Remembering John Coltrane:
A Commemoration in Words and Music
(Reprinted from The
NOTE – Summer 2007 issue, an official publication of the Al Cohn Memorial Jazz Collection at
East Stroudsburg University of Pennsylvania)
The following is the
transcript of a presentation and panel discussion moderated by saxophonist
David Liebman on the life and music of John Coltrane. Held on
In my case, it was with an
amazing amount of good luck and synchronicity that I grew up in
And on that first night I saw
Count Basie – and it was a Christmas break – Count Basie and Gerry Mulligan, [with]
a little jazz group he had, a nine-piece group. In any case, now I was an
experienced Birdland visitor and within a few months I was taking my first
girlfriend to Birdland. And not knowing who was playing, just “Oh well, let’s
just go see Birdland” – [I] felt like a real big shot. We took the train. We
ate at Mama Leone’s. And then we came up to 52nd and Broadway and
there was a – what do you call it? – a placard on the street, and it said “Bill
Evans Trio,
Now, I was just starting to
read DownBeat, listen to jazz, and
get familiar with just the names, let alone the music. The last two or three
years up to that time, from when I was about 12, 13 years old, I was getting
into it. And I only knew there was a picture of Coltrane playing the soprano.
And I knew that he played the soprano and I said, “Oh, this is that guy I’ve
been reading about who plays soprano saxophone.” So that was [indiscernible]. Of course, I didn’t know
who Bill Evans was. In any case, we went in and Bill Evans is playing. This is
a Saturday night, not unlike a Saturday night anywhere, for the most part. A
little noisy and distracted, but they played. And I remember Bill Evans’ trio –
it could have been Scott LaFaro and Paul Motian, I wouldn’t know – but they
played and there was so much talking. I’ll never forget the piano player
[Evans]. He just had his head down like this [Lieb demonstrates] and he never moved his head and he just played
and [his playing] was very quiet. You could hardly hear him. It was like they
were in their living room, you know. So it didn’t have much effect on me.
And then this [next] group
came on and started playing. And I could
not believe what I heard. First thing was that Coltrane, playing tenor
saxophone, was playing in such a way that – to my ears and my limited knowledge
at that time – it was not even practicing. It would be what I was having
trouble with when I took the horn out [laughs]
at home. High notes and squeaking and all the things that you would think you’re
not supposed to be playing. … And I looked at the young lady [I was with] and I
said, “Well, this is really something.” The other saxophone player, who ended
up [being] Eric Dolphy, was a little bit more logical to me, a little more
familiar. Those of you who are familiar with the history know that in a certain
sense, Eric Dolphy, from the rhythmic standpoint, played in a way that was more
reminiscent of bebop, and therefore more familiar. So, at least to my ear, I
could say, “Well, OK, yeah, that guy can play. The other guy – what’s he doing
practicing like that?” You know? And then, to finish this story, they started
playing this one song and [my girlfriend] Julie says, “That’s from The Sound of Music.” I said, “Nah, no,
there’s no way. These guys aren’t gonna play Julie Andrews tunes. I mean ... that’s
not happening.” Sure enough, it was “My Favorite Things,” which of course
became Coltrane’s banner song, so to say.
In any case, whatever it was
that evening that I saw, it impressed me. It was from then until he died that I
saw him 20, 30 times. I mean, whenever he played
But whatever this was, it
compelled me to go see it. And for me, to get to the point of the story, it
basically is the reason I’m sitting in front of you. My life has been
determined by, in a certain way, that first night. I mean, the epiphany of
seeing him [and] the years that followed. And over the years, having thought
about it and now in recent years speaking about it so much, because of course
as we get older – Billy and myself and Cecil, people like us – we are asked
more and more to talk about the past and talk about our relationship to the
past. And I have tried to figure out what it was that made me go to see that. I
mean, I liked Elvis Presley. I wasn’t brought up with jazz, you know. My father
listened to Tchaikovsky. I listened to Martin Block’s “Make Believe Ballroom,”
and I loved rock ‘n’ roll. I loved the saxophone but I loved the saxophone
through rock ‘n’ roll, not through jazz. I had never really heard it in jazz
until this period. The first thing [I asked], just from the standpoint of
curiosity, was “How can that be the same instrument that I have at home?” I
remember saying to myself, on many occasions, “That cannot be the same
instrument, called the tenor saxophone, that is lying in my case in
That’s basically what
happened to me. And the rest is history and is the way I did it. I certainly
didn’t understand the music. I am a little better at understanding the music 50
years later, or 40 years later, because of course I’m a better musician and
I’ve studied it. And I realize some of the musical things that Coltrane did.
But, what they were doing as a group and what Coltrane did as an artist in the
time that he was on the planet was just beyond the call of duty. And those of
us who were fortunate enough to see him could never forget it. It was like a
flash that you would never forget. And [as] they say about spiritual work,
whenever you do anything like meditation or any Eastern stuff: Once you see the
light, it never goes out. You’re always drawn to it. And I think that anybody
who saw Coltrane certainly, and certainly at that age for myself being in the
most formative, most impressionable years, and playing music to some extent
already, that made even more of an effect [on me]. So, that’s my relationship
to Coltrane. And I’ve got to tell you, I mean in my mind, when I play, it’s
just trying to get to that. That’s basically it. I mean, it’s very simple. There’s
that, and then there’s everything else. [laughs]
And everything else musically, and also everything else in life because really
nothing I’ve ever felt or seen has been anything of that kind of magnitude. So
with that, I would love to ask my very close brother – who I never have had a
chance to say is one of the most important people in my life, musically and as
a person, and I’m so glad that we are still playing together – 20, 30 years
that we’ve been performing together – but I’d love for Billy to share his
experiences. Please welcome Mr. Billy Hart. [applause]
[Indiscernible off-mike banter between Dave Liebman and Billy Hart as
Hart comes down on stage and takes a seat at the table]
Billy Hart [BH]: All right, all right. [laughs]
Let’s see. I’m older than you are.
DL: That’s
for sure.
BH: [laughs] Well, I wouldn’t go that far.
Anyway, but you know it’s funny. One of my first records was an Elvis Presley
record.
DL: [indiscernible]
BH: Ah hah.
But I also liked Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers.
DL: “Why Do
Fools Fall In Love?”
BH: That’s
right. That was my favorite tune. Anyway, like you, that’s what I heard first.
And I ended up being enchanted by this music, you know – Charlie Parker, Lester
Young and so forth. I finally heard Coltrane on a record. In those days, they
had the Columbia Record Club, and one of my friends, his father was in the club.
And he had this Miles Davis record, Round
Midnight. I think my favorite saxophone player at that time was Johnny
Griffin, and then I heard this record. “All of You,” I think it was. And I mean
I heard all of the tunes but his [Coltrane’s] solo on “All of You” just changed
my life. I became a Coltrane fan immediately. Immediately. You know, it was everything that I believed in. Everything
I believed in was in that song. So I just followed him around and then, of
course, a lot like when [indiscernible] you lived in
DL: [laughs]
BH: – and
just hear this. Now of course, I was too young to get in, you know what I’m
saying? But I could stand out there and hear John and his “sheets of sound”
period, and see those guys. And it just went from then to now, from then to
now. I was able to follow him. It was like a study. I was able to follow him
from Round Midnight to actually
hearing him in person with the sextet, which was obviously after he had
rejoined Miles. And then by the time he got to his final period, when he was
having some difficulty having a commercial appeal, I was already prepared for
that. So I loved him even more then, you know. And then I was lucky enough to
have some conversations with him.
DL: Tell us.
What did you talk about?
BH: Well,
let’s see. Well, of course, John was a very special kind of man in that he was
interested in many things, you know. Spiritual things. But he liked coming
around and hearing younger guys play. So I used to play in the afternoons. Joe
Chambers played piano, Walter Booker played the bass, and I would play the
drums. And [on] more than one occasion, John would come to these matinees if he
was in town. I just remember seeing him walking in the door and I’d say, “Oh my
god, John, please, please don’t come in here.” But, anyway, he would come in
and encourage us. I heard from Wayne Shorter that he [Coltrane] met
And then I remember having a
conversation in
DL: I want
to ask you something else. I want to ask you one thing because you probably
witnessed this as I did. Coltrane was famous for his practicing. Obsessive
practicing, it could be called, in the clubs and so forth. Do you remember ever
seeing him when you’d walk in at the breaks and –
BH: Many
times, many times.
DL: – he’d
be in the back.
BH: The
first time I remember seeing it was when he was still in Miles Davis’ band. And
in those days, you didn’t have jazz festivals but you had these jazz shows that
would come through town. I’m from
DL: Yeah.
Jimmy Heath story. This is from a couple months ago when we had this panel. He
said that they used to do a matinee at the Showboat. In those days, you had [a]
Sunday matinee often in the clubs – Vanguard had it, Jazz Workshop had it.
You’d play
Let me give you an example.
Miles Davis: innovator, conceptualizer, great band leader. Miles Davis was not a practicer, that’s for sure. He did
not sit and woodshed the instrument. I’m sure at a certain period he did, when
he was younger. But [during] my time with him … he didn’t take out the horn.
And he was kind of proud of it, in a way, you know, like, [imitates Miles’ speaking voice] “Well, I don’t have to do that.”
You know? [audience laughs] But, of
course, after playing 40 years of eight nights a week, or whatever they did, that’s
understandable. And yet, Miles made contributions. And there are other
musicians like that. But Coltrane’s kinds of contributions – at least a good
part of them – were really predicated on this incredible amount of just digital
fingers sitting down and shedding that instrument. Just getting it all
together. So, it was like his art demanded that he do it. And it fit his
personality. That’s an interesting thing that somebody brought up recently.
Number one, of course, this religious thing is very interesting, you know,
because the father was a preacher or deacon or –
BH: Somebody
in the family.
DL: – in the
family who died young. When Coltrane was 12 years old, the father died. So this
religious aspect of Coltrane’s later period [indiscernible] plainly put out
there with A Love Supreme and, of
course, all this stuff at the end that we’ll talk about a little later, seems
maybe it could tie in with that. And the other thing is that, it seems that
when the father died, Coltrane kind of got – as can happen, of course – isolated.
You know, you go into your shell as a reaction to the death of a parent. And he
was immediately – like, at that point, 13, 14 years old – he was already
practicing like a maniac. You know, this was maybe a way of finding solace for
that event that happens [to] a young boy, you know. For anybody. In any
respect, that was one of the most notable things about his modis operandi, his
practicing thing. One of the main points of Coltrane’s development is that in
his 12 years on the scene – and we have really a 12-year period – [in]1955 he
begins with Miles, let’s say ’56, and he dies in ’67, and in ’67 he only did a
few things, so it’s almost 10 or 11 years, if you really look at it, of
recording and of working – in that period, he covered the complete history of
jazz. And we refer to it – and Billy just did, when Billy said he saw him with
Miles – we’re talking about what we call early Coltrane. You know, we say
early, middle and late, of course. And early Coltrane is his period with Miles
Davis, primarily. And among that is his time with Theloneous Monk, which has
lately [received] a lot of publicity because of the release of some of these
recordings that he did with Monk. He was with Monk for like a four-, five-month
period, and that of course was part of his development as a musician. Monk and
Miles. And at that same time in the fifties – ’56, ‘57, ‘58, ‘59 – he was
recording as a band leader. [He] made many of the records on ... Prestige ... of
what we call the standard material – playing the standards of the day, which is
pretty much what the musicians were expected to do at that time – and some
originals, but a lot of standards.
Of course, 1959 is a breaking
point with Coltrane. In jazz [it’s] a very important year, actually. I don’t
know how many people realize but … musicians certainly know what “Giant Steps”
is, [both] as a tune and as a progression, [a] harmonic progression that’s
overwhelmingly difficult. Certainly at that time it was. And unusual. It was a
chord progression that had not been seen, at least in jazz, at that time, and
certainly not at the speed at which Coltrane recorded it on his very first
recording called Giant Steps. And [Giant Steps] was recorded within a month
or two of the [Miles Davis] Kind of Blue
record, of which Coltrane is a major part. In fact, Kind of Blue maybe is the
great classic record of all modern jazz. So, we have Coltrane in 1959 reaching
the absolute height of harmonic intensity, speed, dexterity and all the kinds
of things that you would have to do to play “Giant Steps.” And then, on the
other hand, you have the popularization of the style that was going to become
Coltrane’s mode for the next four or five years with the great quartet. [It’s]
what we call modal playing, which is really non-harmonic, non-melodic
modulating chords, and staying pretty much on the one scale. Without getting
too technical, it’s almost a complete opposite, in a certain way. And within a
month, he was recording both and it was the beginning of the middle period
then. Coltrane left Miles in ’60 and became a band leader. In those days, when
you were with Miles Davis, pretty much, after Miles Davis it was incumbent,
expected, and you had to, become a band leader. If you hadn’t been [one]
before, you had to [become one] after that, because there was no other sideman
gig. When you played with Miles, [it] was the top of the food chain, as far as
being hired. After that, you were expected to have a presentation of music and,
you know, usually you had the opportunity. I know, even in the ‘70s, I had the
same opportunity. It was “What are you
going to do now that you’ve reached that?”
And Coltrane was certainly
ready, and within a few months a couple changes of personnel [occurred]. He got
Elvin Jones, and McCoy Tyner, who is 22 years old and had known
Then in ’66, what we call
late Coltrane [began], which [was] really only about a year or two of
development, but a really intense period as far as recording goes, and
certainly as [far] as the music goes. [It] became very free, abstract,
expressionistic, whatever word you want to [use to] describe [it]. Some people
would say chaotic and noisy. Usually there were more than several horn players
playing at the same time. The whole format of what Coltrane did in the late
period was completely different than [what] he had done before. There was not “[start]
the song, play the chords, play a chorus, go back to the song, next song.” It
was just one song – usually for an hour and a half. And everybody [was] just
playing, almost all the time, together, in constant polyphony. And this is what
Billy is referring to as “not being popular.” I mean, you’ve got to really
think about this. Jazz was still a very small aspect of [the] entertainment
business in those days. But still, within jazz, there were minor hits. A guy
could have a tune that’d find itself on a jukebox. In those days, you know, you
had a jukebox. You put a quarter in and you got three tunes. And Miles
certainly had some things. “Round
But by late ’64, he made a
record called [A] Love Supreme, [which]
is a seminal recording in the history of jazz for a variety of reasons. It sums
up the quartet, musically. Technically, there are issues but take my word for
it – it sums it up musically. And also on there is a great poem he wrote to “A
Love Supreme” – his acknowledgement of the presence and the power of the love
of God. Non-denominational, by the way. And from then on, every title of every
tune he did, at least I think so, is a title that has something to do with
spiritual powers, manifestation, cosmos,
expression, transition, to be, pursuance. You know, “Dear Lord” – it goes on
and on. So this definitely marked the last part of Coltrane’s life. And there
was an open acknowledgement of the spiritual aspect of the music. Of course, he
was interested in Indian music and all that, but it wasn’t “I belong to this
group or this thing.” It was just, you know, A Love Supreme. It was very non-denominational. I thought that was
very powerful. And he lost a lot of popularity [as a result].
There’s one concert in
particular, I’ll never forget this. [It] was called “Titans of the Tenor
Saxophone” at
BH:
Physically.
DL: That may
have certainly been part of it because his health was not the greatest. Throughout
his life [it] was not the greatest. ... At any case, the thing that really
marks Coltrane’s star is the covering of these three periods. His early, middle
and late periods. If you would take one aspect of that, musically, you could
spend the rest of your life studying it. We always used to say, Coltrane’s left
toe – I mean, if you took only that, you’d have a lifetime worth of study, let
alone the various things that he did. And of course, in this case ... he had
this incredible group that was just so simpatico and so with him and so on the
same plane musically, and so able to support what he did. You know, you often
think in music, if so-and-so hadn’t been with so-and-so, what would it have
been like? And, of course, you can always think about that, and especially in
jazz, which is group music. If Charlie Parker hadn’t had Dizzy – you know,
whatever. You can go on and on like that. You gotta say [that] without McCoy
and Jimmy and Elvin – I mean certainly Coltrane was Coltrane before that – but
that [group] was [playing on] another level because of [their] empathy and the
way they saw the music and the way they understood it. And they didn’t rehearse.
We know that because they tell us. McCoy said they’d come in and he’d start
playing a melody or something that he’d come up with, and they’d starting
fooling around, never say much about it, and after two or three nights the song
would take shape. And that would be the repertoire that they had. In our music,
recorded since 1917, coming up to a hundred years, the thing about this group
is that it stands really apart for the intensity and the amount of musical area
that they covered as a quartet. And Coltrane – on top [for] a ten-year period,
like a meteor that came and went. It’s just incredible.
DL: Now, I’m
gonna play you one thing from the beginning [Coltrane period] and one thing
from the end, just to make this mark. And then, if you have some questions – [To Hart] Anything you want to say on
this? [indiscernible] OK, now look,
this is nice. The first thing I’m going to play is from 1951. Now Coltrane
began on alto saxophone. It’s well known. And he loved Charlie Parker, which of
course, everybody did. And from what we can gather it seemed – very much like I
felt in some ways – like [Coltrane felt], “What more could you play?” So, he
went to tenor. And tenor at that time was dominated by basically three people: Coleman
Hawkins, who is considered the father of the tenor saxophone, coming from the
‘20s; Lester Young, who made his innovations slightly later; and at that time,
for bebop and for the Charlie Parker style, the main voice on tenor was Dexter
Gordon. Now what’s interesting is that when you hear Coltrane, you can hear the
very strong influences of Lester Young, and certainly Dexter Gordon. And some
people say Stan Getz. Well, it’s Stan Getz through Lester Young, because Lester
Young is the beginning of that way of playing. So Coltrane, beginning on alto,
goes to tenor, and is playing the gigs of the day, what musicians did in those
days – clubs, bars, [a] lot of blues, dance music, and of course, in big bands.
Now, this is a group that Dizzy Gillespie [hired]. I guess [Dizzy] knew about
Coltrane or knew that this was a young guy to be reckoned with. And we’re going
to listen to something from 1951. And it’s [turns
away from microphone to talk to Billy Hart] Tad Dameron on “Good Bait”?
BH: Yeah, I think …
DL: Tad.
“Good Bait.” Tad Dameron. [Dave plays a recording of Coltrane’s solo on Tad
Dameron’s “Good Bait” for the audience]
Yeah, very interesting. Now I
want to move to [Coltrane’s] time with Johnny Hodges, who of course is the alto player supreme with Duke
Ellington. [Hodges] went on his own for a short period, left Duke for a minute,
started his own little band, and hired Coltrane. Of course, Johnny Hodges is a
great hero to all alto players. Phil Woods will tell you that. I mean, he’s the
god of alto sound. And here [Coltrane] is now playing in this band. This [tune]
became rather famous. [It] kind of became a little popular, this tune. It’s a
blues – “Castle Rock” – you really hear a very big blues influence, and almost
an R & B influence, which is really kind of where your rock ‘n’ roll starts
from. [Lieb plays a recording of “Castle
Rock,” featuring Coltrane in the Johnny Hodges band]
Now, jazz – it’s changed a
bit. But in those days, and I’d say up until the recent time, you had to play
the blues and you had to play a ballad. You also had to play “Cherokee” fast as
hell. There were certain requirements – not like anybody wrote them down,
although now it’s part of a course, of course. But, in those days, there were
certain requirements. And blues [was] certainly one of them, and you hear that
influence. With Trane, there’s one thing that you always hear, no matter how
far away the music goes from tonality [or] how complex the rhythm becomes.
There’s always this sense of the blues scale that comes into the music. [
I’m going to finish my
thought and then introduce you. [To
[Speaking again to the audience] So blues was de rigueur. You had to
be able to play blues. And you had to play a ballad. And I still say the same
thing to all the students, you know. In the end, it’s the ballad that will be
the thing that gets across to the people. In
the end. Because let’s face it, when it’s slow and clear, you’ve got a
chance to catch on. Nobody’s different in this respect. And also, for the
musician, it’s a chance to slow things down. It’s a chance to think about sound
and phrasing that you don’t ordinarily think about, at least [not] in the front
or at the high part of the performance when you are playing faster. So, I just
want to play this because it’s really very revealing about where already
Billy [was] saying [to me] he
didn’t know there was so much already in place by 1954. I mean, it’s
incredible. And a couple of interesting things – every time I hear this [I
hear] something different. The real arpeggiated style is already very clear.
The up and down on the chords. Also, the way he goes to the five chord, he’s
right [indiscernible] altering
immediately. And the other thing is that sliding portamento. We call it
portamento. It means to slide, you know, sizzle, or whatever. And Dexter, of
course, had that, but that’s really [a] Johnny Hodges’ thing – how you go into
the note, but you come from the notes below. John did that quite a bit in the
‘60s whenever he’d play a ballad, whenever you hear him play in the high
register. But here you already hear the beginnings of him sliding in,
especially in the higher register. And the other thing about Trane that was a
little different [from] the other guys, and I think it’s maybe [a] Johnny Hodges
thing also, it’s [that] the call is melismatic. It’s florid. It’s like the note
is here – if you’re looking for a note, there’s a G, right? But when you see a
G, you see [hums a few notes]. You
see everything around the G before you get to the G. It’s all the dressing.
If you look at Bach’s music, you
see that there’s all these symbols for it with all the turns. It was a very
important part of Bach’s music, these little turns and grupettos and appogiaturas
and so forth. And Trane really uses that a lot, especially when he plays a
melody. He just goes to a note, but before he gets to that note, he’s gonna do
a little dance on it. Up a half step, down a half step. He’s going to fool
around with it ... so that you get a note, but you’re getting a whole story on
that note, which also enabled him to be very literal with the melodies. Because
when you think about Trane in respect to, for example, someone like Sonny …
Sonny was very quick to change the melody and change the notes. Certainly the
rhythm. Miles was very fast to change the notes. I mean he didn’t care much
about [the notes], you know. Melody wasn’t holy to him. But Trane really played
[the melodies], and especially during this period from when he was doing
standards right up to ’60. It’s clear that he’s a pretty literal player, but
with this florid, melismatic approach that makes it sound like it’s the song,
but [he’s] an interpreter. It’s almost classical in a way. It’s very
interesting, and you can really hear it already.
I always enjoyed music. I
played clarinet in junior high and in high school. But when the jazz music came
in, I wanted to play saxophone, of course. I just had a desire to be a part of
that music. It wasn’t anything I felt I had to do or needed to do. Or “I need
to play like my father. I need to only focus on this.” I just had a general
sort of desire for this thing that was very, very new to me suddenly. This
music was like a buried treasure all of sudden. It was like, “Oh there’s this
and there’s this and there’s this.” And hearing some of this music for the
first time, [that’s] when you start to explore and go deeper and deeper. There were
always the early Impulse records that were nearby in the house. So if we wanted
to put them on as kids, we could get to those. But music like this and the
music he made with Miles, that was stuff I discovered after I had to have this
calling. And to hear “Milestones” for the first time, or any of that music,
it’s kind of shocking. It’s mind blowing. I think that I’ve always just had a
kind, loving regard for his music, you know. I never knew him as a man. He passed
away when I was two. So the music was sort of there, kind of informing me about
who he was as a man. And so for a long time, that was kind of it for me. This
is
DL: You were
not –
RC: [To] separate
the father from John Coltrane.
DL: And the
other thing is this: You are several generations – if you measure ten years as
a generation, which is more than one, if not two – below Jabali [Billy Hart]
and myself. And I’m interested in [hearing] from you – as a member of a
different generation musically – your interests, of course, your influences.
How does it go for you? See, we’ve been talking about how it was for us because
we had a personal –. I mean, I saw him. [Billy Hart] knew him. Like from that
standpoint. From a musical standpoint, I’m really curious where your generation,
or you, sees John. Is it like the way I saw Bird? Like some mythical thing? I
mean, I just couldn’t believe it [Bird’s music] even existed. I’m talking
musically now, you know.
RC: Yeah,
yeah. It’s probably very similar to that, you know. If we start thinking of
Bach and Mozart, we don’t even have to go that far sometimes. There are people
who we weren’t around in [their] time to have that other type of connection or
relationship to their work. We have the great benefit of the fact that these
guys were so well documented and recorded that we are close to them for those
reasons. You know, if you’re in a situation with a cat and you’re hearing him
and working with him, maybe you’re influenced in some way as a member of his
band or something. You know when you talked to Elvin or McCoy about John and
that period, their take was very different than my generation’s, or [different
from] people who were around at that time but perhaps [were] not that close to
what was happening. I think perspective has a lot to do with how we perceive
the music and how we deal with it. Our primary relationship with John today is from
these recordings.
With me, there are sort of
some gray areas, you know. My mother always informed me about who he was and
what he was like as a man, on the stage, off the stage. And this particular
tune, she remembers when he was doing this or when they were in the studio. So,
that will kind of add to the color of it, to the scope of it. It’s big enough.
But when you know that this was a man who – [laughs] … he bought a Jaguar in the mid-sixties. Like, he couldn’t
drive a stick [laughs], a manual
transmission. And my mother could. She showed him how to drive this car.
Somehow he got it from a [car] lot to the house in Huntington [NY]. You know
what I mean? You know? Just knowing that he was a man, a regular guy – I won’t
say regular guy. He was an extraordinary guy, of course. But I mean the fact
that he didn’t come from another planet. He wasn’t this angel that descended to
earth and picked up a horn. He was a human being. And he created all of that
wonderful music as a human being, as a man on this earth. It’s almost like a
disservice for some, for me, for people, to put him in this sort of higher-than-human
kind of thing. He was flesh and blood just like us. And he did all these great
things. And we have the potential to do that as well, you know. I don’t know. I
think it’s a very deep subject. It’s really –
DL: I’ve got
to say one thing, man – I’m going to say this in front of [the audience]
because you know [we have] a lot friends here. I don’t want to embarrass you,
but man, [laughs] ... to be the heir
to, et cetera et cetera, regardless that you were so young when he passed. I
mean, that, and your mom, and her recent passing, and everything like that. The
way you handle it is beyond the call of duty. It’s really remarkable. And
musically, which of course you know I just totally respect. And how you handle
it publicly, because it’s not an easy position to be in. As you say, he’s being
mythologized, as we speak. It’s only going to grow. It will only grow more. And
that is always the thing – the people who knew him, knew him as a person and a
human being. And, as they pass on, there’s even less to inform people that this
guy didn’t know how to take a Jaguar from the parking lot. [audience laughs] You dig? [more laughter] And I just compliment
you, man. I think it’s unbelievable to be able to deal with that. I remember
our talk 30 years ago about that. But, you know, you’ve handled it great and
you know I respect that. And, folks, we have a couple of minutes, and then [I’d]
just like to play one thing that’s really a wonderful performance of “Favorite
Things.” I’m going to tell you a story about that before we do it. Is there
anything you’d like to ask any of us? Yeah, my man.
[An audience member asks
RC: Well,
yeah, of course, we’re partners with the record company, really. I mean it’s
our music and we own it, but the record company pays for it. They will always
own the rights to it. So, when there are things that the family wants to do
that the record company also wants to do, that’s usually when it happens. There’s
music coming out of the woodwork. There’s always something. But the things that
we consider for release, you know, are –. My mother, when she was here,
realized that yes, that there were things that [he] wanted people to hear and
things that he didn’t want people to hear. Just like any artist has that choice
when he’s, you know, sitting down writing his novel. If he doesn’t like that
word, he erases it. Noone ever knows, sees it or hears it or whatever. A
musician should have that right as well. If he’s doing several takes in a
studio and says, “That’s the one,” that usually means that’s the one. [laughs]
But when we get to this place in history and we start to look back at these
great, great creators, we start to want it. Yeah, we need all that stuff, the
extra stuff, you know what I mean? There are some [recordings] where you feel
like, okay, maybe I can understand why he picked this take. And there are some times
you feel like, well, this is John Coltrane. He could never play a bad take. And
there is never a wrong note, and there’s never a moment when it’s not going to give
you something, some information about his process. To me, that’s the really
exciting part of it too – to hear the process of it. These guys were working.
They were not just going in there [with] this magic just happening and then
leaving the studio. They worked, you know. They put it together. And John was
very specific about what he wanted in the studios, you know, what he wanted
from those recordings. So a long story short, yeah, I think there’s a lot of
great music out there. Hopefully, some things will start to appear pretty soon,
but we’ll see.
DL: Anybody
else? Okay, I’m going to tell you a story, and then we’ll watch something, and
then we’ll see you at
DL: So, [more applause] I counted up, I counted
up 300 times six and I … came to 1800, or something like that. So I said, “I
don’t know, 1800?” I don’t know, something like that, to Elvin – told him how
many times they played “My Favorite Things.” We’re joking around. He said,
“Well, I don’t know how many goddam times.” [That’s] the way he talked, you
know. “I don’t know how many goddam times we played it,” he said, “but I’ll
tell you one thing. We played it every night like there’d be no tomorrow.” And,
of course, he put that face up in your face. And he’s making the point, which
was – and I always say this to my students, and I’ve got to remember it some
days myself – if you knew you wouldn’t be here tomorrow, just think about how
you’d play tonight. I mean, in our thing, you know. [But] that could be true of
anybody [who is] doing something they love. If you [thought] that tomorrow
would be the cutoff time, if you could ever know that, and you have your last
tune, last chorus, you’d be sure to be hitting that as hard as you could, I
think. So, Elvin was saying that that’s the way he played that tune. And they
did play it every night. [An] interesting thing about “My Favorite Things,”
from the musical standpoint before we look at this version, is that he was able
to take this “ditty” ... and transform it, which is the first level. But he
didn’t just transform it once. Those of us who know Trane’s style in an
intimate way know that it’s his style even within, as I say, the middle period.
You know when you say the middle period, you could almost go year-by-year there,
also. As his style changed, with the same ... three other people, the way they
played “My Favorite Things” changed. It was still “My Favorite Things” – Richard
Rogers and [The] Sound of Music – and still that melody, that little lilting melody.
But the way they treated the tune and the mode and everything like that,
changed as the group changed. And in fact, for those that are interested,
there’s the original version from Atlantic which is ’60, and then there’s a
great version with, at that time, Roy Haynes, who was taking Elvin’s place for
a couple of months, from Newport ‘63,
which is quite different. And then, [there] couldn’t be [a] more different
version [than] from a record called Live
at the Village Vanguard Again,
which is 1966, which is part of what we call the late period. Of course, now
there are many, many live recordings around and available. You can almost trace
it day-by-day. But if you just had those three, in a way, that kind of
capsulizes the development of that particular classic quartet that I was discussing.
So, just to finish up today, we’ll – actually, Cecil, while you’re here, though
– you had your relationship with John Coltrane. Anything you can impart that
was personal to you – you played with him, or met him, or –
Cecil McBee [CM]: Well, quite ironically, this is a big surprise to be sitting here. I
sat in the car about 30 minutes waiting for you guys to show up, so [laughs and audience laughs] I was right
outside. So, [laughs] I’m in good
shape here. But, [laughs] this is
like, “Whoaa, what am I doing here?” [audience
laughs] It was, I guess, when was that – Trane died in ’68, right?
DL: Sixty
seven.
CM: Sixty
seven. Ok, it was around two weeks before Trane passed away. I was living
uptown,
DL: I never
thought about that.
CM: Yeah,
everything is lowered. It’s like dominoes – it’s going to the left. [laughs] And when they’re raised, you get
... a quicker need to get to that bar line.
DL: Get out.
CM: [laughs] Get the hell out of there. But
when you lower the notes, they’re so mellow and relaxed, you just want to get
in there. And it’s like you really combine various essences of choices, and so
forth, not only creativity but appreciation. So Trane provided all that for me.
When I began to grow up, to understand these things, I just delved into
whatever he was about. And I think improvisationally on my bass now. Maybe in
about a hundred years I might be able to manage what he was doing. [laughs] But I’m thinking along those
lines. Anyway, thank you for letting me speak a little bit. Thank you.
[audience applauds]
DL: Thank
you. So, we’re going to show you this “Favorite Things” which comes from around,
I believe it’s 1964. You’re going to be picking it up in the middle of McCoy’s
solo, going through Elvin. [aside to the
other musician panelists] We can gravitate to the back and get our stuff
together. [speaking to the audience] Will
you please thank these gentlemen: the great Billy Hart [audience applauds], Ravi Coltrane, Cecil McBee [applause continues]. We’ll see you a
little bit later.
Patrick Dorian:
And Dave Liebman [more applause].
We’d like to thank you for attending our lecture today. We’ll see you for the
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