Earl Hines joined jazz critic and television host, Ralph Gleason on his program Jazz Casual. He beautifully illustrates some elements of his style!

Air Date: February 15, 1963
Live music performances and interviews

This Jazz Casual episode showcases Hines as he was embarking on a successful comeback that earned him the 1965 “Critics’ Choice” for Down Beat Magazine’s “Hall of Fame.”

Earl “Fatha” Hines has been called the first modern jazz pianist, hence the moniker “Fatha” and is perhaps best known for his “trumpet style” approach to the piano. His musical aesthetic differed greatly from other pianists of the time in his use of what were then considered unusual rhythms and accents. His work set jazz piano playing on a new course that was to have profound implications for later developments in the music.

Earl Kenneth Hines was born on December 28, 1903 in the Pittsburgh suburb of Duquesne, Pennsylvania. His father, a foreman at the local coal dock, played cornet; his stepmother, who entered his life when he was three, was an organist. After a brief stint with the cornet, Earl took to the piano and applied himself, both with formal school training and private lessons, hoping to become a concert pianist. At this time, in addition to possessing a great technical facility, he developed an uncanny ability to read music that served him throughout his career.

In 1917, Hines moved to Pittsburgh to live with an aunt and attend high school.  Here, he was exposed to a broader world of music that included jazz. He first played professionally in 1918, accompanying the singer Lois Deppe, with whom he later made his first recordings.

Hines moved to Chicago, which was then becoming the center of the jazz world, in 1923. He played with Carroll Dickerson’s Orchestra at the Entertainer’s Club in 1925, ventured on an extensive tour to the West Coast and Canada in the following year and ultimately returned to Chicago to perform at the Sunset Club. During this last engagement, Hines met a musician who would have a profound impact on his musical conception, Louis Armstrong.

In 1927, Hines became director of Dickerson’s group with Armstrong as the prominent soloist. The following year was incredibly productive for Hines. He recorded his first ten piano solos including versions of “A Monday Date,” “Blues in Thirds” and “57 Varieties.”  Hines worked much of the year with clarinetist Jimmie Noone’s Apex Club Orchestra and joined Armstrong on the Hot Five and Hot Seven recording sessions, playing on the classics “West End Blues,”  “Fireworks,” and “Basin Street Blues.” Perhaps one of their most original collaborations was the trumpet and piano duet, “Weather Bird” for the Okeh recording company.

On his twenty-fifth birthday, Hines debuted his own band at the Grand Terrace in Chicago, where he remained for ten years.  His band garnered greater exposure through nationwide tours and, from 1934, radio broadcasts.

Hines continued to lead big bands until 1947 that highlighted such important figures as Billy Eckstine, Sarah Vaughan, Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie and experimented with the harmonic lexicon and melodic language of Bebop. This collaborative effort demonstrated Hines’s openness to change and interest in the evolutions that were developing in the music; many of which could be attributed to him.

From 1948 to 1951, Hines returned to his Hot Jazz roots and capitalized on the burgeoning Dixieland Revival by joining Armstrong’s All Stars. Pivotal engagements included performances on The Ed Sullivan Show where Hines accompanied Armstrong on “Where the Blues Were Born in New Orleans” and “A Song Was Born.”

By the early 1960s, when jazz was no longer a commercial entity, Hines settled in Oakland, California, opened a tobacco shop and entertained the idea of foregoing a musical profession. However, in 1964 he was rediscovered following a series of concerts in New York City; consequently, he earned the 1965 “Critics’ Choice” for Down Beat Magazine’s “Hall of Fame.”

Hines led his own small band into the 1980s, and continued to perform regularly in the United Stated and abroad until the weekend before his death on April 23, 1983.

MC

Harlem Stride piano employed a looping left-hand motion — from the lower register of the piano to its mid-range. James P. often played a single note in the bass on beat 1 (e.g. G2) and then a triad on the following beat. This pattern repeats for the remainder of the pulses, creating somewhat of a “oom-pah” or “boom-chic” effect.

Here’s the practice-version again for your reference:

Measure 1:

Harmony: I – vii°7

Left Hand: G2 strides up to a root-position G triad, down to F#2 and up to F#min7b5. Take note of the voice-leading: the single notes on the strong beats are moving down by step, while the triads are voiced with as little movement as possible (a fine example of voice-leading). More specifically, G3 moves to F#3, B3 moves to A3, (the fifth of the chord is omitted), and D4 moves up to Eb4.

Measure 2:

Harmony:  vi – V7/IV

Left Hand: (On the downbeat) E2 strides up to a first inversion Emin triad and then down to D2. A root-position dominant-7th chord (with the omitted 5th) is the final chord of the measure. As in measure 1, the notes on the strong beats move down by step (E2 to D2) and the chord members one the weak beats follow the rules of proper voice-leading). In this case, two common-tones (G3 and B3) are shared, while E4 moves up by step to F4 (the seventh of the G7 chord).

Measure 3:

Harmony: IV – V

Left Hand: Johnson creates a great rhythmic effect by playing C2 on the downbeat, but rather than striding up to a chord as is conventional, he only moves up by step to C#2! This rhythmic device, known as a backbeat, gives a propulsive, swinging effect that sets the rest of the measure off kilter! In fact, rather than playing a single note on the third beat, he strides up to the dominant triad. A leap down to C#2 concludes the measure.

Measure 4

Harmony: V7 – I

Left hand: The C#2 moves up by a half-step on the downbeat. The conventional stride pattern continues as the D2 strides to the D7 chord on beat 2, down to G2 and finally reaches the tonic triad on the final pulse.

MC

(1897-1973)

Allow himself to introduce… himself!

Willie “The Lion” Smith was one of the progenitors of the Harlem Stride piano style; he is considered among the “Big Three,” along with James P. Johnson and Thomas “Fats” Waller. During the 1920s, he gained a reputation as a hot piano player who could “rag the classics” or play some gutbucket. He, along with Johnson and Waller, provided the soundtrack for the rent parties in the private homes and small clubs of Harlem. He recorded rarely during the 1920s, but was the first musical director of Mamie Smith’s Jazz Hounds and was the accompanist on “Crazy Blues,” the first blues recording ever  released.

Here’s Willie discussing his early forays into jazz:

Willie’s family relocated to Newark, New Jersey, a move that would prove to make an indelible impression. “The Lion” was introduced to the school of East Coast Ragtime, as espoused by none other than James P. Johnson. The two, along with Johnson’s protege, Fats Waller, would become life-long friends (and cutting-contest competitors!).

In 1915, Willie entered the armed forces to fight in World War I; it was during the war, and because of his great valor, when Willie earned the moniker, “The Lion.” Upon returning from the war, Willie pursued the musical front: accompanying Mamie Smith on the aforementioned “Crazy Blues” and setting the blues craze ablaze.

Here’s “The Lion’s” definition of the Harlem style of piano (spoken in true “Lion” fashion!):

Perhaps the best way to understand “The Lion” is to give a listen. Here he is playing “Finger Buster”:

Throughout his career, “The Lion” led few bands, preferring the life of a solo performer. He remained very active until his death from cancer on April 18, 1973.

Here are some last words from “The Lion”:

Play an excerpt of the 1921 recording by James P:

Play a practice-version of the excerpt with a slower tempo:

Sit with that for a while — a discussion to follow!

MC

Art Tatum

I thought we’d continue our coverage of Art Tatum with an excerpt from the exquisitely researched website, Riverwalk Jazz.

Here’s the excerpt:

Behind narrator David Holt’s commentary, you’ll hear one of Tatum’s signature songs, Tea for Two.

I’m hoping you are beginning to see the Harlem Stride lineage from James P. Johnson (the “Father of Stride”) to Fats Waller and now…Art Tatum.

The starting point of Art Tatum’s style was that of Fats Waller’s Harlem stride. As Tatum once said, “Fats, that’s where I come out of and, man, that’s quite a place to come from.”

But to listen to Tatum is to be exposed to an artist with unrivaled speed, technical virtuosity, and perhaps most importantly, the exploration of more advanced, complex harmonies. He may have had the foundation of Waller’s style, but he certainly eclipsed him and anyone else who crossed his path.

To prove my point, I have included a recording of Art Tatum performing Waller’s Ain’t Misbehavin. And, below that, I have included the example of Waller from our previous post. Get ready!

Fat’s Waller’s version:

My comparison is by no way meant to diminish Waller’s role in jazz history. On the contrary, sometimes I feel that Waller has a smoother sense of swing and perhaps that…less is more. I’ll let you decide.

As an aside, here are some famous anecdotes about a few very famous jazz musicians’ first exposure to Tatum:

When Oscar Peterson was a prodigious teenager, his father thought he was getting “too big for his britches.” His father sat Oscar down to listen to a recording of Tatum; the young Peterson wept and he refused to touch a piano for two months.

When Hank Jones first heard a recording of Tatum, he believed that at least three people were playing and clearly they had devised some sort of trick to make people think it was just one.

Les Paul, guitarist and pioneer of the solid-body guitar (that made Rock and Roll possible!), began his musical pursuits as a pianist. Regarding his first exposure to Tatum,  “after hearing Tatum for the first time, I quit piano completely and began playing guitar.” Lucky for the history of American music!

MC

Art Tatum was born October 13, 1909 in Toledo, Ohio. He was born with cataracts in both eyes, consequently leaving him legally blind. Despite his impairment, he became arguably the greatest pianist in the history of jazz, commanding a facility on the instrument that was truly unrivaled.

Although he was largely self-taught, Tatum had formal musical training as a child. Studying at the Columbus School for the Blind, he procured a comprehension of music through a system of braille.  Tatum was clearly influenced by the masters of the classical oeuvre, however it was the syncopated, jubilant style of Harlem Stride piano that spurred his interests.

While still in his formative years, he was given the opportunity to play interludes at WSPD, a Toledo, Ohio radio station. Shortly thereafter, he was featured in a program of his own.  In 1932, Tatum moved to New York City to accompany vocalist, Adelaide Hall.  The following year, he made his first recordings, among which was “Tiger Rag.”

Perhaps inspired by the format of the Nat “King” Cole Trio, Tatum formed a similar aggregate with bassist Slam Stewart and guitarist Tiny Grimes. He recorded exclusively with the trio for nearly two years, but abandoned the format in 1945 and returned to solo piano work. The last two years of his life, Tatum regularly played at Baker’s Keyboard Lounge in Detroit, including his final public performance in April 1956. His recording output included work for Decca (1934–41), Capitol (1949, 1952) and for the labels associated with Norman Granz (1953–56).

Tatum passed away on November 4, 1956 as a result of uremia.

Below is a clip that includes pianists Dick Hyman and Billy Taylor discussing Tatum’s peerless approach.

Fats Waller

It’s time to examine one of the most important figures in the history of jazz (yet sadly, he is unfortunately better known to the public for his comedic charm rather than his musical virtuosity!).

From a previous post, we discovered that Waller was not only a pianist of startling technique, but was a prolific composer as well. One of his most famous works, a collaboration with Andy Razaf, was a musical entitled (Connie’s) Hot Chocolates in 1929 (which ultimately featured Louis Armstrong!) The show proved to be such a success that it moved onto Broadway, opening at the Hudson Theatre on June 20, 1929, and ran for over two hundred performances.

Over the next few posts, I’d like to focus on two tunes from the show: Ain’t Misbehavin and (What Did I Do to Be So) Black and Blue.

Ain’t Misbehavin’

(Recorded: Hollywood January 23, 1943)

Original key: C Major

Form: AABA (popular song form); some might argue that it’s an AABC form, which is certainly acceptable.

Tonal center: Primarily major with the exception of the brief minor passage in the B section.

Here’s the cast of characters:

Fats Waller (piano/vocals), Benny Carter (trumpet), Alton ‘Slim’ Moore (trombone), Gene Porter (clarinet/tenor sax), Irving Ashby (guitar), Slam Stewart (bass), Zutty Singleton (drums).

Here’s the tune:

Fats begins the tune with a four bar introduction before entering with the main theme — all in the Harlem  stride style (notice the striding left hand — almost providing a boom-chick-boom-chick effect). Meanwhile, Zutty is tastefully accompanying him with brushes in the background. Slam shortly joins to fill out the rhythm section.

Fats plays through the 16 bars of the A section — mostly keeping with the melody while adding some ornamentation in the right hand.

In the B section (0:48), which is traditionally a contrasting section that bridges the first A sections to the final A section (or what some may label a C section), Fats strays from the melody — he uses descending, cascading runs. The harmony, though, should be fairly apparent (for the more advanced listener) under his melodic elaborations.

After the bridge, Fats takes some liberties with the melody of the final A section. As we approach the final bars, you’ll notice a climax that will lead to the entire band accompanying Fats as he sings for the second chorus!

The second chorus, as Fats sings, has a slightly different texture; initially Slim Moore provides an obbligato line under Fats’s vocal line, while Irving Ashby establishes the chord sequence with his guitar. All the while, the rest of the rhythm section supports underneath. After the first two A sections (16 bars), they enter the B section…

Clarinetist Gene Porter takes the obbligato role while Fats sings through the 8 bars beginning with, “like Jack Horner…”

After the bridge, comes the final A section. Once again Slim plays his trombone under Fats’s vocal line. Keep in mind, the rhythm section is accompanying them throughout.

Then, they kick it up a notch! Zutty Singleton takes a solo with Fats comping behind him. There are essentially moving through the first two A sections (yes, a THIRD chorus!) Then, they have somewhat of a conversation before the entire band joins the fun!

You’ll notice at (3:22) they play in a collective improvisation format, where each instrument improvises at the same time. This is over the B section (you might try singing “Like Jack Horner, in the corner…” to catch what the band is doing. In the final bar of the B section, they break it down! The tempo slows (uses a ritardando)  just in time to bring Fats to the final A section, “I don’t stay out late, don’t care to go. I’m home about eight, just me and my radio. Ain’t misbehavin’, I’m savin’ all my love for you!”

That’s a wrap, folks!

MC

For an incredibly enlightening and thoroughly researched discussion of James P. Johnson’s contributions to symphonic jazz, read John Howland’s book, Ellington Uptown.

Johnson, although a pianist and composer of extraordinary talent, has had very little written about him. In fact, the only thorough biography on Johnson is by author Scott E. Brown; the book is entitled James P. Johnson: A Case of Mistaken Identity.

As an aside, the estate of James P. Johnson bequeathed a collection: Johnson, James Price, Collection, ca. 1921 – 1955, Posthumous: Music and Scripts,which can be found at the Institute of Jazz Studies at Rutgers University in Newark, NJ.

For an incredibly astute article on James P. Johnson, Carolina Shout, and improvisation, read Henry Martin’s Balancing Composition and Improvisation in James P. Johnsons ‘Carolina Shout.’ Be advised: this is a very complex analysis and is not for the faint of heart

Here’s the tune:

The cast of characters: Well..just Fats!

Form: AABA (traditional song-form)

What to listen for:

The tune starts off with an eight-bar introduction, followed by two choruses of the head, or main melody. Next, there is a four-bar interlude where Fats modulates (changes key) and moves into a thirty-two bar “Trio” strain (a term taken from Ragtime); these thirty-two measures have a form that is independent of the primary AABA arrangement along with new melodic content. In order to add unity to the tune, Fats follows the “Trio” with two choruses of the original head (in the original key) and then finishes off with a tag (or coda).

MC