© -Steven
Cerra , copyright protected; all rights reserved.
Stan Kenton’s music
always evoked strong reactions.
And, as you can
see from the following essay by the superb Jazz writer and critic, Whitney
Balliett, some of them were not always favorable.
For me the
pleasure of experiencing the sheer power of the band, especially in
performance, was enthralling; the epitome of excitement in Jazz.
One of my most
enjoyable memories is of a Spring break spent with friends on the Balboa
peninsula in southern California while the Kenton band was folding forth at the Rendezvous
Ballroom and literally walking into its cavernous spaces on a daily basis to
hear the orchestra rehearse.
I certainly can
relate to Gary Giddins’ description of one aspect of the Kenton aura when he
writes:
“Kenton had a
mystique, not to mention an audience that listened to little else. When he left
Capitol in 1968, he started the most successful musician-owned independent jazz
label ever, Creative World. A class operation in every respect, the company
believed in its product. Spurred by its professionalism, I tried to measure up,
poring over every new release, as well as reissues of albums leased from
Capitol, and catching Kenton whenever he appeared in town. To be sure, his
catalogue included many enduring performances, ingenious arrangements by Bill
Holman, Gerry Mulligan, Pete Rugolo, Johnny Richards, and others, with solos by
saxophonists Lee Konitz, Art Pepper, Zoot Sims, Bill Perkins (whose tenor solo
on Johnny Richards's arrangement of "Out of This World” is worth
discovering), and Lennie Niehaus (for all the heavy-handed brasses, the reeds
had the best soloists), and brassmen Carl Fontana, Frank Rosolino, and the
Candoli brothers. For a while, drummer Mel Lewis, who gave the band much of its
heart, and bassist Max Bennett made a vital rhythm team.” [Visions of Jazz, pp.328-329]
Whitney, on the
other hand, seems less-than-captivated by the Kenton sensation in the following
essay entitled Artistry in Limbo from his wonderful book: The Sound of Surprise: 46 Pieces
on Jazz by The New Yorker Critic, 1959].
© -Whitney Balliett, copyright protected;
all rights reserved.
Stan Kenton got
started officially as a band leader on Memorial Day, 1940, when he opened with
a thirteen-piece group at the Rendezvous Ballroom in Balboa, California. The
music, already indicative of things to come, was relentless and heavy-booted,
with a staccato two-beat attack that resembled in intent, if not execution, the
style of the Lunceford band of the time. Perhaps it was persuasive because it
was rhythmically overpowering, for by the summer's end, Kenton had built a
staunch following on the West Coast and considerable speculation about his
"new music" in the East. Kenton's second period began in 1944 after
he had been East, and, although the band was defter and less aggressive, it was
not much different. The third era, 1945-46, illustrated what is now known as
the band's principal style — a big reed section securely rooted with a baritone
saxophone, an inflexible, metallic-sounding rhythm section, and ear-bursting
brass teams.
The next two
periods extended from 1947 to 1951, years in which Kenton turned restlessly to
his "progressive jazz" and "innovations in modern music,"
using, in addition to his own works, the compositions and arrangements of Bob
Graettinger, Pete Rugolo, Ken Hanna, Neil Hefti, and Shorty Roger s. Here the music moved ceaselessly and
cumbersomely between the funereal orchestrations of Graettinger, mood music
performed by a forty-piece band with strings that was perilously close to movie
music, and immense jazzlike frameworks constructed about scintillating section
work and occasional soloists. The last era, which brings the band up through
1953, was more or less of a deflation to the mid-forties period, and reveals a
clearer jazz feeling than the band had ever before had.
It is impossible
not to be impressed by Kenton's aural bulk, by the sheer sinew and muscle that
have gone into his music. It is not impossible, however, to remain almost
completely unmoved. Kenton's bands, in spite of all the complacent, organ like
talk that has surrounded their "progressivism" in the past ten years,
fit roughly into the tradition of the silvery semi-jazz groups of Larry
Clinton, Glen Gray, Glenn Miller, the Dorseys, and Ray Anthony. This tradition,
although aeriated from time to time by Bunny Berigans and Bobby Hacketts, is
quite different from the genuine big jazz bands cradled by Fletcher Henderson
and Duke Ellington, and maintained since by Goodman, Lunceford, Galloway,
Basie, and Woody Herman.
Kenton does not
fit easily into the white-collar music of the former tradition, however, for he
tried to combine the two movements, with the help of extracurricular seasonings,
into something new. This he did, in part, by allowing ample solo space within
glistening limousines of sound that, in the end, tended only to stifle whatever
potentialities for jazz there were on hand. He also created, as a result of
purposely and confusedly trying to be a musical refractor of his times, a
self-conscious music that was caught — strident and humorless — somewhere
between the pseudo-classical, jazz, and popular music.
Nevertheless,
Kenton's sounds and furies have, partly through accident, had certain positive
effects within jazz. His various bands have been rigorous training grounds for
many younger musicians, particularly those who have gone on to fashion in the
past few years, in probable revolt, the small-band parlor jazz of the West
Coast. His pelting about of words like "progressive" and "innovation,"
together with the uncompromisingly modernistic tenor of his music, has helped
prepare the public for true futurists like Gillespie, Parker, Monk, Powell,
and John Lewis. And, finally, he has inadvertently defined, like a Thomas
Wolfe, the possible wastelands of his own medium, thus performing the negative
service of showing many jazzmen where not to tread.
Kenton says in the
epilogue to a recent album called "The Kenton Era" that "It is
too early yet to attempt to ascertain whether our efforts over the years have
contributed to the development of the world's music." It isn't, of
course, for — as is apparent in this album — his music has come just about full
circle. Indeed, it deserves a prominent place in that fascinating museum where
the curiosities of music are stored.”
Steve Cerra: great blogspot...enjoy being here and reading and listening...keep on keepin' on...
ReplyDeleteTony Agostinelli
As a life long Kenton fan, I really enjoyed the music for the umpteen time and I never paid attention to his critics...really enjoy your blog spot
ReplyDeleteTerry in Oakland, CA