Les suggested we try a ballad for the next side, so Paul Chambers said, "You know what would be a nice tune for alto and the way you play? 'Imagination.' Do you know that?" I "aid, "Yeah, I've heard that. Bah dah dah dahhhh dah... " Red said, "That's A flat." I said, "Well, I was just goofing around." We ran through the melody and the bridge and then I said, "What should we do at the ending?" Red said, "Just do a little tag kind of thing. Just make it a free kind of thing." I played the melody and then I blew; Red played; Paul played; I came in and just followed along, a little series of chords; and then they stopped and I played a little ad lib kind of thing and we went into the ending. It was just fantastic. "Imagination" on Art Pepper Meets the Rhythm Section. It sounded as if we'd been rehearsing for months.
That's the way the whole thing went. We played a lot of things I'd liked but never done. And I really moved them, you know. And that's something. They'd been playing with Miles! And me being white! They were all real friendly and said it was beautiful, and they dug the way I played. Diane looked at me, like, "Would I forgive her?" and "Wasn't I happy?" And I was so relieved it was over I told her, "Everything's cool." So that was the session, and when it came out the people really liked it.
ART PEPPER
ART PEPPER MEETS THE RHYTHM SECTION-Contemporary C 3532: You'd Be So Nice to Come Home To; Red Pepper Blues; Imagination; Waltz Me Blues; Straight Life; Jazz Me Blues; Tin Tin Deo; Star Eyes; Birks' Works.
Personnel: Pepper, alto; Red Garland, piano; Paul Chambers, bass; Philly Joe Jones, drums.
Rating: * * * * *
At time of writing, this album is exactly one year in release. Why it has not been reviewed until now is quite unfathomable, for it certainly was one of the best jazz albums of last year and probably Pepper's most mature recording to date. The session was held Jan. 19, 1957, when Lester Koenig availed himself of the Miles Davis rhythm section, then in Hollywood with the trumpeter to play a local night club.
The altoist and rhythm section are indeed well met in this balanced set of eight tunes ranging from a purely played Imagination to some intriguing three-quarter jazz in Waltz Me. The solos of all con cerned are of consistent interest, with Pepper at times reaching heights he's seldom attained even under most congenial conditions in a club. In Red Pepper, a down-homey blues, Art's Lester Young-like phrasing in his opening chorus clearly shows where the roots lie.
As soloist and comper, Garland is authoritative and original. He can be alternately strong and delicate, sparely laconic, and ripplingly virtuosic. The bass-drums team here is peerless, with Chambers getting off some well-conceived pizzicato and arco solos. Jones' brush chorus in Waltz Me bears endless replaying for its taste and humor.
This memorable meeting deserves a favored place in anybody's collection. (J.A.T.) down beat, June 12, 1958. Copyright 1958 by down beat. Reprinted by special permission.
(John Koenig) My father always told me Art was the best alto player in town. He responded to Art early. And he told him early on, "Look, if you respect anything about my judgment, you better stop taking dope. It's gonna mess you up." Art said, "Yeah." And that was that.
They recorded a few albums in the early fifties. He thought Art wasn't getting a chance to play with people that were up to him, which was why he wanted to make those records like Meets The Rhythm Section and Gettin' Together. But, unfortunately, Art started getting into trouble, and that effectively took him off the scene. He would come back for a brief stay and try to get something together. Les was genuinely disturbed but he couldn't prevail upon Art to stop.
I'd say the first thing Les liked about Art was that he didn't play like anybody else. He wasn't anybody's man but his own. Art was the best player around then. (I'm not saying that he isn't now.) There were a couple other good alto players in the country at the time: there was Cannonball, and there was Jackie McLean, Phil Woods. It's hard to think of anybody else that you could identify as a powerful individual force. And Art was here. Les responded to Art basically because Art was something special.
Les was always interested in-whatever the human endeavor, he was interested in something unusual. Even to the extent that he would prefer an unusual idea that wasn't carried off as well to one that was normal and carried off letter-perfect. That's probably what made his identity as a collector and a record producer. He was kind of contrary, you know. He was the first person to record Ornette Coleman. And Les was the most meticulous person I ever saw. He was meticulous, and, if known for nothing else, at least in this business he's probably remembered for being about the most honest person in the record industry.
I was a little kid when Art started coming around. I heard stories that he was a dashing kind of guy, in a way a stereotype of a hard-living jazz musician of the time, with all the dope and all the women and all the playing. But I think Art was a more legitimate jazz player than any of the other ones out here. He went along with the life-style. I don't mean the dope, but Central Avenue and that whole thing; whereas I listen to the other records of white players in town at the time-they're good records but Art came from a tradition. He was the genuine article.
Art was very unsure of himself after he got out, after his big ordeal. He'd come around, and my father would ask him how he was doing, how he was playing, and my father would try to encourage him. Every time Art would leave, you'd get the feeling, what a waste. My father was genuinely upset. They developed a personal rapport which was a kind of private thing.
PEPPER'S PROGRESS By John Tynan
"For the first time in my 32 years I've got a piano at home."
Art Pepper smiled happily, snuffed out a cigarette and continued, "I got it in August. You've no idea how much it means to me-not only where my music is concerned, but psychologically. It's like a symbol of a new life."
Symbol of a new life ... a phrase in which the key word stands out in brilliant contrast to the living death of heroin addiction which entombed the altoist for some of the most vital years of his young manhood and musical creativity.
It has been truly opined that, to an artist, the "public" is a most fickle mistress. Consider the following statistics:
In 1951, when Art Pepper was alto star of the Stan Kenton band, final tabulation for first and second places in the alto sax division of down beat's Readers Poll read as follows: Charlie Parker, 957 votes; Art Pepper, 945.
In 1955, when Pepper was imprisoned in the federal penitentiary for violation of parole stemming from his first arrest two years previously, he had plummeted in public favor to 18th place in this magazine's annual poll with votes totaling 31.
But in 1956, just a few months after his return to music, with no out-of-town appearances for new albums on the market to his credit, he had soared to 9th place. In the just-finished 1957 poll, he moved all the way to second.
What of Pepper today, his problems and aspirations? What has kept him away from heroin-and inevitable further imprisonmentfor one-and-a-half years? As may be surmised, he is reluctant to discuss so painful a subject. He did, however, make the following observations with characteristic candor and the reiterated hope that others might profit from his own experience.
"So far as problems are concerned," he said thoughtfully, "the biggest one I've had since I got out was being back in the same environment. By that I mean night clubs, mainly. And having to contend with the creeps who approached me with the idea of selling some junk. At first, this was a constant problem and temptation. It wasn't until word got around that I'd put down that scene that the pushers began to ease up"
He raked his dark, unruly hair with nervous fingers and lit another cigarette. "My own personal problems, of course, also had to be met-the complexes I was left with after goofing for years; the inability to have confidence in myself and in my playing.
"In June of last year, for example, when I first got out, I felt it would take a long time to get back my chops. In fact, there were many times after that when I was convinced that I was through in music. I was nervous, unsure of myself, afrai
d I wouldn't know the new tunes, or that I no longer was hip to what was happening in jazz. Most of all, I guess, I was deathly scared that people wouldn't like the way I played."
His brow was deeply furrowed. "There were some people, too, who made it tough for me to make a living in music. But here I've got to draw the line. There's just so much I feel free to say ... "
Responsible medical opinion holds that an individual, once hooked on heroin, is forever unfree from the sometimes intolerable "yen" for just one jolt of the drug that once dominated his every waking moment. How does Pepper combat this tearing desire to "fix just once," that twists every addict after he has kicked?
"The yen is still there, of course," admitted Pepper grimly. "I dream about it. It's a very real thing. There are pressures within myself arising from the knowledge that once you've used, it's the simplest escape there is. You never forget that. You forget all the bad parts of being addicted; remember just the good. And the worst is, you rationalize about it until you've almost forgotten what it will lead to.
"But, like a person with a bad stomach, you learn to live with it and do what you can to take care of yourself. When the yen for a fix becomes bad, I've gotten into the habit of performing a sort of ritual that helps to keep me straight.
"It's just a thought process ... I think about the progressive steps that'll result from my goofing. First of all, I consider, the narcotics detail gets the word and before long I get picked up. This has got to happen; there's no escape. Then I get sent up for maybe 30, 40 years. My record takes care of that. I think about never again seeing my wife, my friends ... never again being able to play, which is the thing I want to do more than anything else. Well, by the time I'm through with this line of thought, I'm shaking with fear, so scared that the feeling is gone."
At 32, Art Pepper feels he is just approaching maturity. He now believes that you can't avoid the everyday responsibilities of living and that meeting them is actually easier than avoiding them. In this, he acknowledges his wife, Diane, as the constant stabilizer. ("You have to be loved; you have to know that someone loves you. When you do, everything is easier.")
Those early fears and feelings of musical inadequacy when he returned to professional life, seem now dreamlike and wispy to the altoist. Not only has he "got his chops back," but he is increasingly regarded by critical authority as one of the most important contributors to contemporary jazz. The ever-present depth and passion in his solo playing, stemming possibly from the suffering in his life, gives to his musical conception a strength and basic emotional quality possessed by few of his contemporaries.
Since last summer, Pepper has recorded for several west coast labels. When he badly needed funds, shortly after his release form the penitentiary, a tempting bonus offered by the owners of Intro Records (an Aladdin subsidiary) induced him to exclusively sign with that company. All but two of the albums he made for Intro have now been released. But that company has abruptly swerved from a jazz policy (its basic catalog is almost wholly rhythm and blues) and Pepper's contract is on the block to the highest bidder. At this critical point in his career, Pepper is without a home label.
Since his return to jazz, considers Art, he hasn't noted any pro gressive changes. "Matter of fact," he declares, "so far as I can see, the music has stagnated. Nothing new is happening now, there's no progress evident like when I was a kid. Another thing I've noticed is that there's no spirit of camaraderie among jazz musicians anymore. They all seem to follow the attitude of the nation: competition. 'Keeping up with the Joneses' is keeping down the jazzman.
"When I was coming up," Art reflected nostalgically, "there were 13 or 14 big swing bands. There was a need for blowers. Today, who are the blowers going to blow for, themselves?
"But then there are hardly any really good young musicians. Just Bird and Miles imitations-all the way. And to make it worse, today it seems like nobody is helping anybody else, saying, 'blow, man, blow.' So it's really not the young cats' fault."
For a jazz musician who unequivocally states, "I dig blowing by myself; I feel I play better," Art Pepper's biggest ambition is somewhat surprising! He'd like to have a big band of his own-12 or 13 pieces.
"I want a band that could shout, along the lines of Kenton's or Woody's, with way out arrangements. But," with a sigh, "money is imperative. And then, if Barnet can't make it all year round, how can I? No, I've got no hopes at all of ever having a band like that."
Reflecting on the future, Art murmured with a wistfulness somehow lent substance by perceivable resolve, "In my 50s I'd like to write a symphony." Then, strongly, "I make no distinction between jazz and classical music, so I don't see what's so strange in my wanting to write an important long work, do you?"
Reverting to the more immediate future, however, "I'd really like to come up with something original. It would have to be a swinging thing. To find a sound ... something of my own, though, not like a chamber group. Jazz, in the purest sense of the word. Maybe a combination of alto, tenor, trombone, and rhythm; or alto, tenor, and rhythm. Anyway, whatever it'll be, I'd like my own group to have the popular success of, say, Chico Hamilton's."
The Art Pepper of December, 1957, is remote in spirit and ambition from the pitiable addict of three years ago. For helping him on the road to recovery, he expresses deep-felt gratitude to Richard Bock, president of World Pacific Records, ". . . and all people who've helped me. When I got out of jail," he said, "I had no wife, no girlzero. But Dick Bock contacted me then and gave, just gave me money to put me back on my feet. How can I ever forget that? He's helped me many times since when I didn't know what I was going to do.
"But my wife is the one who's made me happier than I've ever been in my life. Now I really look forward to my older years. I used to be scared of growing old-but not now. Diane has done more for me in one year than all others did in my life's entirety.
"Whatever I may do in music from now on and whatever credit I may get for it belongs to her. She didn't give me back just my selfrespect and career. Diane gave me back my life." down beat, January 9, 1958. Copyright 1958 by down beat. Reprinted by special permission.
ART PEPPER
"Living without love is like not living at all"
For over a decade, Art Pepper has been recognized as belonging in the top echelon of modern jazz alto saxophonists.
This sensitive, serious minded musician, at 33, is perhaps at the height of his creativity.
Pepper was born in the Los Angeles suburb of Gardena; is thus an original "west coaster." His earliest jazz influence, he says, was tenor man Zoot Sims.
While playing with the Stan Kenton orchestra, with which he first attracted national attention, Pepper was featured in a solo work, Art Pepper, composed and arranged by Shorty Rogers. Under the pseudonym "Art Salt," he was featured in Rogers' Capitol album, Modern Sounds, one of the first examples of what came to be labeled "West Coast Style."
In recent years Pepper has been working around the Los Angeles area, San Francisco, and other western states with his own quartet. Next month he hopes to make a trans-atlantic hop to Milan, Italy, where he expects to record an album for World-Pacific Records followed by a -tour of the continent.
For the following Cross Section, Pepper offered his views on the following topics:
THE RHYTHM SECTION (PHILLY JOE JONES, PAUL CHAMBERS, RED GARLAND): "I was fortunate enough to make an album with these three. All I can say is that if I could play with them every night for a year, I feel I could really get with my horn. They're the greatest!"
ZOOT SIMS: "He's the most natural, swinging musician I've ever heard. I think I could achieve complete satisfaction playing with him in a small group. Add Miles for the third horn and going to work each night would be the ultimate."
GIL EVANS: "His writing for Miles on Miles Ahead to me was the most perfect thing I've ever heard done for a soloist with band. Gil's understanding of Miles was perfect. I'd love to have the opportunity of doing an album with Gil with the same writing approac
h."
CRITICS: "Although I've been very fortunate in receiving fair critical comment as a whole. I really can't say that I'd want to be a critic myself. Even with 23 years musical background, I just wouldn't feel qualified to judge another's performance."
FOOTBALL: "The greatest of all games. And the Los Angeles Rams are number one by me."
RHYTHM SECTION: "It's very difficult to find a section that plays for the soloist. Piano players seem to think it old-fashioned to play the basic chords, leaving the soloist free to improvise with altered notes, etc."
ELIZABETH TAYLOR: "She is such a gas. Wow!"
COMPOSERS: "Aside from Gil Evans, I most appreciate Al Cohn, Gerry Mulligan. Bill Holman, and Quincy Jones. So far as classical composers are concerned, there are many-but Stravinsky, Milhaud, and Ravel are my favorites. Ravel's Daphnis et Chloe (parts 1 and 3) is the most complete and perfect composition I've ever heard."
LITTLE ROCK: "I feel that the situation there is one of the worst tragedies of our time. We can never hope for goodwill from the outside world as long as this state of affairs persists. It is in complete defiance of the Constitution."
STAN KENTON: "I've never encountered a stronger personality. If Stan had chosen the field of evangelism I'm sure he'd have been as effective as Billy Graham."
MARRIED LIFE: "My first experience failed because of my immaturity. But my second venture has proved a lifesaver. Diane, my wife, is just the greatest. Living without love is like not living at all."
CARL PERKINS: "His loss hit me very deeply. We had worked together many times. Carl's talent was very great and as a person I thought of him as a rare friend. The last recordings I made under my own name were done with Carl. Unfortunately, they are owned by Aladdin (Intro) Records and have been released in stereo on Omegatape only. Carl's playing on these two albums was his greatest recorded work."
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