Sully and the Singers: A Tale of Two Cruises

Collaboration Magic and the Beauty of Jazz

One benefit of retirement, obviously, is time flexibility. Sailing on two consecutive one-week cruises while working full time would have been unlikely, but that’s just what we did in January. First there was The Jazz Cruise (TJC) and then it was Blue Note At Sea (BNAS).

Each was run by Jazz Cruises, LLC, formerly Entertainment Cruise Productions, out of St. Louis and headed by Michael Lazaroff. The company also does two other cruises devoted to smooth Jazz, but the company’s history started with the first Jazz Cruise put together by Mr. Lazaroff’s mother, Anita Berry, in 2001.

Among the two cruises’ dozens of highlights were two concerts, one from each cruise, with a special commonality making them irresistible: collaboration magic with phenomenal pianist Sullivan Fortner accompanying an extraordinary vocalist.

Sullivan was scheduled to appear with Cecile McLorin Salvant on BNAS, which was one very good reason to book that cruise. In a similarly great reason to book, Dee Dee Bridgewater was bringing a working band with her for TJC the week before. When something came up to prevent Carmen Staaf from taking the piano with Dee Dee’s band, the call went out to Fortner to come aboard a week early. Now, that was a perfect phone call.

Dee Dee

It seems there is only one vocalist to attain the following trifecta: win a Grammy (three, actually), win a Tony, and become a National Endowment of the Arts Jazz Master. In truth, these are but three of a long list of accolades for Dee Dee Bridgewater. More impressive than the number of her achievements and awards, though, is their breadth. At 72, Dee Dee remains in her lengthy prime, a force of nature.

Known primarily as a Jazz singer, Bridgewater has also had successful forays into pop, R&B, acting, and philanthropy. In short, she does well and does good in virtually anything she undertakes. As a result, anyone about to see Dee Dee Bridgewater can be sure a treat is in store, with little idea what treat it will be. As a headliner on 2018’s Blue Note At Sea, for example, she did a concert of songs associated with her birthplace, from her 2017 album Memphis…Yes, I’m Ready.

Moments into her concert on this year’s Jazz Cruise, after thanking Fortner for taking the gig on such short notice, Dee Dee announced that she would be doing an entire set of Billie Holiday.

For many singers, this could be problematic. Taking on the music of the inimitable icon tempts lesser talents to make one of two mistakes: either try to imitate Lady Day or ignore her altogether in doing lame versions of her stuff. Adding to the potential for trouble was the timing: the show was just a few hours after the ship set sail on day 1, and immediately after the big Welcome Concert in which headliners participated. Bridgewater and Fortner may not have had a chance to say “hello”, much less rehearse.

This being a savvy crowd, however, there were no muffled groans, but rather murmured excitement, coming from the audience. Many undoubtedly were aware of Bridgewater’s celebrated portrayals of Billie in Lady Day in 1987 and 2014 and her 2010 Grammy for Eleonora Fagan: To Billie With Love. Sure enough, those lucky enough to be there soon witnessed the special magic that only Jazz can provide.

The Concert

Dee Dee did what masters do. She was her gifted self, but captured the spirit of Billie – wisdom drawn from painful experience, joy where salvageable, and the essence of the blues regardless of song form – without delving into imitation.

Thus, the evoking of a revered influence inspired Dee Dee to be a special version of herself. Any young musicians in attendance, and not just singers, could hardly miss the point; this is how the art form evolves and grows. Meanwhile, there was transcendent piano accompaniment, from the first note through the last. Drawing on his unique combination of virtuosity, taste, and command of Jazz piano history from Harlem stride through swing, bop and beyond, Fortner had something better than perfect at every turn.

By “perfect” here we mean standard classy comping, flawlessly executed. Sullivan went beyond that. The expected was nowhere to be heard. Whether weaving lines underneath the vocals, punctuating with phrases or individual notes, or soloing at Dee Dee’s nodded invitation, Fortner delivered sublime creations. They were better than the expected because they enhanced what a superb singer was creating, right there and then.

None of this was showing off. Everything was in service to the music, to the song in the moment, and to what Dee Dee was achieving – musically and emotionally. It wasn’t long before the two of them were luxuriating in each other’s brilliance, instantly and seamlessly responding to fresh ideas. It is in this rarefied air that real magic happens. In the one-hour set there were moments that took listeners’ breath away, from the understated hurt/anger of “Don’t Explain” to the ironic humor praising those stripes that are really yellow in “Fine and Mellow”.

Sullivan Fortner (p) and Cecile McLorin Salvant (v), Blue Note At Sea 1/16/23

Cecile

There is an exciting wave of remarkably gifted young (20s through mid-30s) singers making their mark in the music these days. Among those wowing audiences and listeners all over are Jazzmeia Horn, Veronica Swift, and Samara Joy (who lived up to her last name on this year’s Jazz Cruise). Leading the way, arguably, is Cecile McLorin Salvant.

Eclecticism comes naturally to Cecile. Born in Miami into both French and Haitian heritage, she studied classical piano and voice starting very young. Her household featured all genres of music. Extensive formal study in both France and the US included a move to Darius Milhaud Conservatory in Aix-en-Provence at age 18. Cecile was 21 when she won the Thelonious Monk International Jazz Competition for vocalists. Her second album, WomanChild, was Jazz Album of the Year in the 2014 Downbeat Critics Poll; it’s been a steady stream of critical acclaim for Salvant ever since.

Hers is a rare instrument, a voice with rich lows and ethereal highs. This tempts comparisons to Sarah and Ella, but her harmonic risk-taking brings to mind my favorite vocal explorer, Betty Carter. The thrill of seeing Carter had much to do with her use of dissonance, unexpected key shifts and other devices that left the listener wondering, “How is she ever going to get out of this one?” Then she would resolve everything brilliantly, of course; you imagined her winking at you.

When Cecile takes on a standard, she probes aspects seldom previously explored. Her other two sources of material, generally, are her own compositions and obscure songs from every realm, especially show tunes and folk songs from anywhere. If she launches into something unfamiliar, an initial impression from esoteric, dated or quirky lyrics can be that the piece’s obscurity was well earned. It isn’t long, however, before Salvant injects pain, humor, wisdom, irony, or other slices of humanity with an unexpected phrasing, bent note, or key change. Wonder quickly replaces skepticism for the listener paying attention.

Taking In the Set

Cecile does not so much sing a song as become its protagonist. She inhabits a song while performing it. Perhaps that’s why her interludes between selections can be a bit longer, and her exchanges with Fortner more substantive, than typically heard between singer and accompanist. She’s coming down from one role and taking on another.

Theirs was a true collaboration, as it always is, with exchanges both playful and knowing. One gets the feeling that Cecile and Sullivan take sly joy in proposing to each other songs to perform. Once one of them starts, however, they’re all business in creating something special with the piece.

There is something else that makes Salvant and Fortner an intriguing pairing. Each of them is on the artistic journey of discerning exactly what to do with their prodigious talents and how to utilize their limitless resources. Delights await those who search the Internet for their two names together. Imagine what’s to come.

Sullivan

Then there’s hearing Sullivan Fortner when he’s not accompanying, but leading, at the piano – whether alone, in a larger group, or leading a trio. We did, several times between the two cruises. Tellingly, so did a number of other pianists. One of the pleasures of being on a Jazz cruise is seeing the kick great musicians get out of listening to each other, as many of them do.

When Sullivan was playing in one of the ship’s venues, it seemed any pianist on board not playing elsewhere was there. The delight on their faces validated what I was feeling, and reflected an artist’s appreciation more profound than anything I could muster. (At https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BuUUoMsRXTU, one can see him leading a trio in concert.)

In the pantheon of history’s pianists, one who does not always appear as high up on the lists as he deserves is Jaki Byard (1922-1999). One of the joys of seeing or hearing Byard was the command he had of virtually everything that had preceded him on the instrument right through the current cutting edge. Byard employed just about all of it on many of his wondrous solos with the great band Charles Mingus brought to Europe in 1964 (Eric Dolphy, Clifford Jordan, Johnny Coles, Byard, Mingus and Dannie Richmond). See in particular the versions of the masterpiece “Meditations on Integration” available from that tour. At only 36, Fortner seems intent on bringing similar mastery through the 21st Century.

How does one so young acquire such musical resources? An interview of Fortner by another astounding young pianist on both cruises, Emmet Cohen, (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6MTzH0QffiU) provides a hint, starting around the 19-minute mark. In going over Fortner’s musical upbringing in the church, Cohen has Fortner tell the story of how as a kid, he’d be handed a cassette of a new piece, listen to it once and “have it”. He had it not just for that day’s service but for years to come, and not just the piano part but what the altos and tenors in the choir were singing.

Emmet Cohen describes realizing “Wow, this is a different kind of mind that Sullivan has, to be able to channel everything he’s ever heard into something he can express through his fingers…this guy thinks differently than anyone I’ve ever encountered.”

Indeed.

Appreciation

Generational talents of different generations (Dee Dee and Sullivan) and the same (Cecile and Sullivan) collaborated to create something truly special. In our two weeks of jazz cruising, they were hardly alone. It was, like Jazz itself, an embarrassment of riches, from and for all generations.

Recall a time when you had a really good idea, nobody squashed it, you brought it to fruition, and it worked. How did that feel?

Somewhere, right now, an unknown fourteen (or thirty, or seventy) year-old is working on something exciting that peers and even teachers may consider wrong, silly or crazy. Maybe that idea changes everything. Maybe the idea is in a setting other than music.

Happy Jazz Appreciation Month. What we celebrate is the music, of course, but it’s also the daring to be creative, to be open to all that is possible as human beings.

Ken Bossong

© 2023 Kenneth J. Bossong

Reflections on a JAM – and the Jam We’re In

Art tends to both reflect and affect the cultural milieu in which it’s created. That seems especially so in the case of Jazz music.

April is designated Jazz Appreciation Month (JAM). Reflecting on that during this April revealed few aspects of Jazz history more worthy of appreciation than its significant role in Civil Rights. This is in homage to just a few of the most notable highlights – out of countless works worthy of mention.

Billie Holiday – “Strange Fruit”

It has been argued that the recording on April 30, 1939 and subsequent release of this song was the first act of America’s Civil Rights movement. Indeed, an entire book was written to make the point – Strange Fruit: Billie Holiday and the Biography of a Song by David Margolick. (Echo Press, 2001. It is also found as Strange Fruit: Billie Holiday, Cafe Society, and an Early Cry for Civil Rights. Running Press, 2000.)

The details vary with who’s telling the story, but one account of the song’s creation is that the incomparable Lady Day was accompanied by Frankie Newton’s band at Café Society in Greenwich Village when a fan approached her with a poem he had written excoriating lynchings. The song is credited to a “Lewis Allan”; his real name was Abel Meeropol, an English teacher from the Bronx. Holiday and Newton’s pianist, Sonny White, worked out a melody and the rest is history.

It’s better, though, to read the book. It presents as more likely that Meeropol created the melody as well, and had it performed publicly a few times before it found its way to Billie. Sonny White did create the recording’s piano intro. Milt Gabler’s Commodore recorded the song when Columbia found it too hot to handle.

If you have ever heard Billie Holiday’s original rendition, you’ve likely never forgotten it. If you haven’t, as with any piece mentioned here, you owe it to yourself. She uses understatement (soft, even tones and precise diction) for one of the most effective presentations of smoldering rage ever captured. One can only imagine experiencing it live. Most accounts speak of stunned, total silence following the song’s harrowing conclusion – giving way eventually to a groundswell of applause.  It was Time Magazine’s Song of the Century.

Yusef Lateef – “Juba Juba”

The album The Blue Yusef Lateef (Atlantic 1508) contains this striking piece that manages to capture a vast swath of American music in 4:20. Based on the field holler/work song format and inspired by a prison song, the performance features wailing blues harmonica and Lateef’s masterful jazz flute. Cissy Houston’s Sweet Inspirations frame the proceedings with a gorgeous spiritual-infused vocal background. The only actual word they sing is “freedom”.

Lateef’s liner notes dedicate the piece to nineteenth-century dancer William Henry Lane, known as Juba. The art of Pattin’ Juba (also called Hambone) involved clapping hands or slapping them on thighs, knees, or ribs for complex rhythmic patterns to accompany dance. Juba was an ingenious African-American form utilizing the human body as percussive instrument.

For the listener, though, the piece needs no explanation.

Duke Ellington – “Come Sunday”

The centerpiece of Ellington’s momentous suite Black, Brown and Beige is this beloved hymn-like ballad that was the forerunner to Duke’s celebrated “sacred concerts”. Apart from rehearsal performance, the premiere was in Carnegie Hall on January 23, 1943. While words weren’t necessary to convey the meaning, Duke added lyrics later. The refrain: “Ooh Lord, dear Lord above/ God almighty, God of love/ Please look down, and see my people through.”  

The February 1958 version featuring Mahalia Jackson on Columbia (CK65566) is especially recommended.

Nina Simone – “Mississippi Goddam”

For the gifted, classically-trained pianist Eunice Kathleen Waymon, a career as a concert pianist was foreclosed before having a chance to commence. (Need we say why?) This gave the world the one-and-only singer/pianist Nina Simone. Any number of her recordings could be mentioned here, of course, but no such list would be complete without “Mississippi Goddam”. (The song’s title is usually spelled without the “n”.)

Simone recorded it often and was incapable of a poor performance. A special treat is available, however: you can watch her perform it live in Holland in 1965 on her Jazz Icons DVD. Whatever version is available, though, the most striking aspect is one of contrast.

If one were to listen casually, paying no attention to the lyrics, the impression would be of an irresistibly jaunty, even catchy, pop tune. Just reading the lyrics, however, leaves the unmistakable impression of exasperated fury. Paying attention to the integrated performance rewards the careful listener with the compelling experience of art.

Charles Mingus – “Fables of Faubus” and “Meditations on Integration”

Composer, arranger and bassist extraordinaire, Mingus is another artist for whom many brilliant works could be cited. Let’s do two.

The trauma surrounding the integration of Little Rock’s Central High School in 1957 inspired “Fables of Faubus”. It is available as an instrumental, as on the Columbia album Mingus, Ah, Um. The version you definitely want to hear, however, is from 1960 on Barnaby Candid Series Z 30561, Charles Mingus Presents the Charles Mingus Quartet. Here you get the benefit of the “vocals” between Mingus and drummer Danny Richmond as they heap invective on Arkansas governor Orval Faubus and other deserving targets. Eric Dolphy’s scathing alto sax puts finishing touches on a classic satirical put-down.

It is said Mingus considered the band he took on tour to Europe in 1964 his greatest ever. You’ll get no argument here. Even considering the formidable competition other groups present, Eric Dolphy (as, bc, and f), Clifford Jordan (ts), Jaki Byard (p), and the ever-present Dannie Richmond (d) created astounding fireworks with Mingus’s bass, apparently every night. (Johnny Coles (t) was sidelined by illness not long into the tour.) Luckily, this group was both recorded (Prestige 34001) and filmed (Jazz Icons DVD).

From this tour emerged one of Mingus’s masterpieces, the complex and beautiful “Meditations on Integration”. The DVD has three different versions. With improvisers of this caliber, each version has much to commend it. The tour-de-force recorded in Belgium, however, is astounding. Dolphy is at his incomparable best on both bass clarinet and flute; Byard takes us on a tour of 20th Century piano form Harlem stride to swing to bebop and beyond; and Jordan does some serious testifying on tenor. The band is telepathic in response to each other’s inventions; seeing creativity on this level with such skill and passion is a thrill.

John Coltrane – “Alabama” (Live at Birdland and Jazz Casual)

Musicians and fans alike eagerly awaited each recording of Coltrane’s Classic Quartet (McCoy Tyner, Jimmy Garrison, Elvin Jones); Live At Birdland (Impulse A-50) was no different. The incendiary “Afro-Blue” was thrilling, but the haunting “Alabama” was the perfect example of no-lyrics-necessary.

One of the most heinous acts of the 1960s was the bombing by Klan cowards of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham on September 15, 1963. Set to maximize harm on a Sunday morning, the bomb injured many and killed four little girls – Addie Mae Collins, Denise McNair, Carole Robertson, and Cynthia Wesley.

Even on first listening, there can be no doubt what “Alabama” is, and what it means.

Luckily, this too has a version to be viewed. On December 7, 1963, ‘Trane’s Quartet appeared on Jazz critic Ralph Gleason’s TV show, Jazz Casual. The DVD features “Afro-Blue”, “Alabama”, and “Impressions”.

Max Roach – “The Dream/It’s Time”, “Mendacity”; and We Insist! Freedom Now Suite (entire album)

Chattahoochee Red (Columbia FC 37376) is not one of master drummer Max Roach’s most famous albums, but it features the two-part “The Dream/It’s Time”. The piece opens with an amazing duet of sorts: Max drumming accompaniment to Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech. It then morphs into “It’s Time”, the title track from a marvelous Roach record on Impulse (A-16).

Another Impulse album (A-8), and one of his best, Percussion Bitter Sweet, gives us Max’s celebrated tribute to Marcus Garvey, “Garvey’s Ghost” and “Mendacity”, a send-up of the dishonesty that is inevitably built into systemic racism. Each cut highlights the remarkable vocalist Abbey Lincoln, who had rejected record producers’ attempts to rely on her physical beauty to sell comfortably popular music.

Then there is We Insist! Freedom Now Suite, originally recorded on Candid in 1960 and re-released by Columbia (JC 36390) twenty years later. Abbey Lincoln is featured throughout an album that took all-in commitment from the leader and each musician to achieve.

Start with “Driva’ Man” as it invokes history’s harsh realities, then the elegant and hopeful “Freedom Day”, before proceeding (if you dare) to “Tryptich: Prayer/Protest/Peace”. On the latter’s challenging journey, Lincoln’s wordless vocals pair with Roach’s drums. How challenging is it? The middle section is the primal scream of these works; it’s hard to imagine Abbey did not harm her vocal chords conveying such rage. She is back to chant the names of African tribes in “All Africa”, which transitions into “Tears for Johannesburg”, and the close.

Conclusion: What a JAM!

About a century after passage of the 13th, 14th and 15th Amendments to the Constitution, it took real courage in addition to unmatched skill to record the works mentioned here. Such music (and much else like it) clearly made inroads. Thus the unforgivable Jim Crow era was interrupted by occasional, sporadic events encompassing or resembling progress, like Brown v. Board of Education, and passage of the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act.

I have marked anniversaries of the Supreme Court decision in Brown with presentations that use these and other musical triumphs. The presentation is called “With All Deliberate Speed”, which was how the Court directed that Brown be implemented in the 1955 follow-up case Brown II. Since there is still de facto segregation in many areas’ schools, despite some progress, we can see how that’s gone. It’s been deliberate, alright.

Yet, another half century has passed and we are relieved (!) that a murder committed in plain view, and recorded for all to see, actually results in a conviction. A political party loses the Presidency and the Senate, and concludes the lesson to be learned is not the need to earn back the voters’ trust and support, but the need to suppress votes.

We’ve been in a major “jam” of our own making for decades, indeed for centuries. It is the sheer, destructive insanity of racism.

Jazz Appreciation Month 2021 provided a perfect opportunity to reflect on all this. I kept coming back to perhaps my favorite song of all from this period, “Retribution “, from one of Abbey Lincoln’s two greatest albums as a leader, Straight Ahead. (The title track is almost as good, by the way: “Straight ahead, the road keeps winding…”)

Nothing replaces hearing it, of course – “Give me…NOTHING” – but Abbey’s “Retribution” lyrics perfectly capture the proper perspective:

Never was a child
Living life since I was ten
Heard every story told
Been everywhere but in
And I ain’t disillusioned
Always knew confusion’s story

Don’t want no silver spoon
Ain’t asking for the moon
Give me nothing
Don’t want no favors done
Just let the retribution
Match the contribution, baby

No street that’s paved with gold
Don’t need no hand to hold
Hand me nothing
Don’t want no sad song sung
Just let the retribution
Match the contribution, baby

Suggesting “It’s Time!” branded Max Roach a daring radical in 1962. In truth, it was ridiculously, appallingly past time even then – and that was 59 years ago.

For God’s sake.

Ken Bossong

© 2021 Kenneth J. Bossong