December 2, 2013. Posted by Becca Pulliam.
We said goodbye July 18th to the incomparable bassist and activist Carline Ray. I was fortunate to be among those who gathered at St. Peter's Lutheran Church in New York on November 13 to celebrate her life in music.
John O'Connor, the Recording Vice-President of the New York City musicians' union, AFM Local 802, was also there, and he read from a wonderful essay on Carline by Mikael Elsila. In it, Ray tells the story of her life as a working musician and describes encounters with artists such as Art Tatum and Miles Davis along the way. This story, which first appeared in 1998, is reprinted here with permission from Allegro, the magazine of the New York City musicians' union (AFM Local 802). For more background, see www.Local802afm.org.
‘Be Your Own Self’ by Mikael Elsila
The life of Carline Ray (1925-2013), the champion of bass, was as rich and deep as her luxuriant contralto voice. A professional singer and electric bass specialist for 54 years, Ray was an activist as well as a premier musician. She was a member of Local 802 since 1945, served on the union’s trial board for six years, and was an active member of the Jazz Advisory Committee. But she also stood up for fellow musicians even when there was no union agreement.
For instance, there was the time Ray and her lifelong friend and musical collaborator, Edna Smith, got a job playing in a ten-cents-a-dance hall. Ray (on piano) and Smith (on bass) were the only women in the band. “The band had to play continuously,” Ray remembers, so she figured out a way to get them some breaks. “The boss liked ‘Stardust,’ so I told him I would sing it for him if he would let everybody off for five minutes. I would do this just about every night. He just loved ‘Stardust’!”
Born and raised in Harlem, Carline Ray grew up surrounded by music. Her father, Elisha Manasseh Ray, was a member of Local 802 and a graduate of Juilliard, who played the bass, tuba and euphonium. He taught Ray piano and rudimentary theory when she was young, and she always knew that she wanted to be a musician. In junior high she discovered her voice and started singing in glee clubs and choruses.
Ray entered Juilliard as a piano major, studying with Harold Lewis and Gordon Stanley, and later studied composition. She graduated with a composition degree in 1946, and 10 years later earned a master’s in voice from the Manhattan School of Music.
While still at Juilliard, she began exploring jazz after school hours. She and Edna Smith, a bass major, started playing in clubs and spending time on 52nd Street, where Ray heard musicians like Sarah Vaughan, Billie Holiday and Art Tatum. In those days she was doing more listening than playing, but she would often go up to a jam session in Harlem at a place called The Hollywood. There she met Billy Taylor, and heard Willie “The Lion” Smith, and other stride pianists. Tatum always played last. “Nobody followed Art Tatum; he was the king.”
Ray already had a reputation as a singer, and at The Hollywood one night she was asked to sing. Tatum offered to accompany her. “I was speechless, of course. So I sang a Gershwin tune. When I got through Art asked, ‘Well, Carline, did I play all right for you?’ “
It was around this time that she and Edna got a job playing weekends at Pete and Dom’s Restaurant in Staten Island, and Ray joined Local 802. “In those days you had to audition to get into the local. They asked for a little Bach, a little Beethoven, a little boogie-woogie, and I accommodated.” Also around this time, she began teaching herself guitar, and soon was playing on gigs.
In 1956, while she was playing in a band fronted by her late husband, the pianist-composer Luis Russell, Ray decided to give the bass a try. “I took to it like a fish to water.”
Ray started subbing for Smith on her gigs and became the regular bass player for her husband’s group, at a time when few musicians were playing the instrument. “A lot of people have accused me of causing them to play electric bass,” says Ray. “I may have inspired some people to think they could sound like me, but you have to know ahead of time what kind of sound you want. I was trying to emulate the sound of an upright bass; I always wanted that big sound.” One musician who influenced her strongly was Ray Brown. “He had this big, fat, round sound with ringing notes. It really moved me, and I said to myself that if I was ever going to be a bass player, that’s the way I’d want to sound. Ray Brown is my mentor, but he doesn’t know it. That sound continues to be my motivation.”
Her first big band experience came in 1946, when she and Edna Smith met Maurice King, the musical director for the all-female Sweethearts of Rhythm, and soon joined the group. Ray was the rhythm guitarist and special production vocalist, and when she sang “Temptation” at the Million Dollar Theater in Los Angeles, she brought down the house. “I was overwhelmed,” she said.
Ray had never been west of New Jersey before, but she happily traveled around the country in a bus fitted out with sleeper berths that was home to the 16 women in the Sweethearts of Rhythm. In those days, she recalls, “Jim Crow was alive and kicking and flying around and carrying on – so there was always the specter of that hanging over us, whenever we went down South.” Ray and the Sweethearts did a “Black Circuit,” covering the Apollo in New York and the Howard in Washington, D.C., among other venues.
Next, Ray was invited to sing with a band led by trumpeter Erskine Hawkins, based at the Savoy Ballroom. She was the only woman in the band but she felt respected. “A few guys tried to hit on me, but I had a couple of ‘big brothers’ who would look out for me,” she said. “I was never intimidated by my male counterparts.”
Ray didn’t see herself as a pioneer among female musicians because, she said, so many women came before her. But she pointed out that “it’s only now that women musicians are starting to be taken seriously.” When she was starting out, she said, agents “didn’t care about your talent. They always approached a woman based on the way she looked. But I view myself and any other woman musician as a musician first, who just happens to be female.”
She recalled that it was a long time before she saw any woman musicians in the New York Philharmonic. Ray believed that women in music now have more respect and acceptance, but she noted that this has happened “very slowly and grudgingly, as far as classical orchestras are concerned” – and that some female musicians “still seem to be intimidated.”
She also recalled problems with sexism in the union. “I received a lot of mail over the years addressed to ‘Dear Brother.’ Even the union hasn’t always recognized women.”
The union has not always supported jazz artists as strongly as Ray would have liked, but she was optimistic about Local 802’s Justice for Jazz Artists campaign and became deeply involved with the Jazz Advisory Committee. “I was very impressed with the composition of the committee – the fact that people like Jamil Nasser and Benny Powell were involved – and I could see that Local 802 was serious about this.”
Ray did it all. She taught at Medgar Evers College. She met Miles Davis on the A train, where they chatted about Sarah Vaughan. She played with numerous top musicians, including Mary Lou Williams, Mercer Ellington and Skitch Henderson. She received an NEA grant to study acoustic bass with Major Holley. She helped form Jazzberry Jam, made up of herself, Bertha Hope on piano, Paula Hampton on drums and the late Gwen Cleveland on vocals. And she raised a daughter, Catherine Russell, the well-known and highly respected vocalist.
What advice would she give musicians?
“As a jazz musician, you have to decide where in this wide spectrum of music you want to be represented. You have to aspire to be as individual as you can be; it has to be you injected into this music. You just can’t be a copycat, playing something just because someone else is playing it. Every one of us has individual aspects of our performance – something that is special about them. Be your own self.”
- Mikael Elsila is the editor of Allegro.
October 31, 2013. Posted by Tim Wilkins.
WBGO says goodbye to our friend, flute and saxophone master Frank Wess, who died yesterday from kidney failure at age 91. We were fortunate to enjoy many moments with Frank over the years, and would like to share some of these with you now.
Frank was "Magic" to his friends and fellow musicians, and rightly so. His devotion to, and mastery of, music were second to none.
In this interview with Michael Bourne from 2008, he explains how after honing his craft in Count Basie's Orchestra, he became one of New York's busiest and most successful studio musicians, and co-led bands large and small with his Basie sax section partner Frank Foster, who we said goodbye to in 2011.
A striver who believed in progress through music, Wess could in be found in recent years playing - in top form - in New York clubs such as Dizzy's at Lincoln Center, Small's and Smoke, where he unstintingly shared his wisdom and experience with younger players.
We last presented him in concert in April, at 54 Below in Manhattan, as part of the nightclub's WBGO jazz series with guitarist Peter Bernstein.
WBGO's Rhonda Hamilton celebrated with Frank in January of 2007, when he was named a NEA Jazz Master, the nation's highest honor for a jazz musician:
Frank sat down with Rhonda once again in October of 2010 for another hourlong conversation, when he was the guest of honor at the annual All-Night Soul concert at St. Peter's Church in Manhattan:
Rest easy Frank, and thank you from all of us at WBGO!
© 2013 WBGO
October 16, 2013. Posted by Tim Wilkins.
WBGO says goodbye to singer Gloria Lynne, who passed away in Newark Oct. 15 at age 81. Best known for her 1964 hit "I Wish You Love," Gloria won first prize in the "Amateur Night" at Harlem's Apollo Theater at age fifteen. She also wrote lyrics to Herbie Hancock's "Watermelon Man" and performed with, among others, Ray Charles, Harry Belafonte Billy Eckstine, Quincy Jones and Ella Fitzgerald. Among her many honors, she received an International Women in Jazz Award and a Pioneer Award from the Rhythm and Blues Foundation. In 1995, New York City proclaimed July 25 "Gloria Lynne Day."
A memorial service for Gloria will be held at the Abyssinian Baptist Church, 132 Odell Clark Place (138th Street) in Harlem, on Monday, October 28th at 1pm.
Last month, Lynne sat down with with WBGO's Michael Bourne to talk about about her career and performances at 54 Below in New York on August 27 as part of the nightclub's WBGO Jazz Series. We would like to share this interview with you again now. Farewell, Gloria, we will miss you!
© 2013 WBGO
September 22, 2013. Posted by Michael Bourne.
WBGO says farewell to our dear friend Margarett Cooper, who passed away Friday at age 99. Margarett was a true member of the WBGO family, and lived so many things the rest of us can only read about. As we remember her, we'd like to share audio from the unforgettable hour she spent with us on the air in 2010. Farewell Margarett, we will miss you!
Margarett Cooper hosted an hour with me in the spring of 2010, a gift from WBGO supporter Gordon Davis. 96, she was, at the time. Everyone kept mentioning her age, but her spirit belied her age.
I especially enjoyed hearing stories about her hearing performances of Art Tatum and the other jazz greats she wanted to play as a guest DJ. She said she was nervous, but her hour was sweet and swinging -- like Margarett Cooper herself.
She was planning her next host-an-hour when she passed away. one month shy of her hundredth birthday. For us, she is ageless.
- Michael Bourne
© 2013 WBGO
August 22, 2013. Posted by Michael Bourne.
WBGO's celebration of Marian McPartland continues with these memories shared by host Michael Bourne:
Marian McPartland ought to have been honored as Dame Marian by the Queen. She was instead in 2010 appointed an Officer of the Order of the British Empire. O.B.E. -- one step above Ringo.
She was certainly a great player, a great broadcaster, a great lady, and a great Dame to all of us in the jazz world. Smart, sweet, witty, with two of the most open ears in the jazz world, always curious, always swinging, never suffered fools, said what she meant, always with that enchanting voice and accent, and always with a twinkle -- no, a sparkle -- no, a bright star of light flashing in her eyes.
I knew Marian ever since she called me decades ago. 3:30AM, it was. "Hi," she said. "This is Marian McPartland," she said -- which I already knew immediately when she said hello. "I met a friend of yours," she said with that voice, that accent. "He said you play my records. He said you were up all night and I should call you."
I remembered that call every time Marian called me when I was jocking on WBGO. She was always listening. "Who is that?" she'd ask, and she'd tell me what was remarkable about the musician. "I should have (whoever-it-was) on the show."
One talk with Marian I'll never forget ...
I was working on a feature for DownBeat when Marian was being honored for all her extraordinary work in jazz education. I'd included her birth date, but Marian didn't want the date included. She didn't want anyone to know how old she was -- turning 70 around then. When she celebrated her 75th birthday with a concert at Town Hall, I remembered when she didn't want anyone to know her age. "I didn't," she said, "but now that I'm 75, the hell with it."
When we were talking for the DownBeat story, from something she said I realized that, after living so many decades in America, Marian was nonetheless a citizen of Great Britain. She'd met and married cornetist Jimmy McPartland when they were playing for soldiers around Europe at the end of WWII. Together, they settled first in Chicago, then in New York.
"You didn't become an American when you married Jimmy?" I asked.
And she said the most wonderful thing I've ever heard anyone say about a loved one.
"I didn't marry Jimmy to become an American," she said. "I married Jimmy for love."
I was dumbstruck by the passion in her voice. I could only think to ask about children.
"No," she said. "We didn't have children."
"No," said Marian. "We only had bass players and drummers."
© 2013 WBGO