porter ullman sidney bechet and his long song

8/10/2019 Porter Ullman Sidney Bechet and His Long Song

1/17


2/17

Sidney

Bechet and His

Long

Song*

BY LEWIS PORTER AND MICHAEL

ULLMAN

IN

1923,

clarinetist and

soprano-saxophonist

Sidney

Bechet

(1897-1959)

was

arguably

the

greatest

soloist

in

jazz,

although

soon

afterwards he was overtaken

by

his

lifelong

rival,

Louis

Armstrong (1901-1971).1 In the early twenties Bechet played with

a

rhythmic

drive

and technical skill

then

unparalleled,

and

he

improvised

more

freely

than

most other

jazz

musicians.

In

1923,

jazz

players

tended to think of

the solo as a set

piece,

an

original

composition

to

be

worked on

and

polished

in

private,

and to

be

played

in

roughly

the same

way

at each

performance.

Bechet

and

Armstrong,

however,

improvised

their

solos

to the

fullest

extent,

and influenced

others

to follow

their direction in what

turned

out

to

be the

way

of

the

future,

although

the difference

may

best

be

seen as a change in emphasis rather than a complete break with the

past.

We know more

about Bechet

than about most of his contem-

poraries,

for

fortunately

he

left behind

an

autobiography,

Treat It

Gentle

(published

posthumously

in

1960),

which

serves

as

a

primary

source of

documentation.2

All

references

to,

and comment

by

Be-

chet in

the

present

article

are based

on

the

autobiography

unless

otherwise indicated.

Bechet

was

"discovered" when

he

was about six

years

old. He

started as a clarinetist by surreptitiously picking up his brother's

clarinet,

and

teaching

himself

to

play.

According

to

legend

and to

his own

testimony,

the

first tune

he

learned

was

the

prophetic

"I

don't know where I'm

going

but

I'm

on

my way."

Within

a rela-

tively

short

time he

gained

some

measure of

competence

and

soon

found an

occasion to

demonstrate

it. His mother

had

planned

a

birthday

party

for

brother

Leonard,

an

amateur trombone

player

who

was

studying

to be

a

dentist,

and

had hired

Freddie

Keppard's

jazz

band to

provide

the

music.

But the

clarinetist,

George

Baquet,

failed to show up. Consequently, the assembled guests were startled

to

hear,

softly

in

the

background,

the

sound of

a

clarinet

sweetly

improvising.

After

searching

through

the

house,

they finally

came

into the

office

area,

and

there,

sitting

in

the

dark in

a

dentist

chair,

*

Much

of

this

material

will

appear

in

a

forthcoming

history

of

jazz

by

the

present

authors,

to be

published

by

Prentice-Hall,

nc.

Some of

its

material

previously

appeared

in

a

liner

essay

written

by

Lewis Porter for

the LP

reissue

Smithsonian

R026,

Louis

Armstrong

nd

Sidney

Bechet

n

New York.


3/17

THE

BLACK

PERSPECTIVE

IN

MUSIC

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4/17

SIDNEY BECHET

young

Bechet was

blowing

softly

into his

instrument

(Bechet,

71).

From

that

time

on, however,

he

was

rarely

willing

to

play

in

the

background. In the New Orleans ensembles that nurtured Bechet

and

Armstrong,

the cornetist was

constrained

to

paraphrasing

the

melody

and,

often at

the

same

time,

selecting appropriate

orna-

mental

notes.

The

trombonist created a

slower

countermelody

based

on chord

progressions,

while the

clarinetist,

the least con-

cerned with the written

melody,

played

florid

obbligatos,

using

scales and

arpeggios.

But Bechet

was

unwilling

to

accept

this

tradi-

tional

supportive

role of the clarinet.

The

New Orleans clarinetists

tended to

play

with an

incredibly

rich, packed, woody sound, and Bechet would retain this sound

throughout

his lifetime.

Sometimes

the sound was achieved at the

sacrifice

of

some

fluency,

but the New Orleans clarinetists valued

speed

and

grace.

The

most famous

clarinet solo

in

their

tradition,

the chorus on

"High Society," actually

is a

piccolo

solo

from

a

Robert Recker

arrangement.

It

was first

adapted

for

clarinet

by

Alphonse

Picou,

and then

memorized

by

generations

of New Or-

leans clarinetists.

"High Society"

was

first

recorded

on

22

June

1923

by

the

King

Oliver

band with

Johnny

Dodds on

clarinet.

A

thirty-two bar, A B A C form, it allows ample room for Dodds to

display

his

improvisational

skills.

The

first half

of the

clarinet

chorus

is transcribed

in

Example

1.3

What one hears in

Sidney

Bechet's

early

work

is a virtuosic

extension

of

this New

Orleans clarinet

tradition. As a

boy

Bechet

was immersed in

that

tradition:

he

studied with creole

clarinetists

Lorenzo

Tio,

"Big Eye"

Louis

Nelson,

and

George

Baquet.

He did

parade

work with

Henry

Allen's

(Sr.)

celebrated Brass

Band,

and

played

with the

Olympia

Orchestra,

the

Eagle,

and

with

John

Robichaux's

"genteel"

dance orchestra. He

played

all this music

mainly

by

ear

Bechet

never

became

a

good

reader,

and

in

his

maturity

was sensitive

about this

failing,

but he

seemed able to

pick

up

any

tune

immediately.

The

precocious youth's

apprenticeship

in New

Orleans

was

both

basic and

thorough.

In 1911

or

1912,

he

played

with

cornetist

Bunk

Johnson

in

the

Eagle

Band of New

Orleans,

and

in

1913 or

1914

he

performed

with

King

Oliver in

the

Olympia

Band. At

some

time in 1915

he

was with

Kid

Ory's

band,

and in 1915-1916

was

again

with

Oliver,

who

by

that time had his own

group.

In

addition

to

his work in

New

Orleans,

Bechet led

an

itinerant

life from

1914

to

1917,

touring

in

shows,

and

going

as far

north as

Chicago,

where

he

frequently

teamed with

a third New

Orleans

cornetist,

the

great

Freddie

Keppard.

A

clannish,

difficult

man,

Keppard

and

the

prickly

Bechet

got

on

perfectly

together.

Also

in

Chicago,

Bechet

performed

in a duo

with another New

Orleans

native,

Tony

Jackson,

one of

Jelly

Roll

Morton's

favorite

pianists

and

the

composer

of

"Pretty Baby."

137


5/17

THE

BLACK

PERSPECTIVE

IN

MUSIC

Will

Marion Cook was

on

tour

in 1919 with

his New

York

Syncopated

Orchestra,

when he heard

Bechet

play

during

the

orchestra's

stop

at

Chicago

in

February

and

persuaded

the

clarinetist

to

join

the

orchestra

as

a soloist.

Cook had

a

versatile

organization

that used

jazz

as

only

one of

its

styles-he

auditioned

Bechet

by

having

him

play

a cadenza

from

the

Poet and

Peasant

Overture. Cook

would

feature

Bechet

playing

the blues in

pro-

grams

that included

everything

from

spiritual

arrangements,

such

as

"Joshua

fit the

battle

of

Jericho,"

to

transcriptions

of

Brahms's

Hungarian

Dances.

Finally,

in

the

spring

of

1919,

Bechet arrived

in New

York,

where he

joined

Cook and soon after sailed to

England

with the

orchestra.

They

arrived at London in

June

1919,

and

immediately

began

an

engagement

at

the

Royal

Philharmonic Hall.

Cook's

group

was

warmly

received

by

the

critics and the

public,

and

Bechet

especially

attracted wide

attention.

His

performance

brought

forth a

prescient

review

from

the

Swiss

conductor,

Ernest

Ansermet,

who,

after

hearing

Bechet

play

his featured

"Charac-

teristic

Blues,"

wrote:

There is in the SouthernSyncopatedOrchestraan extraordinaryclarinet

virtuoso who

is,

so it

seems,

the

first

of

his

race to have

composed perfectly

formed

blues

on

the

clarinet.

I've

heard two

of

them

which

he

had elabo-

rated at

great length,

then

played

to

his

companions

so that

they

are

equally

admirable

for

their

richness

of

invention,

force of

accent,

and

daring

in

novelty

and the

unexpected.

Already, they

gave

the idea of

a

style,

and

their form

was

gripping,

abrupt,

harsh,

with a

brusque

and

pitiless

ending

like

that

of

Bach's

second

Brandenburg

Concerto.

I

wish

to

set down

the

name

of

this

artistof

genuis;

as

for

myself,

I

shall never

forget

it-it is

Sidney

Bechet.

Ansermet

concluded

that

Bechet's

way

"is

perhaps

the

highway

the

whole

world will

swing

along

tomorrow."4

While in

London,

Bechet

picked

up

a

straight

soprano

saxophone

and soon

developed

on

this

difficult

instrument one of

the

most

extravagant,

and

least

polite,

sounds

in

jazz-a

broad,

wailing cry,

openly

and

sometimes

throbbingly

emotional.

Bechet's

clarinet

playing

was

warm,

woody,

and

intimate,

despite

his use

of

the

broad

vibrato

that

was

typical

of

some

New

Orleans reed

players. His tone on soprano was larger, smoother, and more

romantic

than on

the

clarinet.

He

mused

on the

clarinet;

on

the

soprano

he

soared

recklessly.

Bechet

tended

to

overwhelm

any

ensemble

he

played

with.

He

would

start

a

chorus

by

hitting

a

high,

throbbing

note

with

a

vibrato

so

broad

it

sounded

like

a

trill,

descend

with

a

whinnying

stutter,

grumble

in

the

lower

register,

twirl

around

with

little

triplet

figures,

and

rip

upwards

again,

traversing

over

an

octave

in

a

single,

dramatic

rush.

To

emphasize

a

high

note,

he

might

add

a

138


6/17

SIDNEY

BECHET

grace

note an

octave

below.

As

early

as

1923,

he had

a

practice

on

fast numbers

of

hanging

a few

daringly lazy

notes

tantalizingly

over

the

rhythm. Just

when he seemed

ready

to stumble, he would

pick

himself

up

with

several

rapidly

executed

staccato

figures

that

re-

turned

him

squarely

to the

beat.

Bechet liked

to talk about music

as

if

it had a will of its

own;

the

job

of

a

musician

was

to find

out where the

music wanted to

go.

But

in

his

own

playing

he

typically

seemed to drive the music

before

him,

especially

in

his last choruses.

His

performance

on the

mar-

velous

"Maple

Leaf

Rag"

of

1932

ends with

several choruses

of

roof-raising

fervor

that

seemed to

surprise

all the

players exceptBechet

himself. He knew how

to build

a

performance,

chorus

by

chorus,

so

that he

always

made

a

splash

at the end. He

loved

melodies,

including

some

that seem

corny today; by

the

fifties,

"La

Vie

en

Rose,"

"Dear Old

Southland,"

"Song

of

Songs,"

and

even

"Swanee

River" were

a

regular

part

of

his

repertoire.5

Bechet

returned to New

York from

Europe

late

in

1922.

On 30

July

1923,

he

went into

the

studios to

make his

earliest

surviving

recordings.6

(An

earlier

session with

Bessie Smith

has

been

lost.)

The sessions were led by Clarence Williams (c1893-1965), a pianist

and

songwriter,

who

was

more

important

in the

music

world

as

a

music

publisher

and

record

producer.

Bechet

dominates the

"Wild

Cat

Blues"

and

"Kansas

City

Man

Blues,"

overshadowing

the

more

reticent

cornetist,

Thomas

Morris. "Wild

Cat Blues"

is not a

blues,

neither in

form

nor

mood.

Following

in

the

multi-thematic

ragtime

tradition,

it

has

four

themes,

each

sixteen

bars

long,

which

appear

in

the

following

order:

(four-bar

intro)

A

B

A C

D C

D C

(coda

based

on

D).

Bechet's

handling

of

the

breaks

in

the

minor-key

D

sections is particularly revealing. For the most part, he simply

arpeggiates

chords,

albeit

with

great

precision.

But

his

second

break in

the

second

D

section

is

more

rhythmically

creative: with

its

long,

initial

high

note and

syncopated

accent on

the

fourth

beat,

it

anticipates

Armstrong's

confident

breaks of

a

few

years

later.

Example

2.

Bechet's

break

from

"Wild

Cat

Blues."

/=intense

vibrato

Bechet

states the

theme of

the

"Kansas

City

Man

Blues,"

a

genuine,

twelve-bar

blues,

in

vibrant

long

tones

and

sharp

yips.

He

plays

his

soprano

saxophone

with

such

vigor

that

it

is

clear from

the

beginning

he

will

not

be

bound

by

the

restraints of

the

usual

accompanying

role

of

the

clarinetist.

Morris

is

overwhelmed

by

Bechet's

wonderfully

vocalistic

approach

to

blues-vocalistic

espe-

cially

in

its

rhythmic

freedom.

In

measure

4

of

the

first and

second

139


7/17

THE

BLACK

PERSPECTIVE

IN MUSIC

choruses,

Bechet

plays

a

characteristic

descending

formula,

which

will

reappear

in later

solos.

Example

3.

Bechet's

formula

from

"Kansas

City

Man

Blues."

=

88

Growl

/ *i

2r

V

/

+?

jj

Bechet's blues solos

are full of

heavy

blues

inflections,

but he

often ends a chorus, as he does on "New Orleans Hop Scop Blues"

(recorded

in

October

1923),

with

a

major

third,

which

helps

to

resolve the

tension

created

by

the

preceding

"blue" thirds.

This

strategy

is

used

also on

later

records;

it

appears

twice,

for

example,

during

the

first

chorus of

his

"Blue

Horizon"

recording

of

1944.7

Example

4.

Bechet's blues formula.

The

"New

Orleans

Hop Scop

Blues" is

another

genuine

blues;

from

the

third chorus

on

it has a

strong boogie-woogie feeling.

In

an

example

of

long-range

planning

that was rare

in

1923,

Bechet

develops

in

the final chorus

a distinctive

idea

he

has

introduced

in

the fourth

chorus.

The idea forms the

basis

of

his final chorus.

Example

5.

Motive

in

Bechet's solo

on

"Hop

Scop

Blues"

chorus

4,

mm.

4-6.

3

In

October

1924

Bechet

joined

Louis

Armstrong

for

a

record-

ing

session,

directed

by

Clarence

Williams,

that

produced

"Texas

Moaner

Blues." One

is

immediately

struck

by

the

equality

of the

three

lead voices:

Armstrong

on

cornet,

Bechet

on

clarinet,

and

Charles

Irvis

on

trombone.

(Perhaps

they

are too

independent;

the

ensemble

does not

have an ideal coherent sound.) Armstrong's solo

is

notable

for

its

rhythmic

variety,

and

because

it

has some

of

the

freedom

from

the beat

that characterizes

Bechet's

early

work.

It is

not

technically

polished,

however,

and

Armstrong

does

not

utilize

space

with the

sublime

control

of

later

recordings.

Bechet

switches

to

soprano

sax for

his

urgent

solo,

with

its

powerful

vibrato,

throat

growls,

and

wailing

blue

notes.

Bechet would

record

with

Armstrong again

on

17

December

1924,

but the

masterpiece

of their

collaboration,

and one of the

140


8/17

SIDNEY

BECHET

most

glorious

three minutes in all of

jazz,

was made

8

January

1925.

The

unlikely

vehicle was the

Clarence

Williams

song

"Cake

Walkin' Babies from Home." It was

sung

on this date

by

Williams's

wife,

Eva

Taylor.

While her

sprightly

voice

lights up

this

pop-style

song,

the

joy

of the

performance

comes

with

its last two

ensemble

choruses,

during

which the

intensely

competive

Bechet

and

Armstrong

push

and

prod

each

other in

a

kind of

incandescent

free-for-all.

It is

a

masterpiece

of

what we

might

call

the "new" New

Orleans

style.

After

a

couple

of

stunning

Bechet

breaks,

Armstrong

sud-

denly explodes

with

several

repeated notes, higher

and louder

than

anything

he had

played

before,

that

sound like a

wake-up

call to

the

jazz

age.

He

seems

to

be

inventing

a

new,

harder kind

of

swing by

an act of sheer will.

Later,

Bechet

would

talk,

from his

unique

perspective,

about

what

made

these

sessions

so

valuable:

We were

working together.

Each

person,

he

was

the other

person's

music;

you

could feel

that

really

running

through

the

band,

making

itself

up

and

coming

out so new

and

strong

(Bechet,

176)

The

period

of

Bechet's

greatest

fame in the

United States

came

in the thirties after he

began

recording

under his own name for

Victor

and for

Blue

Note. In

1932

he

assembled a band with

his

friend,

trumpeter

Tommy

Ladnier,

also a

native

of

New

Orleans,

and recorded

six

numbers for

Victor.8

Among

them were

"Maple

Leaf

Rag;"

an

intense,

skittish

version of

"I've

found a new

baby";

and

a

sunny

rendition

of

a

novelty

number,

"Lay

Your

Racket"-all

presided

over

by

Bechet's

graceful

soprano

figures.

After

a

six-year

gap,

Bechet

again

recorded

with

Ladnier. Their

"Really

the

Blues,"

written

by

the

second

clarinetist

on

the

date,

Milton

"Mezz"

Mezzrow,

became

something

of

a hit.

During

1939

and

1940,

Bechet

recorded

regularly

with

a

quartet

that

included

the

young

Kenny

Clarke,

soon

to

become

a

formative

drummer of

modern

jazz.

These

titles

include

some

rare

Bechet

vocals,

among

them,

the

relaxed

and

informal

"Sidney's

Blues,"

which

has him

singing

about a

cat who

stood

up

"and

talked

like

a

natural man."

Bechet

was not

trying

to

rival

Bessie

Smith.

He

was

adventurous in

other

ways.

In

1939,

for

example,

he

recorded, with "Willie the Lion" Smith and "Zutty" Singleton, a

group

of

rhumbas and

Haitian

meringues,

emphasizing

their

infec-

tious

Carribean

dance

rhythms.9

Bechet

must

have

enjoyed

this

enterprise,

because he

totally

subsumes

himself

to the

music,

play-

ing

the

melodies

and

harmony

parts

simply,

without

elaborate

improvisation.

Perhaps

he

remembered

hearing

such

material in

New

Orleans

during

his

youth.

More

important

was his

recording

in

1939

of

the

celebrated

"Summertime"

for

Blue

Note.

(He

would

switch

between

Victor

and Blue Note until 1943, the year he did his last session for

141


9/17

THE

BLACK

PERSPECTIVE IN

MUSIC

Victor.)

Played

by

Bechet on the

soprano,

"Summertime"

begins

with

a

sweetly

restrained statement of the

melody.

Bechet holds

his

vibrato in check until the second

chorus,

then

suddenly

growls

menacingly

and

opens up,

rising

in

pitch,

volume,

and

intensity

until he

reaches

the

striking

break

with which the

piece

ends.

Just

as

potent

is

the

celebrated

blues,

"Blue

Horizon"

of

1944,

which

Bechet

plays-one

is

tempted

to

say

sings-with

slow-motion

dig-

nity,

bending

notes

in

and out

of

pitch, moving

pensively

through

the chalumeau

register

of

the

clarinet,

and

building

up

to

long high

notes of

hair-raising

intensity.

There were

other

magnificent recordings

in the forties.

Among

the Victor

recordings

of

the

period

are several

pieces

by

Ellington,

including

"The

Mooche" in a

version that

Ellington

himself

was

said

to

admire,

and

"Mood

Indigo."

There

is little of a

middle-

eastern

tone about the

"Egyptian Fantasy"

of

1941,

especially

after

the

loosely

swinging

second

theme is

introduced,

but the

piece

is

distinctive

for

its calm

atmosphere

and

Bechet's clarinet breaks.

Other

recordings

for

Victor,

made

in

1940

and

1941,

show that

Bechet did not

feel wedded to New

Orleans ensemble traditions.

In 1940 Bechet recorded Earl Hines's "Blues in Thirds," an

unorthodox blues

waltz,

with

Hines and

Baby

Dodds,

and

in 1941

he

made the

haunting

instrumental version of

"Strange

Fruit" with

Willie

the Lion

Smith.

For

Blue

Note,

Bechet made

in

1946

the

magnificent

two-clarinet version

of

"Weary

Way

Blues,"

which Be-

chet shares with Albert

Nicholas.

The

performances-there

are

two

takes-begin

with the

clarinets

playing

the

minimal

theme in

tight

harmony;

then

almost

miraculously,

they

peel

off from

one

another,

and

spend

the

rest

of

the time

weaving

in

and

out of

each

other's lines with insinuating grace.

In 1941

Bechet

created two

curiosities for

Victor

with his

re-

cordings

of

"Sheik of

Araby"

and

"Blues of

Bechet"

as a one-man

band.

Perhaps,

as Mezz Mezzrow

believed,

Bechet

despaired

of

finding

the

ideal

accompaniment

according

to New

Orleans tradi-

tions,

so he

decided to

provide

his

own

accompaniment,

playing

as

many

as six

instruments himself

through

an

early

use

of

overdub-

bing.

Later,

he

complained

that

the

sides

would

have

been

better

if

he

had been

able

to

rehearse more

with the

recording

engineer.

Mezzrow, a clarinetist himself, blamed the lack of good accom-

panists

on

a

world

insensitive to

artistry.

He

said that

these records

were

among

"the

greatest

New

Orleans

jazz

performances

ever

recorded,

with

a

perfect

blend

and

balance between

all six

pieces,

and

it had

to be

done

by

Bechet

single-handed."10

Some

of

the

Blue

Note

sessions

in

the

later

forties were

marred

by

a

trite

Dixieland

background-Bechet

employed

several

awful

drummers.

But

the

date in 1945

with New

Orleans oldtimer

Bunk

Johnson

(1879-1949)

was

memorable.

Johnson,

who

preceded

142


10/17

SIDNEY BECHET

Recording

Session of

the One-Man

Band,

1941.

All

photographs

of

Bechet

courtesy

of

the

Institute

of

Jazz

Studies,

Rutgers University.

143


11/17

144

THE BLACK PERSPECTIVE IN MUSIC

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porter ullman sidney bechet and his long song

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