Faleceu em 07 de junho de 2009, um grande musico, cantor, que cativou-me pela sensibilidade em que sempre mostrou-se em seus CD's ou DVD's. Kenny Rankin foi quem me mostrou o talento de nossa Rosinha(Rosa Passos). Segue uma de suas ultimas entrevistas.
Kenny Rankin: From the Heart Kenny Rankin June 9, 2009
By R.J.DeLuke
Kenny Rankin died of lung cancer on June 7th, 2009. This interview was conducted in July 2002.
He sings with a fluid ease, whether it's a standard like "The Very Thought of You," the Beatles "Blackbird," a Latin-flavored "Berimbau," or his own "In the Name of Love." His soft voice caresses the most delicate phrases and gallops at fast tempos. But always, there is the twist of a phrase, taking a line somewhere unexpected, but inspired; a harmony tossed in that gives the song a lift, a tug here or there, a new way of showing you what the lyric is about. He's an interpreter whose brushes are dipped in passion and feeling and beauty.
He's Kenny Rankin, a treasure for over three decades. If he isn't often mentioned in the discussion of classic singers, it's not because he lacks the talent. Maybe it's because he's hard to categorize. He has a fondness for the great standards and can play a jazz room, but he has played folk and rock gigs as well. When it comes down to it, categories don't matter. Rankin quotes the oft-repeated Duke Ellintonism that there's only two types of music: good and bad.
"I'm just a singer. And I can sing anything that touches my heart," says Rankin in his mellow tenor tone. "And I think anybody can. If it touches you, it moves you. You're human. You're real. It stirs a passion. You become compassionate for whatever the song is being written about, sung about; spoken about... I can sing 'Blackbird,' I can sing 'Round Midnight.' I can sing 'Billie's Blues.' I can sing 'My Baby Just Cares For Me.' And I can sing that, and friggin' mean it. Because I've been there. Done that. I've got the T-shirt. You know what I mean?"
Listen to his albums over the years and you know he's right. Kenny Rankin, if nothing else, is passionate about his art. He's about to unveil the latest—very worthy—documentation of his musical journey. A Song For You will be released on the Verve label in August, produced by Tommy LiPuma and Al Schmitt. It's his first collaboration with those giants of the recording industry and he's excited about it. He should be.
The tunes on A Song for You are those that have been around, even a couple he's recorded before. But don't expect "Round Midnight" to sound like the version on Because of You, nor "I've Just Seen a Face" to sound like the rendition on the live disc from New York City's Bottom Line. The disc is fresh, heartfelt, and full of expression. It's Rankinesque, damn it.
Rankin jumped into a music career at a young age, signing with Decca as a teenager after a brief encounter with an agent who recognized his talent right away. He admits singing has always come natural to him. And he's pretty much always done things his own way. A conversation with Rankin is a free-flowing dialog about music and art, zest for both music and life and compassion. His eloquent dialogue is laced with humility and humor. And it's genuine. Like his art. Rankin is a person with everything in perspective. That shows up in his work.
"I've said this before, but I think it's worth repeating, because I think it explains it," he says in his casual, unassuming manner. "When I was born and was a kid, I was blessed with this gift of music. Because it came so easily, I thought what I did was who I was. Most of my career I thought that. Not consciously, but I thought that. Because being appreciated and acknowledged is a very intoxicating thing. It's very heady. Over the years I've come to understand that what I do is not who I am. Although I love my job, I'm not my work.
"The gift that's been given to me, of ability, I bring that to the work. So it's about the work. Which takes all the pressure off, and it comes back to me inside as an expression, as passion. As compassion for whoever's being spoken about. Then when I bring it on the stage in a concert setting, it's about—not me—it's about the audience, who've invited me into their evening. And given me the opportunity to share what I've discovered.
"So it's a joyful noise. It's a union of two energies; of my own and the audience; which gives rise to this wonderful experience that we all share. That I'm delivering it is kind of secondary, although I'm very honored to be able to do that, and grateful to be able to do that. And I'm having the time of my life. I'm having more fun. This is one of the easiest recordings I've ever made and had the pleasure of being involved in... Since what I do is not who I am, I'm out of the way, so there's really no obstacles in that sense. What's coming up is just a natural flow of ability. That's pretty much it."
Sounds easy. Isn't. But Rankin has a wealth of natural ability that has helped him put across the music his fans have loved for decades. Whether A Song For You brings in droves of new fans isn't the point. Creating the art is the means to a creative end. In the ear of the behearer, as it were.
"I listened to Sinatra and Mathis and Torme. I don't really listen to them, but I've heard them. It's more like the song," he says. "What is done with the song. I never took it apart. I never diagnosed it. I never did a biopsy on anyone or anything in music. What happens is, I have an experience. I have this feeling. I can relate to this, that or the other thing. Let me express my view of it. That's sort of what I do. I'm sort of an organic kind of guy."
Rankin grew up in New York City's Washington Heights neighborhood, which he said was a mix of various Latin cultures. Growing up wasn't easy there, and he found acceptance in music. Specifically, he says, the ice broke in the fourth grade when his teacher, Isabel Pringle, had him sing "Oh Holy Night," for a school Christmas play. After singing it, "she came over and patted me on the head and said, 'Kenneth, that was lovely.' And she sent me on the path of music that I find myself on today. Word for word, that's what happened."
"And I never did homework again," he chuckled. "I became consumed with singing and music. Because I found something, or something found me, where I could get that pat on the head. Everybody wants to be loved. This was my vehicle to that end."
The rest was easy—almost too easy, Rankin acknowledges.
"What happened was, I was 16, and I kept hocking my mother about taking singing lessons. What happened was we went downtown one day to 57th Street, and I auditioned for this guy named Al Seigel for $10. He said, 'OK, I'll teach you.' The next week, he took me over to see a guy named Bobby Brenner at MCA, the agency. By the next week he was at Decca Records and signed me on the spot.
"They gave me a stack of songs and told me to pick four. They didn't tell me what to do. They made one suggestion, 'Itsy Bitsy, Teenie, Weenie, Yellow Polka Dot Bikini.' I said, I don't know about that. I don't like the beach. I don't like seaweed on my feet. Even at that age, I didn't know if I can get behind singing about clothes. So we didn't pick that one. That was the beginning of my recording career."
"What did I know?" he says, bemused by the whole situation. "I was just so happy. Of course after that, I'm walking down the street with my mom, looking at the Cadillacs, saying we're going to get one of those. Big dreams, you know. Expectations. They wind up to be resentments under construction," he chortles at the memory.
Rankin never did study the works of great improvisational singers. Instead, he followed his own inner voice. But in 1960, he met his main musical influence in the person of Laura Nyro, singer-songwriter highly regarded among musicians in New York City who came up in that era. Her career blossomed to national prominence.
"As I look back, she profoundly changed my musical life, and affected my musical life to this day, and always will," he says fondly. "She was probably the one musician that impacted my creativity more than anyone or anything else. She was deep; she was dark; she was light; she was the spectrum of passion. When we met in Greenwich Village, we immediately fell in love with each other, in that linear way. We were so friend-mates. I drew from her so much of how to sing."
"I never studied her. I'm a lazy guy, I don't study. I never did," he laughs. "I'm kind of lazy in that way, but I absorb. And it became part of my soul. And we came from the same place, which is why we were such kindred spirits. We came from that same groove of music and we heard the same things."
Rankin won't say how old he is. "I'm too old to die young. Leave it at that," he says with a warm laugh. "I've gotten older, but I haven't grown up yet." Good enough. He's in a great place, enjoying his art. He's wise enough now to know they aren't one and the same. We should all be so lucky.
"I get the opportunity to live my life and what a really interesting thing, when you get out of the way and just observe your place in it and be glad you're still standing. My big attitude today? I'm glad I survived myself. That's it."
"I'm still viable and still making music. Making people happy. I get these e-mails sometimes at my website that really just fill me with joy and love that I've made a change in people's lives or the songs that I've selected have affected people in such a way that they tell me. There's no better reward, better prize."
Rankin spoke about his new music and his writing with All About Jazz.
All About Jazz (AAJ): I've followed you since the late 70s. The new one seems to have a laid back, a little softer tone, to me. Is that the concept, or is it just where you are now? Is it the song selection?
Kenny Rankin (KR): I've never approached any recording with a concept. I think that, for me, the softness you refer to might be a result of an evolving process as an interpreter. There will be work that I do in the future that might have some more energy. But each song, piece by piece, dictates, pretty much, what's going to happen, relating to what's being said. And it's all about the lyric. I have been accused of straying from the melody. When I'm singing I'm not really thinking, I'm feeling.
I think a mellowing comes with time as well. But for the most part, it's the feeling that the songs give to me. For example, "Spanish Harlem," which is not necessarily a jazz tune. That song speaks to me because that's my neighborhood. That's where I grew up in Washington Heights. And of course you venture into other neighborhoods in this wonderful island called New York City. The roots for that song were deep. The rest, like "A Song For You," you have someone in mind that you want to speak to.
For me as a singer and an interpreter, I get to say things with these songs, and most songs, to someone a lot easier than I would to try and speak to them the words I feel. Songs are just a great way of... [pensive pause]... putting feelings out there.
“I've always messed with the melodies. I've always heard something other than what was written... I like to say that what I do is: I sing the story, and I tell the song.”
On stage or on a recording, I get to speak to whoever might be in my mind, in my heart, in my life, in my day, these words that were written by some wonderful composers. Although when I sing it, I don't really have a personal experience in particular, I might have a life experience in general about the song. Like "Where Do You Start," for instance, by Allan and Marilyn Bergman. I have moved in and out of relationships and they've begun and ended for one reason or another and collected things along the way. Boy, that really speaks to it—the sadness and the heartache of these individuals who now must separate their lives. And to some extent, their belongings, which are a reflection of memories, as well as their feelings. I love doing that.
AAJ: You mentioned you don't do concept albums, which is great. Some people do, which is probably the business people directing them in that way. That being said, what do you do when you approach a project? Do you just have some songs that you're feeling at the moment that you'd like to get out?
KR: I can tell you how we did this one. First of all, it's the first time in my career that I've worked with such extraordinarily gifted producers. Tommy LiPuma along with Al Schmitt. In my opinion, these guys are the Scorceses of music. Tommy is a producer- producer and Al is an engineer producer. For someone like myself, it doesn't really get any better than that.
I sat down and we just started going through songs, looking at a lot of songs and listening to things, and titles, and what jumps out at me. They asked me to do the basic arrangements. Tommy and Al said, "Take the guitar and after you pick out your songs, do with them what you want." So I'd pick out songs. The litmus test was—I'd be playing a tune and I'm into the zone of it, and suddenly some of the hairs on my arm would stand up and I'd get a chill. Sometimes Al and Tommy would experience the same thing, and say, "Man, this is good!"
AAJ: One song, in particular, "Round Midnight," had maybe the most different take that I've heard of that song.
KR: Well, the lyric is so morose...[exaggerates] "...it really gets badddd, round midnight." God! I'm goin' out a window [chuckle]. I'm glad I didn't write that, but I know how that feels. I just thought I'd put a little thang to it. A hint of optimism behind this dark image of solitude and isolation and pain and all the feelings of regret and remorse that come with having lost something you think you want, but maybe it's just as well as that it didn't go your way.
I'm just coming stream of consciousness here. I've never really given that much thought. I just thought I'd do something different because the song has been done as it has been done ever since it was written. A really slow, dirge kind of thing. But the message still gets across. It's pretty sad, but there's a subliminal light at the end of the tunnel.
I never really consciously thought about it, I just did it. I grew up in a very urban, Afro- Cuban neighborhood in Washington Heights. Dominican and Cuban and Puerto Rican. My first instrument was conga in the neighborhood. I grew up with Machito, Tito Puente, Cal Tjader, Bobby Montez, all these cats. It's in my roots. The when I discovered Brazilian music, I said "Whoa...I'm there."
"Spanish Harlem" has also got a little thing. When I think of that song, there's only one rose that I think of when I sing that song. And her name is Yvonne. She went to school with my sister. And I've known Yvonne since she was 8 years old. When we were kids, we got married and had three kids of our own. We were kids raising kids. She's Venezuelan and Puerto Rican. The children are beautiful—they're people now. But that's who the rose of Spanish Harlem is to me. So when I sing that song, and put all these different colors in, different arrangement, different approach, different voicings—that's the bottom line, in those days.
AAJ: When I first started listening to you, I'd been listening to Billie Holiday and Sarah Vaughan and all the greats over the years. I wasn't listening to you as a jazz singer, but I would constantly go, "Wow! There's a really interesting twist on a melody, or harmony," the way you phrase, that I've never heard before. Do you consider yourself a jazz-influenced singer? Duke Ellington didn't like to categorize people and I'm not trying to do that, but what do you feel? Did you listen to people who would rework melodies and harmonies? Because it seems to come so natural to you.
KR: That's the answer. It just comes so natural. I don't think, I feel. I've listened to everybody, not studying them, just turning them on. What I really love to listen to all the time is classical music. I'm not knowledgeable about the classical artists or the composers, all these people, but the sweetness and the passion of strings moving.
Then basically, it's a life experience. I don't know how to define what I do. I've gone into record stores and seen my records in three different places. Pop rock. Folk rock. Jazz. I've always messed with the melodies. I've always heard something other than what was written. I'm not academically trained in music. I don't read music. I've never taken any voice lessons, which was a problem in the beginning because I thought that "Gee whiz. Aren't I wonderful. I'm what I do." That was early on in my teen years into my young adult years. And I didn't know. And I didn't know that I didn't know. Until one day there was this moment of clarity, you might call it, and the sky opened up, and the pressure was off. I was no longer the center of the universe [chuckle], which was wonderful. Because the pressure was off and I began to have the time of my life. So I like to say that what I do is: I sing the story, and I tell the song.
AAJ: I know you play guitar and you play piano. These are things you just picked up on your own?
KR: Right. I started guitar when I was about 24. I was in Las Vegas singing in a group and Don Costa was at the Landmark Hotel at the time writing charts for Sinatra or Mathis at the time, and I was making coffee for Don, who I love. He went on to be a big, big influence in my musical life. I always wanted to do something with him, and we finally did in 1976 [ After the Roses ]. I was hanging there and some fella had come up from Brazil with a recording of Joao Gilberto. Don played classical guitar, and they played this recording of Joao and I said "whoa." I bought a 50-dollar guitar, I quit the band and I went home. My son had been born. We were pregnant with another baby. I just bought a lot of songbooks with photos of the hands in position and taught myself to play the guitar.
I remember I was up at Bell Sound studios, diddling with the guitar and [jazz guitar whiz] Bucky Pizzarelli came over and said, "Here, this is an A Major Seventh, and this is a C Major." And showed me the changes. He gave me a couple of those clues. God bless Bucky. He's still kicking. And his wonderful son, John...And I just took off, learning, isolating. Mathematics was my best subject. So I saw these equations, like this chord is to that chord as that chord is to this chord. Along the way once in a while, there would be someone who would show me a chord that would be up the neck a little bit. I'd take that, and that would sprout. There were little seeds people would give me, and they would just flourish.
Then, on top of that, I had my voice, which I could sail over. And so many times, I would find a song, key against the music, see the chords, and I would find a chord in the neighborhood of the real chord. That's good enough. Then I'd hear something and the melody would just shift enough to suit the chord that I found that was in the neighborhood of the original chord that should have and could have been played.
I've since gone to sticking more to the melody. This is something that Tommy and Al really asked me to focus on. Establish the melody, stay with the melody. OK, fine. But I always slid a little different kind of a chord underneath the real melody. Which gave it a little different hum, or something.
And I've had the time of my life. I've never had it so good, in my work. Doing this work. And bouncing these things off Tommy LiPuma and Al Schmitt—it just doesn't get any better than that, for me.
They've asked me already to start picking songs for the next one and get into them and hone them and learn them. It's a labor of love. It's a good thing.
AAJ: As a writer, do you do it regularly? Just when something hits you?
KR: When I first started playing guitar, I wrote a song called "Haven't We Met," and the lyrics were written by Ruth Bachelar. It was a jazz waltz and I wrote it quickly. I was in a place of discovering chords and I had all these chords and I whipped through them. It just came along and the lyrics were someone else's job.
Moving along, I've written a bunch of tunes. Some of them have stood the test of time. The ones that have were written in about 5 or 10 or 15 minutes. They just showed up. I report what's going on. The songs usually come from one of two places—extreme joy, or some real pain. Anything in the middle, it's work, and I'm not good at that.
I'm not good at—boy meets girl, girl meets boy, boy breaks girl's heart, girl takes revenge, paints boy's car aquamarine. I don't know how to do that. What I do is I just come from my heart and I just speak the truth.
AAJ: So people don't come up to you and say, "OK we'd like an original tune here"
KR: I don't know how to do that. Or I say, "I have a bunch. Try these. If any of these will work for you, good."
AAJ: When you're picking songs, I notice back to the beginning, a lot of the repertoire is what's know as the Great American Songbook, or jazz standards. Some jazz musicians say that the reason that those songs are still played today is because they have the interesting chord structure, changes. There's a lot more to improvise with on Cole Porter or the Gershwins than there is Bruce Springsteen. Do you find that attraction to those standards?
KR: Absolutely. I mean" She was Too Good to Me," a very simple song by Rogers and Hart. [speaks the lyric:] "She was too good to me/How can I get along now. So close she stood to me/Everything seems all wrong now. She would have brought me the sun/Making me smile, that was her fun."
Wow. That's powerful. The hairs on my arms are standing up right now, I swear to God. I get chills and I get a lump in my throat when I think of that.
I'm all for "Born in the USA," and I love Bruce. [Springsteen]. As a matter of fact, some years ago some friends of mine were producing a concert in Colorado at Red Rocks for Bruce Springsteen. And they said they wanted someone to come out, a little classy thing, do about a half hour in front of Bruce Springsteen. I said fine. The money's good. It will be a nice time. Red Rocks, Colorado. Great.
So I get out there, and I'm doing like "Blackbird," and [laughter] half the audience, like they do at those big concerts, was looking for their seats. The other half had found their seats, and they're all in unison going, "Bruuuce, Bruuuuuce!" It was wonderful. [laughter] What a wonderful day that was. Truly. What an experience.
AAJ: Do you look at the future of the music world optimistically? Some jazz musicians are not optimistic. You don't rely on that. You can play a jazz room, but you can be outside it too.
KR: The technology has so changed things for the good and for the band. Expanded things. Broadened things. On the one hand you have digital sampling stuff that gave rise to urban music and the technology that's been utilized in that regard in rap music, in hip-hop. Which is very cool. Ellington said there's two kinds of music, good and bad. Where's the line between? Then it comes down to individual taste. I keep and open mind and an open heart and I listen to whatever comes in. I don't seek it out. I don't try and critique it. I don't try and break it down. What does it do to me?
Technology has given people a lot of opportunities. It's also taken away a lot of opportunities for people that might not go in that direction. In the music business in general, there are radio stations that have been playing the same kind of music for years. I know there's a lot of music being made—and good stuff. Because I hear it in the clubs. But it hasn't been on the airwaves, because it comes down to commercial time and what's the advertisement. And I stop right there. I don't go into that. I love to hear beautiful music. I love to hear rockin' music. I used to clean the house to ZZ Top, Eddie VanHalen. I love that stuff. These guys are good. They got something going on. Dr. John.
Where's the music business going? I've never known the answer to that one. And I kind of like not knowing. It becomes more of an adventure. I've never tried to accommodate or placate or patronize an audience by playing what I "think" they want to hear. I've been so lucky and so blessed to enjoy the work that I've chosen to do and have an audience appreciate that effort. I'm very lucky to be able to say that and experience that.
And I don't take it lightly. The invitation that I get on a daily basis from an audience who've invited me into their evening, I don't take that lightly. That's big stuff. Is it humble? No, it's real, man. It's real stuff.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Brad Mehldau Live at The Village
Ola turma do Jazz,
Estou na fase de avaliações dos novos CD's, tão logo acabe de ouvi-los, irei posta-los.
No momento este otimo artigo sobre o Brad Mehldau, ao vivo.
Brad Mehldau at the Village Vanguard Brad Mehldau - Published: May 15, 2009
By Eric Benson
Discuss Brad Mehldau Trio Village Vanguard New York, NY May 5 & 9, 2009
No major jazz artist of the last 25 years has been more closely associated with a single venue than pianist Brad Mehldau with the Village Vanguard. Of the 11 trio albums he's released since signing with Warner Bros in 1994, four have been recorded live at jazz's most hallowed club. Pianist Bill Evans—who had a similarly synergistic relationship with the Vanguard (Mehldau once wrote that the comparison to Evans "has been a thorn in my side.")—used to play there six weeks a year; Mehldau restricts himself to just one. Last week, the Brad Mehldau Trio made its annual visit back home.
Mehldau's long-term penchant for recording at the Vanguard means that we have an easy-to-compare chronicle of his evolution as a musician. In 1997, when Mehldau recorded Live at the Village Vanguard (his first Vanguard album), he was a superhero improviser fond of showing off the brilliance of his new-found powers. His introduction to "Young and Foolish" is so wrenchingly lyrical that it could have been a complete, emotionally exhausting song on its own. His explosive, virtuoso solo on "Monk's Dream" sounds like the work of two ambidextrous pianists, with Mehldau creating so much tension that, when the solo ends, the audience cheers and roars like it's just seen Superman save the day. Pianist Ethan Iverson summed it up well for the writer Nate Chinen: "hearing those guys play, say, 'The Way You Look Tonight' in '97—that was really a thrilling moment for jazz."
Mehldau's follow-up at the Vanguard, Back at the Vanguard, recorded in 1999, showcases the same kind of bountiful outpouring. In the solo introduction to "All The Things You Are," he slowly builds the melody from a series of jagged, short phrases—a sorcerer conjuring a new creature into being. After each improvised chorus, on standards like "Solar" and "I'll Be Seeing You," you think he must be nearing fatigue, but he keeps going, the tension keeps building, and by the time he reaches a resolution, both audience and performer are dripping with figurative (if not literal) sweat.
Mehldau's first two Vanguard albums are such impressive displays of artistic sophistication and pianist prowess that it's hard to imagine how he could have upped the ante on them. Whether or not Mehldau himself could have imagined it, we'll never know; instead of striving for ever bigger, faster, and stronger improvisations, he opted to focus increasingly on dynamics, compositional structure, and group interplay. Mehldau's maturation as an artist has meant that I've often left his performances slightly disappointed. Why, I've wondered, isn't he delivering the goods like he did on the first two Vanguard albums? Why does he pull up short on his improvisations before we can see Superman flex all of his muscles?
The writer David Foster Wallace once wrote that he worried that his work had been driven by a "basically vapid urge to be avant-garde and post structural and linguistically calisthenic." I've never spoken to Mehldau, but I wouldn't be surprised if he had similar (if somewhat less self-critical) feelings when looking back on his salad days. It's not as if Mehldau has suddenly become a minimalist, but there's been a shift in his focus to subtler, less flashy aspects of the music.
“The arc of Mehldau's performances are more narrative now, even if that narrative rarely climaxes in the big finish that was once his signature.”
Despite having seen Mehldau play on about a dozen occasions since 2001, I've spent orders of magnitude more time listening to his records. Actually witnessing the man in the flesh can be jarring. His playing sounds athletic—notes flying this way and that; hands crossing, uncrossing; choruses passing like rounds for an inexhaustible prize fighter—but it looks practically sedentary. His head hangs slightly, his hands move slowly, and his rapid-fire fingers lift just enough to clear the keyboard. In other words, Mehldau has impeccable technique, expending effort only on what directly affects the production of sound. His shoulders are the only part of his body that communicates the tense build-up of his playing. They're often raised at the outset, they get increasingly tight in the fury of improvisation, and loosen in the cathartic finale.
Even more jarring than Mehldau's economy of motion is how quiet his playing sounds compared to what we hear on the early records. This, I suspect, has as much to do with sound engineering as with any pianistic evolution, but it's hard to ignore the fact that live the the trio's balance is much more egalitarian. Instead of the great soloist zooming up and away from his band mates as the Warner Bros. recordings would have you believe, bassist Larry Grenadier and drummer Jeff Ballard (who replaced Jorge Rossy in 2005) are integral to the pianist's propulsion.
The first three songs on Tuesday—the unrecorded Mehldau originals "Dream Sketch," "Twiggie," and "B Blues"—showcased the trio's rapport with Ballard palming the floor tom, Grenadier plucking a high staccato on the bass, and Mehldau making quick stabs instead of baroque flurries. When Mehldau finally took a long solo, on "B Blues," Grenadier fell into a walk and Ballard started to swing, but they remained strong and flexible partners, not docile accompanists. On "Samba e Amor," Mehldau dominated but never rose above the group, the music a slow burn that flickered with intensity but never quite burst into flame. The final number, Kurt Weill and Ira Gerswhin's "My Ship," began as a tender ballad before switching gears and ending in a collective rattle.
On Saturday night, Mehldau went farther and deeper into the music. With the late night crowd bringing a palpable excitement that was absent from the Tuesday performance, the Mehldau trio played an 80 minute set—very long for the Vanguard—punctuated by a sprawling version of "I Fall In Love Too Easily" that broke for an unaccompanied Mehldau interlude. Mehldau's solo piano approach has undergone a more radical transformation than his trio playing. He's replaced the long lines of Elegaic Cycles with an excessive, almost droning, use of repetition, creating hypnotic textures and a sometimes grating sameness. Why, I've asked myself (especially after listening to the disappointing Live in Tokyo), does such a loquacious pianist resort to what can sound like a musical stammer? Luckily on "I Fall In Love Too Easily," Mehldau's repetitions didn't have long enough to annoy, unfolding instead like a rubato daydream amid the more hard driving work of the trio's waking life.
I doubt I'll ever like anything Mehldau does quite as much as his early Vanguard albums, both because their artistry is so powerful and because they occupy a crucial place in my own jazz life. Hearing Mehldau's solo introduction to "All The Things You Are" convinced me that today's jazz could be every bit as thrilling as the Monk and Miles in which I was immersed at the time. Kind of Blue made me fall in love with jazz; Mehldau's Back at the Vanguard sent me on a quest to the basements of downtown Manhattan, searching for the living music.
As much as I'd love to hear more of the showstopping solo introductions of Mehldau's early years, they would feel indulgent now—the work of a musician with something to prove. The arc of Mehldau's performances have become more narrative, even if that narrative rarely climaxes in the big finish that was once his signature. Instead of intoxicating tension and resolution, Mehldau honors the structure of each composition more faithfully and when he breaks from a song's form, as in his performance of "I Fall In Love Too Easily," he's more likely to add textural elements like the dreamy solo break. Now approaching 40, Mehldau is no longer content to be just a great improviser, more than ever before he seems to be thinking with a master composer's complexity and patience.
Photo Credits Courtesy of International Music Network
Discuss
Estou na fase de avaliações dos novos CD's, tão logo acabe de ouvi-los, irei posta-los.
No momento este otimo artigo sobre o Brad Mehldau, ao vivo.
Brad Mehldau at the Village Vanguard Brad Mehldau - Published: May 15, 2009
By Eric Benson
Discuss Brad Mehldau Trio Village Vanguard New York, NY May 5 & 9, 2009
No major jazz artist of the last 25 years has been more closely associated with a single venue than pianist Brad Mehldau with the Village Vanguard. Of the 11 trio albums he's released since signing with Warner Bros in 1994, four have been recorded live at jazz's most hallowed club. Pianist Bill Evans—who had a similarly synergistic relationship with the Vanguard (Mehldau once wrote that the comparison to Evans "has been a thorn in my side.")—used to play there six weeks a year; Mehldau restricts himself to just one. Last week, the Brad Mehldau Trio made its annual visit back home.
Mehldau's long-term penchant for recording at the Vanguard means that we have an easy-to-compare chronicle of his evolution as a musician. In 1997, when Mehldau recorded Live at the Village Vanguard (his first Vanguard album), he was a superhero improviser fond of showing off the brilliance of his new-found powers. His introduction to "Young and Foolish" is so wrenchingly lyrical that it could have been a complete, emotionally exhausting song on its own. His explosive, virtuoso solo on "Monk's Dream" sounds like the work of two ambidextrous pianists, with Mehldau creating so much tension that, when the solo ends, the audience cheers and roars like it's just seen Superman save the day. Pianist Ethan Iverson summed it up well for the writer Nate Chinen: "hearing those guys play, say, 'The Way You Look Tonight' in '97—that was really a thrilling moment for jazz."
Mehldau's follow-up at the Vanguard, Back at the Vanguard, recorded in 1999, showcases the same kind of bountiful outpouring. In the solo introduction to "All The Things You Are," he slowly builds the melody from a series of jagged, short phrases—a sorcerer conjuring a new creature into being. After each improvised chorus, on standards like "Solar" and "I'll Be Seeing You," you think he must be nearing fatigue, but he keeps going, the tension keeps building, and by the time he reaches a resolution, both audience and performer are dripping with figurative (if not literal) sweat.
Mehldau's first two Vanguard albums are such impressive displays of artistic sophistication and pianist prowess that it's hard to imagine how he could have upped the ante on them. Whether or not Mehldau himself could have imagined it, we'll never know; instead of striving for ever bigger, faster, and stronger improvisations, he opted to focus increasingly on dynamics, compositional structure, and group interplay. Mehldau's maturation as an artist has meant that I've often left his performances slightly disappointed. Why, I've wondered, isn't he delivering the goods like he did on the first two Vanguard albums? Why does he pull up short on his improvisations before we can see Superman flex all of his muscles?
The writer David Foster Wallace once wrote that he worried that his work had been driven by a "basically vapid urge to be avant-garde and post structural and linguistically calisthenic." I've never spoken to Mehldau, but I wouldn't be surprised if he had similar (if somewhat less self-critical) feelings when looking back on his salad days. It's not as if Mehldau has suddenly become a minimalist, but there's been a shift in his focus to subtler, less flashy aspects of the music.
“The arc of Mehldau's performances are more narrative now, even if that narrative rarely climaxes in the big finish that was once his signature.”
Despite having seen Mehldau play on about a dozen occasions since 2001, I've spent orders of magnitude more time listening to his records. Actually witnessing the man in the flesh can be jarring. His playing sounds athletic—notes flying this way and that; hands crossing, uncrossing; choruses passing like rounds for an inexhaustible prize fighter—but it looks practically sedentary. His head hangs slightly, his hands move slowly, and his rapid-fire fingers lift just enough to clear the keyboard. In other words, Mehldau has impeccable technique, expending effort only on what directly affects the production of sound. His shoulders are the only part of his body that communicates the tense build-up of his playing. They're often raised at the outset, they get increasingly tight in the fury of improvisation, and loosen in the cathartic finale.
Even more jarring than Mehldau's economy of motion is how quiet his playing sounds compared to what we hear on the early records. This, I suspect, has as much to do with sound engineering as with any pianistic evolution, but it's hard to ignore the fact that live the the trio's balance is much more egalitarian. Instead of the great soloist zooming up and away from his band mates as the Warner Bros. recordings would have you believe, bassist Larry Grenadier and drummer Jeff Ballard (who replaced Jorge Rossy in 2005) are integral to the pianist's propulsion.
The first three songs on Tuesday—the unrecorded Mehldau originals "Dream Sketch," "Twiggie," and "B Blues"—showcased the trio's rapport with Ballard palming the floor tom, Grenadier plucking a high staccato on the bass, and Mehldau making quick stabs instead of baroque flurries. When Mehldau finally took a long solo, on "B Blues," Grenadier fell into a walk and Ballard started to swing, but they remained strong and flexible partners, not docile accompanists. On "Samba e Amor," Mehldau dominated but never rose above the group, the music a slow burn that flickered with intensity but never quite burst into flame. The final number, Kurt Weill and Ira Gerswhin's "My Ship," began as a tender ballad before switching gears and ending in a collective rattle.
On Saturday night, Mehldau went farther and deeper into the music. With the late night crowd bringing a palpable excitement that was absent from the Tuesday performance, the Mehldau trio played an 80 minute set—very long for the Vanguard—punctuated by a sprawling version of "I Fall In Love Too Easily" that broke for an unaccompanied Mehldau interlude. Mehldau's solo piano approach has undergone a more radical transformation than his trio playing. He's replaced the long lines of Elegaic Cycles with an excessive, almost droning, use of repetition, creating hypnotic textures and a sometimes grating sameness. Why, I've asked myself (especially after listening to the disappointing Live in Tokyo), does such a loquacious pianist resort to what can sound like a musical stammer? Luckily on "I Fall In Love Too Easily," Mehldau's repetitions didn't have long enough to annoy, unfolding instead like a rubato daydream amid the more hard driving work of the trio's waking life.
I doubt I'll ever like anything Mehldau does quite as much as his early Vanguard albums, both because their artistry is so powerful and because they occupy a crucial place in my own jazz life. Hearing Mehldau's solo introduction to "All The Things You Are" convinced me that today's jazz could be every bit as thrilling as the Monk and Miles in which I was immersed at the time. Kind of Blue made me fall in love with jazz; Mehldau's Back at the Vanguard sent me on a quest to the basements of downtown Manhattan, searching for the living music.
As much as I'd love to hear more of the showstopping solo introductions of Mehldau's early years, they would feel indulgent now—the work of a musician with something to prove. The arc of Mehldau's performances have become more narrative, even if that narrative rarely climaxes in the big finish that was once his signature. Instead of intoxicating tension and resolution, Mehldau honors the structure of each composition more faithfully and when he breaks from a song's form, as in his performance of "I Fall In Love Too Easily," he's more likely to add textural elements like the dreamy solo break. Now approaching 40, Mehldau is no longer content to be just a great improviser, more than ever before he seems to be thinking with a master composer's complexity and patience.
Photo Credits Courtesy of International Music Network
Discuss
Friday, February 20, 2009
Novos titulos 2009 / WorldJazz 2009
Boa noite amigos,
Acaba de chegar alguns cd's para nossa avaliação, e com certeza alguns italianos estarao em nossas listas !! hahahahaha !!!
- Luigi Ferrara Quartet / Another Day philology W 728.2
- Roger Kellaway / Live at the Jazz Standard ipo
- Renato Sellani / A Sergio Endrigo-Nelle mie notti philology W 360.2
- Introducing Giulio Stracciati Trio / Free Three philology W 328.2
- Kenny Barron / The Traveler SSC 3079
- Harvey S with Kenny Barron / Now was the Time SCD 2092
- Enrico Rava / New York Days ECM2064
- Irio de Paula / O Amor em Paz philology W341.2
- Peter Nordahl Trio / The Look Of Love ADCD 26
- Bill Cunliffe / The Blues and The Abstract Truth Take 2 HCD2003
- Julia Hülsmann Trio / The End of a Summer ECM2079
Acaba de chegar alguns cd's para nossa avaliação, e com certeza alguns italianos estarao em nossas listas !! hahahahaha !!!
- Luigi Ferrara Quartet / Another Day philology W 728.2
- Roger Kellaway / Live at the Jazz Standard ipo
- Renato Sellani / A Sergio Endrigo-Nelle mie notti philology W 360.2
- Introducing Giulio Stracciati Trio / Free Three philology W 328.2
- Kenny Barron / The Traveler SSC 3079
- Harvey S with Kenny Barron / Now was the Time SCD 2092
- Enrico Rava / New York Days ECM2064
- Irio de Paula / O Amor em Paz philology W341.2
- Peter Nordahl Trio / The Look Of Love ADCD 26
- Bill Cunliffe / The Blues and The Abstract Truth Take 2 HCD2003
- Julia Hülsmann Trio / The End of a Summer ECM2079
Sunday, February 01, 2009
Resultado Final Jazz 2008
Segue abaixo resultado das listas de "melhor do jazz 2008", montage feita pelo maior ouvinte de Jazz, Claudio Botelho:
Dessa forma, feitas as contas, cheguei no seguinte:
1- Antonio Faraò – Woman´s Perfume: 4 votos.
2- Michel Wolff – Jazz, Jazz, Jazz; Ricardo Arrighini –Garota de Ipanema; Robert Lakatos – Never Let Me Go; Stefano Bollani – Carioca; Roma trio – Ciao, Ciao Bambina; Trio Sud – Young and Fine; Alboran Trio – Near Gale e Fausto Ferraiolo Trio – Changing Walking: 3 votos.
3- Martin Bejerano – Evolution/Revolution; Jessica Williams – Songs for a New Century; Patricia Barber – The Cole Porter Mix; Ricardo Arrighini – Luciana; Karel Boehle – Last Tango in Paris; Marcin Wasilewski Trio – January e Francesco Cafiso - Portrait in Black and White: 2 votos.
4- Chris Wabish – Jade Vision; Paula Schocron –Urbes; Ernesto Jodos – Ernesto Jodos Trio; Alan Broadbent – Moment’s Notice; Taylor Eigsti – Let it Come to You; Robert Jan Vermueulen – En Blanc et Noir; John Beasley – Letter to Herbie; Roma Trio – Love is a Many Splendored Thing; Vladimir Shafranov – Portrait in Music; Paul Bollenback – Invocation; Maria Pio de Vito – Jazz Italiano 2007; Dena Derose – Live at jazz Standards Vol. 1; Andy Bey – Ain´t Necessarily So; Alboran Trio – Meltemi; Ed Lincoln – Doucemant Novamente; R. Menescal – Os Bossa Nova; Leandro Braga – A Música de Dona Ivone de lara; Alda Montellanico & Enrico Pierannunzi – Danza de Uma Ninfa; Judy Wexler – Easy on the Heart; Riccardo Arrighini – Black on White; Oliver Antunes – Alice in Wonderland; Ted Nash – The Mancini Project; Dan Nimmer – Yours in My Heart Alone; Jane Duboc – Canção de Espera; Dena Derose – Live at jazz Standards vol. 2; Jon Mayer – So Many Stars; Franco D’Andrea – Creole Rhapsody; Brad Mehldau – Live; Ares Tavolazzi - Godot and Altre Storie di Teatro; Anat Cohen – Notes from the Village; Ada Montellanico – Il Sole di un Attimo; Grant Stewart – Young at Heart; Tönu Naisso – You Stepped out of a Dream; The Romantic Jazz Trio – Magical Mystery – Tribute to Monk; Riccardo Fioravanti Trio – The Bill Evans Project; John Taylor- Whirlpool; Norma Winstone – Distances; Peter Delano – For Dewey; Kenny Wheeler – Other People; Armen Donelian – Oasis e Joel Weiskopf – Devoted to You: 1 voto.
Dessa forma, feitas as contas, cheguei no seguinte:
1- Antonio Faraò – Woman´s Perfume: 4 votos.
2- Michel Wolff – Jazz, Jazz, Jazz; Ricardo Arrighini –Garota de Ipanema; Robert Lakatos – Never Let Me Go; Stefano Bollani – Carioca; Roma trio – Ciao, Ciao Bambina; Trio Sud – Young and Fine; Alboran Trio – Near Gale e Fausto Ferraiolo Trio – Changing Walking: 3 votos.
3- Martin Bejerano – Evolution/Revolution; Jessica Williams – Songs for a New Century; Patricia Barber – The Cole Porter Mix; Ricardo Arrighini – Luciana; Karel Boehle – Last Tango in Paris; Marcin Wasilewski Trio – January e Francesco Cafiso - Portrait in Black and White: 2 votos.
4- Chris Wabish – Jade Vision; Paula Schocron –Urbes; Ernesto Jodos – Ernesto Jodos Trio; Alan Broadbent – Moment’s Notice; Taylor Eigsti – Let it Come to You; Robert Jan Vermueulen – En Blanc et Noir; John Beasley – Letter to Herbie; Roma Trio – Love is a Many Splendored Thing; Vladimir Shafranov – Portrait in Music; Paul Bollenback – Invocation; Maria Pio de Vito – Jazz Italiano 2007; Dena Derose – Live at jazz Standards Vol. 1; Andy Bey – Ain´t Necessarily So; Alboran Trio – Meltemi; Ed Lincoln – Doucemant Novamente; R. Menescal – Os Bossa Nova; Leandro Braga – A Música de Dona Ivone de lara; Alda Montellanico & Enrico Pierannunzi – Danza de Uma Ninfa; Judy Wexler – Easy on the Heart; Riccardo Arrighini – Black on White; Oliver Antunes – Alice in Wonderland; Ted Nash – The Mancini Project; Dan Nimmer – Yours in My Heart Alone; Jane Duboc – Canção de Espera; Dena Derose – Live at jazz Standards vol. 2; Jon Mayer – So Many Stars; Franco D’Andrea – Creole Rhapsody; Brad Mehldau – Live; Ares Tavolazzi - Godot and Altre Storie di Teatro; Anat Cohen – Notes from the Village; Ada Montellanico – Il Sole di un Attimo; Grant Stewart – Young at Heart; Tönu Naisso – You Stepped out of a Dream; The Romantic Jazz Trio – Magical Mystery – Tribute to Monk; Riccardo Fioravanti Trio – The Bill Evans Project; John Taylor- Whirlpool; Norma Winstone – Distances; Peter Delano – For Dewey; Kenny Wheeler – Other People; Armen Donelian – Oasis e Joel Weiskopf – Devoted to You: 1 voto.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Freddie Hubbard is Dead
Morre a lenda do jazz Freddie Hubbard
Trompetista tocou com John Coltrane e Ornette Coleman.Hubbard iniciou a carreira em 1958 e influenciou uma geração de jazzistas.
O trompetista norte-americano Freddie Hubbard.
Freddie Hubbard, o jazzista norte-americano ganhador do Grammy cujo estilo influenciou toda uma geração de trompetistas e que colaborou com artistas como Ornette Coleman, John Coltrane e Sonny Rollins, morreu nesta segunda-feira (29), um mês após sofrer um ataque cardíaco. Ele tinha 70 anos de idade. Segundo seu empresário, o também trompetista David Weiss, do New Jazz Composers Octet, Hubbard morreu no Sherman Oaks Hospital. Ele havia sido hospitalizado após um ataque cardíaco no dia 26 de novembro Figura importante nos círculos de jazz, Hubbard tocou em centenas de discos, numa carreira que começou em 1958, ano em que chegou em Nova York, vindo de sua cidade natal Indianápolis, onde ele estudou no Arthur Jordan Conservatory of Music e com a Sinfônica de Indianápolis. Logo ele começou a andar com lendas do jazz como Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, Cannonball Adderley e Coltrane. “Conheci Trane (apelido de John Coltrane) numa jam session na casa de Count Basie, no Harlem, em 1958”, contou Hubbard à revista especializada “Down Beat” em 1995. “Ele disse: ‘Por que você não chega mais e vamos tentar ensaiar um pouco’. Eu quase fiquei louco. Imagine, um garoto de 20 anos de idade tocando com John Coltrane. Ele me ajudou muito, e trabalhamos bastante juntos”.
Influente
Nos seus primeiros trabalhos, que incluem os álbuns “Open Sesame” e “Goin’ up”, lançados pelo selo Blue Note, a influência de Davis e outros no trabalho de Hubbard é obvia, disse Weiss. Bem em um par de anos ele desenvolveria um trabalho único, que influenciaria uma geração de músicos, incluindo Wynton Marsalis. “Ele influenciou todos os trompetistas que vieram depois dele”, disse Marsalis. “Certamente eu ouvi muito do seu trabalho... Todos nós o ouvíamos. Ele tem esse som alto, e um grande senso de ritmo e tempo e a grande marca do seu estilo é uma exuberância. Sua técnica é exuberante”. Hubbard tocou em mais de 300 discos, incluindo seus próprios álbuns e em bandas de apoio de outros artistas. Ele ganhou um Grammy em 1972 como melhor performance de jazz em grupo, pelo disco “First light”.
Fonte G1
Veja seus videos no YouTube ao lado.
Trompetista tocou com John Coltrane e Ornette Coleman.Hubbard iniciou a carreira em 1958 e influenciou uma geração de jazzistas.
O trompetista norte-americano Freddie Hubbard.
Freddie Hubbard, o jazzista norte-americano ganhador do Grammy cujo estilo influenciou toda uma geração de trompetistas e que colaborou com artistas como Ornette Coleman, John Coltrane e Sonny Rollins, morreu nesta segunda-feira (29), um mês após sofrer um ataque cardíaco. Ele tinha 70 anos de idade. Segundo seu empresário, o também trompetista David Weiss, do New Jazz Composers Octet, Hubbard morreu no Sherman Oaks Hospital. Ele havia sido hospitalizado após um ataque cardíaco no dia 26 de novembro Figura importante nos círculos de jazz, Hubbard tocou em centenas de discos, numa carreira que começou em 1958, ano em que chegou em Nova York, vindo de sua cidade natal Indianápolis, onde ele estudou no Arthur Jordan Conservatory of Music e com a Sinfônica de Indianápolis. Logo ele começou a andar com lendas do jazz como Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, Cannonball Adderley e Coltrane. “Conheci Trane (apelido de John Coltrane) numa jam session na casa de Count Basie, no Harlem, em 1958”, contou Hubbard à revista especializada “Down Beat” em 1995. “Ele disse: ‘Por que você não chega mais e vamos tentar ensaiar um pouco’. Eu quase fiquei louco. Imagine, um garoto de 20 anos de idade tocando com John Coltrane. Ele me ajudou muito, e trabalhamos bastante juntos”.
Influente
Nos seus primeiros trabalhos, que incluem os álbuns “Open Sesame” e “Goin’ up”, lançados pelo selo Blue Note, a influência de Davis e outros no trabalho de Hubbard é obvia, disse Weiss. Bem em um par de anos ele desenvolveria um trabalho único, que influenciaria uma geração de músicos, incluindo Wynton Marsalis. “Ele influenciou todos os trompetistas que vieram depois dele”, disse Marsalis. “Certamente eu ouvi muito do seu trabalho... Todos nós o ouvíamos. Ele tem esse som alto, e um grande senso de ritmo e tempo e a grande marca do seu estilo é uma exuberância. Sua técnica é exuberante”. Hubbard tocou em mais de 300 discos, incluindo seus próprios álbuns e em bandas de apoio de outros artistas. Ele ganhou um Grammy em 1972 como melhor performance de jazz em grupo, pelo disco “First light”.
Fonte G1
Veja seus videos no YouTube ao lado.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
The Best in 2008
Here is the 2008 CD of the Year List
CD DO ANO 2008 - Jessica Williams " Songs for a New Century "
VOCAL 2008 - Dena DeRose " Live at Jazz Standard - Volume One & Volume Two"
HONORABLE MENTION 2008 -
- Alboran Trio " Near Gale "
- Riccardo Arrighini Trio " Garota de Ipanema(Ana Silva) "
- Trio Sud " Young and Fine "
- Jon Mayer " So Many Stars "
- Antonio Faraó " Woman's Perfume"
- Franco D'Andrea Trio "Creole Rhapsody(The Duke Ellington Suites 1931-1974 Chapter 1)"
- Brad Mehldau Trio " Live "
- Ares Tavolazzi " Godot e altre storie di teatro "
SURPRISE 2008 - Riccardo Fioravanti Trio " Bill Evans Project"
HORS CONCOURS 2008 - Eliane Elias " Something For You - Eliane Elias Sings & Plays Bill Evans "
MINHA PISADA NO TOMATE 2008
- Fred Hersch & Norma Winstone " Songs & Lullabies " from 2003
ARTIST OF THE YEAR 2008 - Chico Pinheiro ( Arranjos & Guitar ) & Andre Ceccarelli ( a giant on Drums )
CD DO ANO 2008 - Jessica Williams " Songs for a New Century "
VOCAL 2008 - Dena DeRose " Live at Jazz Standard - Volume One & Volume Two"
HONORABLE MENTION 2008 -
- Alboran Trio " Near Gale "
- Riccardo Arrighini Trio " Garota de Ipanema(Ana Silva) "
- Trio Sud " Young and Fine "
- Jon Mayer " So Many Stars "
- Antonio Faraó " Woman's Perfume"
- Franco D'Andrea Trio "Creole Rhapsody(The Duke Ellington Suites 1931-1974 Chapter 1)"
- Brad Mehldau Trio " Live "
- Ares Tavolazzi " Godot e altre storie di teatro "
SURPRISE 2008 - Riccardo Fioravanti Trio " Bill Evans Project"
HORS CONCOURS 2008 - Eliane Elias " Something For You - Eliane Elias Sings & Plays Bill Evans "
MINHA PISADA NO TOMATE 2008
- Fred Hersch & Norma Winstone " Songs & Lullabies " from 2003
ARTIST OF THE YEAR 2008 - Chico Pinheiro ( Arranjos & Guitar ) & Andre Ceccarelli ( a giant on Drums )
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Neal Hefti
Neal Hefti, trumpetista de big bands, arranjador e compositor das trilhas do filme “Um estranho casal” e do seriado “Batman” morreu neste sábado (11) aos 85 anos, segundo seu filho Paul Hefti. Um dos feitos mais notáveis de Hefti inclui o tema característico do seriado dos anos 60 estrelando o super-herói Batman, que virou hit nas rádios e rendeu ao autor um Grammy em 1966 na categoria “Melhor tema instrumental”.
Ele também compôs trilhas para filmes como “Um estranho casal”, “Descalços no parque” e “Harlow - A Vênus prateada” - este último trazia sua clássica faixa “Girl talk”. Seu filho disse que o tema de “Batman” foi a composição mais difícil para Neal Hefti, que levou um mês para compôr o baixo e os ataques explosivos de trompete.
"Ele gastou mais partituras de papel nessa coisa do que me qualquer outra música", disse Paul Hefti à Associated Press.
Neal Hefti nasceu em 29 de outubro de 1922, em Hastings, Nebraska, e tocou trompete com bandas locais quando adolescente, para ganhar dinheiro.
Na fase adulta, ele trabalhou e fez arranjos musicais para grandes nomes da era das "big bands", incluindo Countie Basie, Woody Herman, Charlie Spivak e Harry James.
"Ele era um dos grande arranjadores e compositores do seu tempo", disse o radialista e amigo de longa data Gary Owens ao "Los Angeles Times".
Fonte: G1
Ele também compôs trilhas para filmes como “Um estranho casal”, “Descalços no parque” e “Harlow - A Vênus prateada” - este último trazia sua clássica faixa “Girl talk”. Seu filho disse que o tema de “Batman” foi a composição mais difícil para Neal Hefti, que levou um mês para compôr o baixo e os ataques explosivos de trompete.
"Ele gastou mais partituras de papel nessa coisa do que me qualquer outra música", disse Paul Hefti à Associated Press.
Neal Hefti nasceu em 29 de outubro de 1922, em Hastings, Nebraska, e tocou trompete com bandas locais quando adolescente, para ganhar dinheiro.
Na fase adulta, ele trabalhou e fez arranjos musicais para grandes nomes da era das "big bands", incluindo Countie Basie, Woody Herman, Charlie Spivak e Harry James.
"Ele era um dos grande arranjadores e compositores do seu tempo", disse o radialista e amigo de longa data Gary Owens ao "Los Angeles Times".
Fonte: G1
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