("Kenny") Spearman Clarke Under Paris Skies

Transcription

("Kenny") Spearman Clarke Under Paris Skies
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CONVERSATION with
Kenneth ("Kenny") Spearman Clarke
Under Paris Skies
BY MICHAEL HAGGERTY
LATE LAST JANUARY, in the Paris suburb of
Montreuil-sous-Bois, the heart of one of American-music's
great innovators gave out. Stateside, Kenny Clarke's passing was remarked without fanfare-sans tambourni trompette,as the
French put it. From his adopted home in France during the past
three decades, Kenny Clarke had served as quiet sage, universally
respected patriach, and inspired mentor for both American expatriates and European musicians.
For the American jazz fan, much of Clarke's most important
recent music (for example, much of the Clarke-Boland Big Band
material) has remained just out of ear's reach. Less surprising
perhaps, his earlier seminal contributions to the making of modern
jazz have been eclipsed by the work of some of his contemporaries.
Clarke, after all, was running with a very fast crowd in the early
forties. "Klook's Clique" included: two of the most harmonically
advanced musicians of their time, Dizzy Gillispie and Charlie Christian; one of jazz's truly original composers, Thelonious Monk; and
one of the greatest melodic inventors and improvisational geniuses
of this century, Charlie Parker.
Born into a musical family in Pittsburg on 9 January 1914,
Kenneth Spearman Clarke studied piano, trombone, drums, bass,
vibes, and theory in high school. He began his professional career
in the early thirties with Leroy Bradley's band, worked
briefly with
Roy Eldridge, and then with the Jeter-Pillars Band in Saint Louis.
He made his recording debut in 1937 on drums, and later on vibes
with the Edgar Hayes Orchestra. During his first
European tour
the following year, Clarke cut his first sides as a leader in Sweden.
Back in the States, Clarke's pioneering rhythmic experiments
and unconventional accents ("dropping bombs") cost him several
jobs as a big-band drummer. Teddy Hill, one of Clarke's dissatisfied employers, described his new sound on the drums with
onomatopoeia, "klook a mop." This phrase later formed part of a
scat chorus in Dizzy Gillespie's 1946
recording, "Oop bop sh'bam,"
O
NE NIGHT,
196
THE BLACK PERSPECTIVE
IN MUSIC
KENNY CLARKE,courtesy Dan Morgenstern
KENNY CLARKE
197
and provided the nickname "Klook" that was used by most of
Clarke's friends. It was in Teddy Hill's band that Clarke and Gillespie met for the first time and began the experiments that would
lead to the bebop revolution.
The major revolutionary changes brought on by bebop, like so
many of the musical developments that preceded them, were collective endeavors. Many of the new ideas were worked out on the
bandstands of Harlem after-hours spots, such as Monroe's Uptown
Lounge and Minton's Playhouse. Invited by his former boss Teddy
Hill to become house drummer at Minton's, Kenny Clarke put
together a rhythm section including Monk on piano and Nick
Fenton on bass. Most of the great soloists of the early forties wanted
to try themselves out on that rhythm section, which oftentimes was
augmented by the brilliant guitar playing of Charlie Christian.
The harmonic developments brought on by bebop were essential to the evolution of modern jazz, but the changes in rhythm
were perhaps the most fundamental. Martin Williams puts it this
way:
The crucialthing about the bebop style is that its real basiscame from the
resources of jazz itself. And it came the way that innovation had come in
the past. That basisis rhythmicand it is based on rhythmicsubdivision ....
The rhythmic basis of ragtime is syncopated half-notes. In the New Orleans style, apparently syncopation gradually divided the pulse until it
became an even "four"in Armstrong'swork. The rhythmicbasis of bebop
is an eighth-note.1
Although Clarke maintained the traditional "even four," championed by the late master Jo Jones, he shifted steady time-keeping
to the top cymbal which allowed him to use the rest of his kitsnare, high hat and bass drum-for accents. As Ross Russell describes it:
The vibrationof the cymbal,once set in motion, is maintainedthroughout
the number, producing a shimmering texture of sound that supports,
agitatesand inspires the line men. This is the tonal fabricof bebopjazz.2
Russell also maintains that Clarke pioneered the basic instrumentation that became standard in modern jazz: two horns,
drums, bass, and piano. Although not usually thought of as a
composer, Clarke wrote a number of fine jazz tunes, including
"Strollin'," "Volcano," and "Wildman," and collaborated on such
bop classics as "Epistrophy" and "Salt Peanuts."
Clarke's recording career spanned nearly five decades. The list
of musicians with whom he worked reads like a Who's Who in jazz
for the last half-century. Fellow-expatriate, guitarist Jimmy Gourley called him the last great accompanist. Clarke's tasteful and
inspired playing always seemed to push the soloists further, and is
perhaps one of the reasons why he is the drummer on so many
sessions now considered classic.
198
THE BLACK PERSPECTIVE
IN MUSIC
Along with Gillispie and Parker, Klook unquestionably was one
of the founders of bop. With Dizzy-and later with Belgian pianist,
composer, and arranger Francy Boland-he anchored the rhythm
section of two of the hardest, swinging big bands of the modern
era. Clarke and Max Roach were the two drummers for the historic
"Birth of the Cool" sessions led by Miles Davis. Kenny also was a
founding member of the Modern Jazz Quartet in the early fifties,
and was perhaps the most sought-after studio musician in New
York throughout the mid-fifties and again in Paris in the late fifties
and early sixties.
Klook's pioneering rhythmic ideas directly or indirectly
influenced nearly every drummer that followed him. "Art Blakey
took the bop style from Kenny Clarke and reduced it to its irreducible essentials."3 Max Roach and, later, Elvin Jones and others
expanded on Clarke's innovations to create a powerful solo style
and mind-boggling poly-rhythms.
Besides his revolutionary contributions to America's original art
form, Kenny Clarke was one of the music's finest teachers and
spokesmen. Nathan Davis, multi-instrumentalist and professor of
music at the University of Pittsburg, speaks of Clarke in this way:
"He was one of the greatest human beings I ever met.... He was
not only an invaluable mentor musically, but he gave me an education in life."4
The following interview was conducted at Mr. Clarke's home in
Montreuil-sous-Bois on 26 August 1982. I was at the end of a year's
stay in Paris, where I had begun research on my Ph.D. dissertation,
"Syncopations: Studies in the Literary Reception of Jazz in France."
An important aspect of this work, sponsored by a French government grant, has involved oral history. I spent several months collecting personal testimonies from French poets, novelists, critics,
composers, collectors, and afficionados, as well as from expatriate
and French jazz musicians. Having written Mr. Clarke to request an
interview, I phoned him to try to set up a meeting. He hesitated. I
insisted, knowing that he was a central figure on the French jazz
scene and that his keen perception would be an invaluable addition
to my research.
Finally having agreed on place and time, I approached our
meeting with the excitement and nervous anticipation of someone
meeting one of his heroes. In my mind Clarke loomed not only as a
master musician and living legend but also as a man whom jazzcritic Stanley Crouch had named successor to the late Andre Malraux as the greatest thinker left in France. After the subway trip to
the Mairie de Montreuil, I stopped in a French patisserie for a cake
and caught a cab up the hill in search of Mr. Clarke's suburban
pavillion. My shaky departure from the cab loaded down with the
gift and gear (tape deck, microphones, notes, and paper) left the
cake in the gutter. I quickly overcame my embarassment, thanks to
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KENNY CLARKE
Mr. Clarke's warm and friendly reception. Our conversation was
relaxed and frank, oftentimes accented by Klook's easy laugh.
Since the interview was conducted as part of research for my
dissertation, the discussion focused largely on Clarke's expatriate
experience during the last thirty years, as well as his trips to Europe
before and during World War II and his extended visits to Paris in
the late forties and early fifties. Besides serving as an addendum to
the dissertation, excerpts from the interview were used during a
five-day (123 hour) radio tribute to Mr. Clarke broadcast by WHRB
radio in Cambridge, Massachusetts, 12-17 May 1985. A transcription of the interview also forms the first part of a book entitled A
Flower For Kenny, which was privately printed and offered to
WHRB listeners. A discography covering five decades of Kenny
Clarke's brilliant and prolific recording career forms the second
part of the book.
*
*
*
*
*
Michael Haggerty: Why France?
Kenny Clarke: The French have always felt that jazz was an
extension of their culture. It goes back to New Orleans, and to the
Creoles, and the Cajuns; they speak French all the time. It seems
that they stammer more in English than they do in French. It's a
kind of old French; it goes back, I guess, to the seventeenth century. They feel they belong to France as [do the] Normans and
Britons. All those people came from different parts of France and
still stick to their old traditions. That's why when you have Dixieland or New Orleans jazz, which most of the Creoles were playing
at the time, they use a sort of a French attack. It was very easy for
the French to understand the music.
And then the Africans began to play it and made certain
changes that were very good but difficult to understand at the
time-you know, like King Oliver, Louis Armstrong, Sidney Bechet, Albert Nichols. All those guys got a hold of it; they turned it
around in their fashion, and it lost all the French flavor. Jelly Roll
Morton and others were playing French rondos, like Bach or
Beethoven, [with] that classical attack, which didn't appeal much to
the Africans, so they changed it around to their way. And that's the
way we play it today. But the French still feel attached to it, because
they had something to do with the making of the music.
Jelly Roll Morton, of course, claims that "TigerRag" comesfrom the
French "Praline."
Maybe it did.
200
THE BLACK PERSPECTIVE IN MUSIC
You know the bassplayer Guy Pedersen?He tells a storythat his great
uncle or his grandfathercomposed"Praline."Somepeople also claim that
the word'jazz" has a Frenchflavor,from 'jazzer,"whichmeansto talk or to
rap. From about 1918, things were starting here in Paris, with Louis
Mitchelland others.It was differentfromwhat was happeningin the States.
It was jazz, French style, which wasn't bad. After the war, there
were Sidney Bechet and Jim Europe, people like that, who came
over. That was really the first jazz. That was a modern jazz for the
time. After them, then, came Duke [Ellington] and Louis
Armstrong and the more modern players.
So your way had beenpaved a bit whenyou got herefor thefirst timein
'37. You'vesaid thatyoufelt rightfrom that momentthat Paris might be a
place you would want to stay. But you went backto the States becausethere
was thatfeeling in the air that the war was coming on.
Yeah, I went back.
And everyoneis so happy that you did.
(Laughs.) I was invited to Zurich-well, first I was invited to stay
in Holland and play with Coleman Hawkins. Somebody in the band
said, "Oh, you can't do that, desert us. We have more concerts to
play and all that." So I said, "When the tour's over I can make it
back," but I was talked out of that by the fellows in the band.
Then I was offered ajob in Zurich. They said, "Come to Zurich.
Everything's O.K. There's no war and none of this and that." But I
didn't feel, you know-with the the three races there, it kinda upset
me. There were some Germans who couldn't speak French, some
French who couldn't speak German, some Italians who couldn't
speak either one. It was kind of a mixed-up thing; I didn't like that
too much. Well, some of the guys stayed. One of the tenor
saxophonists stayed for years. I can't think of his name, but he
stayed in Switzerland until way after the war. When I came back he
was still there.
Somepeople had it prettyrough. ArthurBriggs stayedin Paris during
the war, and he ended up in a camp.
Yeah. Well, Arthur, he's still around. He's still kicking.
He's working on his memoirs.
He's been doing a lot of teaching too.
You'restill teaching as well?
No, I stopped.
But you taught in Paris for a number of years.
Well, let's see. I was at the Conservatoire Saint-Germain-enLayes from about 1967. I taught there about five years.
So you went back to the States, and the story'sprettywell knownfrom
there 1941 at Minton's with [Thelonious]Monk. But it's worth talking
about.
(Laughs.) Well, that was just before my army days. Teddy [Hill]
asked me to put a band together. So Monk was always around,
playing gigs with me. And there was Nick Fenton, and Joe Guy was
KENNY CLARKE
201
a pal. So I got all my buddies together, and I said, "We start at
Minton's tomorrow night." It was just a gig for us. With Monk's
style of playing and my style, it made a good rhythm section. And
that was the base of the whole thing.
All the soloists wanted to try themselvesout on that rhythmsection.
Right!
So you got called awayfrom Minton's by the army,and whenyou were
in the militaryorchestrayou played trombone.Youdidn'tplay drumsat all?
No, I decided to play trombone because in the army good
drums are very hard to find. Also, [there was] the difficulty in
getting them from place to place. Sometimes they'd say, "We already have drums," and when I'd arrive the drums would be
horrible. So I didn't enjoy playing drums in the army. Anyway, I
decided to play the trombone.
So whenyou arrivedin Paris and playedat the Theatrede la Madeleine
in 1944, you wereon trombone.It was moreof a traditional-styleorchestra.
Well, more of a Kansas City style orchestra than the
traditional-style jazz that was going on at the moment.
Were all of the musicians who played at the Madeleine American
soldiers?
Yeah, they were all in my outfit. I got together an all-boys choir,
the band, and some individual singers, and we made a show. It was
very good.
You'verecalledthatat that timeyou spokewith GertrudeStein and Alice
Toklas. They were at the concertand approachedyou? I guess the music
moved them?
Evidently, because they said, "How do you find time to do all
these things while the war is going on? How do you find time to
make music?" I told them that we just take time out in our leisure
time. Instead of chasing around and looking at the beauty of the
cities, we rehearse. She said, "Oh, that's marvelous." So I told her
that we would find time to see Paris and its beauty after the war. We
really didn't have time to see any sights, because things were in such
a turmoil. With the re-organization and all that going on, it was
kinda hard to tour around and see the city.
Well, Paris was liberatedin August of '44, so you werehere [thatis, in
Paris] in the Fall?
Yeah, we came in October and we stayed until February [1945].
Then we went to Germany.
At that time you met CharlesDelaunay?
Yeah, I met him here in Paris. He was chief of the Hot Club in
Paris. He was the one who sponsored the concert, who made it
possible.
So you went backto New Yorkin January of 1946, and Delaunay came
over in Septemberof that same year?
Yeah, and we made the first bebop records for Swing.
Yourecorded"52nd StreetTheme,""Epistrophy,"
and somethingcalled
202
THE BLACK PERSPECTIVE
IN MUSIC
"Rue Chaptal"?
That was something we composed to honor the Hot Club because it was located on Rue Chaptal.
It still is. When you returned,Dizzy started toform his big band?
Yeah, in the latter part of '46, and we started rehearsing the big
band with Diz in May. As a matter of fact, I met James Moody at
Fort Dix... being processed for discharge.... I used to go over to
the barracks where he and Joe Gales were; they would be jammin'
in there, and I said, "Wow, what a saxophone player." So when I
arrived at [Dizzy's] rehearsal, there he was sitting up there. I didn't
even know he knew Diz....
That was quite a reunion there
(laughs). James Moody, he's fabulous. He was here not too long
ago; he stayed a week or so at the Jazz Unite. I guess I went to see
him three or four times during the week.
That was a great club, Jazz Unite. It's too bad it closed.
Yeah, it was something, but it was a little too far for the Parisians. You had to have your own car in order to get back at night.
Well, anyway,so you startedrehearsingwith Dizzy in May of '46 and
the band came to Europe in '48. You were in Paris at the Salle Pleyel in
Februaryof '48. Lots of Parisians, French musicians, said that that's the
concertthat markedtheirlives,you know, that turnedeverythingaroundfor
them. A lot of them, I think, decided to becomejazz musicians becauseof
that. That was a big moment,I guess.
Yeah, it was. They couldn't believe it. They said, "No, that's not
possible!" (Laughs.) Well, we had Chano Pozo wiith us too. We had
integrated a little Cuban rhythm. It was fabulous. It was a really
fantastic concert. A little before arriving in Paris we lost track of the
music; it was supposed to be on the same train we were on, but it
was on a different train. So when we arrived we had no music.
So, it was always Dizzy's determination, his idea, to play the
same music every concert, the same thing. Because, he said, "When
you move from town to town, who knows the difference? Nobody
but you, you know." So, it turned out to be a marvelous idea
because when we arrived in Paris, Dizzy was running around saying, "Oh, my God! What are we gonna do now?" So Benny Bailey
says, "No trouble! We just hit!" (Laughs.) You know? We've been
playing the same music for a month already now! We know it, you
know, ass backwards! (Laughs.) So that's what made it fantastic. We
played without music stands. Everybody stood up.
Withoutscores?
And that's what they couldn't understand. How did they do that
without music?
So, actually, it workedout well thatyou wereplaying thesamerepertoire
at each concert.
Yeah, it was a marvelous, marvelous idea! That's Dizzy's way of
doing things, which I think is fantastic. It proved to be the most
fantastic thing that I've ever witnessed-you
know, playing the
KENNY CLARKE
203
same music every night. I had never done that. And, the more we
played it, the better it became! (Laughs.) I said, "Wow! This is a
fantastic idea!" All the other musicians fell right in; they thought it
was fantastic, too.
So Paris at the time was a prettyexcitingscenefor jazz. Therewere big
crowdsat that time,I guess, kind of the beginningof thereal bigjazz scene.
Yeah.
You workedat the Club Saint Germainat that time. Wasn'tthat in '48?
With Boris Vian?
Yeah, yeah, with Boris Vian and his little group.
So Boris Vian was playing more or less Dixieland style at that time?
Yeah, yeah, yeah. But he tried to put a little modern touch here
and there, you know, to make me happy. (Laughs.) It was nice. I
didn't care so much about Dixieland, because I could play that
anyway.
So, how long did you stay at that time?
Well, I stayed-after we finished our tour in March-I stayed
until the first of September, you know, just hanging around, enjoying. I spent the summer here, when all the Parisians go on vacation.
So it seemed that I had Paris all to myself. (Laughs.) Quite a few
friends stayed along with me, and that was the most memorable
summer I've ever spent in Paris. It was really fantastic.
John Lewis stayed with me. He was studying piano with one of
the band leaders I was working with, Tony Proteau, and he was
studying with Tony's mother, who was a great classical pianist.
Tony had a big band, and I joined Tony's band; played some of the
chic places in Paris. So I stayed with his band-oh, my God-for
most of the time I stayed over. That's where I met a lot of musicians
who were really interested in jazz. And some, 'til today, some of
them I'm still playing with, you know, now and then-like Roger
Guerin, I'm gonna play with him tomorrow.
Where are you playing tomorrow?
Ajacio, Corsica.
Oh, you'releavingfor Corsica!Yeah,I heardRoger has a big band that
he's working with.
Yeah. Very, very nice. He does it just for the love of jazz.
Right. He's a good trumpetplayer, though.
Oh, yeah. He's a fantastic trumpet player. Yeah, just playing for
kicks, yeah-'Cause they're all insurance agents, automobile salesmen, engineers, doctors. (Laughs.) They do it for fun, really.
Was that when you met Andre Hodeir?
Oh, yeah. I met Hodeir in '44, '45.
He was playing violin?
Yeah, violin, piano. First prize in harmony, first prize violin,
first prize piano. Yeah, he was quite, quite something. When I
arrived in Paris he got first prize at the Conservatory in everything.
(Laughs.) And everyone thought, "Oh, wow, what a musician he
MODERNJAZZ QUARTET, courtesy the Jazz Institut
KENNY CLARKE
205
is!" Well, he still is. Great musician! And we got together and wrote
a couple of tunes together and things like that. I used to see quite a
bit of him then. He'd just come out of school and was looking
around to see what was going on, you know. I guess he thought he
would be a classical musician until he started hanging around the
Hot Club, and (laughs) he changed his mind.
And he stayed with it pretty much, too.
Oh, yeah. He's written quite a few books about it. Yeah, he's
quite an enthusiast.
And so you stayed until then and went back to the States in '48?
Yeah, I went back in September of'48. Then I came back in,
let's see, when was it now? In '49, yeah.
That's when you had the Frisco band at that time.
Yeah, yeah. Right.
It was kind of a short-livedclub, the Frisco Club, at the bottomof the
Rue des Martyrs.
Right, right. What a good band that was. Wow! Think about it.
Who was in that band?
There was Hubert Fol, Don Byas, James Moody, Bill Coleman,
Pierre Michelot, a pianist-what was the pianist's name? JeanMarie? Nice young pianist....
I can't think of the pianist's
name.... And that was our little band. We had Annie Ross singing.
But then, you played in that clubfor a short time, and then the club
folded?
Yeah, yeah. He [the owner] had trouble with the syndicate. So,
he closed and I went back home. No, I went with Bernard Hilda for
the summer of that year-1950. 1949, 1950? I went to Belgium
with Bernard Hilda's big band, stayed and recorded. I went back to
the States in April '51. I went home, and there I stayed five years.
Part of the time with the ModernJazz Quartet?
Yeah, we formed the Modern Jazz Quartet. There was a lot to
do at that time, seeing that five years just went by so swiftly, you
know. And we did so many things! It was amazing, the things we
did, and the records we made during those five years.
Well, that whole period is, if you look back on it, one of the richest
periods of jazz.
Yeah.
There were so many musicians,so many differentthings happening, so
much recording.
Quite a few clubs to play in. It was a really fantastic era. I was
playing at Basin Street with Phineas Newborn and Oscar Pettiford.
And Michel Legrand came over to America with Maurice Chevalier
to do a television spectacle. I was home; I turned the television on,
and I saw Michel directing the band with his back turned, and I
said to myself, "I know him." When he turned around, I said, "It's
Michel!" So right away I telephoned CBS, got him on the phone,
and told him where I was working. He came down that night, and
206
THE BLACK PERSPECTIVE
IN MUSIC
he offered me the job in Paris. "Would you like to come back to
Paris? My uncle just formed a real jazz band, a real jazz band!"
(Laughs.) "Okay, I'll take the chance!"
That was with Jacques Helian?
He was Michel's uncle .... Everything was so beautiful with that
band, unbelievable. So, I came, let's see, in September '56.
And, one thing I wanted to ask you about was in '57, I guess. Miles
came over, right? You did the film for Louis Malle, Ascenseur pour
l'echafaud. So could you tell me a little somethingabout that recording
session? Whenyou see thefilm, andJeanne Moreau is walking throughthe
rain, with that music, you know. To me, it's very beautiful ... that music
workedvery well with thatfilm; you knew what was happening.
Yeah. Miles composed the music while they were showing the
film. That was fabulous. He said, "Wait a minute, right here! Stop!
Right here." And he'd say, "We play this and this right here," 'cause
this seemed to go with this scene, and it was really well-thought-out.
We did the music to the film right then and there. And, with some
wonderful musicians-Pierre Michelot on bass.
Was it Rene Urtregger on piano?
Yeah.
And Louis Malle was really enthusiastic.He let it happen?
Yeah. Whatever Miles thought, you know, it was O.K. (Laughs.)
Okay with him.
Yeah. So it turned out beautiful. Miles really put it together
wonderfully. And, I mean, it all happened on the spur of the
moment, you know. After about three hours, it was over. He
composed the music. [After that] a lot of film producers started
putting music to films in that manner. But they didn't have many
Miles Davis's, so-. (Laughs.)
That'sright. Well,for theFrench at that timejazz musicfor films really
took off.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
Because VadimbroughtMonkoverfor Les Liaisons dangeureusess.
Well, the funny thing was, I had made the music for that
already, Les Liaisons dangeureuses.. And one of Roger Vadim's henchman who wanted to come to the States said, "Why don't we have
Monk do the music?" And Roger said, "Well, the music is done
already and its beautiful." But [the henchman] kept talking, "Oh,
but we should put an American in, we could sell the records, do
this, and-." So he had Monk dub the music on top of what we're
doing. And in the film, where I'm doing a drum solo, you don't
hear the drum solo. You know, things like that.
Well, Vadim got rid of him right away after he saw the film. He
said, "Oh, my God!" But they had paid out so much money for
Monk and everything, he let the film stay as it was and made a
record of Monk's music. We had done the music with Kenny
Dorham and Barney Wilen and myself and Paul Rovere on bass.
KENNY CLARKE
207
Oh, we had a good band together. Duke Jordan. Oh, it was fantastic.
Vadim loved it. He said, "Oh, they're so great." Then he let this guy
talk him into recording Monk for the film. I told Roger, "How can
you do that? Our music is synchronized with the picture. How are
you donna do that?" He said, "I don't know, this guy has an idea."
Turns out, now, this same guy is selling records at the Lido
Musique. So that's how he turned out. (Laughs.) His first idea was a
bomb, and so I said, "Well, if he goes through this profession with
ideas like that, he's not gonna last." He didn't. After that, Vadim
fired him, and that was it.
And Boris Vian had a little role in that film, too?
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I made the last record Boris [Vian] did with
Andre Hodeir, and it won the Charles Cros Academy Award.
What record was that?
It was Andre Hodeir's arrangements of music by Monk, Tadd
Dameron, all the young composers. He arranged this music so
beautiful, man. It was wonderful. That was about the last record
Boris did before he died. He became artist-in-repertoire for Columbia Records. Seems those guys always wanted to do something
for me, you know. "Come up here, I want you to do this, I want you
to do that." It was really, really fun.
At that time you were in the studios everyday,just aboutExactly. (Laughs.)
Everbodywas calling on you.
Yeah, then Quincy [ones] came over, and that was every day
too.
And Quincy, I guess, did the thing with the Double Six at that timeabout 1959-60.
Uh, yeah, yeah.
Their first album. You were on that first album, right?
Yeah, yeah. Right. Then we did another one with Dizzy and
Bud Powell.
That was in '63 or so, right?
Yeah, right. That was fantastic.
That's a great record.
Oh, I like that one. I can't understand why I don't have those
records. (Laughs.)
You don't have them?
I don't understand why, you know? Someone gives me a couple,
"Here's a couple." Next thing you know I'm giving them to somebody, you know. "Oh, what a great record, I've got to have it." Well,
I say, "Take it." That's why I have no records! (Laughs.)
Thoseare comingout again. I guess two of themare alreadybackout, so
you can get them. Mimi Perrin is putting those backout. She can probably
get you a copy.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Probably she can.
The recordwithDizzy is backout on Philips, and the othertwo are being
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published by the Centre d'InformationMusicale, CIM.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
I thinkit's called Open Recordsor somethinglike that. Theyput out one
already, and the one with QuincyJones is coming out, I think, thisfall.
Good. So they'll be available soon.
Right. And then you did a tour at that time, too, withJ. J. Johnson,
right, andYeah. That was called the Charlie Parker Memorial, I think.
It had Lee Konitz.
Yeah. Well, that was jazz at Carnegie Hall. We had Jay
[ohnson] and Kai [Winding], Lee Konitz, Zoot Sims, Phineas
Newborn, Oscar Pettiford. And we had Red Garland. That was
something really fabulous. Wow! I wonder why don't things like
that happen today? You know, you can't understand it. At that
time, there was so little money, it was just the joy of playing with
each other, you know. Now, today, there's a lot of money, and no
one wants to play. "Oh, man. It doesn't pay enough." But in those
days, they didn't ask, you know, for money. It was just, "Who we
gonna be with?" You know. (Laughs.) And that was really fabulous.
So that was a tour throughoutEurope.
Yeah, we went all the way from London to Sweden and back.
Jazz was pretty much at the height of its popularity at that time.
Oh, yeah. I think it was. We used to play in parks in Swedenballparks, you know, like the pop musicians do today. That's what
we were doing in those days. In Sweden, you know-so many
people, I couldn't believe it. A mass of people! I said, "Wow, jazz is
looking up!" (Laughs.)
And then, I guess, at that point, or afterwards,you came backto Paris
and set up shop at the Blue Note, right? You were the house drummerYeah, seven years.
What was it, '59 to about '66?
Yeah, right. Exactly.
That's about the time when the thing with Francy Boland got off the
ground.
Yeah, right.
Was it '59 or '60 you started there?
'59. We started a quartet-piano, bass, tenor sax, drums.
With Don Byas, right?
And Don, yeah. And then it just grew and grew. Until we
wound up with eight, good studio musicians who were really jazz
enthusiasts. We called it the Golden Eight. It was Clarke, Boland,
and Company-the Golden Eight. That was really a fabulous record.
And about what time was that recording made?
About '61.
Now, all these recordsare completelyout of print, right?
Well, they're MPS Records from Germany, so they didn't have
KENNY CLARKE
209
quite as good a distribution in the United States. Because I know we
made about thirty-two albums with the band in eleven years. People
said, "I heard one," and somebody else said, "I heard another one.
Where do you buy them?" you know. So this was a matter of
distribution.
It's been a problemin jazz for a long time-getting the recordinto the
recordshop.It's somethingthat'sheld up a lot of peopleand a lot of things.
Oh, what a great band! But those people were very far and few.
People who do get a hold of those records, keep them. You come to
their home, and maybe they might play them for you, but that's
about it.
Right. They'renot the kind of recordsthat show up in any used-record
bin. You won'tfind them around like that.
No, because those records are a real rarity in America. Atlantic
put out one,Jazz Is Universal, but I don't know how long it stayed in
print.
That was, of course,one of thegreatestbig bandsin the historyofjazz in
my opinion and, I think, in the opinion of a lot of otherpeople, too.
Mine, too. So many stars, so many perfect musicians.
But I mean it's kind of taken on a legendarystatus, becausethe actual
musicalhistoryis not available to a lot of people. So hopefullysomebodywill
get the idea to put thosebackin print. So at that time,you were doing that
band, but that couldn'thave been a full-time job. You kept the Blue Note,
too.
Yeah, I kept the Blue Note, you know, for connections, because
a lot of universities and conservatories would write and would like
to have some jazz at their establishments, so they could always
contract me at the Blue Note. So I got a lot of jobs. It was like an
office for me, you know. All the time I worked with the big band, I
would put someone in my place and tell them the date I'd be back;
sometimes I would be gone two weeks, three weeks. But they knew
I'd always be back. So I kept the two [jobs] together during that
whole period-from '59 until about 1971, when we stopped the big
band. That was about eleven years.
And at that time, too, you've mentionedthat was when rock and roll
started to make its in-roads. What the French call musique ye-ye.
Ye-ye. Right, right.
That was the beginning of some difficult timesfor jazz, I'd say. Of
coursetherewas so manychangesgoing down in jazz with OrnetteColeman
and free jazz. Things were kind of breaking apart at the seams.
Yeah, jazz took a horrible beating. I was just listening to Benny
Goodman last night on television. Wonderful, wonderful concert.
Why can't people get hip and realize where the real thing is?
Running around and screaming and hollering; I guess it's something the youth have on their chests, and they're trying to throw it
off. Not really earnestly, but they know something's wrong, and
they're trying to unchain themselves. I think that's what it is.
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I thinkit's morecomplicatedthan what meetsthe surface. It's notjust a
musical phenomenon;it's a whole other thing.
No, no. There's a whole lot of things attached to it. You know,
like, Mick Jagger and all those guys. I talked with all of them to get
their views and what they think.
The drummertherefor MickJagger, he knowsa lot aboutjazz. Charlie
Watts-he's a jazz fan.
(Laughs.) Yeah.
But that money'scoming inThat's what Mick Jagger always says. He says, "I envy you guys,
but we make the money."
I mean, he makesso much moneynow, he should be able to do whatever
he wants to do musically.
Right, right. A few years ago, in Holland, he told me this, but I
think the way that they put it together was novel, you know: lead
singer, lead guitar, you know. The run-down was very interesting.
It interested me for a long time. You know a lot of people who
know nothing about jazz ask me for interviews. They want an
interview-and, my God-it's difficult for me to tell them what I
think. What I would like to tell them is to get the hell out of here.
But when someone knows something about what's happening, you
know, you can talk for hours.... You're telling me things, even
that I've half-way forgotten. So they come in, inspire me to talk
more, you know.
From the sixties on, you had to pretty much makeyour living in the
studios, I assume, right?
Yeah, yeah.
Because you've had a lot of recording in the last twentyyears.
Well, with the Barclay Company, first we had Pete Rugolo. He
stayed for a while, but then Hollywood kept calling him back,
"Come on, man what are you doing in France and all? You're
missing all the bread here in America." So Pete just said one day,
"Well, fellows, I give up." He went back, and we got Quincy Jones]
in his place. Quincy stayed about four years. And all those four
years, I was recording almost every day. Every day! I couldn't
believe it! (Laughs.)
You know, one day I went to the first Cannes festival, in 1958,
and I had to miss a date with Quincy. The band was recording the
day that I would be gone. Boy, you would think that the world had
come to an end. He [Quincy:;05 said, "Man, what have you got to
do?" So, I put Kansas Fields in my place, who was a very good
drummer, and he could read very good and he had good conception. When I got back, he told me "Yeah, you were right, you were
right, you know." So after Quincy left, Jimmy Mundy came. I guess
I was recording with him every day. He was a wonderful cat to
record with-Jesus Christ. I guess Quincy was the most interesting,
you know, because I had known some of Jimmy Mundy's music,
KENNY CLARKE
211
played with Basie, but Quincy's music was different.
He was a big catalystin Paris, too, I think.He got things going, he got
behinda lot of things. I thinkhe was importantbehindthe scenesmorethan
people have said.
Right, right. Exactly. Well, we did a hit record over here with
Sarah Vaughan, and one for another big singer-one other big,
Las Vegas singer. We did a hit record for him ... a very popular
singer. They were having some record trouble in the States at that
time-you know, strikes. And so most of the Americans were coming over to France. They were recording, which was very nice, you
know.
Kept everybodybusy.
Yeah, it kept all the French musicians busy! We did a hit record
for Sarah Vaughan-"Misty." When she had finished singing, all
the opera violinists stood up and applauded. I had never seen or
heard anything like that in my life. They just stood up ... when she
finished.... Oh, it was so beautiful. (Laughs.) She just bowed and
backed right out. That was fabulous. I've never seen that before or
after for any singer. You know, she likes to sing direct-not like
that after-dubbing and things; she doesn't like that. And it was so
perfect, you know. Wow!
She [has] had very good experience in singing like that,
making
records. I recorded a lot with Sarah in the States, and everything
was direct. She never liked it redubbed. Well, I guess now that's the
mode of things in the States now. The band plays the music, and
then the singer comes in later. (Laughs.) Dubs in the words.
It's made certain things possible, but a lot gets lost, too.
Yeah, it takes the feeling out, you know.... We did a big thing
for Jack Jones] with Michel Legrand, a big record
thing. So he just
gets right up there and says, "Listen Michel, it's gotta be direct,
man. I want to hear you cats around me."-which is wonderful.
And then, as proof, the date turned out to be fabulous. He could
never have dubbed his voice in like that, because he hears different
instruments, and he articulates and improvises with the musicians.
That's fabulous.
That's what it's all about.
Yeah, that's what it is. Really. He said, "No, none of that redubbing shit. I'm gonna do it direct."
So you're not playing live too much anymore.I haven'tseen that
you've
been playing in Paris this past year. A little bit this year, but not much,
right?
Yeah, a little bit. They closed down one of the clubs that we
frequented quite a bit, Le Dreher. The neighbors started squawking. So we got by with it for a while, but I knew it couldn't last.
Of course,I think, too, thefact that a lot ofjazzmen went backto school
has helped to bring things back. In other words, Max Roach and Archie
Shepp, and all of those people who have gone to school-they've
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taught people my age. The teacherscame back,and that broughtup a new
generation of people who were a little bit informedabout the music. So I
think that's done a lot of good.
Yeah, it's a bit of Americanism that's lasted sixty or seventy
years, you know, all over the world. I get letters from people in
Bangkok wanting to know about this record or that record. You
know-"I play with a little band, and we play this and we play that,
and I'd like to have this record so we can get an idea of how this
goes." So there's quite a bit of enthusiasm all over the world.
Yes,that'swhat'sincredible.That music whichwas given as a gift to the
whole world.
That's right, that's right.... They play [it] all over. You know, I
remember when I was a soldier and went up as far as the Siegfried
Line. I passed the French line, I forget what they called it [a
reference to the Maginot Line], but that was impenetrable, they
thought. So we went up to the Siegfried Line. It was very complicated, with barriers, but we got in and went in the bunkers, and
what did I find there-Count Basie, Benny Goodman records.
(Laughs.) I was amazed ... those wind-up players, but they had the
records.
They had the music there. That's incredible.
You know that! The French weren't allowed to play jazz, but the
German officers, they could play anything they had.
Yeah, that's right. Delaunay tells about a German officer who was
bringingjazz recordsinto Paris when Paris was occupied.A man named
Schumacheror somethinglike that.
Yeah, yeah. (Laughs.)
They said that when they'dbe playing music, they'dhave the German
officers come and-they were doing it clandestinely.But, of course, the
German cats were still into the music.
Oh yeah, they were deep into it-deeper than the French were
at that time. Because in '37, when we went to
Europe, we played in
Bremen, Frankfurt, and those people were more enthusiastic than
the rest of Europe up that way. Wow, they were fantastic. And the
Swedes were very involved.
Copenhagenbecamea bigjazz scene after the war, too. Dexter [Gordon]
lived therefor a long time.
But at the time, when we came through, the interest was in
Sweden and Germany. There's where the real jazz could be heard.
Denmark hadn't really got off the ground yet, or Holland,
you
know. Belgium was fantastic. But with the
teaching here, there was
an exchange between the conservatory and the
private school. One
from the conservatory would come to the private school, and then
one from the private school would go to the
conservatory. So we're
counting them out, and we had 160 students. What was so tiring
was a pupil coming to you who had never had a
pair of drum sticks
in his hands before. That takes some real work.
KENNY CLARKE
213
Right. At what age did they come?
Oh, seven, eight years old. But then after a few years, I stopped
that and let the best students teach the beginners. I went on to
teach the more advanced students. It was a lot of fun, but it was
work though. It's hard work, but you enjoy it. And when a student
is good, you have a tendency to spend more time with him than the
others. So you have to be very careful of things like that.
And, of course,you want to give the ones whoshowthemostpotential the
opportunityto take off.
That's very dangerous for the other students; they don't think
its fair. There's a lot to be said about French audiences-you know,
how they received jazz. After the Dizzy Gillespie concert everything
was quite easy. Everyone seemed to have a basic understanding of
what to expect. And that wouldn't be any good, because they would
choose a different soloist that they would like to hear. That was
strange to me, you know. I said, "Well, you like to hear Miles, Stan
Getz, Sonny Stitt." They would just choose their soloist like that,
and I said, "Why him?" They say, "Well, he has a style you can kind
of identify with." They were probably right. But they wouldn't pick
just any soloist, ::04only] the good ones.
But the last time Miles came over he kind of let 'em down. That
hurt me to my heart. You know, he wasn't the Miles who made
L'Ascenseurpour l'echafaud. He wasn't that same Miles. They were
kind of let down with him. Yeah, well, the last concert he did here,
he let everyone down.
Did you sec Miles when he was here that time?
No, I didn't see him. I'll tell you the truth; I didn't want to be let
down too-because my conception of Miles is something fantastic. I
guess it's like seeing someone make a 360-degree change, you
know-circle around all the way over and try to come back again
but not quite make it. So I thought it would be best for me not to
listen to him, because he wouldn't be the inventive Miles like the
records he made in the fifties. I knew it wouldn't be
anything like
that. You know, I felt it rather a shame that he couldn't have done
like Diz or any of the young trumpet players who came
up during
the time-adhere to what they're really doing meaningfully,
really.
It lasted a while, then it faded away in Miles. He couldn't
keep
it, grasp it, and hold it-you know, like Diz. I think that if you hear
Diz today, and you heard him twenty years
ago, you can still hear it.
Some of the things that you like the best that he does, he still does,
which is great. Miles just seemed to fade
right out. Maybe it's his
health or-I don't know. But that gets me, you know; he became so
big and he had to get that money that was dripping back.
Of course, it was kind of weird the way that they did thatfestival in
Paris when Miles came. Theyput up all of the
moneyfor Miles, ratherthan
spreading it around a bit and bringing a number of good people.
Good people, yeah.
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IN MUSIC
I'm not going to say anything against Miles, but I would have liked to
have seen some of that moneygo around to get a numberof differentpeople.
But they wanted the big name.
Big disappointment.
A Miles comeback.
And Miles never made it back. That was a big disappointment. I
was thinking about when he was a young kid, and he was so
enthusiastic about his music. He really had a strong interest. The
first Paris festival, he came. He was something unbelievable. Really,
to hear him today you wouldn't believe it. You'd think it was two
different people.
That'sthe time thatyou played with Miles and Tadd Dameron-at that
festival, right? And I guess James Moodywas with you then, too. Right?
Yeah.
And there was an album made of that concert on Columbia.
Yeah, it was really Miles, young Miles. He was very young at
that time. He was about twenty-two, twenty-three?
That was a great group thatyou had. Tadd Dameronwas playing some
really interestingnew compositions.
Yeah, there was great jazz in Paris. And I still believe it's going
to happen again. I don't know why, but that's my contention.
Someday soon we're going to have some really good jazz. I heard
Benny Goodman yesterday, and he really surprised me. It was so
perfect, the way he was playing.... I can't express it. But I enjoyed
it. And the musicians with him were wonderful. Fantastic!
Yeah, well all those young kids, they were going to school,
studying music. Miles, he was at Juilliard. John Lewis was at the
New York School of Music. Max Roach. Everybody seemed to be in
school. When they came out, they had a better idea of how to put
things together. I guess that's what you learn in school, you
attitude, harmony, how to put things toknow-organizational
gether, how to organize. That's what school is all about.
Giving somebodythe tools to put togethera form that's advanced and
well organized. You'vegot to have the tools.
Yeah, right. (Laughs.) I used to have quite a few "premier prix"
in percussion come out of the Conservatoire Superieure. They
would come out of school and come to the Blue Note and say,
"Hey, Kenny, what's that peddle board you play? What are you
doing there?" And the next thing you know, he's playing drums.
He's still a good percussionist, which is great. Some of them play
good piano. They play all the tympani, the xylophone. And then
they want to come out and play "variety," but they turn out to be
all-around good drummers. The way to get out there is to learn to
play "variety." In school they had no bass drum or high hat cymbal
.... so that's the first thing they ask you, "What kind of peddle
should I buy? How do you use it?" So I started a school. "Come to
school and we'll teach you." So you'd be teaching a "premier prix"
KENNY CLARKE
215
percussionist how to play drums. (Laughs.) It's amazing.
Of course,that'swhatjazz has broughtto Europeanmusic,a new way of
seeing rhythm,which was ignoredfor centuries.Beginning with ragtime,
there was a new awareness of rhythm.
Right. They always say, "Well, the harmony thing, we got that
down. Don't worry about that. What we want to learn now is
rhythm, syncopation." But it's very hard to get a French band to
play the last half of the fourth beat. We couldn't get 'em to do it to
save their lives. I couldn't understand whether it was matter of
training or what. Then after a while all the musicians started
writing that way and they caught it. I knew they would. It's simple,
you know, but it's like a catapult: "BAH-da-ba-da." I guess the first
lesson I gave them was in syncopation.
It's funny, out at the Conservatory in Saint-Germaine, the
young drummers were learning syncopation and reading and playing. And the director came down and he says, "Oh, this is wonderful. I'm going to have all the violin players and cello players and
everybody come down to your class." And he did. So I had pianists,
violinists, everybody learning syncopation. It's unnerving to have a
director who really knows how, and the band doesn't really know
how to do it. You wonder, "How can I explain this?"
Sometimesit takes a whole other approach.
Right-a whole other approach to get it across. Paris is like a
home away from home for a lot of people. You need that; it's really
necessary. All the artists and musicians knew that years ago, like
Hemingway. Change the air. They were great at doing that.
Change the surroundings, and you get new ideas.
Paris is good for that.
Yeah, you can go from one quartier to the other, and there's
something different happening.
Paris is like a whole series of little villages.
Right, exactly. Every quartierhas its own way of doing things, its
own life, its spirit. I used to like Saint-Germain a lot. I lived there a
lot when I first came. You get to know the merchants and people. It
didn't seem like your day was complete until you made your
rounds. Out here [that is, in Montreuil-sous-bois], we got to know
quite a few people, everybody in town, just about, you know, at the
services and the social gatherings. This is my town. This little town,
Montreuil, is very nice.
You've been here since the '60s?
Since '62; exactly twenty years in April. (Laughs.) I guess I'm
not the wanderer I thought I was. (Laughs.)
Well, you've traveled quite a bit. You'll be off to Corsica tomorrow.I
hear that's an interestingplace.
That's what they tell me, "l'ile de la beaute." Well, I just play
tomorrow night and I come home Saturday, I hope. You know,
after this election they had, they've been laying out a lot of bombs
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IN MUSIC
and doing terrorist things.
Youhaven'tbeenplaying thefestivals in the south of France lately,have
you?
No, I haven't been to Nice since it was started. I had some offers
to go down, but the offers weren't to my approval. It was like ten
different orchestras, and they want the drummer to play with this
one and that one. In the afternoon, you play with this one ... and I
didn't think that was very interesting. You play with one and you
get used to it and you want to play with it the whole time. Changing
bands three times a day, you know, I didn't like that too much.
Yeah, I've been down, I guess, twice. I went down to hear Diz
and Count Basie-three times, I guess, because I played the Antibes Festival one year with Michel Saraby. Those things have to be
prepared so far in advance ... that you don't know if the musicians
you want are available.
Have you been backto the States lately?I mean, at leastyou were back
there with Dexter Gordon and WoodyShaw.
Yeah, yeah. I've been back since then. I was at the Wolf Trap
festival.
In Virginia?
Yeah, yeah. We had a "Retrospective" of Dizzy Gillespie and all
guys who played with him. We all got together. It was John Lewis's
idea. So that was really great. Then I got a chance in the afternoon
to jam with all the musicians that they had all over the park. They
had different stations where they had five or six musicians, seven to
eight over there, and all over the place, so I just went around
everywhere and jammed and had a ball. It was wonderful. They tell
me that the Wolf Trap burned down.
Ah, is that right?
Yeah, they said it burned completely down. Yeah, they said
there was a big fire. Boy, it really hurts my heart because that was
going to be an every-year thing.
So, how does the scene in Paris comparewith the States these days?
I think in New York there are more clubs operating, because
New York is like Paris used to be. We had a lot of trios, and piano
bars, drum and bass and piano, drum and bass and guitar. There
were a lot of those clubs in Paris, but they don't exist anymore, for
some reason. Now it's what is going on in New York. They have,
someone told me, ninety-seven of those sort of clubs in New York
alone. But, then again, you think about the financial situation. In
Paris it is more open, and the pay is almost double what you would
get in New York.
Is that right?
I mean, its just naturally like that. Then I discovered that ...
maybe if I asked for more I could triple it.
You don't know when you've gone beyondthe limit until you've tried.
Until you've hit that barrier.
KENNY CLARKE
217
That's right. So that's been working pretty well for me.
Yeah,I think there'sa storyabout it. I thinkBechetsaid the same thing
. . . in the '20s when he was going to cometo Europe. A man offeredhim so
much money, and he askedfor twice the amount becausehe didn't really
want to go, he was afraid to go across.And when the guy gave him twiceas
much, then he got Sidney.
So has it been difficult from, say a legal point of view, being in
Paris. Or is it possible to work all of that out?
Yeah, its pretty liberal.
Do you have French citizenship?
No, I don't. I am just a resident like any other immigrant
worker. You know, I have the same credentials. I asked for privileged residence; they wouldn't give it to me. They said "You move
around too much." So I said, "O.K." So every three years I have to
renew my residence-which isn't too bad.
And the younger musicians that come over-can theyget that kind of
status?
They don't bother at all. They just work. The French people,
they don't say anything. They know, but they say "Well, you know,
what the hell. That's just an American trying to make a buck. Leave
him alone." So it never bothered them. They would stay around for
years.
I guess here a musician is consideredto be an artist. He's someonethat
you don't bother.
No, they don't bother them at all. They stay around a long time,
a long time, until they decide to go home. You know, the French
people never give them any trouble. At the Blue Note there were
many, many, many American artists that would come, and I'd say,
"You got a job tomorrow." And they would say, "Oh yeah, great."
And they'd be working maybe two or three months; there was no
trouble, no taxes, no nothing. We had musicians like Stan Getz, J. J.
Johnson, Lou Bennett-I had the whole run of them. The French
people never asked for their papers.
Recently,I think, theythrewa birthdaypartyfor you here in Montreuil
not too long ago. Is that right?
No, that was at Club St. Germain. They let me put together a
jazz festival here, due to the fact that I was Montreuilois, and I had
lived here so long, and they had never done anything for me. So
they said "O.K., we've got to do something for you." So I sent for
Billy Mitchell and got all of my favorite French musicians together.
And we had to turn away about five-hundred people, which hurt
the organizer's heart. I mean, broke his heart. But I just said, "Oh,
but what you going to do? You should have a bigger place." So we
have a park, the Parc Monceau; and one day soon, one summer
soon, we are going to try to do a really good jazz festival, you know.
And we're going to send for John Lewis for his organizing ability,
and do a big festival at Montreuil.
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That would be great. When was this at the Club St. Germain?
It was in '74-on my 60th anniversary. Yeah, and they gave me
such a big cake. Everyone in the club got a piece of that cake. That
was the biggest cake I'd ever seen. The musicians came marching
down the steps playing tunes. It took me by surprise; I didn't
expect it. Moustache says, "Hey, Klook, when's your birthday?" He
knew it was in the winter sometime. I said, "January 9th," so he
said, "Oh, today's the 7th. O. K., maybe we'll think about it." So on
the 9th when I came to work, there it was. That was really great.
Well, we've been doing things here in Montreuil, too. We've had
Dizzy; we've had Art Blakey quite a few times.
Blakey comesto Paris quite a lot, doesn'the. I mean, he's been here a
couple of times this year.
Yeah, he's been to New Morning twice. He's played out here; he
played at Aulney-Sous-Bois. He gets around over here quite a bit.
Well, they like him.
And of course he's got [Wynton]Marsalis with him now.
Yeah, well, they've liked him ever since he had-I'm trying to
think-Oh, what was his name? He was killed recently. He was
about nineteen and people loved him. Then Blakey came back the
next year with another trumpet player who is quite big todayFreddie Hubbard. And that was a big success.
Oh, was it Lee Morgan?
Lee Morgan. He first came over with Lee Morgan, and that was
a big success. And then he brought the other trumpet player,
Freddie Hubbard. So they must have had a lot of confidence in Art.
Well he had an alto playerwho was reallygood, whoplayedwith himfor
afew years. A tall thin guy-Bobby Watson.I didn't think he got as much
credit as he deserved, becauseheHe was kind of leading the band. And then they had the
Russian trumpet player, and that was a big success too. The French
people didn't believe the Russians could play any kind of jazz, so
when they heard him they were amazed. So, Art has made quite an
imprint on jazz audiences in France.
And now jazz kind of has an intermediatestatus in France. I mean,
there is still a very loyal public although it's not as popular as it was.
No, it's not as active as it was, or I should say, used to be. But it's
coming back slowly; it's coming back in feeling. Now when you play
here at different places, and you feel the atmosphere, the change,
you feel it. That "free" music they were playing, people didn't like
that so much. When you play a melody now, everybody says "Oh,
that's so beautiful." So, it's coming back slowly.
A lot of the 'free" musicians are coming back to playing themesand
playing melodies.Archie Sheppdid an album of blues, an album of spirituals, an album of Charlie Parker tunes. And they were all very well done.
He got the last of that money, that freedom money. Boy, there
was a record company here that paid him just to stay in the studio
KENNY CLARKE
219
all day. They didn't know what to play, so they would just start
playing anything. The guy would say, "Great!" Now he's got all of
those records on the racks, and he can't give them away. I would
tell him [Shepp], "Man, you should have this music thought out
and well done and it will last. But the way you're doing it, someone
hears it once, and they'll break the record and throw it in the trash
pile."
That's the otherthing that I thoughtHodeir was reallygood about. He
was really into making solid compositions-a repertoire,like Monk did. I
mean, Monk made a repertoirefor all history.
That's the way it should be, I think.
But I think the musiciansneededto do that; theyhad to get beyondthat
point, I guess, to clear the air.
Now they can go back to the real thing without feeling any
shame, or anything of that sort-or being remorseful for what they
did in that period. Of course, some good things came out of it,
though they weren't as organized as the Beatles. They were really
organized and had their own program together, which was something that you could appreciate.
What freedom musicians wanted was a display of classical technique, which didn't integrate with jazz. It was a little too technical.
It didn't give time for thought. That was the whole thing. They
went "blo-wee-ee-ee" (makes noises to imitate an instrument). But
they didn't take time to think, "Why am I playing that note?" and
that kind of retarded the whole bunch of them. They decided,
"This is not it, so let's try something else."
There are a few of them in Germany that stick with it and
refuse to give it up. Well, in the States I knew it wouldn't last any
time, because if people can't pat their feet, they don't think it'sjazz.
You have to do like this (snaps his fingers rhythmically). If they
can't do that-well. With that freedom music, you never knew
where the beat was. In fact, the players didn't know where it was
themselves.
So are theresomegood drummerswho have comeout on the scene lately?
Not really. No. The drummers are into that freedom bag more
so than the players. The players are trying to do things together.
The drummer keeps f-g them up; he wants to do his
thing-not
realizing that he has to be the foundation, not the get-away horse.
He has to hold the reins and stay there. He hasn't realized that yet.
The rhythm section, the drums, bass, piano-that's the foundation.
And then you can build anything you want on that. But it has to
have a foundation, and that is what free music didn't have. It didn't
have a solid foundation, and that's what kicked them off.
You said some interestingthings. I like the metaphorthat you
usedfor
the drummerof a big band, who gets everybodyoff of the ground. It's like
flying a kite, holding that string. And that's a good way of putting it,
because there'redifferent ways of drumming-the drummingof the small
220
THE BLACK PERSPECTIVE
IN MUSIC
comboand the drumming of the big band. There are different contexts.
'Cause in the big bands you have sixteen or seventeen different
men depending on you, depending upon what the tempo is going
to be, and if you are going to hold it. There's things like that, you
know, and they depend upon that. In small groups you can get
away a little bit, but [you must] always come back to where you
started. Never get away from the base. Do the little eccentricities
here and there, but always come back. That's what I like about Max
[Roach]. He does a whole lot of things, but he always comes back.
I've heard some of the greatest solos listening to Max Roach.
Yeah, he's a great soloist.
He hasn't been over lately, has he?
He used to come quite often, for that same guy who ran Jazz
Unite. He was acting as Max's impresario for a long time. Max ...
would do things with Archie Shepp. No, he hasn't been over for a
couple of years. He was passing through, and he called me
once.... I asked him if he was going to stay in Paris a while. He
said, "No, I'm calling you from the airport. I'm on my way home."
So I think he had been to the North Sea Festival-flying from
Amsterdam to New York. Sonny Stitt was a favorite over here.
He's come a couple of times this year, I think.
Yeah, I worked with him in Nantes the last time he came
through. But he up and died.
Sonny Stitt died? I didn't know that. Oh, that is really too bad. He was
playing really well lately, I thought.
Oh, man, he was a fabulous player.
I heardhim theselastfew times;he soundedgreat, in perfectshape.How
did he die?
I don't know. As we say, his heart stopped. He died in Washington. He was telling me how he was in great shape; he had stopped
drinking, and he felt good. And he was playing wonderful. There
are only a few of us out here now. We're disappearing fast.
Thereare not too manyAmericansleft here in Parisfrom the earlydays
are there?
No, no. I feel alone. Well, there's Harold Singer here.
Are you going back to the States again soon?
No. Whenever they feel they want me back, you know, then I'll
go. I've nothing against the States. A lot of young people, you
know, have never heard me, and I imagine they want to know,
"Who is Kenny Clarke?" So maybe I'll get a chance to go back soon.
Montreuil-sous-Bois, France
KENNY CLARKE
221
NOTES
1. Quoted in Ira Gitler,Jazz Masterof theForties (New York: Da Capo Press,
1984, c1966), 174.
2. Gitler, 174.
3. Brian Case and Stan Britt, The IllustratedEncyclopediaofJazz (New York:
Harmony Books, 1979), 27.
4. Ina Dittke, "Honoring Kenny Clarke: The Paris Reunion Band Plays
On,"Jazz Times (April 1985): 11.