Here’s an example of spectacular.
On screen, light shines on the sleeping, off-duty sailor. He awakens. In the theater, a big band plays, its score at this point cautious, curious. Other sailors awaken. There’s alarm. The big band score evokes apprehension but still curiosity, too. Sailors scurry, climb the riggings. The live music escalates. In the distance, a fleet of ships approaches. They’re the enemy. Will they attack? Music and movie mesh, the music building the stress and the sense of unknown, and underlying increasingly frenetic action. My hands are clenched, tight.
On screen, gun turrets are manned and raised. This single battleship prepares for an enemy fleet. They are the enemy, aren’t they? Why don’t they attack? The big band feeds the tension while foreshadowing nothing about how this will end.
I’m not going to tell you how it ends, either.
But I’ll tell you this: We’re hearing big band outside the box. This isn’t a lush auditorium with a guest artist. This isn’t late night in a club. This is Kansas City’s most original, inventive big band performing their score to the renowned 1925 silent film, Battleship Potemkin. The film plays to a few hundred people in the darkened theater, and the People’s Liberation Big Band of Greater Kansas City is an inseparable part of the experience.
Last year I photographed the big band’s May 1st performance at the Record Bar (here) where they played excerpts from their Battleship Potemkin score to excerpts from the film. It was typically quirky and fun, but the highlight of the evening came later when vocalists joined the band to parody the works of Kurt Weill. That’s the kind of musical sarcasm which People’s Liberation Big Band (PLBB) pulls off so skillfully, and which plays through so many of their shows with intellectual yet visceral delight.
But the real delight of their score to Battleship Potemkin wasn’t revealed until last Tuesday, May 1st, in the lower level theater of the Plaza Library, where the film was shown on the big screen. The music, both the original score and its performance, complemented the film near-perfectly, as if this 1925 silent epic was always meant to be seen with this and only this accompaniment.
Our friend Plastic Sax has written about the plethora of big bands Kansas City today is blessed to enjoy (here). And the others, such as the Kansas City Jazz Orchestra, are terrific, full of jazz masters over whom this city can unashamedly gloat. But few big band fans who relish a plush chair to enjoy the latest arrangement of a Basie or Ellington classic will also appreciate the risks taken by PLBB.
This is not your grandfather’s big band. It’s compositions pushing the edge through talent and wit. It’s unconventional voicing in unconventional settings. It’s accompanying, of all things, a Russian silent film lamenting workers’ rights on International Workers Day. Name another big band which has done that.
The People’s Liberation Big Band of Greater Kansas City takes chances, sometimes outrageous ones. And sometimes those chances don’t work.
But when they work, the results can be spectacular.
*****
So you missed last Tuesday’s Battleship Potemkin performance. But you can still enjoy the People’s Liberation Big Band of Greater Kansas City on a new CD.
They perform the first number, 12 Miniature Blues, 16 minutes of it, on Music for Owen/Cox Dance Group, Vol. 1. This may have been composed by PLBB leader Brad Cox for dance, but it stands on its own as a showcase for the big band at its best. From off-kilter cartoonish blues to Bob Fosse-style sleaze, to a sound cacophony, all wrapped in Brad’s unconventional whimsy, this is big band as you don’t hear big band anywhere else. It pushes boundaries and it’s fun.
You can purchase Music for Owen/Cox Dance Group, Vol. 1, here.
*****
Bill Caldwell Tribute
From an email from Stan Kessler:
My friends,
We are having a joyous celebration of the life of Bill Caldwell, May 20th, 2 p.m. at The Blue Room. This is for those of us who knew and loved Bill, but could not make it to the funeral. Please help us spread the word to the appropriate people.
Here’s the format:
Short set of tunes recorded by Bill by host band - Me, Kerry Strayer, Everett DeVan, Bob Bowman, Mike Warren, (Jerry Hahn?).
Remarks and stories by friends and family.
Jam session.
Tunes from Bill's CD projects played intermittently throughout.
The idea is for this to be fun and light, as Bill would have wanted it. This will last about 2 hours. There will be his CDs for sale, and part of the proceeds will go to his wife, Kim, to help defray funeral costs.
Hope to see you there.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Monday, April 30, 2012
A Repost on Andy Kirk
The bulk of my last week was spent traveling on business, and when I returned I purchased a new car, replacing a reliable but aged jalopy. My mind has rambled amongst numerous topics this past week, but none of them, alas, was jazz. So today I ponder nothing new. Instead, I offer a re-post from this blog's early days, from January, 2010, when I was recounting tales of my days as an organizer of the Kansas City Jazz Festival (and when hardly anyone read this blog). This particular tale recalls the year we brought to town and I had the delight to meet bandleader Andy Kirk.
*****
Many don’t know that Andy Kirk led what once was the most popular band to come out of Kansas City, Andy Kirk and his Clouds of Joy. Their 1936 recording of Until the Real Thing Comes Along was that year’s top national hit. Count Basie would leave Kansas City the same year, and by 1937 Basie’s band was recording a string of tunes which not only eclipsed the Clouds of Joy’s popularity but which remain jazz standards today.
For the 1985 festival, we brought Andy Kirk back to Kansas City to honor him. The original idea (mine, actually) was to celebrate Kirk and fellow KC jazz era bandleader Harlan Leonard with a battle of the bands, groups we would assemble and they would nominally lead. But we found that Leonard had passed away a year-and-a-half earlier in California. So we flew in 87-year old Andy Kirk and scrapped the mock battle.
I would introduce Andy on stage. I’d prepared remarks, but wanted to make certain I had all the facts right. The Nelson Museum hosted our hospitality room that year, and that’s where I sat down with Andy.
I’ll never meet anyone nicer, or more delightful. I intended to cover my list of facts in a few minutes. But as I read off each, Andy asked, “Can I tell you a story about that?” For half an hour he regaled me with tales of Kansas City in the 1920s and ’30s, of life on the road, of legendary pianist and composer Mary Lou Williams, of the beginnings of Kansas City jazz. Among my great regrets from those festival years is that I did not have a recorder on the table that day.
All that Andy told me is in his autobiography, Twenty Years on Wheels (1989, The University of Michigan Press). Yet, for some reason, one particular story sticks with me still.
When Andy took over as bandleader in 1929, a promoter dubbed the group Andy Kirk and his Dark Clouds of Joy, with “Dark” in the name to insure no confusion that this was a band of black musicians. But Andy didn’t like “Dark” in the name. As he explains in his book:
“I’d heard that expression back in Denver. It usually came from men hanging around in front of a saloon with nothing to do. When some of us came down the street towards them they’d remark, ‘Looks like it’s gonna rain. Dark clouds comin’.’”
Upon taking charge, Andy’s first change was to rename the band, Andy Kirk and his Twelve Clouds of Joy.
*****
Few who know Kansas City jazz will ever forget Claude “Fiddler” Williams. His first recording (to my knowledge) was with Andy Kirk and his Twelve Clouds of Joy in a 1929 session at KMBC radio. Coincidentally, “Fiddler” played in a jam group just ahead of Andy at the 1985 festival. Of course, I know that over the years many people older than I saw “Fiddler” Williams and Andy Kirk together. But I was young and impressionable. And as I watched them greet each other on stage and chat, I was taken by the Kansas City jazz history standing before me.
I still am. I may not be young anymore, but I remain quite impressionable.
*****
The next day, some of the wonderful folks from Kansas City Parks and Rec, who booked the festival that year, took Andy on a tour of downtown. He wanted to see what this city had become. They stopped on 12th Street, in front of the then-brand new Vista International Hotel (today, the Marriott). This, they told him, replaced a strip of old buildings and clubs where he once played. Andy, they later told me, was amazed.
That would turn out to be Andy Kirk’s last visit to Kansas City.
*****
Many don’t know that Andy Kirk led what once was the most popular band to come out of Kansas City, Andy Kirk and his Clouds of Joy. Their 1936 recording of Until the Real Thing Comes Along was that year’s top national hit. Count Basie would leave Kansas City the same year, and by 1937 Basie’s band was recording a string of tunes which not only eclipsed the Clouds of Joy’s popularity but which remain jazz standards today.
For the 1985 festival, we brought Andy Kirk back to Kansas City to honor him. The original idea (mine, actually) was to celebrate Kirk and fellow KC jazz era bandleader Harlan Leonard with a battle of the bands, groups we would assemble and they would nominally lead. But we found that Leonard had passed away a year-and-a-half earlier in California. So we flew in 87-year old Andy Kirk and scrapped the mock battle.
I would introduce Andy on stage. I’d prepared remarks, but wanted to make certain I had all the facts right. The Nelson Museum hosted our hospitality room that year, and that’s where I sat down with Andy.
I’ll never meet anyone nicer, or more delightful. I intended to cover my list of facts in a few minutes. But as I read off each, Andy asked, “Can I tell you a story about that?” For half an hour he regaled me with tales of Kansas City in the 1920s and ’30s, of life on the road, of legendary pianist and composer Mary Lou Williams, of the beginnings of Kansas City jazz. Among my great regrets from those festival years is that I did not have a recorder on the table that day.
All that Andy told me is in his autobiography, Twenty Years on Wheels (1989, The University of Michigan Press). Yet, for some reason, one particular story sticks with me still.
When Andy took over as bandleader in 1929, a promoter dubbed the group Andy Kirk and his Dark Clouds of Joy, with “Dark” in the name to insure no confusion that this was a band of black musicians. But Andy didn’t like “Dark” in the name. As he explains in his book:
“I’d heard that expression back in Denver. It usually came from men hanging around in front of a saloon with nothing to do. When some of us came down the street towards them they’d remark, ‘Looks like it’s gonna rain. Dark clouds comin’.’”
Upon taking charge, Andy’s first change was to rename the band, Andy Kirk and his Twelve Clouds of Joy.
*****
Few who know Kansas City jazz will ever forget Claude “Fiddler” Williams. His first recording (to my knowledge) was with Andy Kirk and his Twelve Clouds of Joy in a 1929 session at KMBC radio. Coincidentally, “Fiddler” played in a jam group just ahead of Andy at the 1985 festival. Of course, I know that over the years many people older than I saw “Fiddler” Williams and Andy Kirk together. But I was young and impressionable. And as I watched them greet each other on stage and chat, I was taken by the Kansas City jazz history standing before me.
I still am. I may not be young anymore, but I remain quite impressionable.
*****
The next day, some of the wonderful folks from Kansas City Parks and Rec, who booked the festival that year, took Andy on a tour of downtown. He wanted to see what this city had become. They stopped on 12th Street, in front of the then-brand new Vista International Hotel (today, the Marriott). This, they told him, replaced a strip of old buildings and clubs where he once played. Andy, they later told me, was amazed.
That would turn out to be Andy Kirk’s last visit to Kansas City.
Monday, April 23, 2012
This 'n That 'n a Map
By this time, the Cherry Blossom was a bowling alley. But there was a post office just a couple doors away. The Street and the Booker T. Washington and the Rochester all stood as active hotels. You could see movies at The Gem. There's apartments and homes throughout the district. A filling station sits right along The Paseo, just south of 18th Street. And on 18th, across from what today we call the Boone Theater, and a couple doors down, you could find an undertaker.
I’ve been introduced to Sanborn Fire Insurance Maps. The Kansas City Public Library’s web site probably offers the best explanation of them:
“These maps, created by the Sanborn Map Company to assist fire insurance companies to assess the risk of insuring a particular property, are a great resource. Besides showing what buildings existed in a specific area at a certain time, the original shape (footprint) is illustrated, allowing you to pinpoint any remodeling or other changes that may have occurred over time. The footprints are color-coded to indicate building material (e.g., brick, frame, stucco), and other symbols are used to indicate roofing material, location of chimneys, water line availability, and other features….
“Because it was prohibitively expensive to reprint them, employees of the Sanborn company would use a base volume and paste over areas where significant change had occurred (e.g., a new building had been built). For example, a base volume may be dated 1909, but the changes within that volume could date as late as 1945….”
Or 1950, in the case of the Sanborn map for the 18th and Vine district, which you can view on the library’s web site, here. Controls on the site allow you to enlarge and scroll the map.
The map provides a fascinating snapshot of the historic district. It’s a layout of the district three years before urban renewal would begin transforming the surrounding areas. It would be fourteen years before the Public Accommodations Act would pass, forcing Kansas City businesses to serve black patrons. It had been fourteen years since Count Basie left for New York. Musically, we were midway between Lester Young taking down Coleman Hawkins in an historic jam session at the Cherry Blossom, and The Beatles appearing on The Ed Sullivan Show.
18th and Vine’s day as a jazz mecca had passed. The Eblon, which opened as a silent movie theater in 1923, became the Cherry Blossom nightclub in the 1930s and then the Chez Paree (where Jay McShann and Walter Brown performed nightly) in the 1940s, is identified on this map as a bowling alley. The building which opened as the New Rialto Theater in 1924, was renamed the Boone Theater, and later Scott’s Theater, here is a National Guard Armory.
The district at this time was segregated Kansas City’s vibrant black downtown. 18th Street from Paseo to Woodland is packed with storefronts. Likewise, Vine. Most businesses are not identified. But among the ones that are, you find a couple of drugstores, auto repair garages, a bicycle repair shop, filling stations, a couple of printers, photo shops, a post office, offices, restaurants, hotels, homes, apartments, churches, a movie theater, a pool hall, and a building at 1823 Highland that’s labeled, Club Ho[use].
The map is a glimpse of 18th and Vine at a particular point in time, somewhere between its days of jazz and sin and its days of museums and a giant neon greeting.
*****
Diverse Trio with Hermon Mehari, Ben Leifer and Ryan Lee. Millie Edwards and Michael Pagan. Joe Cartwright and “Duck” Warner.
So we know the jazz will be superb.
JazzBeats is a fundraiser for pancreatic cancer next Sunday, April 29th, in the Off-Broadway Theatre, at the edge of Penn Valley Park. It runs from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. The organizers describe it like this:
“Brunch style small plates brought to you by local Kansas City restaurants and food trucks. Our menu ranges from chicken and waffles to tacos to quiche and bagels.
“A come and go as you please festival… an atmosphere of mingling, toe tapping and food sampling.”
More information is on their web site, here.
*****
Two days later is May 1st. That’s International Worker’s Day. And you know what that means.
If you don’t, you can refresh your memory here. That’s the last time I photographed the People’s Liberation Big Band of Greater Kansas City, one of the quirkiest and funnest big bands you’ll find. And International Worker’s Day is their holiday.
Last year at The Record Bar, they celebrated in part by playing a portion of their score to the silent film Battleship Potemkin. I noted in the post, “They have a complete score ready if a theater would show the film. Anyone?”
How about we settle for a library.
On Tuesday May 1st, the People’s Liberation Big Band of Greater Kansas City will play their complete score during a showing of the silent film Battleship Potemkin at the Plaza branch of the Kansas City Library. A reception starts at 6 p.m. and the film at 6:30. Admission is free. More details are here.
Until last year, I never thought that International Worker’s Day would become a holiday I look forward to. But, frankly, this year I can’t wait.
I’ve been introduced to Sanborn Fire Insurance Maps. The Kansas City Public Library’s web site probably offers the best explanation of them:
“These maps, created by the Sanborn Map Company to assist fire insurance companies to assess the risk of insuring a particular property, are a great resource. Besides showing what buildings existed in a specific area at a certain time, the original shape (footprint) is illustrated, allowing you to pinpoint any remodeling or other changes that may have occurred over time. The footprints are color-coded to indicate building material (e.g., brick, frame, stucco), and other symbols are used to indicate roofing material, location of chimneys, water line availability, and other features….
“Because it was prohibitively expensive to reprint them, employees of the Sanborn company would use a base volume and paste over areas where significant change had occurred (e.g., a new building had been built). For example, a base volume may be dated 1909, but the changes within that volume could date as late as 1945….”
Or 1950, in the case of the Sanborn map for the 18th and Vine district, which you can view on the library’s web site, here. Controls on the site allow you to enlarge and scroll the map.
The map provides a fascinating snapshot of the historic district. It’s a layout of the district three years before urban renewal would begin transforming the surrounding areas. It would be fourteen years before the Public Accommodations Act would pass, forcing Kansas City businesses to serve black patrons. It had been fourteen years since Count Basie left for New York. Musically, we were midway between Lester Young taking down Coleman Hawkins in an historic jam session at the Cherry Blossom, and The Beatles appearing on The Ed Sullivan Show.
18th and Vine’s day as a jazz mecca had passed. The Eblon, which opened as a silent movie theater in 1923, became the Cherry Blossom nightclub in the 1930s and then the Chez Paree (where Jay McShann and Walter Brown performed nightly) in the 1940s, is identified on this map as a bowling alley. The building which opened as the New Rialto Theater in 1924, was renamed the Boone Theater, and later Scott’s Theater, here is a National Guard Armory.
The district at this time was segregated Kansas City’s vibrant black downtown. 18th Street from Paseo to Woodland is packed with storefronts. Likewise, Vine. Most businesses are not identified. But among the ones that are, you find a couple of drugstores, auto repair garages, a bicycle repair shop, filling stations, a couple of printers, photo shops, a post office, offices, restaurants, hotels, homes, apartments, churches, a movie theater, a pool hall, and a building at 1823 Highland that’s labeled, Club Ho[use].
The map is a glimpse of 18th and Vine at a particular point in time, somewhere between its days of jazz and sin and its days of museums and a giant neon greeting.
*****
Diverse Trio with Hermon Mehari, Ben Leifer and Ryan Lee. Millie Edwards and Michael Pagan. Joe Cartwright and “Duck” Warner.
So we know the jazz will be superb.
JazzBeats is a fundraiser for pancreatic cancer next Sunday, April 29th, in the Off-Broadway Theatre, at the edge of Penn Valley Park. It runs from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. The organizers describe it like this:
“Brunch style small plates brought to you by local Kansas City restaurants and food trucks. Our menu ranges from chicken and waffles to tacos to quiche and bagels.
“A come and go as you please festival… an atmosphere of mingling, toe tapping and food sampling.”
More information is on their web site, here.
*****
Two days later is May 1st. That’s International Worker’s Day. And you know what that means.
If you don’t, you can refresh your memory here. That’s the last time I photographed the People’s Liberation Big Band of Greater Kansas City, one of the quirkiest and funnest big bands you’ll find. And International Worker’s Day is their holiday.
Last year at The Record Bar, they celebrated in part by playing a portion of their score to the silent film Battleship Potemkin. I noted in the post, “They have a complete score ready if a theater would show the film. Anyone?”
How about we settle for a library.
On Tuesday May 1st, the People’s Liberation Big Band of Greater Kansas City will play their complete score during a showing of the silent film Battleship Potemkin at the Plaza branch of the Kansas City Library. A reception starts at 6 p.m. and the film at 6:30. Admission is free. More details are here.
Until last year, I never thought that International Worker’s Day would become a holiday I look forward to. But, frankly, this year I can’t wait.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Snapshots of History
I’ve written before about the Eblon Theater, which later became the Cherry Blossom, and its unique significance to Kansas City’s jazz history (here).
Which can make it interesting to read news articles from the time of its opening, to understand its perception then.
The following article is from one of Kansas City’s black newspapers in 1923 (the city had four black newspapers at the time):
A photo which ran around the same time was headlined The Pioneer Builder and was identified as Homer (“Jap”) Eblon. The caption read:
The Eblon Theater opened in October, 1923. Homer “Jap” Eblon operated it from 1923 until moving with his family to California in 1928. He was killed in a car wreck in California in October, 1929. He was survived by his wife and daughter.
The building burned in an arson fire in 1984. Its braced facade still stands at 1822 Vine Street.
*****
The Street Hotel, at the corner of 18th Street and The Paseo, was the preeminent hotel for black patrons in segregated Kansas City. The original Blue Room nightclub and the popular Red Room restaurant were inside.
What did it look like?
Here’s a postcard which pictures the hotel:
And here’s a photo taken in front of the hotel:
*****
One more shot of buildings lost. This is 18th Street looking west from Highland (across the street from today’s museums). We see a building which no longer exists, the Gem Theater, and the Lincoln Building:
Which can make it interesting to read news articles from the time of its opening, to understand its perception then.
The following article is from one of Kansas City’s black newspapers in 1923 (the city had four black newspapers at the time):
New Pleasure*****
Place Completed
At Cost of $60,000
Finest Materials Used To Build
New Features Into Vine
Street Playhouse
A modern, reinforced concrete and steel structure costing $60,000 will be thrown open into public when the Eblon Theatre opens its doors to patrons.
Only the finest materials have gone into the building and installation of the fixtures has been done by some of the most competent workmen and foremost firms in the city.
M. Huppe, owner of the Lincoln building and the Lincoln Furniture Company, put the stock of Lincoln Furniture at the disposal of the furnishers and decorators of the theatre. A number of articles to enhance the beauty of the interior of the house was purchased at the furniture company. The Lincoln Furniture company proved in this instance that it is able to care for all needs from the kitchen to the attic - and even to outfitting a theatre.
The Coles Theatre Supply company furnished all the theatre supplies in the New Eblon. A new silver screen, 12 by 16 feet, assures patrons of perfectly reproduced pictures. The screen is draped with heavy velour draperies on either side. In the projecting room on the balcony is top be found the last word in motion picture machinery. Two big Powers No. 6B projecting machines are guarantees against breakdowns and poor projection of the films. Power and light will be had from the latest model Westinghouse generator, which with other machinery, was installed by the Coles company.
A complete steam heating plant has been put in the theatre by the U.S. Engineering company, which also had charge of the plumbing installation. A big boiler and its auxiliaries stand as insurance against uneven heat. An air circulation system will provide a change of air constantly, preventing “stuffiness.”
All lumber and millwork that went into the building was furnished from the yard of the Dierks and Son Lumber company. the doors to the lobby, by the ticket taker’s cage and the balcony are all from the millwork department of this company.
Brick work on the structure was done by colored masons.
The general contractor for the building was the E.E. Williams company on Main street, which had general charge of construction and sublet the other contracts.
Nothing had been spared to make the new building one of the finest owned by colored people in the city. The theater has a full frontage on Vine street and extends a half block to the alley. It is but another step in Kansas City’s march to the front in the number and caliber of Negro business establishments maintained.
A photo which ran around the same time was headlined The Pioneer Builder and was identified as Homer (“Jap”) Eblon. The caption read:
The smiling proprietor of the Eblon Theater is here caught in characteristic pose. He smiled in his salad days as one of the popular young men, he smiled when he answered his country’s call and went to La Belle, France, and he smiles now that his hurculcean task is done of building a theater, complete from pit to dome, with every appointment in place, The temporary mixture of freight which has held back his placing the seats, annoys but does not overwhelm him.*****
The Eblon Theater opened in October, 1923. Homer “Jap” Eblon operated it from 1923 until moving with his family to California in 1928. He was killed in a car wreck in California in October, 1929. He was survived by his wife and daughter.
The building burned in an arson fire in 1984. Its braced facade still stands at 1822 Vine Street.
*****
The Street Hotel, at the corner of 18th Street and The Paseo, was the preeminent hotel for black patrons in segregated Kansas City. The original Blue Room nightclub and the popular Red Room restaurant were inside.
What did it look like?
Here’s a postcard which pictures the hotel:
And here’s a photo taken in front of the hotel:
*****
One more shot of buildings lost. This is 18th Street looking west from Highland (across the street from today’s museums). We see a building which no longer exists, the Gem Theater, and the Lincoln Building:
Monday, April 9, 2012
Jazz Fests
Kansas City, I present the competition.
Last week, the Detroit Jazz Festival, staged over the Labor Day weekend, announced a portion of their 2012 lineup (here): Sonny Rollins, Chick Corea, Pat Metheny, Wynton Marsalis, Wayne Shorter, Gary Burton, Randy Brecker, Joe Lovano, Lew Tabackin, Poncho Sanchez, Arturo O’Farrill, the Preservation Hall Jazz Band. And I’m just hitting the highlights.
This year’s Newport Jazz Festival (here), staged the first weekend in August, this year features Dr. John, Pat Metheny, Kurt Elling, Diane Reeves, Jason Moran, Bill Frisell, Joe Lovano, Jack DeJohnette, Christian McBride, Maria Schneider and the Preservation Hall Jazz Band.
The Monterey Jazz Festival, September 21st through 23rd (here), this year stars Tony Bennett, Esperanza Spaulding, Pat Metheny, Bill Frisell, Jack DeJohnette, Melody Gardot, Dee Dee Bridgewater, Christian McBride, Eddie Palmieri and Trombone Shorty.
The Atlanta Jazz Festival (here), staged over Memorial Day weekend, this year features Cyrus Chestnut, Kathleen Bertrand, Roy Ayers and Lionel Loueke.
The Jacksonville Jazz Festival, Memorial Day weekend in Jacksonville, Florida (here, here and here), this year headlines Sonny Rollins, Chick Corea with Stanley Clarke, the Jazz Crusaders, Madeline Peyroux, Trombone Shorty and Karrin Allyson.
The Chicago Jazz Festival will be held the same weekend as Detroit’s. Their lineup is not yet announced, but after looking at Detroit’s, I’m not sure who’s left.
It seems likely that the Kansas City area will again host a pair of jazz fests, Rhythm and Ribs at 18th and Vine and the Prairie Village Jazz Festival. Full disclosure: I’m helping Prairie Village’s jazz festival committee book talent for their September 8th event. Prairie Village’s fest is a small-budget day with a local focus, and no pretensions of competing with any lineup above.
Which leaves us Rhythm and Ribs as Kansas City’s major jazz event. I noted after last year’s festival that the city’s civic community has coalesced its resources behind this festival (here). This year, it’s time for the civic community to step up that support.
Last year’s Rhythm and Ribs headlined a jazz star, an elderly bluesman, and a once-popular funk group with baby-boomer name recognition. This year, that’s not good enough. Look at the lineups above. Sure, some of those festivals also include has-been pop groups which I didn’t bother to list. But you can get away with that when you’re selling an extravaganza of legitimate jazz stars.
I’m not proposing that this year’s Rhythm and Ribs should outshine long-established name festivals in Monterey or Newport. But for pity’s sake, why should we be partying in Jacksonville’s shadow? This is Kansas City. This is a city where jazz was born. This is our heritage, our international renown.
Last week, our friend Plastic Sax posted his annual plea for Kansas City’s jazz community to come together in a kumbaya moment to produce a major jazz event (here). He compared our more tepid jazz festivals to last week’s bigger and broader Middle of the Map music event in Kansas City.
One point of the comparison is solid: Middle of the Map secured a wide breadth of sponsorships to financially support their festival. That’s what it took to stage jazz festivals in Volker Park through the 1980s. Beer sponsorships, soft drink sponsorships, airlines, hotels, an ice cream brand, a retailer in Crown Center, an insurance company, American Express, they all contributed.
Success doesn’t require a jazz community kumbaya, because success means reaching beyond the jazz community. Success requires a dedicated group of people who want to do something for this city. It requires more time and energy than you’ll ever expect. And it requires Kansas City’s civic community stepping in with greater support.
That civic involvement can come from people with high level connections spearheading the festival and drawing on their own network of monied interests. It can come from a spirited leader inspiring civic excitement for the festival.
And it can come from civic leaders realizing that this is Kansas City. This is a city where jazz was born, this is our heritage, this is our international renown.
18th and Vine is where the civic community has chosen to anchor its jazz festival support, behind an event presented by the American Jazz Museum. This is the third year of the reborn festival. The economy is improving. This year, everyone needs to take the next step. The American Jazz Museum needs to assume the leadership that drives a bigger festival. And Kansas City’s civic leadership needs to understand the significance of that event and pull in broader support. Complacency only ignites a path to failure.
After all, wouldn’t it be monstrously embarrassing to Kansas City to see our jazz festival trumped by Jacksonville, Florida? Especially when I run this comparison:
Great jazz names who came out of Kansas City: Charlie Parker, Count Basie, Lester Young, Mary Lou Williams, Jay McShann, Big Joe Turner, Pete Johnson, Ben Webster, Buck Clayton, Jo Jones, Pat Metheny, Bobby Watson. That's for starters.
Great jazz names who came out of Jacksonville, Florida: Um, need a little help here.
Last week, the Detroit Jazz Festival, staged over the Labor Day weekend, announced a portion of their 2012 lineup (here): Sonny Rollins, Chick Corea, Pat Metheny, Wynton Marsalis, Wayne Shorter, Gary Burton, Randy Brecker, Joe Lovano, Lew Tabackin, Poncho Sanchez, Arturo O’Farrill, the Preservation Hall Jazz Band. And I’m just hitting the highlights.
This year’s Newport Jazz Festival (here), staged the first weekend in August, this year features Dr. John, Pat Metheny, Kurt Elling, Diane Reeves, Jason Moran, Bill Frisell, Joe Lovano, Jack DeJohnette, Christian McBride, Maria Schneider and the Preservation Hall Jazz Band.
The Monterey Jazz Festival, September 21st through 23rd (here), this year stars Tony Bennett, Esperanza Spaulding, Pat Metheny, Bill Frisell, Jack DeJohnette, Melody Gardot, Dee Dee Bridgewater, Christian McBride, Eddie Palmieri and Trombone Shorty.
The Atlanta Jazz Festival (here), staged over Memorial Day weekend, this year features Cyrus Chestnut, Kathleen Bertrand, Roy Ayers and Lionel Loueke.
The Jacksonville Jazz Festival, Memorial Day weekend in Jacksonville, Florida (here, here and here), this year headlines Sonny Rollins, Chick Corea with Stanley Clarke, the Jazz Crusaders, Madeline Peyroux, Trombone Shorty and Karrin Allyson.
The Chicago Jazz Festival will be held the same weekend as Detroit’s. Their lineup is not yet announced, but after looking at Detroit’s, I’m not sure who’s left.
It seems likely that the Kansas City area will again host a pair of jazz fests, Rhythm and Ribs at 18th and Vine and the Prairie Village Jazz Festival. Full disclosure: I’m helping Prairie Village’s jazz festival committee book talent for their September 8th event. Prairie Village’s fest is a small-budget day with a local focus, and no pretensions of competing with any lineup above.
Which leaves us Rhythm and Ribs as Kansas City’s major jazz event. I noted after last year’s festival that the city’s civic community has coalesced its resources behind this festival (here). This year, it’s time for the civic community to step up that support.
Last year’s Rhythm and Ribs headlined a jazz star, an elderly bluesman, and a once-popular funk group with baby-boomer name recognition. This year, that’s not good enough. Look at the lineups above. Sure, some of those festivals also include has-been pop groups which I didn’t bother to list. But you can get away with that when you’re selling an extravaganza of legitimate jazz stars.
I’m not proposing that this year’s Rhythm and Ribs should outshine long-established name festivals in Monterey or Newport. But for pity’s sake, why should we be partying in Jacksonville’s shadow? This is Kansas City. This is a city where jazz was born. This is our heritage, our international renown.
Last week, our friend Plastic Sax posted his annual plea for Kansas City’s jazz community to come together in a kumbaya moment to produce a major jazz event (here). He compared our more tepid jazz festivals to last week’s bigger and broader Middle of the Map music event in Kansas City.
One point of the comparison is solid: Middle of the Map secured a wide breadth of sponsorships to financially support their festival. That’s what it took to stage jazz festivals in Volker Park through the 1980s. Beer sponsorships, soft drink sponsorships, airlines, hotels, an ice cream brand, a retailer in Crown Center, an insurance company, American Express, they all contributed.
Success doesn’t require a jazz community kumbaya, because success means reaching beyond the jazz community. Success requires a dedicated group of people who want to do something for this city. It requires more time and energy than you’ll ever expect. And it requires Kansas City’s civic community stepping in with greater support.
That civic involvement can come from people with high level connections spearheading the festival and drawing on their own network of monied interests. It can come from a spirited leader inspiring civic excitement for the festival.
And it can come from civic leaders realizing that this is Kansas City. This is a city where jazz was born, this is our heritage, this is our international renown.
18th and Vine is where the civic community has chosen to anchor its jazz festival support, behind an event presented by the American Jazz Museum. This is the third year of the reborn festival. The economy is improving. This year, everyone needs to take the next step. The American Jazz Museum needs to assume the leadership that drives a bigger festival. And Kansas City’s civic leadership needs to understand the significance of that event and pull in broader support. Complacency only ignites a path to failure.
After all, wouldn’t it be monstrously embarrassing to Kansas City to see our jazz festival trumped by Jacksonville, Florida? Especially when I run this comparison:
Great jazz names who came out of Kansas City: Charlie Parker, Count Basie, Lester Young, Mary Lou Williams, Jay McShann, Big Joe Turner, Pete Johnson, Ben Webster, Buck Clayton, Jo Jones, Pat Metheny, Bobby Watson. That's for starters.
Great jazz names who came out of Jacksonville, Florida: Um, need a little help here.
Monday, April 2, 2012
This 'n That 'n Bill Caldwell
I didn’t know Bill Caldwell personally, but I knew his music. I loved it.
His saxophone immediately commanded your attention, then lifted you from your seat and carried you on a joyous, swinging ride. Don’t believe me? Listen to Bill’s solos on I’m Getting Sentimental Over You on 1993’s The Real Thing with Everette DeVan. A smile will break out on your face. I dare you to try to stop it. You can’t.
Back in my days of helping to organize jazz festivals, Bill was one of the hot young saxophonists in Kansas City. He moved to Branson to play in orchestras there for 14 years, and most recently taught in Wichita. But when he returned to KC and I had a chance to hear him play, I heard wonderful jazz.
Bill died of an apparent heart attack last week. He was 49 years young.
Here’s another test. Same CD, The Real Thing. Listen to Bill’s solo on It Could Happen to You. I dare you not to smile. Can’t suppress it, can you? The music is just too happy.
*****
I was talking to a friend last week, at The Blue Room. We used to run into each other regularly at Jardine’s .
Where do you go now, she asked. Take Five, in Leawood, is a favorite, I replied. She hadn’t been there. There was jazz last week at Nica’s on Southwest Boulevard, I noted. She knew about that but missed it. Well, there was a set at The Brick a week or two back. Or how about Mark Lowrey’s Tuesdays at Czar Bar? And there’s that place at 135th and Quivira.
We both sighed. It used to be so much easier to find jazz in Kansas City.
The last time I wrote about the loss of Jardine’s as a jazz club, some bemoaned they had read quite enough about the place. I understand the sentiment. The internet has been rife with speculation. And there’s plenty of outstanding jazz musicians in town who rarely played the joint.
But there’s plenty of outstanding jazz musicians in town who did play there. And the Jardine’s loss has impacted the local jazz scene more than I expected.
A couple of months ago, KCUR’s Sunday program KC Currents ran an excellent story on the state of Kanas City jazz (here). Our friend Plastic Sax quite presciently said in the story that, in light of the Jardine’s closing, it’s going to be more difficult and take more work to find jazz in Kansas City. I snorted a “harummph” at his crazed words.
But he was right.
Yes, The Blue Room is as vibrant as ever. Jazz fans are re-discovering The Majestic. Take Five is filling a suburban void. The Mutual Musicians Foundation remains a one-of-a-kind jazz experience on weekend late nights.
But none of those places showcase combos six or seven nights a week. And The Blue Room and The Majestic, while broadening their offerings, generally offer their regulars, just as Jardine’s did. The diversity another jazz club brought to the Kansas City jazz scene is now scattered throughout town.
Since early on in this blog, I’ve hand-slapped clubs for making their schedules difficult to uncover. Nobody wants to work to find their fun. Jazz schedules need to be delivered to our virtual doorstep. Jardine’s excelled at such promotion. But concise scheduling becomes impossible when acts are scattered one here, one there, from 119th Street to the Crossroads.
My friend and I co-commiserated at The Blue Room. We miss the second weekend shows, which started at 10:30 and ran to 1:30 in the morning. We miss a central spot where a select group of Kansas City jazz favorites could be found. I can’t speak from the musicians’ perspective, but from the fans’ perspective, there’s a hole in the Kansas City jazz community.
I didn’t expect that.
*****
So what are the odds of another jazz club filling the Jardine’s space? After all, it’s a location of proven jazz success. And now you can get in there by working directly with the property owners, American Century, without needing to buy the previous business.
But for now, there is a reason to approach the previous owner. Not for the Jardine’s name. The equity in that has substantially dissipated. Rather, for the 3 a.m. license on the space.
A 3 a.m. license can be a financial gold mine for a club. And outside of the downtown loop, today they are nearly impossible to come by in Kansas City. A space just off the Country Club Plaza with such a license holds exceptional appeal. Word is, the last owner is asking $20,000 for the business including the license. Is it worth that much? Without running the numbers a business plan requires, I don’t know.
But if it is, it is worth that much to more than just a jazz club. It’s worth it to a hip-hop club. It’s worth it to a country music club. If it’s worth that much, it’s worth it to anyone wanting to own a nightclub.
The only limitation is who American Century will allow as their neighbor.
His saxophone immediately commanded your attention, then lifted you from your seat and carried you on a joyous, swinging ride. Don’t believe me? Listen to Bill’s solos on I’m Getting Sentimental Over You on 1993’s The Real Thing with Everette DeVan. A smile will break out on your face. I dare you to try to stop it. You can’t.
Back in my days of helping to organize jazz festivals, Bill was one of the hot young saxophonists in Kansas City. He moved to Branson to play in orchestras there for 14 years, and most recently taught in Wichita. But when he returned to KC and I had a chance to hear him play, I heard wonderful jazz.
Bill died of an apparent heart attack last week. He was 49 years young.
Here’s another test. Same CD, The Real Thing. Listen to Bill’s solo on It Could Happen to You. I dare you not to smile. Can’t suppress it, can you? The music is just too happy.
*****
I was talking to a friend last week, at The Blue Room. We used to run into each other regularly at Jardine’s .
Where do you go now, she asked. Take Five, in Leawood, is a favorite, I replied. She hadn’t been there. There was jazz last week at Nica’s on Southwest Boulevard, I noted. She knew about that but missed it. Well, there was a set at The Brick a week or two back. Or how about Mark Lowrey’s Tuesdays at Czar Bar? And there’s that place at 135th and Quivira.
We both sighed. It used to be so much easier to find jazz in Kansas City.
The last time I wrote about the loss of Jardine’s as a jazz club, some bemoaned they had read quite enough about the place. I understand the sentiment. The internet has been rife with speculation. And there’s plenty of outstanding jazz musicians in town who rarely played the joint.
But there’s plenty of outstanding jazz musicians in town who did play there. And the Jardine’s loss has impacted the local jazz scene more than I expected.
A couple of months ago, KCUR’s Sunday program KC Currents ran an excellent story on the state of Kanas City jazz (here). Our friend Plastic Sax quite presciently said in the story that, in light of the Jardine’s closing, it’s going to be more difficult and take more work to find jazz in Kansas City. I snorted a “harummph” at his crazed words.
But he was right.
Yes, The Blue Room is as vibrant as ever. Jazz fans are re-discovering The Majestic. Take Five is filling a suburban void. The Mutual Musicians Foundation remains a one-of-a-kind jazz experience on weekend late nights.
But none of those places showcase combos six or seven nights a week. And The Blue Room and The Majestic, while broadening their offerings, generally offer their regulars, just as Jardine’s did. The diversity another jazz club brought to the Kansas City jazz scene is now scattered throughout town.
Since early on in this blog, I’ve hand-slapped clubs for making their schedules difficult to uncover. Nobody wants to work to find their fun. Jazz schedules need to be delivered to our virtual doorstep. Jardine’s excelled at such promotion. But concise scheduling becomes impossible when acts are scattered one here, one there, from 119th Street to the Crossroads.
My friend and I co-commiserated at The Blue Room. We miss the second weekend shows, which started at 10:30 and ran to 1:30 in the morning. We miss a central spot where a select group of Kansas City jazz favorites could be found. I can’t speak from the musicians’ perspective, but from the fans’ perspective, there’s a hole in the Kansas City jazz community.
I didn’t expect that.
*****
So what are the odds of another jazz club filling the Jardine’s space? After all, it’s a location of proven jazz success. And now you can get in there by working directly with the property owners, American Century, without needing to buy the previous business.
But for now, there is a reason to approach the previous owner. Not for the Jardine’s name. The equity in that has substantially dissipated. Rather, for the 3 a.m. license on the space.
A 3 a.m. license can be a financial gold mine for a club. And outside of the downtown loop, today they are nearly impossible to come by in Kansas City. A space just off the Country Club Plaza with such a license holds exceptional appeal. Word is, the last owner is asking $20,000 for the business including the license. Is it worth that much? Without running the numbers a business plan requires, I don’t know.
But if it is, it is worth that much to more than just a jazz club. It’s worth it to a hip-hop club. It’s worth it to a country music club. If it’s worth that much, it’s worth it to anyone wanting to own a nightclub.
The only limitation is who American Century will allow as their neighbor.
Monday, March 26, 2012
We Didn't Have Another Way
Here, it wasn’t a question of waiting for a hero. We’d waited for decades. The visionaries had no money. Those with resources failed to see value in the risk, or lacked the passion to lead what we all knew was right. So here, it happened the only way it could.
The Atlantic has followed up their excellent story on Kansas City’s 18th and Vine District with a visit to Memphis and a thriving Beale Street (here). Beale Street has grown into a premiere tourist mecca, mostly through private development, spearheaded by developer John Elkington. Meanwhile, 18th and Vine, spearheaded by city government, has not.
Elkington argues, “You've got to have somebody who's saying, ‘Hey, I'm gonna risk everything ’cause I believe in what we’re doing….’ Government cannot do these projects. Government can do infrastructure, they can help with regulations, they can make sure that the building department makes life easier, they can help with zoning. There's a lot of things they can do. Anything more than that is really counterproductive because you want to be on the edge all the time in these developments, and government is always politically correct.”
He adds, referencing 18th and Vine, “That should be one of the great places in America. But I think they allowed government to really say, ‘Okay, we’re gonna solve this problem. Here’s what we're gonna do: We’re gonna recreate this.’ Can't do that. You gotta get people to take risks, as we did, and then what happens is if it’s successful then other people will come in and take measured risks too.”
He’s right.
And he’s wrong.
What worked in Memphis would not have worked in Kansas City. We lacked one critical element. And without that element, had city government not stepped in, 18th and Vine would still be a decrepit neighborhood of grassy lots and history mostly boarded tight.
Because 18th and Vine never inspired a private visionary with the resources to take risks. 18th and Vine never had a John Elkington.
But then, Kansas City approached its historic district from a different direction. Kansas City’s primary passion was to build an International Jazz Hall of Fame.
Organizations had been devoted to that goal since 1964. In 1969, Kansas City Jazz, Inc. explored establishing a Jazz Hall of Fame near 12th Street and The Paseo. But, as one organizer conceded to the Kansas City Times 15 years later, “We had lots of people with ideas but nobody with money.”
In 1979, the Music Director and Conductor of the Kansas City Philharmonic advocated a Jazz Hall of Fame in Union Station. He got the assistant to the director of the National Endowment of the Arts involved. What he didn’t get was money.
Eddie Baker, president of the Charlie Parker Memorial Foundation, argued passionately for an International Jazz Hall of Fame in the former Jewish Community Center building at 82nd and Holmes when it became available in 1983. The Kansas City Council responded by passing a resolution to establish a Jazz Hall of Fame in the 18th and Vine District. Eddie responded by accepting a check from Count Basie Enterprises for $10,000 for a Jazz Hall of Fame in the former Jewish Community Center building.
The chairman of the then-newly established Kansas City Jazz Commission responded by telling The Kansas City Star, “I think it ought to be where there’s some semblance of jazz history, and 18th and Vine certainly has that. The funny thing is, here’s all these people arguing over where the location should be and nobody has identified the money that will be required to do this.”
The Jazz Commission was in turmoil when I was named chairman in 1987. Yet, a City Council member confided that a then-recently defeated tax increase would have been used, in part, for a Jazz Hall of Fame, though the public wasn’t told. And in my first meeting with the Mayor, the Mayor emphasized the need for Kansas City to be home to a Jazz Hall of Fame. He asked me to meet with Emanuel Cleaver, then a City Councilman representing the Fifth Council District.
In 1989, after I left the Jazz Commission, Cleaver introduced a capital improvements plan which included money for a Jazz Hall of Fame in the 18th and Vine Historic District. As City Councilman and then as Mayor, Cleaver shepherded the development through to its grand opening in 1997.
That’s a third of a century after a group first discussed the possibility of establishing a Jazz Hall of Fame in Kansas City.
Elkington is right. An individual with resources, willing to risk everything because he believes in it, will drive a development with the necessary edge. But Kansas City didn’t have anyone like that. Maybe we didn’t because the bickering scared them all away. Or maybe we didn’t have anyone like that because in Kansas City, we just didn’t.
And The Atlantic’s writer is right. The 18th and Vine development we got – incomplete, but as far as the city’s money could take it – lacks the critical mass to thrive as a destination the way Beale Street thrives.
There’s the downside of how we did it.
But I remember what was there before. I remember the trash-strewn fields at 18th Street and The Paseo and at 18th and Woodland. I remember the buildings across from the Gem Theater which looked like they may or may not still be standing tomorrow. I remember the shack with barbeque (terrific food but questionable health standards).
I remember a decrepit neighborhood of grassy lots and history mostly boarded tight.
The historic Cherry Blossom nightclub burned in an arson fire in 1984. The city started to tear down historic Lucille’s nightclub in 1987. Both were privately owned. There were our visionaries.
We couldn’t wait any longer for a hero.
The Atlantic has followed up their excellent story on Kansas City’s 18th and Vine District with a visit to Memphis and a thriving Beale Street (here). Beale Street has grown into a premiere tourist mecca, mostly through private development, spearheaded by developer John Elkington. Meanwhile, 18th and Vine, spearheaded by city government, has not.
Elkington argues, “You've got to have somebody who's saying, ‘Hey, I'm gonna risk everything ’cause I believe in what we’re doing….’ Government cannot do these projects. Government can do infrastructure, they can help with regulations, they can make sure that the building department makes life easier, they can help with zoning. There's a lot of things they can do. Anything more than that is really counterproductive because you want to be on the edge all the time in these developments, and government is always politically correct.”
He adds, referencing 18th and Vine, “That should be one of the great places in America. But I think they allowed government to really say, ‘Okay, we’re gonna solve this problem. Here’s what we're gonna do: We’re gonna recreate this.’ Can't do that. You gotta get people to take risks, as we did, and then what happens is if it’s successful then other people will come in and take measured risks too.”
He’s right.
And he’s wrong.
What worked in Memphis would not have worked in Kansas City. We lacked one critical element. And without that element, had city government not stepped in, 18th and Vine would still be a decrepit neighborhood of grassy lots and history mostly boarded tight.
Because 18th and Vine never inspired a private visionary with the resources to take risks. 18th and Vine never had a John Elkington.
But then, Kansas City approached its historic district from a different direction. Kansas City’s primary passion was to build an International Jazz Hall of Fame.
Organizations had been devoted to that goal since 1964. In 1969, Kansas City Jazz, Inc. explored establishing a Jazz Hall of Fame near 12th Street and The Paseo. But, as one organizer conceded to the Kansas City Times 15 years later, “We had lots of people with ideas but nobody with money.”
In 1979, the Music Director and Conductor of the Kansas City Philharmonic advocated a Jazz Hall of Fame in Union Station. He got the assistant to the director of the National Endowment of the Arts involved. What he didn’t get was money.
Eddie Baker, president of the Charlie Parker Memorial Foundation, argued passionately for an International Jazz Hall of Fame in the former Jewish Community Center building at 82nd and Holmes when it became available in 1983. The Kansas City Council responded by passing a resolution to establish a Jazz Hall of Fame in the 18th and Vine District. Eddie responded by accepting a check from Count Basie Enterprises for $10,000 for a Jazz Hall of Fame in the former Jewish Community Center building.
The chairman of the then-newly established Kansas City Jazz Commission responded by telling The Kansas City Star, “I think it ought to be where there’s some semblance of jazz history, and 18th and Vine certainly has that. The funny thing is, here’s all these people arguing over where the location should be and nobody has identified the money that will be required to do this.”
The Jazz Commission was in turmoil when I was named chairman in 1987. Yet, a City Council member confided that a then-recently defeated tax increase would have been used, in part, for a Jazz Hall of Fame, though the public wasn’t told. And in my first meeting with the Mayor, the Mayor emphasized the need for Kansas City to be home to a Jazz Hall of Fame. He asked me to meet with Emanuel Cleaver, then a City Councilman representing the Fifth Council District.
In 1989, after I left the Jazz Commission, Cleaver introduced a capital improvements plan which included money for a Jazz Hall of Fame in the 18th and Vine Historic District. As City Councilman and then as Mayor, Cleaver shepherded the development through to its grand opening in 1997.
That’s a third of a century after a group first discussed the possibility of establishing a Jazz Hall of Fame in Kansas City.
Elkington is right. An individual with resources, willing to risk everything because he believes in it, will drive a development with the necessary edge. But Kansas City didn’t have anyone like that. Maybe we didn’t because the bickering scared them all away. Or maybe we didn’t have anyone like that because in Kansas City, we just didn’t.
And The Atlantic’s writer is right. The 18th and Vine development we got – incomplete, but as far as the city’s money could take it – lacks the critical mass to thrive as a destination the way Beale Street thrives.
There’s the downside of how we did it.
But I remember what was there before. I remember the trash-strewn fields at 18th Street and The Paseo and at 18th and Woodland. I remember the buildings across from the Gem Theater which looked like they may or may not still be standing tomorrow. I remember the shack with barbeque (terrific food but questionable health standards).
I remember a decrepit neighborhood of grassy lots and history mostly boarded tight.
The historic Cherry Blossom nightclub burned in an arson fire in 1984. The city started to tear down historic Lucille’s nightclub in 1987. Both were privately owned. There were our visionaries.
We couldn’t wait any longer for a hero.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Transforming the Paseo YMCA
It was 92 years ago last month. Nobody noticed.
On Friday, February 13th, 1920, a dozen men, some owners of black baseball teams and others prominent black sportswriters, met at the Street Hotel, at the corner of 18th Street and The Paseo, and the Paseo YMCA, on the west side of The Paseo between 18th and 19th Streets. Throughout the day, team owners discussed their goals. Then, throughout the night, Elisha Scott, a black attorney from Topeka (whose sons would later argue for desegregation in Brown v. Board of Education), with the sportswriters, drafted the constitution for the National Association of Colored Professional Base Ball Clubs, operating the Negro National League, Inc.
On Saturday, February 20th, 1920, in the Paseo YMCA, the team owners adopted that constitution. The Negro Baseball Leagues were established.
The Negro Leagues were a tightly intertwined part of the culture which also birthed Kansas City jazz. Count Basie discussed attending Kansas City Monarchs games on Sundays “because that’s where everybody was going on a Sunday afternoon.” The Blue Room’s bartender said of the Monarchs, “They were the life of Kansas City in the Negro vicinity.”
I wrote about this two years ago. Much of what follows echoes that post. It warrants updating.
Two years ago, I applauded barbecue baron Ollie Gates’s commitment to raise money to save the Paseo YMCA and rehabilitate it as the Buck O’Neil Education and Research Center. The building then faced The Paseo with windows and doors missing or boarded and the fire escape dangling from its side. This building is an integral part of the 18th and Vine Historic District. The legendary Cherry Blossom nightclub stood just a block away. Yet, two years ago, the Paseo YMCA sat dilapidated, another monument to the neglect of history.
Don’t underestimate this building’s significance. The Negro Baseball Leagues showcased some of history’s greatest athletes. But more, they fed the integration of baseball. And the integration of baseball is commonly cited as a key step towards the acceptance of integration in America.
And the charter creating the Negro Baseball Leagues was signed in here, in this red brick building facing The Paseo, on Saturday, February 20th, 1920.
Now look at the building today.
New windows and repaired doors seal it from the elements. The fire escape is painted, repaired and re-attached. The exterior is clean. A small park on the south side celebrates Buck O’Neil and the league born inside.
I don’t know what’s left to do inside. Two years ago, The Kansas City Star reported that $17 million was needed to completely rehab the building. Organizers started with a $1 million gift from Julia Irene Kauffman, daughter of KC Royals founder Ewing Kauffman. I suspect there’s a long way to go. But the transformation so far is remarkable. You look at the building today and you know it is going to survive.
But that’s not enough. I’ve maintained for decades that the Paseo YMCA is one of the three most historically important buildings in the Kansas City area. The other two are the Mutual Musicians Foundation, also in the 18th and Vine District, and Harry Truman’s home in Independence. Those other two sites have won recognition as National Historic Landmarks. The Paseo YMCA has not.
Among the criteria evaluated for such recognition, according to the federal government (here), is, “The quality of national significance…ascribed to…sites, buildings, structures…that possess exceptional value or quality in illustrating or interpreting the heritage of the United States….”
And, “That [the sites] are associated with events that have made a significant contribution to…the broad national patterns of United States history….”
And, “That [the sites] represent some great idea or ideal of the American people….”
What could be a site of more national significance, or a place with more value in illustrating our heritage, or a building representing a greater American ideal, than one where there was laid so important a cornerstone on the path to equality?
The rehabilitation that has begun on the Paseo YMCA is stunning. Now start the process of officially recognizing the building as the national landmark it became 92 years ago last month.
*****
Facts and quotes in the first few paragraphs are from The Kansas City Monarchs: Champions of Black Baseball by Janet Bruce, University Press of Kansas, 1985.
On Friday, February 13th, 1920, a dozen men, some owners of black baseball teams and others prominent black sportswriters, met at the Street Hotel, at the corner of 18th Street and The Paseo, and the Paseo YMCA, on the west side of The Paseo between 18th and 19th Streets. Throughout the day, team owners discussed their goals. Then, throughout the night, Elisha Scott, a black attorney from Topeka (whose sons would later argue for desegregation in Brown v. Board of Education), with the sportswriters, drafted the constitution for the National Association of Colored Professional Base Ball Clubs, operating the Negro National League, Inc.
On Saturday, February 20th, 1920, in the Paseo YMCA, the team owners adopted that constitution. The Negro Baseball Leagues were established.
 |
| The Paseo YMCA, circa 1925 |
I wrote about this two years ago. Much of what follows echoes that post. It warrants updating.
Two years ago, I applauded barbecue baron Ollie Gates’s commitment to raise money to save the Paseo YMCA and rehabilitate it as the Buck O’Neil Education and Research Center. The building then faced The Paseo with windows and doors missing or boarded and the fire escape dangling from its side. This building is an integral part of the 18th and Vine Historic District. The legendary Cherry Blossom nightclub stood just a block away. Yet, two years ago, the Paseo YMCA sat dilapidated, another monument to the neglect of history.
Don’t underestimate this building’s significance. The Negro Baseball Leagues showcased some of history’s greatest athletes. But more, they fed the integration of baseball. And the integration of baseball is commonly cited as a key step towards the acceptance of integration in America.
And the charter creating the Negro Baseball Leagues was signed in here, in this red brick building facing The Paseo, on Saturday, February 20th, 1920.
Now look at the building today.
 |
| The Paseo YMCA today |
I don’t know what’s left to do inside. Two years ago, The Kansas City Star reported that $17 million was needed to completely rehab the building. Organizers started with a $1 million gift from Julia Irene Kauffman, daughter of KC Royals founder Ewing Kauffman. I suspect there’s a long way to go. But the transformation so far is remarkable. You look at the building today and you know it is going to survive.
 |
| The Paseo YMCA today, from the south |
Among the criteria evaluated for such recognition, according to the federal government (here), is, “The quality of national significance…ascribed to…sites, buildings, structures…that possess exceptional value or quality in illustrating or interpreting the heritage of the United States….”
And, “That [the sites] are associated with events that have made a significant contribution to…the broad national patterns of United States history….”
And, “That [the sites] represent some great idea or ideal of the American people….”
What could be a site of more national significance, or a place with more value in illustrating our heritage, or a building representing a greater American ideal, than one where there was laid so important a cornerstone on the path to equality?
The rehabilitation that has begun on the Paseo YMCA is stunning. Now start the process of officially recognizing the building as the national landmark it became 92 years ago last month.
*****
Facts and quotes in the first few paragraphs are from The Kansas City Monarchs: Champions of Black Baseball by Janet Bruce, University Press of Kansas, 1985.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Kansas City in the Early '30s, Part 2
On Big Joe Turner and Pete Johnson:
“I didn’t actually get to Kansas City until late March or early April [1936]…and I’ll never forget the first night. I went to the [Reno Club]. Basie had a show at eight o’clock at night, eight p.m. to four a.m. They did three shows a night. There were about four chorus girls, there was a whorehouse upstairs….
“So there I was at eight o’clock and I stayed until four that night. Then afterwards Basie said to me, ‘Come on, John, I’m gonna take you to the Sunset.’ I had never heard Pete [Johnson] and Joe [Turner] at that time. Joe Turner was singing at the bar and Pete was in the back room playing, and while Pete was playing Joe would be singing. A room apart, and it was unbelievable. Joe’s invention was just endless. One blues could take a good half hour or forty minutes if it was slow and twenty minutes if it was fast…. He was just marvelous….”
— John Hammond, Goin’ to Kansas City
“Sometimes I used to go by and listen to Joe Turner singing the blues. The first time I met Joe he was working on Independence Avenue. He was the bartender down there in a basement joint where they used to serve whiskey by the dipper. Big Joe was the singing bartender. He would sing his numbers right behind the bar while he was mixing drinks. He’d be hollering the blues and dipping that good taste, and also taking special care of all the cats he knew. He was in charge of that whole basement down there.
“Later on, he was working for Piney Brown at Piney Brown’s Sunset on Twelfth Street with Pete Johnson, playing piano with Murl Johnson, and sometimes Baby Lovett on drums. And they were something. When I heard him that first time, I said to myself, Jesus, I never heard nothing like this guy. He was the blues singer in that town. Anybody who came to Kansas City talking about singing some blues had to go listen to him.”
— Count Basie, Good Morning Blues
“The first time I came to Kansas City I’d never been exposed to anything like was happening then. Joe Turner and Pete Johnson and [drummer] Murl Johnson were working together [and] I would go down…the street and listen to Joe sing.
“I had no idea that sometimes he’d be making up the words as he’d go along. The thing that really amazed me was that Joe would keep singing for thirty or forty minutes straight through…. Between times he’d tell Pete to roll ’em [play a boogie-woogie piano solo], and Pete would roll ’em on the piano for maybe ten minutes, then Joe would come back [and] sing ten or fifteen minutes. You know, they’d play one tune and it’d last forty-five, fifty minutes and that was the set. A one-tune set…. I’d never seen anything like that.
“I didn’t know when to go to bed. I was afraid I’d miss something.”
— Jay McShann, Goin’ to Kansas City
On Count Basie and Andy Kirk:
“Basie’s band built up their popularity on socializing. I mean the big following they had in and around Kansas City. But that whole band didn’t believe in going out with steady black people. They’d head straight for the pimps and prostitutes and hang out with them. Those people were like a great advertisement for Basie. They didn’t dig Andy Kirk. They said he was too uppity. But Basie was down there, lying in the gutter, getting drunk with them. He’d have patches on his pants and everything. All of his band was like that.
“Andy Kirk was winning all the battles, but he didn’t have the right people to give him a build-up. His was the most popular band in Kansas City, but Basie ended up with...John Hammond behind him. You think Kirk’s band didn’t have the drive of Basie’s, but I’d put it a different way. Some bands – and I could name others in Kansas City – had too much orchestration. When you listen to the original Basie records, they sound so exciting. Sometimes it wasn’t really the solo that made it exciting, but the riff backing it up that Buster Smith, Herschel [Evans], Jack Washington, or any of the four guys in the sax section set. That also left the soloist free. The horns weren’t fighting to make that note on time, like in those real experienced bands of Duke, Lunceford and Andy Kirk. One band that went to New York and didn’t really make it, because it didn’t do enough ad lib playing, was Harlan Leonard’s. That was why Jay McShann’s band outblew them every time. Jay would give us the first chorus then turn us a-loose.”
— Gene Ramey, The World of Count Basie
On Mary Lou Williams:
“…Sometimes I used to sit in at the Subway Club. I remember working down there with a drummer…. But I didn’t hang around there too often, because the Subway also used to be one of Mary Lou Williams’s stopping-off places, and I always used to get out of her way. Anytime she was in the neighborhood, I used to find myself another little territory, because Mary Lou was tearing everybody up.”
— Count Basie, Good Morning Blues
“[Kansas City] was such a great city for the music, when anyone visited they always stayed! They never left. That’s where I met Thelonious Monk, and Joe Smith, the great trumpet player. Fletcher Henderson stayed there, married a girl. It was just so joyous to go out every night, around seven o’clock and jam and play the piano and mingle with people all [through the] morning.”
— Mary Lou Williams, Goin’ to Kansas City
“I didn’t actually get to Kansas City until late March or early April [1936]…and I’ll never forget the first night. I went to the [Reno Club]. Basie had a show at eight o’clock at night, eight p.m. to four a.m. They did three shows a night. There were about four chorus girls, there was a whorehouse upstairs….
“So there I was at eight o’clock and I stayed until four that night. Then afterwards Basie said to me, ‘Come on, John, I’m gonna take you to the Sunset.’ I had never heard Pete [Johnson] and Joe [Turner] at that time. Joe Turner was singing at the bar and Pete was in the back room playing, and while Pete was playing Joe would be singing. A room apart, and it was unbelievable. Joe’s invention was just endless. One blues could take a good half hour or forty minutes if it was slow and twenty minutes if it was fast…. He was just marvelous….”
— John Hammond, Goin’ to Kansas City
“Sometimes I used to go by and listen to Joe Turner singing the blues. The first time I met Joe he was working on Independence Avenue. He was the bartender down there in a basement joint where they used to serve whiskey by the dipper. Big Joe was the singing bartender. He would sing his numbers right behind the bar while he was mixing drinks. He’d be hollering the blues and dipping that good taste, and also taking special care of all the cats he knew. He was in charge of that whole basement down there.
“Later on, he was working for Piney Brown at Piney Brown’s Sunset on Twelfth Street with Pete Johnson, playing piano with Murl Johnson, and sometimes Baby Lovett on drums. And they were something. When I heard him that first time, I said to myself, Jesus, I never heard nothing like this guy. He was the blues singer in that town. Anybody who came to Kansas City talking about singing some blues had to go listen to him.”
— Count Basie, Good Morning Blues
“The first time I came to Kansas City I’d never been exposed to anything like was happening then. Joe Turner and Pete Johnson and [drummer] Murl Johnson were working together [and] I would go down…the street and listen to Joe sing.
“I had no idea that sometimes he’d be making up the words as he’d go along. The thing that really amazed me was that Joe would keep singing for thirty or forty minutes straight through…. Between times he’d tell Pete to roll ’em [play a boogie-woogie piano solo], and Pete would roll ’em on the piano for maybe ten minutes, then Joe would come back [and] sing ten or fifteen minutes. You know, they’d play one tune and it’d last forty-five, fifty minutes and that was the set. A one-tune set…. I’d never seen anything like that.
“I didn’t know when to go to bed. I was afraid I’d miss something.”
— Jay McShann, Goin’ to Kansas City
On Count Basie and Andy Kirk:
“Basie’s band built up their popularity on socializing. I mean the big following they had in and around Kansas City. But that whole band didn’t believe in going out with steady black people. They’d head straight for the pimps and prostitutes and hang out with them. Those people were like a great advertisement for Basie. They didn’t dig Andy Kirk. They said he was too uppity. But Basie was down there, lying in the gutter, getting drunk with them. He’d have patches on his pants and everything. All of his band was like that.
“Andy Kirk was winning all the battles, but he didn’t have the right people to give him a build-up. His was the most popular band in Kansas City, but Basie ended up with...John Hammond behind him. You think Kirk’s band didn’t have the drive of Basie’s, but I’d put it a different way. Some bands – and I could name others in Kansas City – had too much orchestration. When you listen to the original Basie records, they sound so exciting. Sometimes it wasn’t really the solo that made it exciting, but the riff backing it up that Buster Smith, Herschel [Evans], Jack Washington, or any of the four guys in the sax section set. That also left the soloist free. The horns weren’t fighting to make that note on time, like in those real experienced bands of Duke, Lunceford and Andy Kirk. One band that went to New York and didn’t really make it, because it didn’t do enough ad lib playing, was Harlan Leonard’s. That was why Jay McShann’s band outblew them every time. Jay would give us the first chorus then turn us a-loose.”
— Gene Ramey, The World of Count Basie
On Mary Lou Williams:
“…Sometimes I used to sit in at the Subway Club. I remember working down there with a drummer…. But I didn’t hang around there too often, because the Subway also used to be one of Mary Lou Williams’s stopping-off places, and I always used to get out of her way. Anytime she was in the neighborhood, I used to find myself another little territory, because Mary Lou was tearing everybody up.”
— Count Basie, Good Morning Blues
“[Kansas City] was such a great city for the music, when anyone visited they always stayed! They never left. That’s where I met Thelonious Monk, and Joe Smith, the great trumpet player. Fletcher Henderson stayed there, married a girl. It was just so joyous to go out every night, around seven o’clock and jam and play the piano and mingle with people all [through the] morning.”
— Mary Lou Williams, Goin’ to Kansas City
Monday, March 5, 2012
In Lieu of 1000 Words: Benny Golson at The Blue Room
If you know jazz, you know his compositions: Killer Joe, Along Came Betty, I Remember Clifford. And even at age 83, he bounces onto the stage like some musician just starting his career. But then he tells you stories about childhood friends, like John Coltrane, and he starts to play, and you know you are hearing a jazz legend.
Benny Golson took The Blue Room stage Saturday night, February 25th. And, with Sharp Radway on piano, Jim Anderson on bass and Kansas City’s Tommy Ruskin on drums, he took The Blue Room. A standing room only audience hung on every word – Benny tells you stories from his past between songs – and on every note. Because we were in the presence of jazz history.
Here’s how being in the presence of jazz history looked. As always, clicking on a photo should open a larger version of it.
Benny Golson took The Blue Room stage Saturday night, February 25th. And, with Sharp Radway on piano, Jim Anderson on bass and Kansas City’s Tommy Ruskin on drums, he took The Blue Room. A standing room only audience hung on every word – Benny tells you stories from his past between songs – and on every note. Because we were in the presence of jazz history.
Here’s how being in the presence of jazz history looked. As always, clicking on a photo should open a larger version of it.
Benny Golson
Benny Golson's quartet at The Blue Room. Left to right: Sharp Radway, piano, Jim Anderson, bass, Tommy Ruskin, drums, Benny Golson, saxophone.
Benny Golson on sax
Sharp Radway on piano
Benny Golson talks about his friend John Coltrane
Jim Anderson on bass
Benny Golson blows
Tommy Ruskin first drummed for Marilyn Maye fifty years ago this year. He's still drumming for the best in jazz.
Benny Golson talks
Bass, drums and sax
Benny Golson in The Blue Room
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