Jazz Misconceptions

The purpose of this paper is to show that West Coast and Cool jazz of the 1950s were much more closely linked to bebop of the 1940s and 1950s than is commonly thought and that many of the supposed divisions' have been created by outsiders to satisfy other purposes. My intent is not to claim that there were not strong and specific stylistic differences that developed within Cool and West Coast jazz, but to give a more nuanced understanding of the relationships between East and West Coast jazz musicians of the 1950s, not only for the sake of creating a more accurate narrative, but to provide students of jazz a more authentic approach to the styles and repertoire. I will highlight connections between players on both coasts that have been overlooked in order to simplify the common narrative. I will also examine critical voices and marketing practices of the recording industry. Included in my research are reflections and experiences of actual musicians and others working in the industry during the 1950s. I will also be examining historical and stylistic analysis from the large body of work currently available and looking for connections that have gone unnoticed in the past. The common view of cool jazz of the 1950s is that the West Coast players were cerebral, emotionally understated, and largely white, while their East Coast counterparts were hot, emotional, and physical in their playing, adjectives that have traditionally been ascribed to African American jazz musicians. While there is no doubt that jazz of the 1950s contains pockets of highly intellectual jazz as well as many recordings of raw emotion, to assume that the players responsible for making these musics can be simply separated into diametrically opposed groups by race, geography, or even playing style isn't possible when we consider the actual lives of these musicians. One reason that much of the output of 1950s West Coast jazz musicians has been overlooked in terms of its quality is that there simply has not been the level of scholarly analysis that other musicians' works have received. Eddie S. Meadows points out that Chet Baker, Stan Getz, Gerry Mulligan, and Lennie Tristano, all pillars in the Cool scene have not received attention nearly equal with their output. Often, monographs and biographies of these individuals tend to focus on their colorful personal lives, drug addictions, and breezy California lifestyles, leaving their harmonic, melodic, and arranging contributions unexamined. This is certainly understandable from a publishing point of view; the life stories of Chet Baker and Art Pepper in particular read like some of the most imaginative fiction available. Unfortunately, this focus on limited aspects of musicians' lives has contributed to the general misunderstanding of their musical contributions. The lack of critical attention given to 1950s West Coast and Cool jazz is not unprecedented. As noted by Ted Gioia, when the music was being made, there were far fewer critics and jazz writers on the West Coast than in New York. This resulted in a limited understanding of the music. This imbalance of critical voices lead to under-coverage and more importantly, a bias in jazz writing, as the predominant viewpoint was seen through an East Coast lens. An example of a major publication review by a less than qualified jazz critic illustrates how an outsider to the music, with a less-than-comprehensive understanding of jazz, could have a major impact on a fledgling cool ensemble and sway public opinion. The New Yorker's classical music critic, Winthrop Sargeant, wrote an early review of Miles Davis's Birth of the Cool ensemble, labeling it not really jazz. Interestingly, he describes the work as having a great sense of aural poetry and a very fastidious feeling of tone color, a description that could also be given to much of Duke Ellington's output. This review is significant because Sargeant, who describes himself as I, who do not listen to jazz recordings day in and day out is writing about the music as an outsider. As a casual listener in New York, Sargeant most likely viewed jazz through the lens of what was dominant in New York, bebop and other hot' styles. He therefor viewed the music as totally contrary to his perception of jazz, missing the connections to the work of Ellington and Thornhill, which tie this group's output to the mainstream of jazz. Sales were minimal and the group, which is now regarded as groundbreaking, lasted only a couple of years, performing minimally. In many ways, Jazz is an art form best experienced in live settings, with musicians expressing themselves uniquely on the same tunes each night. Major publication reviews of West Coast musicians' club dates in San Francisco and Los Angeles were simply not possible in the 1950s due to the concentration of critical voices in New York. One wonders whether the vitality and urgency in this new wave of players' live performances would have lead to a deeper understanding of the music had it been documented more frequently at its time of inception. One notable exception to this lack of coverage confirms this suspicion. In February of 1953, Time magazine ran an article about the Monday night performances of Gerry Mulligan's piano-less quartet at the Haig Club in Los Angeles, leading to capacity crowds and an extraordinarily successful single of My Funny Valentine. When speaking of the development of West Coast and cool jazz, the traditional narrative suggests that jazz migrated from New York and other points East to California, where something changed. The West Coast is inaccurately treated as a barren musical desert prior to this migration. A more thorough examination shows that decades earlier, musicians such as Jelly Roll Morton, Kid Ory, King Oliver, and others came to California from New Orleans, mingled with local players and had a significant presence in the Jazz Age of the 1920s. This omission is significant because a closer examination of the roots of jazz in California leads exactly back to the roots of jazz in New York, via New Orleans. In fact, the first printed use of the word Jazz is believed to have been used in the San Francisco Bulletin in 1913. Neither new York nor California has ever been culturally homogenous and understanding these common ties in the origins of jazz on both coasts can help us to understand another interesting phenomenon of the 1950s; that cool jazz developed somewhat independently on both coasts, simultaneously. The much-treasured geographical divide of East Coast-West Coast breaks down rather quickly when we consider where many of the musicians originate from, where they spent the majority of their working careers, and where many of the records that have come to define genres were actually made. The geographical division makes even less sense when we factor in touring bands, broadcast media, and national publications. How can a musician like Lee Konitz who was born in Chicago and recorded many of his seminal cool recordings in New York be associated with the West Coast? As Ted Gioia points out in West Coast Jazz, Dave Brubeck's hiring of Massachusetts-native Joe Morello on drums became a highly successful turning point for the superstar West Coast quartet. Shelly Manne, a central figure in the Los Angeles scene, was a popular drummer and owner of the famed jazz club, Shelly's Mannehole. He illustrated the irony of the label West Coast Jazz' frequently as he introduced his band each night. On Tenor Richie Kamuca from Philadelphia, PA; on trumpet Joe Gordon from Boston, Mass; on bass Monty Budwig from Pender, Nebraska; our pianist is Victor Feldman from London, England; I'm Shelly Manne from New York City We play West Coast Jazz! In, The History of Jazz, Ted Gioia shows that of many Cool and West Coast jazz musicians had very East Coast roots. Illustrative were the players who gathered in the Fifty-fifth Street apartment of Gil Evans to form the ensemble for the Miles Davis experiment, Birth of the Cool. Although not commercially successful at the time, the group's emphasis on light textures, complex arrangements, and unusual use of instrumentation, including french horn, tuba, and the omission of tenor sax, left an indelible mark on its members. Lee Kontiz, Gunther Schuller, Gerry Mulligan, Kenny Clarke, and John Lewis all became important figures in Cool and West Coast styles upon the groups disintegration. It should be noted that the title Birth of the Cool, was not the working title for this project and was added several years later by someone from Capital Records. We will examine the impacts of marketing on our understanding of Cool and West Coast jazz elsewhere in this paper. Gioia also traces the roots of John Lewis and the Modern Jazz Quartet, one of the cornerstones of West Coast Jazz to their beginnings as the rhythm section for Dizzy Gillespie's big band. While playing with Gillespie, one of the biggest proponents of hot and physical playing, this rhythm section was performing at the pinnacle of bebop and afro-cuban style jazz. After leaving Gillespie's band, the Modern Jazz Quartet became renown for contrapuntal textures and a near chamber-like approach to performance. This is not to suggest that the MJQ was devoid of emotion or intensity. Vibraphonist Milt Jackson brought a devil-may-care attitude to much of his improvisation in the group, a trait which was emphasized through thoughtful arranging by the group's leader, John Lewis. Lewis also followed in Gillespie's footsteps as a leader, demanding that his art be taken seriously. This example of a rhythm section finding success in cooler styles was common in the 1950s, and rhythm section players were some of the most fertile cross-pollinaters of the time. Although often overlooked in liner notes, a nimble and sensitive rhythm section is often the key to success for a major soloist. The trio of Wynton Kelly, Paul Chambers, and Jimmy Cobb were a dynamic and highly versatile group of musicians who recorded with both East and West Coast players during the 1950s and early 1960s. Known simply as The Rhythm Section, this trio recorded Miles Davis's Kind of Blue and Art Pepper's Gettin' Together within the same two years of recording with Bill Henderson, Wayne Shorter, and John Coltrane. The ability of these musicians to record with bandleaders of such diversity proves that they were well versed in hot and cool styles. Powerhouse saxophonist Sonny Rollins recorded his Way Out West with Ray Brown and Shelly Manne in 1957, which proved to be a landmark recording for the saxophonist who had been having difficulties with pianists previously. This album is particularly significant because Rollins was widely recognized as one of the most advanced and creative saxophonists during the late 1950s. Presumably Rollins would have had the opportunity to record with practically anyone he wished, yet here he finds success with a cooler rhythm section. These albums are not offered as anecdotal evidence or lucky occasions but as significant contributions to the jazz recording legacy that would not have been possible were it not for their unique mixing of East and West Coast musicians, proficient in both hot and cool styles. These albums differ from the examples below, which were put together by record labels for marketing purposes. Record promoters, jazz historians, and those looking to insight racial divisions have oversimplified the realities of the 1950s jazz scene. They have overlooked the many common connections and relations that reflect the realities of life of the musicians as well as the musical traits that were inherent in all styles of jazz. Eddie S. Meadows describes how print and broadcast media often promoted cool jazz as an alternative to Bebop, which many outlets associated with substance abuse and the Black Power movement. By looking at this new brand of jazz from such a limited and superficial point of view, the jazz media created a narrative of a separate and distinct style, largely made by whites, for whites, regardless of the similarities and the simple fact that many of the same musicians were involved on both sides of the divide. In Jazz in Black and White, Charley Gerard describes how black and white bandleaders frequently hired sidemen of the other race, and places the blame for racial tensions in the jazz scene on white critics. Many black musicians loathed white critics, whom they felt gave preferential treatment to white musicians. It is important to recognize that the source of racial tensions was the treatment of black musicians by white critics, rather than white musicians, in order to understand the complexities of race relations in the jazz community. In the forward to California Cool, William Claxton, who was a very active photographer for Pacific Jazz and Contemporary Records, describes how West Coast Jazz has been labeled inaccurately as a white man's development by describing how many black players such as Dexter Gordon, Hampton Hawes, and Benny Carter came to prominence during this time, releasing their own albums as leaders and frequenting stages up and down the coast. This is confirmed by Charley Gerard, who lists John Lewis, George Russell, Art Farmer, and Chico Hamilton as examples of successful black musicians in the Cool scene. Claxton notes the differences in album cover designs between record labels based in New York, who were creating hard edged and gutsy looks as opposed to what he and others were doing in California. Claxton explains these differences in imagery surrounding jazz musicians as being due to demand. In the mid 1950s jazz records were being produced at such a rapid pace that labels were forced to create visual narratives to help consumers differentiate between them, ultimately driving sales. While this visual duality was useful for branding purposes, it contributed greatly to the misconception that the two trends were fundamentally different and mutually exclusive. This emphasis on visual marketing was a relatively new concept in the 1950s as the LP record came into prominence with its 12X12 inch cover, a feature record labels were quick to notice for marketing potential. During the 1950s prominent labels released albums with musicians from both East and West Coasts. These albums frequently had titles such as Blow Hot, Blow Cool (Decca) or East Coast-West Coast Scene (RCA), complete with cover art depicting musicians squaring off as if in contest. The cover of Blow Hot, Blow Cool, is divided in half; the Blow Hot side featuring saxophonist Herbie Fields on a bright red background facing off against the Blow Cool side, which features trumpeter Stu Williamson in muted blue. The much less subtle The Trombones Inc. (Warner Bros), features drawings of mobs of red and blue colored knights wielding trombones as weapons with a text reading They met at the continental divideit wasn't exactly a battle These covers practically invite jazz fans to listen for differences, or choose a winning side. The covers of many West Coast albums from the 1950s show that the marketing strategy was highly effective. Before even listening to the music, the casual jazz fan is invited by the visual imagery to form an opinion of what West Coast Jazz is all about. Many of the records issued by Contemporary, Pacific Jazz, Fantasy, and other labels featured candid-looking shots of smiling musicians, often appearing as if sharing a joke with bandmates. A dreamy-eyed Bud Shank lying on his side with his saxophone fills the entire cover of Pacific Jazz 1230, while Contemporary's Poll Winners Three! (S7576) features Barney Kessel, Shelly Manne, and Ray Brown smiling and laughing. At times the covers bordered on the absurd; RCA's Blues and Vanilla (LPM 1451) features Jack Montrose and Red Norvo licking giant ice cream cones while Contemporary's Four! (C3553) features the musicians laughing and swinging golf clubs. World Pacific's album Jazz West Coast vol. 3 (JWC-507) features a man in a wet suit climbing out of the sea with a trumpet in one hand and a spear gun in the other, while Volume 4 from the same label (PJ 0510) simply has a picture of a boat. These covers are certainly fun and were extraordinarily effective marketing devices, but they have little to nothing to do with the harmonic, rhythmic, and melodic content in their grooves. These covers were significant in creating misconceptions about the seriousness of the music contained within, particularly when contrasted with their East Coast counterparts, which often depicted musicians in black and white, faces strained as they played in densely-packed clubs. As we have seen, critics and record labels have had a major impact on the public's perception of 1950s jazz styles, a legacy that has continued for decades. While it is easy to imagine that the musicians responsible for this body of work created or embraced the labels and divisions that we have come to know them by, this is in fact inaccurate. As we will see below, several key figures expressed a dislike for the West Coast and cool labels, which have been applied to their music from outside. Lee Konitz, the prolific alto saxophonist, was one of the first and only players contemporary with Charlie Parker to not submit to the latter's massive impact on the style of saxophone playing in the 40s and 50s. As a result, Konitz has often been referred to as a cool' or cerebral' player. In a series of interviews with Andy Hamilton for his book, Conversations on the Improviser's Art, Konitz discusses his dislike of these labels at length. According to Konitz, all of the great players, Armstrong, Bird, Young, played in a guileless and natural way when they were at their best, something he and those around him strove for in their own music. He draws a connection from these older players to his own music, which he frames as being an extension of their heartfelt authenticity, rather than an intellectual or dispassionate offshoot, as many who use the term cool' in a pejorative since might.

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