Like most who’ve heard the young Aussie bassist Linda Oh, my starting point was hearing her fresh debut recording "Entry".  Besides the fact that she just kind of materialized on the scene untethered to advance hype, the record was first of all curious because Ms. Oh took the hang-fly route and played her music with a lean and mean trio, including other promising peers drummer Obed Calvaire and trumpeter Ambrose Akinmusire.  The presence of those young firebreathers further stirred the interest.

To properly appreciate a new artist one must experience them live.  That opportunity came a couple of months ago when ASCAP presented a young composer/songwriter showcase on the Kennedy Center’s Millenium Stage.  This time working with Marcus Gillmore on drums and Akinmusire, the petite Ms. Oh strode up to the bass confidently and delivered a set of her originals that, though there were more than a few twists, turns and the occasional knotty passage, garnered much-deserved appreciation from an audience that may have been there more for the singer-songwriter who followed.  Clearly some questions were in order for this promising newcomer.

As a young woman growing up in Australia, what was it about jazz music and improvising in general that attracted you, that made you determine to learn the music?

I grew up in Perth, Western Australia — where there were a lot of really great, young, talented jazz musicians.  Besides playing electric bass in the high school jazz band, I also played bassoon in the local "jazz orchestra" (big band augmented with strings and woodwinds).  I would be sitting in the woodwind section playing written arrangements and turn around to look at the big band.  It was really inspiring to watch these musicians create something on the spot and improvise (especially within a written context) — something I liked to do but really knew nothing about.

How did you go about seeking jazz education opportunities and at what point did you decide to pursue a professional career as a musician?

I took a couple of lessons outside of school from local bass players and also tried to see jazz shows at the one jazz club we had.  I also attended at the time the one jazz workshop for high school kids.  I think I pretty much knew throughout high school I wanted to be a musician, but the actual decision came when I had to submit my university preferences.  At the time it was 1) Jazz Bass, 2) Classical Bassoon, and 3) Law.

The acoustic bass is a physically demanding instrument, if only based on the sheer size of the instrument.  Particularly given the fact that you are a modest-sized person, what is it about the acoustic bass that suits your needs to express yourself musically?

You know it’s funny, I never actually thought about it much and I still don’t.  Ironically, I just wanted to play electric bass and be just like Jaco.  After hearing Ray Brown, Charlie Haden, and Scott LaFaro, I knew it was something I really wanted to do — so I never thought about the physical difficulties.  Initially I would get a little sore because I practiced a lot and it took awhile for me to get my technique together, but really I think if there’s something you really want to do, do it — I don’t think about what possible disadvantages you may have.

Given the fact that many view the bass in more of a supportive role, what drives you to be a bandleader?

I think everybody’s different; I love being a sideman and there’s so much to learn from it — and I have so much respect for people who are only sideman and are really great at it.  But I know that in my career I want to do both — being a leader is a completely different skill.  I love writing my own music and playing my own music as much as I love playing other people’s music.  I wouldn’t be satisfied as a musician being only a sideman.

I’ve done interviews in The Independent Ear previously with saxophonists who lead trios (JD Allen, Marcus Strickland, Jaleel Shaw) that work without a chording instrument in the band, talking about the subsequent challenges they face.  In your case you have an even more unusual trio where not only is the bass player the leader and the composer, but you’re working with trumpet as opposed to saxophone.  What are the main challenges you face as a leader, a player, and a composer in such an unusual trio?

Linda Oh Trio with Obed Calvaire (L) and Ambrose Akinmusire

I chose this setting because it posed many challenges.  First of all trumpet is a physically demanding instrument.  This meant as a leader I have to think about this when I’m putting sets together, rehearsing, organizing tours, and composing; not that I had to dumb down my compositions at all to make things easier, but I had to share the role between the three of us.

There are also many tuning issues when there’s no chordal instrument, between the trumpet and the bass; so we have to think of that when we play (Ambrose and I often have to compromise with the tuning and meet each other) and when I compose, specific keys have to be avoided.

Playing in this [trio] setting is a challenge but it’s so much fun.  After playing this music with Ambrose it’s evolved so much for the better and every time we play a show we’ve taken it in so many different directions.

For a debut recording Entry has been very well received by the critics, it even showed up on some writers’ best-of lists for 2009.  How do you plan on following up?  

Hmm, that’s a tough one; there are just so many things I want to do.  I’ve been writing a lot of jazz quartet with string quartet pieces.  We performed at the Nabi Gallery where half of the show was played in the dark, with members of the band weaving throughout the audience to create a special experience.  This went really well and I know the logistics of this means that the whole band has to be unamplified and if this were to be ongoing it’d have to be at a similar venue with limited seating.  I’ve been thinking of recording this, and trying to create the spatial sensation — probably best heard through headphones or speakers accommodating for 5.1.

I have a lot of quintet tunes and large ensemble tunes and I’m also working on my electric bass playing, so we’ll see.  Whatever I do next though, I’m hesitant to do without a direct concept; I don’t want to do something just for the sake of recording a bunch of tunes.

Stay in touch with the adventures of Linda Oh at www.lindaohmusic.com and on her MySpace page.

Pianist James Weidman is a thoughtful, exceedingly pleasant man who is an understated personality but as versatile a pianist as you will find.  

Weidman’s discography as a leader is relatively short but potent.  His current release is Three Worlds, on the Inner Circle Music label.  On the heels of that release it was about time for some questions for Mr. Weidman.

According to some folks, public perception has put you in a kind of box.  I suppose some of that perception, at least in part stems from the fact that you’ve been pretty flexible in your affiliations.  I first met you back in the early 90s when you were part of an MBase crew that was in residence at the Umbria Jazz Festival — with folks like Steve Coleman, Greg Osby, the late Mark Ledford, Marvin "Smitty" Smith, and Cassandra Wilson.  You played and educated at Tri-C JazzFest a couple of years ago as a member of Marty  Ehrlich’s band; both those affiliations placed you in somewhat edgier climates.  On the other hand you’ve accompanied several singers, including Kevin Mahogany, Abbey Lincoln, and Cassandra.  You’ve hit frequently with TK Blue and his Afro-Caribbean approach, and played spirituals with Jay Hoggard.  More recently you’ve played with Joe Lovano’s Us Five, which strikes me as having a kind of inside/out approach.  How do you balance such varied situations and affiliations?  And do you feel as though you’ve been put in a kind of perpetual sideman box in terms of public perception? 

Yes, I’m probably part of that group of musicians that moves around various settings and genres under the umbrella of which is called jazz.  A lot of players and listeners alike tend to stay within a certain zone.  That’s not a bad thing.  One can certainly decide to polish only a little corner and still become a brilliant musician at the same time.  There are many examples of that.  Whole careers may center either on vocalists, more straight-ahead players, or free boppers.  For musicians and audiences, what you see is what you get.

In my case, there are some people that know of my nine-year association with Abbey Lincoln and know nothing of my five year association with Steve Coleman and Five Elements (’87-’92).  And there is this thing of being a perennial sideman versus a leader.  I didn’t just begin to record and perform as a leader only yesterday.  TK and I co-led a band named TaJa from ’91-’97, playing the New York area in venues like Birdland, the Iridium, and the Zinc Bar.  In 1993, we recorded a self-produced album, "A Night at Birdland."  In 1995 I recorded a trio album, "People Music" with Belden Bullock on bass and "Smittty" Smith on drums. 

Perhaps because of the "Young Lions" movement of that period, that body of work got overlooked by the press.  However, I tried not to concern myself with all of that too much.  Music is such a positive force in itself.  I was just trying to work on my playing and my writing and grow within the art form.  Important to me also is a good dose of curiosity about the different sounds and textures and their possibilities.  That has certainly influenced the mapping of my musical journey.

As for playing in a variety of situations, I guess I must be hardwired or conditioned in wanting to experience variety.  I remember my first job ever was as a church pianist at 12 years old.  My dad brokered it for me but warned that I only read music.  I did in fact have a little bit of an ear, which in the end was a good thing because in this particular church there actually was very little reading involved.  I only had to work on developing a good gospel style which eventually I did by listening to the different styles of other pianists in the area, and the recordings of gospel artists like James Cleveland.  He had some of the killingest musicians and his music was big then.  At age 14, I began to play clubs and dance halls with my dad, James Sr.’s, group — the Jimmy James Organ Combo; I played a C3 Hammond. 

My first improvisational forays were coming out of the organ vocabulary of all the diverse players that I heard.  I gravitated toward the funkier soulful players.  I tried to emulate everyone from Dr. Lonnie Smith to Booker T. [Jones].  Actually it was a combination of emulation and trying to put my own take on it, even at that precocious, tender age.  At the same time, I was discovering the recorded sounds of various jazz artists, like Charlie Parker, Art Blakey, and Miles Davis, I was taking European classical piano lessons and music theory.  So right at the beginning, the stage was set for an eclectic musical life, I suppose. 

Being versatile is nice, but to effectively execute versatility demands time, patience, and a good grasp of the materials to be worked with.  In the end, I aspire to sound authentically myself and true to the setting that I’m in.  To get into the musical spirit and culture of a genre is to first be open to the possibility of musical sound and then to make the music mean something.  If you are playing Kansas City blues with Kevin Mahogany, you need to know something beyond the blues scale, for instance.  In music, there are those things not found in a textbook.  By the time I began to play with Kevin, I had hung around the right circles to acquire how to play various styles of blues.

I was fortunate to come to New York at the time I did.  It was in the last days of the loft scene.  You could interact with, or see the great musicians who were considered free players or all the great straight-ahead musicians.  And the number of pianists on the scene at that time was humbling.  Eubie Blake was still alive; Albert Dailey, Walter Bishop, Walter Davis, Sadik Hakim, Al Haig, Earl Hines are among the pianists who I had a chance to hear and who have been gone for a long time.  There are many pianists, and for that matter let’s include all the many jazz artists who were once on the scene that are not spoken about much any more.  All of them have left their personal legacies.

Talk about your spirituals project with vocalist Dean Bowman and saxophonist John Ellis.

Doing a spiritual project with Dean is a natural out-growth of what went on before.  It involves my personal take on integrating the sacred roots of the music into a modern improvisational environment.  I’ve already touched on some of my earliest experiences in black sacred music.  Even before Dean, I had collaborated with vibraphonist Jay Hoggard on sacred music projects.  I was also vocalist Ruth Naomi Floyd’s musical director, arranger, and producer for three [jazz/spirituals] albums on Contour Records.

I was first familiar with the Negro spirituals through the church I was brought up in Youngstown, Ohio.  While that church was a little weak on the modern gospel side, there was a nice mix of early gospel hymns, spirituals, and line singing, along wtih hymns and anthems.  To make a distinction, true spirituals are the collection of slave songs from the 19th century, predating the gospel hymns and songs of the 20th century. 

Dean, John and I toured Europe last December as the "Gospel Trilogy."  Our presentation included African-American sacred music from the 19th to the early 20th century.  I played piano and organ.  It was a beautiful experience and a great opportunity to present our interepretation of that music to fresh audiences.  

I made seven big band arrangements of spirituals for Dean in 2008.  It was performed by the Helsinki UMO Jazz Orchestra, for which I was the guest conductor.  The UMO orchestra has versatile players and that was another beautiful happening.  That was my first foray into orchestrating on that level.  Fortunately that year I wasn’t on the road too frequently, I had both the time and the resources to bone up and get the music together in a presentable form.  That year I was also preparing for my Three Worlds project.  I recorded it last January. It made me reflect on how important, and what a luxury it is to have space for creativity to flow.

James Weidman’s Three Worlds, with Ray Anderson (trombone), Marty Ehrlich (reeds), Jay Hoggard (vibes), Brad Jones (bass), and Francisco Mela (drums).

What projects and situations do you have on the burner? 

I’m looking forward to performing more with my Three Worlds group.  I’m beginning to think about my next recording.  It would be good to do a live recording this time around.  Besides my ongoing collaboration with Dean, bassist Harvie S and I have been performing together for the past couple of years in the NYC area.

This month [March] I started off with a couple of gigs with Matt Wilson’s Arts and Crafts, on piano and organ.  I went to Russia as guest artist with the Oleg Kirevev group, then I traveled to the west coast with Joe Lovano’s Us Five for a bunch of gigs.

Catch up to James Weidman on Jazzcorner at www.jamesweidman.com.  

The inimitable Jackie McLean

Shortly after posting the original Thinkin’ About Jackie (McLean) (please scroll down) remembrance from drummer Carl Allen, the National Jazz Museum in Harlem presented another of its ongoing Jazz for Curious Listeners programs at its Harlem Visitor’s Center, with a remembrance of the rich legacy of the great NEA Jazz Master Art Blakey.  The conversation was moderated by bassist, and museum co-director Christian McBride and featured two late-period Jazz Messengers, saxophonist Javon Jackson and trumpeter Brian Lynch.  During their lively exchange Jackson waxed rhapsodic about how he was mentored by Messengers’ alum Jackie Mac, which prompted another remembrance of Dr. Jackal; that was followed soon after by DC-based saxophonist Fred Foss’ recalling the influence of McLean on his playing and his career in music.      

How did Jackie McLean become a mentor to you as a young musician?

Javon Jackson: Meeting Jackie during my time with Art Blakey.  Jackie was always encouraging and supportive of young musicians.  He helped me with advice and was always available by phone for answers to questions I had regarding the business of music.  For example, he would speak to me of the constant study necessary regarding the jazz greats that have come before us.

Tenor man Javon Jackson, Thinkin’ About Jackie

What was some of the lasting wisdom he laid on you?

He also spoke about the dedication to the music and always striving to become a better musician as well as having a band and playing original music.  Also, having the respect for the tradition of this rich American art form and for the artists that established it.

What would you say is the lasting legacy of Jackie McLean?

In part, Jackie’s legacy is all of the incredible recordings and performances he was a part of, and the Artists Collective in Hartford, CT that he and his wonderful wife Dolly established from the ground up through tireless fund-raising efforts.  Lastly, the jazz program at the Hartt School of Music he established in Hartford some 35 years ago.

Exterior view of the house that Jackie & Dolly McLean built: The Artists Collective in Hartford, CT

Interior view of The Artists Collective, Hartford’s cultural jewel

Fred Foss: J Mac was one of the most extraordinary people I have ever met.  He was extremely kind to me.  [Jackie & Dolly’s son] Rene [McLean] introduced me to him and he and Dolly took me in, and made me a part of their family.  He loved to laugh and he was a great storyteller.  My father and his stepfather were in the same class in the 20s in Harlem, so I always felt somehow that we were destined to meet.  J Mac loved to teach, and he was a natural teacher.  He never talked to me about the technicalities of playing the saxophone, just hanging with him was a lesson.  He loved to fish, and we went fishing in Martha’s Vinyard.  He loved to dress and we went window shopping in Nice.  But most of all he loved to play music.  I saw him play with [drummer] Michael Carvin at Town Hall once and it was so powerful I almost ran out of the hall.  The thing I most admired about him was his modesty.  Unlike so many others, hee never took credit for being friends with Bird.  He told me that Bird was a man when he was a boy.  I don’t think that he has gotten the recognition that he deserves [Amen to that!).  All the hip trumpet players came through him.  I think about Jackie McLean every day. 

Fred Foss Thinkin’ About Jackie McLean