the Al Cohn Memorial Jazz Collection and providing
the opportunity to continue to present this publication;
Ideal Design Solutions for graphic design; the ESU Staff
for making this publication possible; Louise Sims and Jill
Goodwin for their ongoing support and generosity; Pat and
Mary Dorian for all of their invaluable assistance; all of the
people and families that have donated over the years to
make the ACMJC a success for 30 years!

L e gen ds Live On
But not without
your support!

Representing all forms of Jazz
from all eras, the Al Cohn
Memorial Jazz Collection was
founded and named in honor
of the award-winning Al Cohn —
legendary saxophonist, arranger,
composer and conductor.
Housed in Kemp Library on the
campus of East Stroudsburg
University of Pennsylvania,
the collection consists of
jazz recordings, oral histories,
sheet music, photographs,
books, videos, original art and
memorabilia. The collection
also includes outreach programs.
Your financial support
of the collection is
crucial in helping promote
music education and preserving
the iconic jazz history of the
Pocono region.

Please make your gift by mail using the enclosed envelope
or online at www.esufoundation.org/supportalcohn
Be sure to designate your gift to the ACMJC. For personal assistance, call (800) 775-8975.

200 Prospect Street
East Stroudsburg, PA 18301-2999

Coleman
Hawkins

Zoot Sims

Coleman Hawkins listens to Zoot Sims
warming up backstage at Newport
Jazz Festival in 1963.
©Burt Goldblatt/CTSIMAGES. Used with permission.