Irv Williams at nearly 90: Music and Irvisms

When: Friday, Aug. 14, 2009 • Where: Artists’ Quarter • Who: Irv Williams, tenor saxophone; Peter Schimke, piano; Jeff Bailey, bass; Kenny Horst, drums

Irv Williams doesn’t turn 90 until August 17 but can be forgiven for celebrating a few days early. (The party continues on Monday night at the Dakota, where the Steeles will open.) A mainstay of the Twin Cities jazz scene since he arrived here at the start of WWII, when he was assigned to the Naval Air Station in Minneapolis as part of the US Navy Band, Williams, known as “Mr. Smooth,” is still playing beautifully, still charming his audiences, still tossing out bon mots.

Out-of-towners and others who might not know him can read a little background here.

Williams is playing a shiny new Selmer tenor sax these days, and in his words, “It’s killing me. My old one cost $900. I had to get insurance for this one. I’m a nervous wreck.” The horn he played for decades now resides in the Minnesota History Center as part of the Minnesota’s Greatest Generation exhibit. Williams says of the Selmer, “It’s a real fine instrument but it doesn’t have that mellow sound I like to have.” Yes, it does. He makes any horn sound like his own, full of warmth and depth, resonance and emotion, and living human breath, the first maker of music.

Williams plays standards (he doesn’t compose that much, although his next CD, he says, will be mostly original compositions), and tonight is almost all legacy tunes: “I Hear a Rhapsody,” “Days of Wine and Roses,” “Here’s to Life” (which he was inspired to play by Shirley Horn), "Betsi's Song" (written for his daughter), “Green Dolphin Street,” “How Deep Is the Ocean,” “Besame Mucho,” “Alone Together,” “Bye Bye Blackbird,” “Old Folks,” “In a Mellow Tone,” “Soul Eyes.”

The near capacity crowd is there to listen and honor the birthday man (and eat cake, which comes later). The band is perfection. Williams shares a special simpatico with the great pianist Peter Schimke, his partner at his regular gigs and on the CD they made together in 2006, the exquisite Williams/Schimke Duo. Williams has known bassist Jeff Bailey since Bailey was a child, and drummer/AQ owner Kenny Horst has played with Williams more times than anyone can count.

After the first set, Horst gets up from behind his drums, walks over to Williams, and kisses him on the cheek. “I guess he likes me...a lot,” Williams says.

More Irvisms from throughout this enjoyable night:

On his birthday: “What’s all the noise about? It’s just 90. It’s just a number.”

On his new Selmer saxophone: “I wish I could play it.”

On playing the saxophone: “This is my 75th year playing this horn and I’m sick and tired of it. Seriously, I think it has something to do with my so-called longevity.”

On introducing the tune “How Deep Is the Ocean”: “Do you know how deep it is? I don’t. I don’t care.”

And, toward the end of the evening: “I’m old. I’m really old. I can play the race card and the old-age card. I can’t lose.” At that, he throws back his head and laughs.

Photos by John Whiting. T to b: Jeff Bailey and Irv Williams; Peter Schimke

Bill Carrothers: One of a kind

When: Friday and Saturday, Dec. 26–27, 2008 • Where: Artists’ Quarter • Who: Bill Carrothers, piano; Gordy Johnson, bass; Kenny Horst, drums

Maybe it’s because he makes his home in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, where he rides snowmobiles and goes blueberry picking with a shotgun in case he and a bear meet at the same bush, that Bill Carrothers’ playing is full of space, even when his notes are stacked in chords and linked in long glissandos. Maybe it’s because he lives outside an old copper mining town called Mass City (population around 600, one general store, one blinker light) and plays mostly in Europe that it doesn’t feel tied to a particular place or time.

Hearing him over a weekend at the end of December at the AQ, I’m reminded again of how unique Bill Carrothers is. He’s avant-garde and traditional, serious and playful, free-flying and grounded in history (maybe because his full name is William Gaylord Carrothers III—thanks for that fact, jazz.com). You never know where he’ll go next, whether within a live set or on his recordings.

This weekend he has three new CDs available for sale, which he mentions only in passing but Davis will gladly tell you about at the door. The Voices That Are Gone: The Music of Stephen Foster is an art-songs collaboration with cellist Matt Turner and Carrothers’ wife, Peg, a vocalist. Play Day is a children’s CD that includes a loving ballad arrangement of the old Oscar Mayer song (“Wiener Mood”). Home Row is straight-ahead piano trio goodness; recorded in 1992, it features Gary Peacock on bass and Bill Stewart on drums. Writing for the New York Times, Nate Chinen suggests we treat Home Row like a modern recording and forget that it sat on a shelf somewhere for 15 years.

On both nights we hear standards transformed into originals by Carrothers’ passion, improvisational skills, vast musical knowledge, far-ranging intelligence, and sly wit. “Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams,” “Billie’s Bounce” (which ends with a quote from “In Walked Bud,” played fast and loose), “Blue Evening,” Billy Strayhorn’s “Blood Count,” “Moonlight Serenade,” and a delightful “All of Me”—dusted off, reinterpreted, and kicked in the pants.

Then “Nature Boy.” Carrothers thinks about this one before he begins, fingers poised, head bowed. He becomes very quiet. It starts as a solo piano piece, a beautiful rumination. Kenny Horst comes in with mallets and a soft, persistent beat; Gordy picks up the melody on his bass. It’s breathtaking—a song everyone has heard countless times yet it feels like the first time, yet it’s suffused with the past and tradition and all who have gone before. Played with reverence and grandness, it ends with a wordless poem. No disrespect to the AQ’s piano but I’d love to hear Carrothers on a Steinway someday.

“Just You Just Me.” “Call Me Irresponsible” (with lots of notes). “This Is Worth Fighting For,” a WWII recruiting song that blends “America the Beautiful” with “Amazing Grace” and “The Christmas Song.” “So in Love.” A lush and lengthy series of chords that seems headed toward “When I Fall in Love” but ends up somewhere else. Gordy and Kenny are hyper-watchful; it’s clear this night is going wherever Carrothers wants to take it, not by a set list. “Con Alma.” “Rhythm-a-ning.” “One Hand, One Heart” from West Side Story.

Sometimes Carrothers seems to forget he’s part of a trio and plays like he’s alone. Perhaps he forgets us, the audience, as well. Maybe it's because he takes off his shoes and performs in his stocking feet that he seems so comfortable, so at home. The night ends with “Thanks for the Memories,” and I think of Bob Hope and his USO Christmas shows and our service men and women still overseas and I’m pretty sure that’s where my mind is supposed to go.

We can stay for only the first set on Saturday, long enough to hear “You and the Night and the Music” (tender, reflective, tinged with sadness), more “Moonlight Serenade,” a not at all wistful version of “Autumn Leaves,” “My Old Kentucky Home” (a tune from his new CD with Matt Turner), a “Let It Snow” that morphs into “I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm.” Whatever Carrothers wants to play. A phrase from Kenny Werner pops into my head: Effortless mastery.

Watch Don Berryman's video of "Blood Count" from Friday night.




Photos to come.

Thirteen Candles: The AQ’s “Lucky 13” Anniversary Party

When: Sunday, Oct. 20, 2008 • Where: Artists’ Quarter • Who: Lots of people

In October 1995, the Artists’ Quarter moved from Minneapolis to St. Paul, a city not known for its nightlife. Yet there it has remained, drawing jazz lovers down the stairs of the Historic Hamm Building for real jazz six or seven nights each week, every month, all year long.

Sometimes it's jam-packed, SRO, and sometimes there are maybe 10 or 12 people in the audience. We've heard amazing music in that small basement club lined with posters and photos and album covers: Roy Haynes, Bill Carrothers, Lee Konitz, Jaleel Shaw, Ari Hoenig, Kenny Werner, Mose Allison, Craig Taborn, Greg Tardy, Eric Alexander, Bob Rockwell, Lew Tabackin, Ira Sullivan, Stephanie Nakasian, Rick Germanson, Jim Rotondi, Jon Weber, Dewey Redman, David Hazeltine, and on and on...and, of course, the countless area musicians who have made the AQ their second home, thanks to owner and resident drummer Kenny Horst.



Tonight, many are here to celebrate and perform: George Avaloz, the Tuesday Night Band, Phil Hey, Gordy Johnson, Dave Karr, Carole Martin, Debbie Duncan, Phil Aaron, Chris and JT Bates, Chris Thomson, Dean Magraw, Dean Granros, Peter Schimke, Tom Lewis, and I know I’m missing some because we aren’t able to come for the whole thing; it starts at 5, we arrive around 9. Just in time to hear Debbie Duncan sing “But Beautiful,” then Carole Martin rejoins her for “The End of a Beautiful Friendship.” Then the wonderful quartet How Birds Work, led by Peter Schimke, now with Chris Bates on bass. Even when Chris is standing still, he’s not standing still; he’s up and down on the balls of his feet, swaying, smiling, nodding his head, dancing with his bass.

The evening ends with a group called Shovel: Anthony Cox, Chris Thomson, Dean Magraw, JT Bates. Fine fine stuff. A tune called “Mr. Cox, High School Band Director.” Another: “Boulder Car.” Something about a car that runs on spring water and rocks? A brilliant back-and-forth between JT and Anthony on electric bass. Ellington’s “Take the Coltrane,” Anthony’s “Interracial Walk-by,” then “Verk in Progress,” a title that leads into a brief riff on Hogan’s Heroes and the number of bridges blown up on that show (Anthony: “I don’t know how the Allies got into Germany.”)

As the AQ's venerable doorman Davis says, "Dig Shovel!"



There’s supposed to be a jam session but it's already past midnight. Finish drink, pay bill, say thank-you and goodnight to Kenny, walk Jennifer to her car, go home, plan to return next weekend if not before.

Photos by John Whiting. Top to bottom: Lord Davis riles the crowd; How Birds Work; three-quarters of Shovel.

Jazz Jam at the AQ

When: Friday, June 20, 2008 • Where: Artists’ Quarter • Who: Mikkel Romstad, piano; Gary Berg, saxophone; Chris Bates, bass, Kenny Horst, drums



It’s a Twin Cities Jazz Festival tradition: Following the concerts in Mears Park on Friday and Saturday nights, musicians head to the Artists’ Quarter to jam. Last year, after Kenny Garrett’s fiery set, his drummer, Jamire Williams, came to the AQ and played for much of the night. This year, people were hoping that members of the Fort Apache Band would show. They didn’t. Maybe they were already en route to their next gig, or maybe they were too irritated by the graceless end to their Mears Park show.



No matter; it was a jam after all. Dave Karr brought his sax and so did Jim Marentic. For a while, a mysterious stranger sat in on congas. Sometimes we heard one horn player; sometimes two or all three. The music was straight-ahead, standards everyone knew. The musicians had fun and so did we.


Photos by John Whiting.

Jon Pemberton Tribute to Lee Morgan

When: 4/11/08
Where: Artists' Quarter
Who: Jon Pemberton (trumpet and flugelhorn), Jim Marentic (tenor sax), Chris Lomheim (piano), Tom Lewis (bass), Kenny Horst (drums)

I've seen Pemberton play at least once before, with Chris Thomson at Rogue Buddha, but never as a leader. And I like the little I know about Lee Morgan's music. His CD The Sidewinder, recorded for Blue Note in 1963 with Billy Higgins on drums, is one of my faves.

Charles Lloyd always called Billy Higgins "Master Higgins" and I can't see his name without hearing "Master."

Since this is a Morgan tribute, all of the music we hear tonight was either written by him or associated with him in some way. It's an evening of solid hard bop (soulful, bluesy, muscular jazz with fairly simple melodies; I've probably put my foot in it with such a minimalist definition, but there it is and comments are welcome). We hear "Something Cute," "Afreaka" (which Cedar Walton wrote for Morgan), and "The Double Up." Lewis is the Zen timekeeper, the Buddha of the bass, a picture of serenity yet completely in the groove.



Several of us request "Sidewinder" and get it in the second set. It's a tune that seems very similar to Herbie Hancock's "Watermelon Man," relaxed and easy. "Sidewinder" is a 10-minute track on the original CD and that has never been too long for me. I could put "Sidewinder" and "Watermelon Man" and Horace Silver's "Song for my Father" and Jimmy Smith's "The Sermon" on one CD and play it over and over again and be happy. All hard bop.

Throughout the night, Lomheim, Lewis and Horst look often at each other, as jazz musicians do. Pemberton communicates with his band but he also watches the crowd, makes eye contact, checks us out. Marentic seems both part of the group and off on a planet of his own. At one point, Pemberton nods and gestures to Lomheim, which looks a lot like "Your turn for a solo." Lomheim bends over the keys and Marentic takes off on his saxophone. No problem, Lomheim comps, but it's interesting to see.



Good band, good music, good night overall. Here's "Sidewinder" live courtesy of Don Berryman.



Photos by John Whiting.

Jim Rotondi

When: 4/5/08
Where: Artists' Quarter
Who: Jim Rotondi (trumpet and flugelhorn), Bill Carrothers (piano), Tom Lewis (trumpet), Kenny Horst (drums)

New York trumpeter Rotondi doesn't make it to St. Paul very often, and neither does Carrothers, so when the two perform together it's must-see jazz.

On the first tune, "It's You or No One," Carrothers is already playing as if he has spent the past several hours practicing scales and doing finger push-ups. He alternates between explosive runs and Zen-like calm.

On "What's New," Rotondi swaps trumpet for flugelhorn and Carrothers quotes "Honeysuckle Rose." I'm reminded of the need to pay close attention when Carrothers plays. As with all jazz (all music, for that matter), you can choose to sit back and let your mind wander while the music becomes background and still have a fine time, but you'll miss a lot, including the entire history of jazz and pop culture, which Carrothers brings to every performance and tosses in as if it's no big thing.

He is one of the least self-conscious performers I've ever seen. He sings out of tune while he plays in his stocking feet. He's a handsome guy but doesn't care if you can see him or not. Tonight he spends part of the first set behind a black metal music stand that blocks him from view by a large part of the crowd. Howard Gitelson, who wants to shoot pictures (as many of us do), takes advantage of a break between songs to ask if he can move the stand. Carrothers says sure.



"Easy to Remember" starts out as "But Not for Me," Monk's "Evidence" includes some "April in Paris." Clifford Brown's "Gerkin for Perkin" (great song title) gives way to "They Can't Take That Away from Me." Rotondi sounds terrific and he's enjoying himself.

Carrothers takes a solo and it's Mr. Toad's Wild Ride through the James Bond theme, "The Meaning of the Blues," Civil War tunes, and who knows what else; by the time my brain searches my memory of tunes to identify a theme or passage I'm hearing, it's long gone and has been followed by five more. I imagine if I were sitting closer, behind his chair (Carrothers never uses a bench, always a chair), I would hear his synapses firing.



The night ends with a fresh take on a familiar standard, "Without a Song." Carrothers storms the keys and Rotondi's brass is high and clear. Horst takes his big solo, starting on the high hat and cymbals, moving to the bass and toms. I wonder (as I have many times) why the drum solo always comes at the end. Carrothers closes with the "Jeopardy" theme.

Get a taste of the evening with Don Berryman's video:



Photos by John Whiting. Top to bottom: Rotondi, Carrothers, and Lewis, who's usually (like most bassists) in the shadows. Nice shot, Johnny.

Bruce Henry with the Tuesday Night Band

When: 3/25/08
Where: Artists' Quarter
Who: Bruce Henry (vocals), "Downtown" Bill Brown (Hammond B-3), Billy Franze (guitar), Kenny Horst (drums); surprise guest Reuben Ristrom (guitar)

After Blues in the Night, we walk a few blocks to the Hamm Building to hear Bruce Henry in his first-ever appearance with the AQ's Tuesday Night Band. Henry is a singer I never tire of hearing. He's moving to Chicago soon and breaking my heart. I'll just have to hear him as often as I can before then.

He starts his set with Horace Silver's "Song for My Father," a tune I didn't know had lyrics until now. Then something Henry describes as "a little bebop skebop," followed by a passionate "House of the Rising Sun." Debbie Duncan comes in from the Ordway and Henry joins her at the bar; she calls him "my brother." Meanwhile (apparently Tuesday night is a rapidly changing scene here) Reuben Ristrom gets called up out of the audience to join the band for "Bye Bye Blackbird" and (unless I misremember) "So What."



I haven't seen Ristrom play in years. He's the first guitarist I actually paid attention to, during a long-ago KBEM Winter Jazz Fest event. Until then, jazz to me had been all about piano and brass.

Taking pictures, I quickly learn that Ristrom plays with his eyes closed. He never, ever opens his eyes.

Henry returns for a soulful "What's Going On" (the second time in a week I've heard this performed live; J.D. Steele opened with it on Sunday), followed by "Summertime" and "Nature Boy." He's pulling out all the stops tonight, swinging and scatting and making trumpet sounds with his voice. The band can't stop smiling.

A break for Henry and up comes someone AQ doorman Davis Wilson only knows as "Chaco." He recently had a heart attack and now has a pacemaker. Dressed in gray leather, he sings "When I Fall in Love."

Jaleel Shaw

When: 3/7 and 3/8/08
Where: Artists’ Quarter
Who: Jaleel Shaw (alto saxophone), Chris Lomheim (piano), Billy Peterson (bass), Kenny Horst (drums)

After a blistering performance on Thursday 3/6 with the Roy Haynes Quartet, saxophonist Jaleel Shaw moved to the Artists’ Quarter for the weekend. I previewed his Twin Cities shows for MinnPost last week and had the chance to interview him by phone when he was still in NYC.

When he told me one of his goals for his own playing was to stay rooted, like Roy Haynes has, I asked him, “Who are your roots?”

Charlie Parker, Bobby Watson, Grover Washington, Johnny Hodges, Sonny Stitt. Right now I’m listening to a lot of tenor players, like Sonny Rollins, Coltrane, Dexter Gordon, Von Freeman, Dewey Redman, Joe Lovano, Joe Henderson. I always try to keep my ear open, to keep everything open. I’m listening to a lot of piano players lately, like Lenny Tristano, Herbie Hancock, McCoy, Keith Jarrett, Brad Mehldau.

Shaw has been to the AQ before, both with Haynes and on his own. He has played with Kenny Horst but never with Lomheim or Peterson (whom he introduces as “Bill” on both evenings). The music is as fine as what Shaw has taught us to expect in his previous appearances: fresh, imaginative straight-ahead standards and original compositions, played with confidence and a clear, strong tone. Tunes include “I Remember April,” “Bemsha Swing,” “I Can’t Get Started,” “Darn This Dream,” Cannonball Adderley’s “Nardis,” Joe Henderson’s “Inner Urge,” and selections from Shaw's new CD, Optimism.

Shaw brings out the best in the other members of the quartet. Everyone seems to be enjoying himself, and Billy Peterson draws my attention again and again; each bass solo tells its own story. As does each of the shirts he wears, but that’s another topic.

Davis Wilson, beloved AQ doorman, introduces the second night by inviting us all to share in “the precarious beauty of producing beauty on demand, which is what jazz is!”



Photos by John Whiting.

Jon Weber

When: 1/27/08
Where: The Artists' Quarter
Who: Jon Weber (piano), Gordy Johnson (bass), Kenny Horst (drums)

Weber is one of my favorite piano players. Self-taught, he can play anything, and he seems to know everything about music. He has perfect pitch and total recall; by age 6, he had memorized 2,000 standards from his grandmother's piano rolls. He's a riveting performer, a brilliant composer, and an imaginative improviser. Why he isn't more famous is a mystery. Maybe he's just too scary smart in a profession that requires more brains than most people realize.

Weber splits his time between New York and Chicago (six days a week in NYC, one day in the Windy City) and rarely comes to Minneapolis/St. Paul except for the annual Twin Cities Jazz Festival in June, where he's a beloved regular. This weekend, he played a private event in Minneapolis on Saturday, leaving Sunday free for the AQ.

Because Sunday was Jerome Kern's birthday (Weber appears to know—and quite possibly really does know—every composer's birthday, date and year, and when every song was written, and what movie or musical it came from, if it did), the first set at the AQ was devoted to the music of Jerome Kern: "Long Ago and Far Away" (from the 1944 musical Cover Girl), "Nobody Else But Me" (a tune Gordy Johnson recorded on his Trios Version 3.0 CD), "All the Things You Are," "The Song Is You," "I'm Old Fashioned" (from the movie You Were Never Lovelier), and "Old Man River" from the musical Showboat.

But that's not all we heard. Like most jazz artists, Weber never plays just one tune. Between statements of the melody (so we have some clue what we're hearing), he improvises. And Weber's improvisations are wild rides through pretty much everything musical. All jazz artists quote from other songs, but with Weber, the quotes are so diverse and they go by so fast you've barely figured one out before he's already three ahead. It's as if each improvisation is an opportunity for Weber to mine the vast and astonishing wealth of music in his head, and he does it at warp speed. I found myself holding my breath so I wouldn't miss a thing.

A lot of things I recognized but couldn't name flew by. A few I could: Bits of Mozart (Weber calls him "Zart;" the 27th was his birthday, too) from "Eine kleine Nachtmusik" and more. Snippets of "Hooray for Hollywood" and "Chicago" (that toddlin' town). John swears he heard a phrase from an old Woolite jingle ("You'd look better in a sweater washed in Woolite"). Nothing was off limits and it all fit.

Between tunes, Weber talked, filling us in on what he had just played and preparing us (sort of) for what was to come, peppering us with facts and stats and stories. "Here we are in the second century of jazz," he said, "and you don't know what you're going to get.... It's the flying trapeze jazz act without a net."

The second set left Kern behind and chased the rest of jazz: "Swanee" (stride style), James P. Johnson's "Worried and Lonesome Blues" (Weber: "Someday I'm going to dedicate a whole show to songs with 'and' in the title.... 'You and the Night and the Music' will be a double"), "I'm Beginning to See the Light," Oscar Peterson's "Riff Blues," "Alone Together," "Very Early" (written by a 19-year-old Bill Evans), Charlie Christian's "A Smooth One," and "Sonnymoon for Two" by Sonny Rollins.



Introducing "Sonnymoon," Weber mentioned that Rollins was one of seven surviving jazz artists in the famous "Great Day in Harlem" photograph taken by Art Kane in 1958, a copy of which hangs on a wall at the AQ. Weber named six survivors but couldn't come up with the seventh, so after the set he and Kenny Horst and Davis Wilson and a few others gathered around the photo to try to figure it out.

Photos: Top: Jon Weber by John Whiting. Bottom: L to R: "Great Day in Harlem," Kenny Horst, HH, unidentified man, Jon Weber, Davis Wilson.