“Ed Blackwell is one of the major drum influences of the twentieth-century. Through his connection to the African diaspora, his so-called avant garde drumming implied all world music, ancient to the future.” Master drummer Billy Hart

In the late 1960s-early 1970s the ancestor Chicago tenor saxophonist Clifford Jordan produced a series of recordings as part of his “Dolphy Series.” Those recordings were originally slated for a partnership Clifford forged with a book publishing company called Frontier to release his series. That never happened and Jordan turned to Stanley Cowell and Charles Tolliver‘s indie imprint Strata-East Records. The crown jewel of the series was Jordan’s long out of print Glass Bead Games date.

A couple of months ago ace record producer Michael Cuscuna asked me to write liner notes for a box set he was planning for his important Mosaic reissue label. When Cuscuna detailed the contents of this proposed Clifford Jordan box set, I was delighted to learn that one of the discs contained a previously unreleased session led by the distinctive, late great drummer Edward Blackwell. Born in 1929 in New Orleans, Blackwell was a true keeper of that distinctive New Orleans drum beat that encompassed such a rich tradition going all the way back to the root source of jazz and including what is popularly known as that distinctive “second line” rhythm; those rhythms which propelled the second line of traditional New Orleans funeral mourners cum revelers who solemnly followed the funeral cortege and brass band to the internment, then joyously danced their way back from the cemetery to celebrate the deceased.

Ed Blackwell was an upholder of that flame of the first order. He along with fellow trapsman James Black propelled a coterie of restless mid-20th century explorers who sought to expand the New Orleans jazz craft from the classic traditional approach to a more advanced sensibility reflecting the developments happening in New York and other environs that ushered in the modern jazz era. Blackwell participated fully in these various developments with players such as saxophonists Harold Battiste and Nat Perrilliat, pianist Ellis Marsalis, and clarinetist Alvin Batiste.

Blackwell, who passed from kidney complications in 1992, became one of the most singular drum stylists on the New York scene after first relocating from NOLA to L.A. then to NYC on the heels of the Ornette Coleman Quartet’s auspicious migration in 1959. Billy Higgins held down Coleman’s drum chair when the band first ventured East, but Blackwell took over in 1960. In 1970 Blackwell took up residency at Wesleyan University in Connecticut, and throughout that decade well into the 1980s he contributed his formidable rhythm pallet to the bristling Coleman alumni unit known as Old & New Dreams, alongside Don Cherry, Dewey Redman, and Charlie Haden.

Preceding that, in 1967 Ed Blackwell was part of the Randy Weston band that made a historic 18-country State Department-sponsored tour of Africa. Based in part on popular demand for their return following an incredible final tour date performance in the capital city Rabat, in 1969 Ed Blackwell’s family joined Weston and his children in making a home in Morocco. In our many interviews in prep for Weston’s autobiography African Rhythms, Weston recounted several stories about Blackwell. One of the most amusing concerned Langston Hughes’ will, which insisted that Randy Weston play a set at the great writer’s 1967 funeral.

As Randy recounts in our book, “…When [Langston Hughes] died… his secretary called and said, “Randy, in Langston’s will he wants you to play his funeral with a trio,” I thought, “Man, Langston is too much!” They had some kind of religious ceremony someplace else which I was unable to attend. But the ceremony Langston really wanted and had specified in his will was at a funeral home in Harlem. It was a big funeral home that seated over two hundred people with chairs on one side of the place. In the other room was Langston’s body, laid out in a coffin with his arms crossed. The band was Ed Blackwell, Bill Wood [nee Vishnu Wood], and me. They had arranged for us to play in front of the area of the funeral home where the guests sat, surrounded by two big wreaths. Ed Blackwell got very New Orleans, very superstitious about the setting. He said, “Man, I’m not gonna touch those flowers. It’s weird enough we’re here in the first place.” So we had some guys move the flowers so we could set up the band. …We played one hour of all different kinds of blues and in between selections Arna Bontemps read some of Langston’s poetry. …Two weeks later I got a phone call from [Langston’s] secretary, who said, “Randy, I forgot to tell you, Langston said to be sure the musicians are paid union scale.” So despite his superstitious protestations, at least Ed Blackwell got union scale for that unusual gig!

In preparation for the Clifford Jordan/Dolphy Series Mosaic box set liner notes, I spoke with Weston and three drummers – DC-based Peabody Institute drum professor Nasar Abadey, Allison Miller – who had spoken glowingly about Blackwell at a listening session at Tribeca Performing Arts Center last winter alongside Carl Allen – and Lewis Nash – to get their sense of Ed Blackwell’s impact. Look out for the Mosaic box later this fall, but for now I wanted to share Weston, Abadey, Miller, and Nash’s insights on Ed Blackwell.

Ed Blackwell & Charlie Haden

What was it about Ed Blackwell’s drumming that worked so well with your music?
Randy Weston: We were the first ones to play opposite Ornette [in quartet w/Cecil Payne on saxophone] at the Five Spot when he first came to NYC; Leonard Bernstein was there that [opening] night and I wanted to punch him out when he said loudly that Ornette was better than Bird! The first time I heard Blackwell was with Ornette. Blackwell had that special thing New Orleans drummers have – that dance beat; it’s a spiritual thing – and Ed had that – he would do all that polyrhythmic, complex thing but he always had that dance beat.

When did Blackwell and his family join you to live in Morocco?
RW: Blackwell brought his wife & children; we wanted to escape that nonsense (drugs, etc.) in New York. He had that unique ability to mix those rhythms smoothly; he still had that New Orleans pocket, that stemmed straight from Baby Dodds.”

Any fond memories of Blackwell from that tour?
RW: When we played in Rabat, Morocco at the Cinema Agdal – the last concert of the whole tour – Ed’s New Orleans beat took the audience out. He shook up the audience; that concert and his drumming is the reason they wanted us to come back!

Nasar Abadey on Blackwell:
Ed Blackwell was a very quiet humble man. Whenever I had the opportunity to watch and to speak with Mr. Blackwell it became clear to me that he was prominent in introducing the New Orleans sensibility to modern jazz drumming. Of course, this was in line with Vernal Fournier and James Black among others.

What I learned from him in my conversations was his intention to relate to the tradition of always relating to a song’s melody and form by playing it on the drums and not only playing time on the cymbals. He would break away from keeping time to embellish the melodic structure with the snare, toms and bass drum and then continue to the cymbals to resume time keeping. Later you would hear the young Tony Williams explore this concept in Miles’ band. But what was so remarkable is that he did this with various drum rudiments and phrases steeped in the New Orleans style of drumming heard in Congo Square located in the French Quarter and in other venues around the city. These rhythms have become known as the New Orleans clave and cadences originated in Africa.

One more very important point; Mr. Blackwell studied with Mr. Max Roach when he got to New York and Mr. Billy Higgins studied with Blackwell when he arrived in New York. Mr. Billy “Jabali” Hart first made me aware of this fact and in was corroborated in my conversations with both of these gentleman. This thereby established the pecking order and importance of Roach’s influence. Listening to Higgins (“Sidewinder”) and Williams (“Freedom Jazz Dance”) you can hear the legacy of Mr. Ed Blackwell!

Ed Blackwell & Don Cherry made a series of duo recordings

Allison Miller on Blackwell:
I first heard Ed Blackwell with Ornette Coleman on This Is Our Music. I immediately connected to this music. It felt so good! It feels so good. I love the way Ornette, Don Cherry, Charlie Haden, and Ed Blackwell sound together. They sound like a true band, a group of exploratory musicians pushing boundaries together, improvising together, trusting each other, and sharing similar values on and off stage. Another element of connection to this music came from a certain Southern affiliation. I am from Texarkana. Coleman is from Fort Worth, Cherry from Oklahoma City, Blackwell from New Orleans, and Haden is from Iowa City but grew up playing country music. We Southerners feel the beat in a unique way. When my southern “green” ears of 18 years first heard This Is Our Music, I heard and described it as Free Country BeBop! It just blew me away and immediately stamped a smile on my face.

Ed Blackwell’s drumming makes me dance. I can feel his News Orleans roots in his entire approach to improvisational music. He has such a propulsive, buoyant, and joyful feel. His ride cymbal melody is wonderfully loose and I love the way he supports Coleman, Cherry, and Haden, while still participating with the melodic and rhythmic interplay being passed around the bandstand.

My second aural adventure on the Blackwell train was The Avant-Garde, with John Coltrane, Don Cherry, Percy Heath, and Ed Blackwell. This is when I really discovered Blackwell’s melodic sensibility. He takes a wonderfully melodic and swinging solo on Monk’s Bemsha Swing. This solo is filled with rudimental prowess and virtuosity but he never strays from the melody, feel, or form. It is true mastery.

As I said before, I then became obsessed with Blackwell and it became a personal journey of mine to procure every single recorded moment of him, as a side musician and leader. Some of my other favorite recorded moments of Blackwell are: Dewey Redman and Ed Blackwell’s Red and Black in Willisau, all Old and New Dreams, Cherry’s Complete Communion and El Corazon, Coleman’s The Art of the Improvisers and Beauty is a Rare Thing, Karl Berger’s Just Play and Crystal Fire, Blackwell’s What is Be Like?, [Joe] Lovano‘s Sounds of Joy and From the Soul, Archie Shepp‘s The Magic of Ju-Ju, and Jameel Moondoc‘s Judy’s Bounce.

Blackwell’s musical journey never plateaued or settled. He continued to search and explore new ideas, later incorporating polyrhythmic West African rhythms to the drum set and swing feel. His drumming is vertical yet propulsive. He approaches rhythm from the ground up, layering multiple rhythms, creating a palette of hypnotic, melodic, and percolating ostinatos (vamps). He sounds like an orchestra of drummers. I can only imagine how amazing it must have felt to make music with Blackwell.

Blackwell’s insatiable curiosity and exploratory nature inspire me to continue my creative journey as a jazz drummer and composer. I am moved by his ability to marry tradition and the unknown. His unwavering groove has become the soundtrack to my life. He is my “go to” listening experience. I feel the earth in Blackwell’s music.

Thanks Willard. I enjoyed writing about Blackwell. Now I am going to go listen to him.

Ed Blackwell according to Lewis Nash:
I first became aware of the great Ed Blackwell from his recordings with Ornette Coleman, then on the Eric Dolphy/Booker Little live at The Five Spot sessions. My first encounter with him in person was in Phoenix, AZ during the late 70’s, not long before I moved to New York City. I was playing with a saxophone and drums duo which opened for the group Blackwell had come to Phoenix to play with, Old and New Dreams. I was of course excited to hear him play, and to top it off, he was going to play my drums! In addition, the saxophonist (my friend Allan Chase) and I were asked to pick up Blackwell and company (Dewey Redman, Charlie Haden and Don Cherry) at the airport and bring them to their hotel. One of my most vivid recollections is that after we had the group in the car and were leaving the airport, Dewey Redman immediately asked if we knew where he could get some barbeque!

Anyway, we had some nice conversation on the way to the hotel, and Blackwell asked about the drums. I assured him they were fine (a nice set of rosewood finish Gretsch) and he seemed happy to know that. Later that night, after he’d heard me play, he was very complimentary about our opening set, and told me that he really enjoyed listening to me play the drums. That was such an awesome thing for me to hear from a great drummer that I greatly admired! I asked about having a lesson, but there really wasn’t enough time the next day before they had to leave.

I heard Blackwell play many times after I moved to New York, but the next time I had an opportunity to really hang out with him was at a jazz festival in Japan during the late 80’s. We finally had a chance to sit down together at a drumset, and he showed me a lot of the things he had worked out and talked about his 4 way independence concepts (hands and feet playing four distinct rhythms simultaneously). He sat down and wrote out several rhythms on a sheet of paper (which I still have) and explained to me what each hand and foot needed to do, then he demonstrated. It was great!! He also talked at length about Max Roach and what a master he was, and how Max was a major influence on his approach to the drums. Billy Higgins said that Blackwell was like a scientist at the drums (Higgins , and I have to agree completely. The way Blackwell combined and executed rhythms was masterful and required a high level of skill, technique and focus. For me he was a perfect balance of scientist and artist, as he not only had the technical skill necessary, but also the artistic sensibility to make the rhythms dance and feel good. Blackwell was one of the most swinging, grooving musicians to ever sit behind the drums!

Ed Blackwell’s other records as a leader:

Pianist Ethan Iverson is known primarily for his work in the Bad Plus, and despite that band’s wink-wink genre-busting and wildly unpredictable repertoire, he’s always shown a great respect and reverence for the jazz canon and for those elders who have made that such a grand tradition. That’s certainly been the case with Ethan’s series of interviews and commentaries in his don’t-miss blog Do The Math (www.dothemath.typepad.com). At the time of Cedar Walton‘s recent passing I went back to read Ethan’s interview with the unassuming but superbly productive NEA Jazz Master. That sit-down with Cedar was one of the absolute best interviews with the under-appreciated pianist. The same is true with his recent DownBeat interview with newly minted NEA Jazz Master Keith Jarrett. In both interviews Iverson displayed enormous respect for both those pianist’s contributions, yet he approached both with a reporter’s sense of getting at the crux of their artistry and their respective contributions, and decidedly not as artist/sycophant.

Ethan Iverson, the intrepid scribe at work on Do The Math…

Ever notice how broad the music can get when musicians of different generations collaborate in a band or studio recording context? Some of the best jazz is made by ensembles that can bring different generational perspectives to the bandstand. I can certainly understand the proclivity of young musicians to interact with their classmates and peers, but young musicians can certainly benefit and make great music in partnership with older, more experienced musicians; and certainly the reverse is true as well, when older musicians engage young musicians outside their generational perspective to make music. Betty Carter, who for many years benefitted from having younger musicians on her bandstand, and actively sought them out even well before her Jazz Ahead training sessions, in conversation would often take her peers to task for not engaging and mentoring younger musicians in their bands, for instead taking the comfortable route of employing peers. One notable recent example of multi-generation magic came at the Chicago Jazz Festival when the wily old NEA Jazz Master Jimmy Heath engaged Winard Harper on drums and Jeb Patton on piano (my bad, completely missed the bassist’s name but he was Patton’s peer), comprising three different generations on the bandstand, and the resulting set was superb. Besides the obvious advantage for young musicians of being mentored by the wisdom of elders, the elders can certainly gain further insight from the contemporary perspectives younger musicians can bring to their bandstand.

In addition to his interviews with the masters, Ethan Iverson has also interacted quite successfully with elders. Excellent examples include his ongoing work with the great drummers Billy Hart and Albert “Tootie” Heath; the latter in trio with Iverson’s peer bassist Ben Street, as evidenced by two lively recordings Live at Smalls (Smallslive) from 2010, and their more recent Tootie’s Tempo (Sunnyside), released a few weeks back. More recently is Costumes Are Mandatory (HighNote), a quartet date with peers Larry Grenadier on bass, Jorge Rossy on drums, and NEA Jazz Master Lee Konitz‘ dry martini alto saxophone. This aspect of multi-generation interaction on the bandstand and in the studio is something the Independent Ear will continue to explore, but for now it seemed time to put some questions on that aspect of his work to Ethan Iverson directly.

Live at Smalls with Albert “Tootie” Heath, Ethan Iverson, Ben Street (Smallslive)

In your blog Do the Math you have frequently interviewed or written about the wisdom of elder musicians, and in your recent collaborations you’ve engaged with elder musicians as well. What’s your sense of what happens from a musical chemistry standpoint when musicians from different generations colloborate for a recording project or join forces in a working band?

In general I think it is best for the younger players to go to the older players. That transmission seems natural, whereas if the older player has to go to the younger that can seem forced. When Joe Henderson tore it up with Wynton Kelly, Paul Chambers, and Jimmy Cobb, he played their Miles Davis repertoire: he didn’t bring in hard Joe Hen originals like “Inner Urge” or “Serenity.” Still, many people consider that live session to be some of the best Joe Henderson.

The minute I wrote that, though, I’m thinking of exceptions. Billy Hart demands “new” all the time from his younger partners, but then again Billy’s a really rare musician indeed.

At any rate, if I play with Billy, Lee Konitz, or Tootie Heath, it takes just a note from any of them to dramatically shift the gravity of the music to a more grounded space. I like history, so for me it feels natural to find a way to see the whole spectrum in these collaborations.

It’s simply an honor. The end result is almost less important to me, really, than just the process of getting in the mix with the masters and trying to absorb some of their depth.

What benefits do you see acruing on both sides of the generational equation when that happens?

I am more confident (although still a student) when dealing with swing after playing with Tootie and Billy. Lee teaches me about singing and melodic beauty. I don’t know if they got anything from me! Better ask them!

Costumes Are Mandatory with Ethan Iverson, Lee Konitz, Larry Grenadier, and Jorge Rossy (HighNote)

What are some of your favorite – either classic or contemporary – examples of successful interactions between musicians from different experience and generational perspectives?

Two of my all time favorite trios are great examples. Hank Jones was the elder with Ron Carter and Tony Williams, and Geri Allen was the youngster with Charlie Haden and Paul Motian. (Both of those groups are direct antecedents of The Bad Plus, by the way.)

I mentioned Joe Henderson w. classic Wynton K. trio already. Another one that’s interesting is when Sid Catlett sits in for Max Roach on “Hot House” with Bird and Diz at Town Hall: of course Max is great, but the music suddenly swings harder with Big Sid.

More recently, I loved that Jason Moran hired Sam Rivers for BLACK STARS. Bill McHenry getting Andrew Cyrille in his band was a stroke of genius. And I’m planning to go see Tarbaby — peers Orrin Evans, Eric Revis, and Nasheet Waits with elder legend Oliver Lake — tonight!

Tootie’s Tempo with Albert “Tootie” Heath, Ethan Iverson, Ben Street (Sunnyside)

Pianist, composer and occasional vocalist Michele Rosewoman, a native of Oakland, CA, has crafted a unique musical perspective that strives to engage both the jazz and Afro-Cuban folkloric traditions. Her immersion in ancient and contemporary Afro-Cuban musical culture has been very impressive; no novice either in her immersion or her execution of these traditions, Michele this year celebrates 30 years of intense study and musical translation through the prism of jazz with the release of a stellar 2-CD set (supported by a successful Kickstarter campaign) titled A Musical Celebration Of Cuba In America (Advance Dance Disques).

In celebration of this release Michele will lead her 30th anniversary New Yor-Uba ensemble at the Lake George Jazz Festival on September 14 and for two nights at Dizzy’s at Jazz at Lincoln Center September 30 & October 1. So how exactly did this successful immersion transpire, what encouraged a young woman endeavoring to make her way through the jazz piano ranks to bring that perspective to an exploration of Afro-Cuban folkloric landscapes? Clearly some questions were in order…

This year marks the 30th anniversary of your New Yor-Uba project. What was your original philosophy in developing New Yor-Uba and how did it come together for you?

As a pianist in Oakland, I came up learning the jazz tradition and eventually found myself extremely interested in extended forms and language which brought me from Bud Powell and Earl Fatha Hines to John Coltrane, Art Blakey, Lee Morgan, Wayne Shorter, Miles, Monk and later to Dewey Redman, Cecil Taylor, Julius Hemphill… When I started playing congas in my teens I went straight into Cuban folkloric traditions. I listened to Los Papines, Guaguanco Matancero and Conjunto Folklorico Nacional and everything I could get my hands on. At that time, recorded music from Cuba was scarce and shared like gems.

Although I didn’t know it then, this was when my personal musical path was truly born. As I felt the transformative nature of this powerful and profoundly sophisticated music, my own musical quest took on 2 distinctive paths – and I didn’t know anyone else who was into both these idioms at that time. One was the improvisational creative traditions of jazz and the other was the folkloric musical traditions of Cuba, including rumba (a uniquely Cuban musical form) and the sacred bata drums and cantos (chants).

Seemingly opposite in nature in that one constantly expands tradition and the other strives to maintain an ancient tradition, I was completely and helplessly immersed in both musical traditions from that point on. I saw parallels between the subtle and sophisticated rhythmic and harmonic aspects of jazz and the highly evolved rhythmic and vocal language of both rumba and bata traditions — the obscuring of the obvious, the ability to play time on a sophisticated level where the ‘one’ is not stated but implied by everything around it.

When i came to NY in 1978, these two worlds of music were still very separate, but for me they were becoming one. I met Orlando ‘Puntilla’ Rios soon after he arrived here from Cuba. A master batalero, congero and vocalist, he brought and shared musical knowledge that had never been available in the U.S. before, including songs in the Arara dialect from Dahomey that are equally a part of the spiritual musical traditions in Cuba. Folks here were more hip to the Yoruba songs. Me and my percussionist friends surrounded Puntilla (Nuyoricans and Afro Americans were prominent among those who had been drawn into Cuban folkloric music at a time when information and recordings were hard to come by) absorbing everything like sponges. For the first time, there was someone with musical and spiritual knowledge of sacred and private practices who wanted to share his knowledge. Puntilla was full of ideas as well and needed American-based musicians/ drummers/vocalists to understand his traditions in order to present them at the highest level.

Puntilla came to know me for what I was musically about. In my dreams, literally, I had begun to hear this sacred music in a contemporary jazz setting and I started writing instrumental environments for them. For the most part, this music had only been performed with drums and vocals at ceremonies (except for the group “Irakere”, which used some of the sacred music in a latin jazz setting). Puntilla was aware of my direction and that the more knowledge I had of both traditions, the better able I would be to bring them together in a righteous way. I studied the bata without playing them -a very hard way to learn (women were not encouraged/allowed to play at that time) – but I was absorbing a rhythmic perspective that would shape my playing and writing in the years to come. I became aware of and attuned to the intricacies of what I consider to be the most profound rhythmic language on earth.

The way I was playing and the music I was writing was already permeated with Cuban rhythmic traditions and it was natural and organic to embellish my original material with folkloric elements. I also started writing arrangements and conceiving music for a large ensemble that were built around repertoire brought here by Puntilla. There were certain Arara songs (from Dahomey and an important part of Cuban folkoric music) that I learned from Puntilla that haunted me until I did something with them. After a while I had a complete repertoire of music to present and in 1983, I applied for and received a National Endowment for the Arts grant for the formation and presentation of “New Yor-Uba, A Musical Celebration of Cuba in America.” The premiere took place in December of 1983 at Joseph Papp’s Public Theater in New York City as a 14-piece ensemble featuring Orlando “Puntilla” Rios. It also featured many of my closest musical associates- a really incredible group of master musicians from both the world of contemporary jazz and Cuban folkloric music including Rufus Reid, Pheeroan akLaff, Kelvyn Bell, Oliver Lake, Baikida Carroll, John Stubblefield, Howard Johnson, Bob Stewart, Rasul Siddik, Butch Morris (conducting), Eddie Rodriguez, Gene Golden, Olu Femi Mitchell and Oscar Hernandez.

Univision Music was the name of my publishing company for many years, (it is now Contrast High Music) which is a word I came up with that best says what my philosophy was behind the formation of New Yor-Uba. I wanted to bring together and unify all the music that had profoundly influenced and touched me, because for me, it aways all felt like it went together. That included funk, by the way, and I came to discover/feel that the traditional bata are unmistakably at the roots of funk. I coined the word ‘Univized’ soon after, which for me, tranlsated to ‘mission accomplished.’

What’s been the evolution of New Yor-Uba down through the years?

The more I learn and the deeper my knowledge, the better equipped I am to do this. I strive for a complete and total integration of forms. My own initial studies of Cuban folklore brought me into this world at a young age and doors continue to open and the family of musicians gets broader all the time, just as this has been true for me in my evolution as a ‘jazz’ musician. One thing leads to the next. No story I tell really has a beginning, everything is so connected. I met Puntilla as a result of this flow and he brought sacred folklore here from Cuba that had not arrived yet–especially from the Arara tradition. While he was in the group, my approach was built around him in many ways. As a result of his commitment and 25 year involvement with the ensemble, tamboleros in Cuba knew about New Yor-Uba. Some have came here with the hope of playing with the ensemble – which is a great honor for me – and this has led to a continuum of the organic involvement of master folklorists, a vital element in this ensemble.

Since Puntilla passed on – and passed the torch – the younger tradition, steeped but flexible percussionists/vocalists that have become a part of the ensemble offer me an opportunity to even further integrate the forms. There are now more bassists and drummers with their feet in both worlds. This was a missing factor in past configurations. In the first stages, I had great conceptual and swinging jazz players that could not really lock with the folklore. At a later stage, I swung the other way and had rhythm section players who could lock with the folklore but who did not have the nuances of jazz and were not geared towards playing conceptually. Now I find musicians who can do both – a real key to the puzzle. As for horn players, I am happiest when I have a horn section full of unique voices – players that avoid cliches and have their own language. Getting the written music played right is important too, but having soloists with originality is for me, as important as the other factors. One of the challenges for this ensemble is that in jazz, we pull the beat so that it feels like we are playing behind and with the rumba and bata traditions, the beat is pulled so that it feels like folks are playing ahead of the beat. In a minute, the horns and the drums can be in different places. I continue to strive for the perfect combination of players and I feel that with this CD, I have gotten as close to it as I have ever been. The personnel will always change and evolve and our evolution as an ensemble is inevitable for this reason, as new voices bring new energy and ideas. And again, my own studies and deepening of knowledge throw open doors of possibility. Lately, my ideas for this ensemble have taken on new dimensions. Although I am just enjoying the moment given that in the weeks to come, the public will finally have full access to hearing the best of what this is and what this has become, I am also looking forward to our next formation and stage of evolution.

Do you see this project as much as a cultural expression as it is musical?

I see it as a cultural and spiritual expression manifested through the music. It brings worlds together on many levels – the tangible and the intangible, the modern and the ancient, tradition and expansion/improvisation. Africa in the Americas – geographical, cultural and spiritual. All these worlds are connected at their very roots. This ensemble connects ME to all of MY roots. It takes us all ‘home’. I will never forget the debut concert – it was sold out with folks standing outside in the rain. Sitting across from each other on the stage, I can still see the awe on the faces of the jazz musicians when the drummers and folkloric tradition were featured, and equally I will always remember the deep respect and curiosity on the faces of the drummers as they listened to the soloists. None of them had ever heard each other’s music at this level. And the break between sets was like half time at a ball game. We fell into a group hug. The worlds were joining. And to know that I had brought them together through my own passion for both worlds, was a special feeling – one that I feel every time we come together in various configurations, through the years..

The continuum – the diaspora – is there to be heard, to be seen. Jazz musicians are taken home to their roots and folkorists see the extension of the African-born traditions of which they are the guardians. It just keeps going. The culture does not die, it expands and seeps into the cracks and permeates. A cultural expression for SURE.

Talk about your 30th anniversary record.

Well first of all, this turns out to be a two CD set. Just too much good music to cut out anymore, after all it is 30 years and our debut CD. It is, for me, the realization of a vision thirty years in the making. Thanks to the musicians who gave their all and wanted this to fully succeed, thanks to a successful Kickstarter campaign and the generous support of the backers, thanks to my partner in production, Liberty Ellman, who served as project manager and also mixed and mastered the recording, and thanks to the contributions of co-producers Habana/Harlem (Neyda Martinez and Onel Mulet) my dream has reached fruition. Everyone involved has wanted all the best for this project and everyone gave their best -including the staff and studio engineers at Systems Two, the videographer Eddie Pagan who created the Kickstarter video, the CD cover designer, Chris Drukker – on and on! The result is a high level of presentation, musically, visually, and in terms of sound quality. And the content of the recording is so diverse and so constantly shifting from one interesting arena to the next. The vocal and drum folkloric traditions are featured, each masterful musician is featured, my compositions and concepts are featured, I am featured as a pianist and vocalist. I am just truly proud and excited.

When, how and where do you plan on celebrating this 30th anniversary of New-Yor-Uba in performance?

We have CD release events at Lake George Jazz Festival on September 14th and at Dizzy’s on September 30th and October 1st. Not all personnel from the recording are on these dates but the personnel [for the two CD release gigs this month] IS as follows and, speaking of evolution–it just doesn’t stop!

Lake George NY Jazz Festival CD release event for September 14th:

Alex Norris (trumpet)
Antonio Hart (soprano/alto saxophones)
Billy Harper (tenor saxophone)
Stafford Hunter (trombone)
Howard Johnson (baritone saxophone, tuba)
Michele Rosewoman (piano, vacals)
Yunior Terry (bass)
Adam Cruz (drums)
Abraham Rodriguez, Abi Holliday, Nicky Laboy (bata/congas/vocals)

Dizzy’s! CD release event for Monday Sept 30/Live WBGO broadcast, and Tuesday Oct 1st. Personnel as follows:

Freddie Hendrix (trumpet)
Antonio Hart (soprano/alto saxophones)
Billy Harper (tenor saxophone)
Vincent Gardner (trombone)
Howard Johnson (baritone saxophone, tuba)
Michele Rosewoman (piano, vacals)
Gregg August (bass)
Adam Cruz (drums)
Roman Diaz /Abraham Rodriguez/Abi Holliday (bata/congas/vocals)

Learn more about this uniquely driven artist at www.michelerosewoman.com.

At the recent Open Dialogue Conference of The Association of American Cultures (TAAC) in Providence, RI I had the pleasure of meeting Neyda Martinez of the Habana/Harlem organization which co-produced Michele’s 30th anniversary New Yor-Uba recording for the Advanced Dance Disques label. I asked Ms. Martinez about Habana/Harlem and its partnership with Michele Rosewoman and New Yor-Uba.

Neyda Martinez of the Habana/Harlem organization

I was introduced to Michele’s work by my colleague and producer, Onel Mulet. After listening to her work and getting to know Michele, I was literally blown away by the integrity, depth, and power of her work. This led us to co-present Michele’s New Yor-Uba ensemble at the Painted Bride in Philadelphia, October 23, 2010, and to our co-producing her historical recording.
Michele’s upcoming performances on Monday, September 30 and Tuesday, October 1, 2013, Dizzy’s Club Coca-Cola, Jazz at Lincoln Center couldn’t be a more fitting way for her to celebrate this creative milestone.

I am indebted to Onel for introducing me and our project, HABANA/HARLEM® to the work of Michele Rosewoman. As a team, Onel and I aim to collaborate with artists who are committed to building community, advancing and challenging their artistic boundaries. We’re honored to be associated with Michele; she is truly a creative force. Her work is of the utmost caliber. While honoring tradition she moves us forward, all with a funky, groovy, and at times, semi-abstract vibe. Her music couldn’t be more culturally specific and perhaps this is what makes her oeuvre so incredibly universal.

HABANA/HARLEM®, an independent cultural production company, nurtures the arts and humanities by advancing contemporary artistic innovation, and supports evolving trends in music through strategic exposition, artist development, performance, distribution, and promotion. The initiative was conceived by myself as executive producer, with producer and creative director Onel Mulet. HABANA/HARLEM celebrates the legacy of this creative nexus, as well as expressions by artists whose work fosters dialogue, cultural appreciation, and greater understanding among diverse communities.

Fueled by the friendship and rich exchange of concepts and ideas between artists such as Chano Pozo and Dizzy Gillespie, among many others, HABANA/HARLEM commemorates the unconditional acceptance of collaborative fluid creativity, which changed the course of music history. Learn more at www.habanaharlem.com

Ain’t But a Few of Us
Black music writers tell their story…

Ron Welburn is a professor in the English Department at the University of Massachusetts-Amherst, and is the Director of the Certificate program in Native American Studies. Of Assateague/Gingaskin & Cherokee Native American and African American heritage, he grew up in the Philadelphia area. As a jazz writer Prof. Welburn was editor of a journal called The Grackle back in the mid-late ’70s, and a former frequent contributor to JazzTimes magazine. He also formerly coordinated the Jazz Oral History Project for the Institute of Jazz Studies at Rutgers University-Newark.

For those new to this series of dialogues, which began in 2010, the basic premise is that despite the historic origins of jazz music, the history of African Americans writing about jazz from a journalistic or critical perspective has not been robust or even representative of the impact African Americans have made on this music, particularly from a sheer numbers perspective. Classic example: none of the major jazz periodicals down through the generations has ever had a black editor.

WHAT MOTIVATED YOU TO WRITE ABOUT SERIOUS MUSIC IN THE FIRST PLACE?
My original motivation, which turned into my first published article in 1963, was what I saw as the discrepancy of radio jazz programming in Philadelphia compared to NY. I was particularly annoyed that the commercial FM deejays Sid Mark, Joel Dorn and Del Shields avoided playing records by Ornette, Cecil, et al, though they played Coltrane, Dolphy, McIntyre, and Prince Lasha. Local pianist Damon Spiro, to whom I expressed my concerns, invited me to submit an article to the tabloid of the Jazz at Home Club, whose sessions I was attending. “What’s Wrong with Philadelphia’s Radio Jazz?” was the article’s title. Those deejays didn’t like it; Hal Ross of WXPN at Penn thought it was great. Sure, I was on a high horse! Once I got to Lincoln University in my native Chester County, PA, I had a chance to review LPs for the school newspaper.

WHEN YOU FIRST STARTED WRITING ABOUT MUSIC WERE YOU AWARE OF THE DEARTH OF AFRICAN AMERICANS WRITING ABOUT SERIOUS MUSIC?
Yes, I became aware of that around the same time (1962?63). As a Down Beat subscriber I learned about Barbara Gardner; then Leroi Jones’ [column] “Apple Cores.” I think trumpeter Kenny Dorham and Bill Quinn began a few years later.

WHY DO YOU SUPPOSE THAT’S STILL SUCH A GLARING DISPARITY – WHERE YOU HAVE A SIGNIFICANT NUMBER OF BLACK MUSICIANS MAKING SERIOUS MUSIC BUT SO FEW BLACK MEDIA COMMENTATORS ON THE MUSIC?
African Americans seem to have promoted few academic outlets for critical music writing. I can only suppose that editors at newspapers and populist magazines feel “serious” music journalism will not interest their readers, and would rather not support a position where artists could be “torn down.”

DO YOU THINK THAT DISPARITY OR DEARTH OF AFRICAN AMERICAN JAZZ WRITERS CONTRIBUTES TO HOW THE MUSIC IS COVERED?
My better frame of reference for this answer is up to about 1984 or so. There’s never been much room for a conversation. Young white writers have chomped at the bit to write about this music, and for gratis. I’ve never figured out, fully at least, why young writers of color tend to shy away from this kind of writing but are in the foreground criticizing those (whites) who do. Maybe it’s an orientation whites have that writers of color in mainstream journalism shun.

When I was reading Latin New York I became aware of good writing by Aurora Flores; and I met and talked with Max Salazar who I don’t think ever pulled together his writings from LNY and other places into a book (and he cautiously shared a few ideas with John Storm Roberts who then wrote The Latin Tinge). Hilly Saunders with his paper and my Cherokee buddy Lewis MacMillan (New York City Jazz Gazette) didn’t promote much critical writing in their publications. I did a few pieces for Ken Smikle’s publication; Ornette Coleman told me he liked the one I wrote on his harmolodic method. Today, I’m among a few Natives writing about Indians in jazz, blues and pop; yet even for these venues the “serious” writing isn’t fully there.

SINCE YOU’VE BEEN WRITING ABOUT SERIOUS MUSIC, HAVE YOU EVER FOUND YOURSELF QUESTIONING WHY SOME MUSICIANS MAY BE ELEVATED OVER OTHERS, AND IS IT YOUR SENSE THAT HAS ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE LACK OF CULTURAL DIVERSITY AMONG WRITERS COVERING THE MUSIC?
First, I haven’t published any serious music reviews since 2001, after some 36 years because I just couldn’t keep up with that, my teaching, serious illnesses of an uncle and a friend, and writing a book. Second, what I’ve seen and studied tells me cultural wars are a mainstay in American life, and I place the onus for them on the music industry more than the musicians. White musicians are just musicians wanting to perform a vibrant music that makes them part of a significant culture. Even those who didn’t or prefer still not to perform with black musicians are just trying to make it. It’s the machinery and politics of culture that exploits them as pawns, and they haven’t got a clue!

People who start publications tend to call on their friends-devotees to write for them. Essentially, that’s how it was with The Grackle: Improvised Music in Transition, which published five issues between 1976 and 1979. The Grackle was meant to be a forum of ideas for us three that created it: James T. Stewart, Roger Riggins, and me. I invited Victor Manuel Rosa to write on Latin/Nuyorican music. But I turned away at least two white writers who virtually begged for opportunities to write. I didn’t like doing that, but I told them they had outlets not accessible to us, and being in the early stages we had ideas we wanted to work out.

HOW WOULD YOU REACT TO THE CONTENTION THAT THE WAY AND TONE OF HOW SERIOUS MUSIC IS COVERED HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH WHO IS WRITING ABOUT IT?
There may be some truth to that but I’m not absolutely sold on it. Serious music journalism has an academic quality, and I see nothing wrong with that. Perhaps it could continue to loosen itself rhetorically; but if writers of color are afraid of offending their readers, whites will always fill the void.

Publishing venues differ according to who they view as their readers. The late Eileen Southern and since the 1980s Samuel Floyd edited academic publications; I don’t fully recall many serious essays about jazz in Southern’s journal. Bear in mind the context that jazz was not considered “serious music” by anybody. Attitudes by writers in the jazz magazines “were what they were”; but the most egregiously racist one I read was a review of Albert Murray’s Stomping the Blues where the reviewer accused him of not knowing anything about the blues!

IN YOUR EXPERIENCE WRITING ABOUT SERIOUS MUSIC WHAT HAVE BEEN SOME OF YOUR MOST REWARDING ENCOUNTERS?
I’ve been blessed by enjoying just about all my encounters that turned into writings either assigned or volunteered. Some were outside the jazz field. Just to name a few:
• While the music editor for the Syracuse New Times didn’t want me writing for it, I published a remembrance in 1972 or so of hearing Albert Ayler for the first time in 1962; and I also covered the Newport Jazz Festival New York and the downtown Counter festival during 1972?75. As he was bearing down on me, and I was leaving, I was able to wave in his face my award of a Jazz Criticism Fellowship from the Music Critics Association and the Smithsonian for my writing in that alternative weekly newspaper. He was sour; but the editor/publisher was delighted.
• Covering a few festivals of Asian music and writing a few articles for Music Journal, at the invitation of Guy Freedman, a wonder individual to whom I was introduced by pianist Ran Blake.
• Reviewing international music recordings for a little Philadelphia-based library publication, Rockingchair. I was studying ethnomusicology at the time and wrestling with Spanish, but also reviewed belly dance music, Greek, Isreali, Arab North African, Bhutanese, French Canadian, Grand Comoro Islands. I had a ball! (I did very well in four years of high school Latin; if I could have chosen another career it would have been linguistics; besides those language cultures I would have focused on southern and eastern Algonquian languages).
• Covering Creek/Kaw tenor saxophonist Jim Pepper at the South Street Seaport, and reviewing Comin’ and Goin’.

WHAT OBSTACLES HAVE YOU ENCOUNTERED – BESIDES DIFFICULT EDITORS AND INDIFFERENT PUBLICATIONS – IN YOUR EFFORTS AT COVERING SERIOUS MUSIC?
Nothing terribly caustic. I learned that editors of black newspapers weren’t concerned about the timeliness of a review; and they were not above cutting the final paragraph or two of a relatively short review, which is what the New York Amsterdam News did, once, maybe twice. But I believe everything happens for a reason. The “breaks” I didn’t get meant I probably wasn’t supposed to be there.

WHAT HAVE BEEN THE MOST INTRIGUING RECORDS RELEASED SO FAR THIS YEAR?
Thanks to Glenn Siegel, music director at UMass Amherst’s WMUA and creator of the Magic Triangle series and Jazz Shares, this year I’ve heard some promising music and CDs by Makaya McCraven, Split Decision (Chicago Sessions CS0018)(albeit a 2012 CD) and Mike Reed’s People, Places & Things: About Us (Music and Mike Reed—well, yes, a 2009 CD).

The most exciting and innovating music I’ve heard in the last five years live and on CD includes Michelle Rosewoman who came here with her ensemble and I bought her The In Side Out and hope she does more orchestrations like that; and Rudresh Mahanthappa, who with his cohort is, I think, rewriting the vocabulary for playing the saxophone as part of, in my experience of listening and as an amateur musician, a long arch coming out of South Asia. A development like this in jazz was bound to happen

Yet, a 1997 concert at Mount Holyoke College by Sonny Rollins tops just about any concert I’d heard before or since. Astounding!!! I’m still speechless!

Drummer-bandleader Willie Jones lll has always impressed as a supremely-skilled, thoughtful craftsman at the traps, someone versatile and comfortable enough to work practically any bandstand fortunate enough to have his skills – from singers to big band and all manner of small group opportunities. In that respect he reminds me of such other flexible fliers as Billy Higgins and more recently Lewis Nash; those drummers whose presence enhances any setting they’re called upon to perform, and are a welcome presence as soon as you walk in the venue and spot who’s at the tubs.

Most recently Willie Jones lll has been piloting his own sextet. Their most recent recording is Willie Jones lll Sextet Plays the Max Roach Songbook, on Willie’s own label imprint. I was intrigued by a drummer answering the call of addressing the music of one of the titans of his instrument, Max Roach. Clearly a few questions were in order.

What are the challenges a contemporary artist like yourself faces in endeavoring to pay homage to a giant of your own instrument?

Paying tribute to Max Roach on record was something I thought about doing for awhile. The engagement at Dizzy’s Club Coca-Cola provided the opportunity. One of the challenges was expressing my own voice through the music without sounding like I’m copying Max.

This recording apparently stems from a series of performances of Max’s music you played at Dizzy’s. Is this recording from one entire evening, or are these performances from throughout that stint?

This recording stems from one night out of that week at Dizzy’s. I picked what I thought would be the best songs for the CD.

You’ve chosen a broad range of pieces from Max’s history. Given how deep Max’s musical life was, how did you go about selecting which tunes you thought best represented Roach’s history?

My favorite period of Max’s career are the mid 50s – the Clifford Brown – Max Roach band – to the late 60s when his band featured Gary Bartz and Charles Tolliver. All the music I chose are from those periods.

You’ve got the always tasteful Eric Reed on piano, despite the fact that pretty much over the last 30 or so years of his recording and performing career Max chose to perform in quartet with no piano. What does Eric bring to these pieces and why did you choose to use piano in the ensemble?

As my favorite periods of Max’s music featured piano, Eric, one of my favorite pianists, was the ideal choice to interpret this music.

This record has come out on your own imprint. What was your original intention in establishing your own label and have you found it a more accommodating situation for yourself than being part of someone else’s label?

I’ve always placed great importance in having ownership of my music – not only my compositions, but having control over how my music is distributed, owning my masters, etc. That Max Roach along with Charles Mingus started their own label, Debut Records, in the early 50s hugely influenced me.

Self releasing is a more accommodating situation as I have more control over how the music is presented. I have final say on the personnel and much more.

Catch up with Willie Jones lll’s activities at www.williejones3.com.