The Complete Capitol Studio Recordings of Stan Kenton 1943-47

STAN KENTON - THE BEGINNING DAYS

Stan Kenton always referred to the years when his band was young, the style had not yet been finalized, and its very existence was in jeopardy, as the beginning days. And at the beginning Stan, one of the most successful band leaders of all time, was quite convinced the job was not for him. He wanted a band very much, if only to hear played the library of scores he had written which he felt were new and different and adventurous; but he personally was too tall, too awkward, too tongue-tied to be a leader. His idea was he should play piano and write the music, but someone more capable should front the band for him.

In fact, when Stan conducted, he soon found his infectious enthusiasm, his magnetic personality and sheer physical presence were vital selling points; the Kenton charisma mesmerized his audience, and held them as spellbound as the unorthodox music the band was playing. There had been over a year of workshop rehearsals, test recordings, and more latterly the odd one night stand, before the Kenton orchestra opened its first proper engagement for the summer at the Rendezvous Ballroom in Balboa on June 6, 1941.

It was there that the teenagers of southern California discovered Stan Kenton, and gave him his first taste of success. They identified with his music, and their enthusiasm was reflected in the band’s spirit and urged the musicians to greater heights. Stanley gave his all, and demanded as much from every member of the band, who responded with the zeal of men working for a cause, rather than a pay-packet. The sincerity was evident and contagious. As Audree (Coke) Kenton told me, “The Kenton band was so entirely different from anything the kids were used to. It was a totally different sound, and very exciting. Stanley was a dynamic, dramatic conductor. When Stanley got up there, he waved his arms and all but fell off the stage, twice a night. The youngsters responded to this, and what he was giving them was not what they were used to. It was not swing, in the way that Goodman and Shaw were swing; it was something new, and there was a tremendous excitement generated. Part of it was Stanley himself, a lot of it was the music, much of which he had written, and it just knocked the kids out. They had come to dance, but they would end up standing in front of the bandstand, hour after hour.”

Many of the guys in the band were musicians Stan had enjoyed working with as sidemen in other orchestras (Everett Hoagland, Gus Arnheim, Vido Musso), and whom he knew had similar musical ideals to his own. Key men included Canadian-born trumpet soloist Chico Alvarez, destined to remain a Kenton stalwart for many years; first alto player Jack Ordean, who attracted much favorable attention for his Hodges-inspired saxophone improvisations; tenor saxophone soloist and singer Red Dorris, formerly with Ben Pollack; band manager Bob Gioga, whose baritone anchored the saxophone section until 1953; and bassist Howard Rumsey, who would later lead Lighthouse AllStars.

Every night’s performance at the Rendezvous was expertly programmed as Stan explained in a magazine called Band Leaders. “The band was originally designed, through both orchestration and presentation, to thrill as much as possible. I strove for flash and wanted every arrangement, whether slow or fast tempo, to be a production in itself. Everything was written to swing to a driving beat. Spirit and enthusiasm had to predominate at all times. I wanted to play the strongest swing possible and yet to present swing in as elevated a manner as I could. I figured that 11:30 to midnight gave us our high period. Our climax was so complete at that time of night, that had you touched any kid in the audience, I think he would have thrown off sparks!”

The band’s style was achieved through the writing of Kenton himself. But as early as 1940 Stan brought in musician-friend Ralph Yaw (who had also arranged for Chick Webb and Cab Calloway) to help ease the burden. Yaw copied the Kenton staccato-style beat and saxophone voicings, commenting, “To my mind, the saxes are treated in the right way for the first time. It really scares me!” Yaw contributed his scores for free because he knew money was tight, and he was happy to write for a band with which he felt so much empathy. During 1941, a young writer named Joe Rizzo also added numerous charts in the Kenton style. “Joe was a young Californian who felt the same way musically as I did,” Stan, explained. Even after he was drafted into the army, Rizzo continued to contribute the odd score (I’M GOING MAD FOR A PAD is Joe’s), and in later years he became a permanent arranger for the Lawrence Welk TV show.

Despite all the success stories, by no means every night at the Rendezvous was a rave-up. Charles Emge wrote in Down Beat, “It would be an exaggeration to say the band has been a ‘sensation.’ It’s too good to crash through in that manner.” And many years later Stan reminisced on CBC radio, “Today we talk about the large crowds that came to Balboa and all the excitement that was created, and honestly, I don’t think business was very good that summer. In fact, I remember times when we played that I actually worried about whether the owner of the ballroom was going to come out financially or not.”

Nevertheless, the publicity roused led directly to a Decca recording contract. But the first session was a dismal failure, the producer insisting on a toned-down TABOO, and three other titles that were cover versions of existing hits, rather than the jazz scores the band was familiar with. Much better were the dozens of sides recorded for radio play by CP MacGregor Transcriptions. And on November 25, 1941, Kenton opened to excellent business at the most famed west coast ballroom of them all, the Hollywood Palladium. Count Basie told the story of how one night he invited his musicians traveling to their next job by bus, to listen to a Kenton broadcast from the Palladium. “That,” Basie told his bandsmen, “will be the next king!”

Basie was right, but the crown was still several years away. On their first visit to New York in early 1942, Stan’s music certainly did not thrill patrons of the Roseland Ballroom, where the band (in the vernacular) “fried an omelette.” Everyone knew that Roseland, home of hostesses and strict-tempo dancing, was the wrong spot for the jazz happy Kenton crew, but it was still a major setback when the band was pulled out after only three weeks of an eight-week engagement. Word of the Roseland debacle spread quickly, and when a band hit that sort of trouble it was common practice for other leaders to swoop and pick up sidemen for their own orchestras. Kenton said it was Jimmy Dorsey who personally helped him in New York to keep his outfit together and protected him from being raided for musicians by other bands.

The guys hung in there with Stan until the draft started to hurt, but throughout 1942 the band faced an uncertain future and a daily struggle for survival. It was only Kenton’s tenacity and belief in his music that enabled him to carry on in the face of public apathy and war-time adversities. Even the critics were beginning their war of attrition, complaining in particular that the music was too loud and pretentious. (It wasn’t until the 1970s that Stan’s music in general began to be recognized for its worth by the critical fraternity, something the fans had known all along.)

Stan was forced to make concessions to the song pluggers, and play many of the pop hits of the day, usually sung by Red Dorris or Dolly Mitchell (who replaced Eve Knight in September 1942). But Kenton was determined that even pop tunes were going to be played in a musical way, and brought in a young writer named Charlie Shirley to help him with the arranging chores. Shirley told Pete Venudor, “I was hired by Stan because he was impressed with my work for the Sam Donahue band. Kenton was headed for a lot of radio air time and needed a full complement of cur rent pop arrangements. So I was hired to help ease the pressure on Stan and try to develop a pop style for the band. Stan assured me he’d use anything I came up with in the way of experimental stuff, either pop or jazz. We experimented on the ballads with woodwinds and classic voicings, and I feel I had some influence on the direction Stan swung into after the war. Kenton himself was one of the straightest men I’ve ever met, a valued friend and a fine leader.”

In the summer of 1943, comedian Bob Hope was looking for a new band to replace army-bound Skinnay Ennis, and liked what he heard in the Kenton outfit. Stan for his part was desperately trying to balance the books and knew the security of a year’s work with the Hope entourage would ease his financial worries. Nevertheless, if ever there was a musical mismatch, the Kenton/Hope collaboration was it. Even as he was preparing to indulge in the onezy-twozy brand of corn demanded by Frances Langford, Jerry Colonna and Hope himself, Kenton was making statements like, “Out of the swing music of today will evolve an original, modem concert music distinctly American in character.” Not on the Bob Hope Show it wasn’t! Bob’s weekly broadcast was probably the most popular on the air, but the house band received limited exposure, and within weeks Kenton was regretting his acceptance of Hope’s con tract, even though the alternative might have been no band at all.

Commercially a triumph, musically the Hope association was the nadir of Stan’s entire career. But Kenton made clear his beliefs had not changed when he told Down Beat in July 1943, “Sure, I’ve made concessions that I never thought I’d have to make. It was either that or completely giving up a musical idea that I still think is right. But don’t think I’ve said so long to my so-called idealism — I still think the kind of music we used to play exclusively is the best.” And things really started to look up for Stan in the fall, when some record labels made overtures to the Musicians’ Union to end the first recording ban, then in progress. As a result, Kenton was approached by Capitol Records, a young Hollywood company whose executives expressed a keen interest in the band’s music and whose policy Stan felt to be more in keeping with his own brand of idealism than the more conservative Decca label.

Every Kenton devotee will have his own favorite period from the orchestra’s four decades of recorded music. For some it may be the mellophonioum “New Era,” for some the Holman/Russo “New Concepts,” for others the roaring bands of the 1970s. But for many, the definitive Stan Kenton, the music that above all other epitomizes the sounds that made Kenton distinctive and different, is that of the 1940s, when Stan’s reputation had still to be established, and his urge for creativity and experimentation was at its peak. Which is where our musical story in this album begins…



THE COMPLETE CAPITOL STUDIO RECORDINGS OF STAN KENTON 1943-47

A) NOVEMBER 19, 1943

Kenton signed to record for Capitol directly after the first recording ban was lifted in 1943, with the accurate prediction from president Glenn Wallichs that the young band and the fledgling record company would grow together. On this first Capitol date. Red Dorris (along with Harry Forbes and Bob Gioga) is one of only three founder-members remaining in the band — and he is soon to be inducted into the army. As the male singer and tenor saxophone soloist. Red was an important ingredient of the band’s early success, and Stan featured his vocals extensively; though one critic did unkindly comment in 1942 that Red “over-stresses diction and shining teeth rather than voice quality.” On this initial Capitol master, Dorris (who later married Kenton’s then current girl singer Dolly Mitchell) has the advantage of a good song, DO NOTHIN’ TILL YOU HEAR FROM ME being adapted by Duke Ellington from Cootie Williams’s CONCERTO FOR COOTIE, with lyrics by Bob Russell; Red’s popularity is indicated by the fact the title reached #10 on Billboard’s Top 20 listing — the only side from this initial session to gain a position on the chart.

The original 78 release (Capitol 145) used take four, which is easily identified by Dorris’s last vocal line on which he stretches out the word “and.” Either by accident or design, take three was used on the 78 reissue (Capitol 15197) and all subsequent issues. Strangely, -4 is inscribed in the wax of Cap. 15197.

Dave Dexter and Johnny Mercer produced this date, and two variations of EAGER BEAVER were recorded, one with Kenton playing the opening theme on piano, the other with Red Dorris substituted on tenor saxophone. After the session, Stan and the producers agreed the arrangement commencing with piano was best, but when Cap 159 was issued in June 1944 someone at Capitol had blundered, and the wrong take was on the record. It was immediately recalled, and re-pressed with the chosen version, but inevitably some copies of the original pressing escaped onto the market, and are now much-desired collectors’ items. Both versions are heard here, take three commencing with Red’s tenor being the rejected recording. It goes without saying that EAGER REAVER became one of the most played tunes in the Kenton repertoire, including what proved to be Stan’s last recording session of September 18, 1976.

Frank Comstock was not a regular member of the Kenton arranging team, so it is rather ironic that he’s featured twice on this date. Frank was introduced to Stan by manager Carlos Gastel, who was also manager of the Sonny Dunham band that Comstock had written for previously. Kenton had originally composed HARI.EM FOLK DANCE in 1941, and why he should now give this piece to Comstock to rearrange is not clear. However, Frank confirmed to me the arrangement was his by referring to personal notebooks from the period, though he also recalled that Stan made some changes to the chart on the recording date. It’s a hard-driving swinger employing the early staccato style that made the band famous, with four impressive solos. The difference between the two takes is most noticeable during Dorris’s tenor improvisations. Karl George who takes the open trumpet solos on both versions was black, which I mention only to nail the myth that Stan was color conscious. Here, take three was used on Capitol 145 with take four on all subsequent issues.

Stan had played his short composition called simply THEME as a signature tune since the band was first formed in 1940, but during 1943 he had developed the piece into a full-length orchestration. It was an ambitious chart, certainly far removed from anything the average dance (or even jazz) band might play. The melody bears resemblance to a theme from the ballet music DAPHNIS AND CHLOE (2nd Suite) by Maurice Ravel. Kenton’s chief copyist Clinton Roemer told me he mentioned the connection to Stan at Balboa in 1941, but Stan said that he had never heard the work. (Sigmund Romberg’s SOFTLY, AS IN A MORNING SUNRISE has a similar strain.) Whatever, Stan’s concert arrangement was certainly totally original in conception, and the big problem was what to call the recording. The label of the Capitol test pressing of Master 114 reads simply THEME, and the company decided to hold a contest to choose a title. The February 1944 Capitol News (the company’s publicity magazine) announced the winner as TOPAZ, but in fact Capitol’s executives decided that if the band’s slogan was to be ARTISTRY IN RHYTHM, that would be an excellent choice of title. Though the label of Cap 159 carries the sub-title PRODUCTION ON THEME as an alternative, the world knows it was ARTISTRY IN RHYTHM that stuck.

(B) MAY 20, 1944

The replacement for Red Dorris was Gene Howard, who had been singing with Teddy Powell’s band. Gene couldn’t play the saxophone, but he could (and often did) write his own arrangements, in a style so similar to Stan’s ballad writing it is impossible to tell them apart. Both arrangers relied heavily on clarinet backings, which Kenton later admitted had musically been a big mistake. But in 1944 Stan’s main aim was to make the orchestra solvent, to which end he had reluctantly become the house band on the Bob Hope radio show, and a hit record was his number one priority. Howard was a good dance-band singer, and Stan recorded him frequently; but somehow Gene failed to score on records, and Capitol declined to issue all the sides, so that several are seeing their first release in this Mosaic box. HOW MANY HEARTS HAVE YOU BROKEN actually reached #9 on the Billboard chart, but as Gene himself wryly admitted, the fact it was backed by AND HER TEARS FLOWED LIKE WINE had a lot to do with that, SHE’S FUNNY THAT WAY, previously unissued, is the better song, and Dave Matthews is responsible for the rhapsodic tenor saxophone solo.

Anita O’Day had left Gene Krupa’s band to try her luck as a single, but hadn’t quite been making it. So, knowing Kenton needed a new girl singer to replace Dolly Mitchell, Carlos Gastel shrewdly persuaded Anita that a year on Stan’s band would give her career the spur it needed. In 1944, O’Day would have been described as a “hip chick who liked to swing,” in every sense of the word, and Stan was the first to admit that swinging (a much-abused term with no precise definition) had never been his sole aim as a band leader. So there was some clash of personality, but O’Day was a big name in the dance-band world, and Stan felt he was lucky to have her on the payroll. According to Anita, it was she who persuaded Stan to bring in drummer Jesse Price to give the band more of a kick. (His stay was short-lived, and Price went on to play with Count Basie.)

In 1944, it was common knowledge in the business that Stan was looking for fresh material of a pop nature to record, and early in the year he was approached by a black songwriter named Joe Greene who had written the lyrics for two novelties with music by Charles Lawrence. It was the start of a long association between Kenton and Greene which saw 20 Greene songs recorded by Kenton on Capitol between 1944 and 1962 (seven are in this album.) AND HER TEARS FLOWED LIKE WINE gave Stan just what he had been looking for: a gold-plated, rock-solid, king-sized hit that placed a Kenton platter on every juke box in the land. It reached #4 on Billboard’s Top 20, and as arranger Buddy Baker told me, “That was probably Stan’s first big hit, so I remember it well. It was during the band’s year on the Hope show, where I was musical coordinator, and Stan had a rush date to record in a day or two, so he gave me TEARS FLOWED and did a couple of tunes himself for that date.”

Take one of AND HER TEARS FLOWED LIKE WINE with no piano accompaniment was the hit version released in 1944. When the title was put onto LP in 1952, Capitol switched to take two, the difference being clearly audible in Stan’s piano accompaniment, as well as some slight changes in the lyrics. To my ears, the version with Stan’s piano is the better, but either way it’s a hand-clappin,’ foot-tappin,’ joyous experience; though the song quickly became a pain in the butt for Anita, who had to sing it several times nightly to meet popular demand. With such a hit on their hands, one might have expected Capitol to rush out its stablemate, the up-tempo I’M GOING MAD FOR A PAD (a lament about the war-time housing shortage), especially as Stan featured it in the Universal Pictures musical short ARTISTRY IN RHYTHM later that year. But instead, MAD FOR A PAD remained on the shelf until THE KENTON ERA album in 1955, by which time it was much too late to make any special impact on the pop scene.

© SEPTEMBER 26, 1944

The band was in New York in September 1944 when Capitol decided they wanted a new Kenton record at a time when Stan was intent only creating a hit, rather than extending any jazz boundaries. For one side Stan chose a slushy, sentimental ballad SWEET DREAMS, SWEETHEART from the Warner Bros, movie musical HOLLYWOOD CANTEEN, and wrote the arrangement himself. The reverse was scored by Gene Roland, who had so impressed Stan when he sat in on trumpet during the summer of 1944 that he joined the band full-time in late July. Roland wrote himself a fifth trumpet part for the entire book, making the trumpets a

permanent five-man team, and was also appointed to arrange Anita O’Day’s jump tunes. Stan very much wanted a hit to rival TEARS FLOWED LIKE WINE, and selected Anita’s song for this session with particular care and regard for its commercial potential. Perhaps not Stan’s strong point, because when Leonard Feather brought in some brand-new tunes for Kenton to decide on, Stan rejected RUM AND COCA COLA (a big hit for the Andrews Sisters), and instead picked GOTTA BE GETTIN’, a song with little public appeal despite a reliable performance by Anita. The record died. As Stan observed some years later, “They were the worst dogs I ever made. In those days we were trying to put out some novelties that people would buy. We were trying to sell the public a herring, but the public smelled it and walked off.”

(D) DECEMBER 15,1944

Stan shows his faith in his boy singer with two more clarinet-backed ballads. On both SAY IT ISN’T SO (released here for the first time) and EV’RY TIME WE SAY GOODBYE, the jazz element is muted, but the arrangements are in good taste. The songs will become standards, and Gene’s voice falls smoothly on the ear. They are an essential ingredient of the Kenton heritage.

Played at a medium tempo, Roland’s bluesy arrangement of ARE YOU LIVIN’ OLD MAN is an excellent vehicle for Anita’s vocalizing, plus some tasty muted trumpet by John Carroll. If this strongly jazz-oriented performance was considered a ‘pop’ style in 1944, it just shows how much the music scene has deteriorated in the intervening years. BALBOA BASH is a hard-driving swinger that features Stan’s Earl Hines-like piano, and introduces Boots Mussulli’s alto to Capitol wax. The number was first composed and arranged by Ralph Yaw in 1941. This re-orchestration was claimed by Kenton, and is confirmed as Stan’s by the North Texas University files, where much of the Kenton library is housed. Clinton Roemer found the score as recorded by Capitol in Gene Roland’s handwriting, though this could simply mean it was copied by Roland. However, Roland told Pete Venudor that he had restored an arrangement from this period which Stan had “messed up.” Unfortunately, Roland could not remember the title, but in all the circumstances BALBOA BASH seems a likely candidate.

(E) JANUARY 16, 1945

OOH, WHAT I DREAMED ABOUT YOU (another Joe Greene entry) is a tuneful ballad, well-sung by the dependable Gene Howard, and featuring some delicate Kenton piano work. This is the song’s first release. It’s a beautiful take, but for some reason Stan had another go at recording this same title at the end of his next session four months later. That did not turn out so well, and is marked N.G. (no good) on Stan’s Recording Artist card.

I WANT A GROWN-UP MAN (with lyrics by Anita O’Day) is one of those war-time songs about the dearth of available males left behind on the home front, and was inexplicably unissued until EMI in England requested an album of unreleased vintage material in 1962. TRAVELIN’ MAN also received little coverage, being buried in a 78 rpm compilation album by various artists called COLLECTORS’ ITEMS. O’Day, in excellent voice, is the star of these rather pedestrian Roland arrangements, but nonetheless felt she was being short-changed, and quit soon after this session, her departure being described as “abrupt,” or as one writer put it, “Anita jumped the band in one of her outbursts.” She was later to deny this in her autobiography, so I asked Stan his version of events. According to Kenton: “We were in the middle of a job in Dayton, Ohio, and all of a sudden Anita comes up to me and says, ‘I’ve had it!’ And I said, ‘You’ve had what?’ She says, ‘I’m leaving!’ I said, ‘You’re leaving right now?’ and she says, ‘Right now!’ So I said, ‘So long,’ and she walked off the bandstand.” (As a matter of record, Anita still didn’t make it as a single at that time, and before the summer ended was back singing with the Gene Krupa Orchestra.)

AROUND THE TOWN is Stan’s updated orchestration of Ralph Yaw’s 1941 composition ONE TWENTY . (The original title will be used when the number is recorded for Capitol Transcriptions in December 1945.) This recording (previously unissued) is played at a slower tempo than the ET version, and it is interesting to be able to compare the two renditions. In retrospect it is clear Stan was right to up the tempo in favor of a more swinging performance, but this melodious version starts with some fine cymbal work by Jim Falzone, and there’s a choice solo by Boots Mussulli on alto saxophone, like Gene Howard a veteran of the Teddy Powell orchestra, and so nicknamed because his playing tended to be low-pitched.

(F) MAY 4, 1945

With Anita gone, the band needed a new “canary,” and fast. Several girls tried out and failed, but Shirley Luster auditioned and was accepted for a trial period on March 22, 1945. As she told me, “I can’t remember my own birthday, but I’ll never forget that date.” Stan recalled, “ I became interested in Shirley Luster and worked out some kind of a deal so she could join us — she was only 19 at the time and the big project was, how can we name her, because the name Shirley Luster sounded something like a hair shampoo, and I didn’t think it at all befitting. She agreed to change her name, and of course, at that time she became June Christy.”

Much has been made of the similarities between the voices of June and Anita O’Day, in my view to the point of overstatement. As Kenton put it, “Both sing jazz, but June brought something new to swing not just rhythm, but real character.” Some critics found her lacking in technique, but jazz has its own set of rules, or rather non-rules, in which self-expression and individuality are more important than perfect intonation or vibrato. In jazz, if it sounds right, it is right, and Christy sounded just right to the fans who recognized in the character of her voice an extra quality, defined by a husky timbre and a highly personal way of phrasing, which far transcended any technical deficiencies.

TAMPICO is a super-hip novelty in the same genre as AND HER TEARS FLOWED LIKE WINE, which it equaled in popularity. It stayed 13 weeks on the charts, and reached #4 in Billboard’s Top 20. June sings with an authority and enthusiasm amazing in one so young, and was firmly established as a ‘name’ vocalist on the strength of her first-ever waxing, which she later said restored her confidence at a time when she most needed such assurance. After TAMPICO, Christy was no longer the band’s “temporary” vocalist, though as she laughingly recalled some years later, Stan overlooked telling her so at the time!

By this date, the great Kenton band that rocked the jazz establishment is beginning to take shape, SOUTHERN SCANDAL was one of the big instrumental hits that laid the foundation of the band’s success, so titled (Stan said) because it was based on TARA’S THEME from the movie GONE WITH THE WIND, which was set in America’s deep south and depicted a scandalous love affair. Helped by Capitol’s sound engineers, who captured the big, bright sound of the orchestra with amazing accuracy for the period, the band plays with great decisiveness, and a persistent beat that is almost mesmerizing in its intensity. Everything is clean and precise, topped by a forceful, assertive Freddie Zito solo that set the Kenton solo trombone style for years to come. At that time, nothing quite like the Kenton sound had ever been heard before, and it took the jazz world by storm. This was modernity with a capital M, and it still has a fresh and powerful impact 50 years later.

In 1940, Kenton had composed four pieces for reeds and rhythm, loosely strung together as a SUITE FOR SAXOPHONES. Stan’s concept for this section was new and different, almost classical in design, and was perfected long before the definitive Kenton sound for the brass was realized.

OPUS IN PASTELS was the best of these compositions, and it remained in the band library until the end. Stan explained to me, “The unique sound of the sax section was achieved through the writing, and I’d have to say the conception in the beginning days was my own. At that time, none of the arrangers were taking all the advantages that were available in writing for the saxophones. With Benny Goodman or Artie Shaw, the saxes would play just a melodic line, with a few harmony parts trailing along in the same fashion as the melody was played. But with our saxophone section we started writing as though it was a complete unit by itself. We thought of the baritone as being the bottom of the section, and we widened and spread the voices so that the saxophone section would stand on its own, and wouldn’t be dependent upon the rest of the band for any of its character.” This first Capitol recording of OPUS IN PASTELS, previously unissued, is different from either the 1941 MacGregor Transcription or the familiar 1946 Capitol version, because Stan was experimenting by playing the piece at a slower tempo. The vibratoless, pure tone of the section has been brilliantly captured by the Chicago engineers, affording an excellent opportunity to follow Gioga’s bottom line, a full two octaves below Bob Lively’s lead alto riding over the top, in this classically-oriented departure from the norm.

(G) JULY 30, 1945

A much more relaxed outing for June’s second recording was Stan’s laid-back arrangement of IT’S BEEN A LONG, LONG TIME, which reached #6 on the Billboard chart. Smooth writing for trombones enhances the Gene Howard ballad DON’T LET M E DREAM, and present here for the first time is Eddie Safranski on bass, fresh out of Hal Mclntyre’s band. Stan and Eddie enjoyed an immediate rapport, as evidenced by their solo interplay on these titles, and on a great many recordings to come.

(H) OCTOBER 15, 1945

Capitol’s surviving paperwork does not name the studio used for this session, but the New York engineers were evidently not ready for the Kenton band. The balance is bad, and Wetzel’s muted trumpet all but lost. But June swings the Ellington standard JUST A-SITTIN’ AND A-ROCKIN’ so well, the side is enjoyable in spite of the indifferent recording quality. Despite nine complete takes, the engineers still couldn’t get it right on ARTISTRY JUMPS (originally titled STAN JUMPS). There is actual distortion on this prototype re-orchestration of the Kenton theme, which for this reason cannot be released, as noted by the symbols N.G. (no good) on Stan’s recording file card.

(I) OCTOBER 30, 1945

Gene Roland, given a good song and no commercial restrictions, manifests his mastery with the pen in this superbly recorded arrangement of JUST A-SITTIN’ AND A-ROCKIN’, and the band backs him all the way. Listen to the skillful fill-ins on bass by Eddie Safranski, who adds so much color to the overall performance, and demonstrates he is a great deal more than just a rhythm man. There is so much happening throughout this orchestration it becomes a kaleidoscope of sounds which all fit together with the perfect symmetry of a genuine work of art. Gene’s score is flawlessly constructed to enhance the Christy style, and June’s unique vocal projections establish conclusively that hers is the ideal Kenton voice as she swings this modem styled blues with superlative taste and skill.

Stan takes his now-famous THEME, retitles it ARTISTRY JUMPS, and orchestrates it in an up-tempo version that is geared for sheer musical excitement. The driving beat and blaring brass heard here will become the Kenton trademark. Notice how Ralph Collier’s drum break provides the perfect entrance for Vido Musso’s deep-toned tenor. Subtle and relaxed it isn’t, but the effect is electrifying, and it indicates how resolved Kenton is to enter the same arena as the other big bands — Herman, Gillespie, Raeburn — that are starting to revolutionize big-band jazz in a postwar world.

A simple riff takes on a new meaning because of Stan’s arranging skills; who else would think of opening PAINTED RHYTHM with a brief brass blast? Another of Musso’s surging tenor solos indicates he is destined to become a major voice in the Kenton success story, and Jimmy Simms shows he too can erupt on trombone. A previously unissued alternate take four was found in Capitol’s vaults and is heard here for the first time. Notable for a fine improvised solo by Musso, it offers a variant from the familiar version. PAINTED RHYTHM, SOUTHERN SCANDAL and EAGER BEAVER are the three up-tempo instrumentals which did the most at this time to establish the Kenton band as a modem, jumping outfit, and Stan himself as a composer of note.

(J) NOVEMBER 27, 1945

Many of the sides recorded by Capitol Transcriptions, on sessions completely separate from the phono dates, will be new to most listeners. A few were used by Capitol Records (most notably on THE KENTON ERA album), and some have been dubbed onto unofficial issues. But even these will sound better here, transferred from the original master lacquers still retained in the Capitol vaults. On BLUE MUSIC arranger Gene Howard acknowledges the orchestra’s growing jazz reputation by giving center spot to the lyrical trombone of Jimmy Simms, who obliges with a smooth, melodic Bill Harris-style solo.

Kenton’s is usually identified as a composer’s orchestra rather than an improviser’s, and Bob Cooper made the point that Stan believed an arrangement’s symmetry was essential to its success, and only on rare occasions allowed his sidemen to stretch out with extra choruses on live dates in the way many other leaders would. Nevertheless, from the beginning Stan featured his soloists extensively (and credited them more often than most), and commissioned his arrangers to write special scores to highlight exceptional talents. Boots Mussulli’s chart of BODY AND SOUL for his teammate Vido Musso, allows Vido to demonstrate the more lyrical side of his virtuosity, in contrast to the up tempo excitement he was more often called upon to generate. Musso’s masterly control of his horn is never in doubt in a Hawkins-like solo which finds him ranging from an almost “cool” tone at the start, to the less attractive higher register in the closing crescendo.

Throughout the ARTISTRY IN RHYTHM period, Stan’s was a working dance band, albeit with a strong jazz orientation, and as such played its share of the sweet as well as the swing, which usually meant a Gene Howard vocal, WE’LL TOGETHER AGAIN hits a mellow mood, thanks to the band’s super-smooth performance, and the pensive Mussulli/ Musso solo obbligatos. “Romance time with the Stan Kenton orchestra” (as the radio announcers used to say), means a sophisticated ballad played with impeccable taste, and a recording that has never been issued before, even on Capitol Transcriptions.

Stan liked Roland’s arrangement of EASY STREET so much, he revived it in 1951 for June to sing on the second Innovations tour. This transcription version is a different recording from the one put out on Capitol Records at that time, and is actually the better interpretation. June sounds more assured, and the band performs the impressive score with panache. One advantage of ET recordings was that at times the band could stretch out a little more than on the three-minute average duration of a 78 issue, and ON THE SUNNY SIDE OF THE STREET runs its full course. Roland’s is an out-and-out jazz interpretation of this popular standard, with solo space for Stan’s lithe piano work, and some rugged trombone from the versatile Simms, as well as obbligatos from Musso and Wetzel that beautifully complement Christy’s chorus.

Buddy Childers told me he was “an extremely young and naive 16” when he first joined the band in January 1943. But from all accounts, his inexperience was combined with a brashness that did little to endear him to his fellow musicians, who made him “the butt of every rotten joke and trick some of the cruelest men I have ever met could devise.” But Buddy stuck it out, and such was his amazing talent that within six months of joining he was already playing some trumpet lead. Stan called him “the boss of the brass section,” and it’s a lead-type solo he plays on I SURRENDER DEAR, convincing in its instrumental authority, and featuring Buddy’s impressive technique in a bravura display of high-note brilliance.

BEGIN THE BEGUINE was evidently well-liked by Kenton, as the band played no less than seven different arrangements between 1941 and 1961. This version from 1945 is Stan’s own work, a swinging dedication to the Cole Porter standard with room for a splash of tenor from a rather subdued Vido Musso. Gene Roland’s TWO MOOSE IN A CABOOSE is basically a simple riff dressed up Kenton-style, and a title Gene would never have gotten away with in later years, given Stan’s aversion to such puns. It features Vido Musso and Boots Mussulli (get it?) in lively form; for my taste Boots’s Carter-like tones, the better soloist of the pair.

(K) DECEMBER 20,1945

SOLITUDE is Jimmy Simms’s solo workout, and it’s an adept performance, with a style and articulation so close to that of Bill Harris they might have been twins. Unfortunately, Simms quit the band immediately after this date, and did not stay long enough to acquire a reputation that compared with either Bill Harris in the Herman Herd or his successor Kai Winding with Kenton. Simms’s expressive solo on SOLITUDE, eloquently stated and beautifully phrased, is a clear indication he could have been in the same league.

With the arrival of Pete Rugolo, Gene Roland’s days as chief arranger are numbered, though he will be in and out of the band like a yo-yo in every decade. Roland was what one might call a “character,” and his life lacked the stability of more sober individuals like Rugolo, or Kenton himself. Stan once told me, “Gene is one of the most creative individuals we’ve ever had around the band. Gene is a compulsive writer; he writes all the time. We were always very close. I don’t remember how many times he quit, and how many times he got fired, but we always wound up together again. Roland is a very talented guy.” Certainly no one during the forties made the band “swing” more than Gene, especially on his backings for Christy. And one of the swingiest of all is NO BABY, NOBODY BUT YOU. June’s initial reputation as “The Girl That Sings With A Beat” was due in no small manner to Gene’s spirited charts, which moved the band in a way Stan’s writing never could (or perhaps wanted to).

While he was still in the army, Rugolo submitted some scores to Stan that he had written in the Kenton style. Stan liked them so well that he issued a standing invitation to Rugolo to join the band as soon as he was discharged, and Clinton Roemer told me, “I first met Pete in November 1945 at a Sunday matinee at the Hollywood Palladium.” He and his wife Jan had come down from northern California, where he was still in the army, to spend a few days with the band. He must have received an assignment at that time, because he returned as a civilian a week or two later with an arrangement of EMBRACEABLE YOU that I copied on November 26th. NEVER TOO LATE TO PRAY followed on December 4th. I recall being at the rehearsal for the latter, and the arrangement was something that no one had ever heard the likes of. OPUS A DOLLAR THREE EIGHTY wasn’t Pete at all — that was a conscious effort to write in Stan’s style.

Rugolo agrees that in the beginning he did try to write like Kenton, because he felt that was what Stan would want. Kenton however gave Fete complete freedom to write his own way, and a deep and abiding friendship was forged between the two musicians. Even today, Rugolo still feels a great loyalty towards Stanley, and gratitude for the license he was given as a young writer to experiment. It was, of course, a two-way thing; Kenton was thrilled by Rugolo’s charts, which revitalized the band and gave it a new and exciting direction. And Rugolo was in seventh heaven because, “ I could arrange the way I wanted to, and even compose originals and know they’d be heard. And Stan never said, ‘don’t do it this way,’ or ‘do it that way.’ He was willing to try anything, as long as he felt the writer really meant what he was saying.”

NEVER TOO LATE TO PRAY has overtones of a spiritual, and is very different from the ballads usually assigned to Howard. Rugolo opens with an off-beat, dissonant introduction that hints at things to come, and maintains the melancholy mood throughout a masterful orchestration. In complete contrast, TEA FOR TWO jumps in an up-tempo version, which although credited to Roland sounds more like a “head” than a written arrangement. Featuring Boots Mussulli’s fleet-footed alto, composer Vincent Youmans would have had difficulty recognizing his sedate song from NO, NO NANETTE at all.

When this radio transcription version of ONE TWENTY was issued in THE KENTON ERA, the composer was given as Stan Kenton, but this was subsequently corrected to Ralph Yaw, who wrote the piece in 1941. Stan’s updated orchestration, played at a slightly faster tempo than the phono recording of January 16, 1945, has the choppy beats and staccato accents of Yaw’s 1941 arrangement largely eradicated; this one swings, and the high spot is the jewel of a solo by Boots Mussulli on alto saxophone.

Almost a throw-away, this brief arrangement of DON’T BLAME ME is all vocal. Gene sings in a perfectly straight style, and is in some ways an odd choice of vocalist for the normally adventurous Kenton. But Stan saw Howard’s ballads as a necessary balance to the jazz instrumentals, and a good-looking guy singing of romance on the bandstand probably did no harm to the band’s reputation among the girls who crowded the ballrooms with their dance dates.

Capitol producer Bill Miller said that the phono version of INTERMISSION RIFF was substituted onto Capitol Transcription B-95 “because the transcription recording did not come out well.” Whatever the reason for the switch, it wasn’t that, as proven by this superior transcription version of INTERMISSION, heard here for the first time ever. Possibly it was too long even for ET radio play (though a solo could have been deleted even in pre-tape days), but more likely Capitol saw a potential hit in Wetzel’s riff, and wanted the phono recording to gain as much airplay as possible and thus become identified in people’s minds. This relaxed version, taken at a slightly slower tempo than usual, runs for four minutes, with sparkling solos from Musso and Mussulli, and sandwiched between the saxophones a very fine muted trumpet improvisation from the composer himself. This performance doesn’t shout as much as some Kenton, but 50 years on it still sounds as modem as tomorrow, and is my own preferred interpretation.

IT AIN’T NECESSARILY SO is a hold-over from 1944, and was originally arranged by Ken Hanna for Anita O’Day. (Throughout 1945 June continued to sing some selections from O’Day’s repertoire, until enough new songs had entered the book for these to be phased out. Though never sung by O’Day, even TAMPICO had originally been arranged with Anita in mind.) Performed in two tempos, this is the only Kenton recording of the Gershwin standard I am aware of in any form whatsoever, and has never before been released, even on Capitol Transcriptions. This brand-new performance is a real bonus for all Kenton/Christy devotees, and it’s Ray Wetzel playing the tasty muted trumpet obbligato.

Stan’s policy of allowing his bandsmen to exercise their writing talents continues with trombonist Milt Kabak’s arrangement of I NEVER THOUGHT I’D SING THE BLUES. It’s a solid, workmanlike score, though not quite in the same class as the best of Roland’s current writing. This ET session ends with short versions of ARTISTRY IN RHYTHM, Stan’s OPENING and CLOSING THEMES, intended for use as signature tunes on radio programs using the Capitol Transcription sides. The CLOSING THEME is longer than usual, and contains a swing section different from any other recording.

(L) DECEMBER 26, 1945

On the day after Christmas 1945, Stan waxed two novelty numbers, SHOO FLY PIE AND APPLE PAN DOWDY and I BEEN DOWN IN TEXAS for back-to-back release in February 1946. Bright as a button and sharp as a tack, the performances transcend the frivolous material, proving that if you’re Kenton you can make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. June sings the paean of praise to edible substances as though the lyrics make sense, and does it so well the record reached #8 in Billboard’s Top 20. Joe Greene wrote the flip-over, commending the virtues and vices of the Lone Star state, and featuring all the vocal talent the band could muster. It’s hard to believe this was done on the first complete take, and I wonder how many breakdowns there were before that! Notice how Stan characteristically clears his throat before starting to sing, a sure sign of slight nervousness on his part. No one would claim this is high art, but it sure is superbly played fun, and hasn’t that always been part of the magic of jazz?

(M) JANUARY 14, 1946

ALL THE TIME is a pleasant ballad, heard here for the first time. It may have remained on the shelf for technical reasons, because Musso’s tenor obbligato tends to over blow Howard’s voice, but this is a minor deficiency in order to gain fresh Kenton material. In correspondence with me before his death in 1993, Gene claimed the writing as his own, but this doesn’t sound like typical Howard scoring at all, and Gene’s rather bland vocal is compensated by what must be an early Rugolo orchestration.

THAT’S THE LEAST YOU CAN DO is another hitherto unreleased master, a tuneful ballad well-sung by Howard, and another expert Rugolo arrangement. Pete was very timid when he first joined the band, and Stan said he deliberately assigned Rugolo some Howard ballads to score at first, so that Pete could get the feel of the band gradually and become convinced of the validity of his writing. Note that it took a complete three-hour session to record these two Howard songs, both of which have remained unissued until this time!

Kenton said that INTERMISSION RIFF was adapted by Ray Wetzel from a background riff Vido Musso used to play on BODY AND SOUL, and which developed into a full orchestral head arrangement. Many fans have noted that the opening theme of Gerald Wilson’s YARD DOG MAZURKA for Jimmie Lunceford (but which is not repeated throughout the rest of MAZURKA) is the same as the main theme of INTERMISSION RIFF. Musicians pick up ideas and motifs from many sources, often stored in the subconscious, and their subsequent use does not necessarily imply plagiarism.

It turned out that the looser, free-flowing lines of INTERMISSION RIFF made it better material for ad-lib blowing than anything written by Kenton or Rugolo, and it was used for that purpose by every edition of the band. A very popular “standard” in the Kenton book, it was probably played more often over the years than any other tune save for ARTISTRY IN RHYTHM (though at concerts never to announce the intermission!).

June sings the blues so well, and Gene Roland writes so beautifully in that medium, it was common sense to put them together (and it’s recognizing the obvious and doing something about it that made Stan such a natural leader). June gives a gorgeous performance on Mel Torme’s FOUR MONTHS, THREE WEEKS, TWO DAYS, ONE HOUR BLUES, but it’s Roland’s inventive arrangement that really rocks the band. It’s a bop-influenced chart that towards the end features a spectacular trumpet riff not unlike that heard on Dizzy Gillespie’s GOOD DUES BLUES and that wasn’t recorded for Musicraft until some five months later.

(N)JUNE 4, 1946

RIKA JIKA JACK is a rhythmic novelty, and apparently a play on words, given a large degree of artistic license regarding geographical inaccuracies. Jack resides in Reykjavik (Rika Jika), the capital of Iceland, and the “adora” repeatedly sung during the band vocal bears a strong resemblance to aurora (borealis). June tackles the largely wordless vocalese with expertise, though the artistic level is undermined by the triviality of the “Eskimo” lyrics connecting the main choruses. The performance outstrips the quality of the material. The alternate take two is most noticeably different from the regular take in Winding’s trombone solo. Bill Miller comments, “The release of take two of master 1135 in England is an obvious error; it should have been take three.”

A strong rapport had rapidly been established between Kenton and Rugolo. In later years, Kenton would often clash with his arrangers, mainly because each wanted to change the character of the band to fit his own conception of how it should sound. Rugolo, quiet and unassuming, had no such ambition, and there was no conflict with the leader’s impulsive, forceful personality. Rugolo, now firmly established as chief arranger for the remainder of the decade, wrote explicitly for the orchestra in the style and sound desired by Kenton, though Pete’s own innate writing skills would soon surpass those of his mentor.

The conventional wisdom of the Kenton/Rugolo partnership is false, for in actuality their writing styles are quite different. Rugolo once commented, “ I would say I could copy Kenton more easily than he could copy me.” When I asked Pete if he considered his writing similar to Stan’s, Pete replied, “Only on the early pieces; but not on any of the progressive ones.” ARTISTRY IN BOOGIE is one of those early compositions, and a genuine piece of teamwork (as is the melody of COLLABORATION). BOOGIE has a simple theme, the composers being frustrated by the unvarying nature of the idiom. Clinton Roemer was present on the session, and recalls that both Stan and Pete played piano, Stan the right hand part, Pete the left. The core of the arrangement is the way it builds repetitively through a succession of solos to a very loud climax. Orchestrated by Rugolo, it’s an exciting experience, but not one of the band’s more subtle performances.

Kenton’s feelings towards Vido Musso were ambivalent. Stan always had a high regard for technical proficiency, and no one questioned Musso’s excellent technique and wide range on his instrument. In addition, Vido played with the rich, deep tones that Stan preferred to the Lester Young school, while his enthusiastic solos generated great excitement and passion. At the same time, Stan knew that Vido’s very qualities — in particular his volume — created an imbalance in the saxophone section, which he dominated rather than complemented, COME BACK TO SORRENTO is an Italian folksong, arranged in grandiose style by one Sicilian (Rugolo) for another, and features Musso at his most flamboyant. Audiences loved it, and Stan called for the number often, which pleased Vido mightily, but not necessarily the rest of the band!

Note that master 1138 is the first attempt at recording COLLABORATION, but it proved impossible to get a complete take in the time remaining on this session.

(O) JUNE 7, 1946

Ray Wetzel’s importance to the band lay far more in his lead trumpet (which he split with Buddy Childers) than his occasional comedy vocal like WHO’S GOT A TENT FOR RENT, a lament about the post-war housing shortage. Stan credited Wetzel with doing the most to develop the pure, powerful sound of the trumpet team, which played with the minimum of vibrato. Ray wanted every man in the section to blow with the strength and authority of a lead player, and to that end he’d encourage the younger guys to attempt the first trumpet parts, to build up their confidence and proficiency. For precision, accuracy and stamina, under Wetzel’s guidance the trumpet quintet became the most dependable in the business. Kenton told me: “We were all very fond of Ray, and had great respect for his abilities and influence in the orchestra.”

The band lifts Irving Berlin’s I GOT THE SUN IN THE MORNING of the hit musical ANNIE GET YOUR GUN with an enthusiastic rendition. June sings the rousing Rugolo score with appropriate pep and gusto, but it’s Musso’s full-bodied tenor solo that raises the temperature in this spirited performance.

PEG O’ M Y HEART opens with a deceptively laid-back piano/bass introduction that sets the slowish tempo for an imaginative arrangement which reverses the usual roles of solos and orchestra: the solos are all melodic, and it’s the intermittent, unexpected crashes of the Kenton brass at its most powerful which appears to “improvise” at Rugolo’s bidding. Musso’s soulful tenor, Chico’s tuneful trumpet and Winding’s smooth trombone contrast vividly with the abrasive orchestral interjections, until Al Anthony emerges from the saxophones to lead the way into a resonant finale. It’s Rugolo at his most inventive, and one of several standards arranged in similarly ingenious formats which will turn up on the next few sessions.

This transcription session is celebrated for the first ballad recordings by June with the Kenton band. And Pete has provided a striking score on COME RAIN OR COME SHINE for her debut, replete with classical nuances, dazzling harmonies and stunning displays of dissonance. Christy sings with sincerity, and in fact performs better here than on the phono recording of COME RAIN OR COME SHINE made in 1951 (where her voice sounds strained), and the band also interprets the difficult chart with more feeling than its 1951 counterpart. Jazz is a music which exists at the time of its invention, and to which it is often impossible to return with the same conviction.

Gene Howard’s score of THEY SAY IT’S WONDERFUL is elevated by a short but beautifully phrased solo from Musso at his most melodic. I DON’T KNOW WHY, I JUST DO is a Rugolo arrangement on a different musical level, that opens with a relaxed piano solo from Stan, and between Gene’s capable choruses features a long saxophone section solo. Rugolo gives the section a lighter, airier sound than Stanley, with less prominence on the deep baritone, and an emphasis on Al Anthony’s alto lead.

Kenton tended to pigeonhole his singers (Christy the jump tunes, Howard the ballads), doubtless to give them easily-recognized identities, and hence improve their popularity. Two factors probably caused Stan to rethink: Gene Howard’s career was coming to an end; but more importantly, June had recently recorded several ballads away from the band for Capitol Transcriptions, and Stan must have recognized the quality of her work, because shortly afterwards he asked Rugolo to start scoring slower numbers for Christy, HE’S FUNNY THAT WAY is June’s second ballad on this session, and this is the recording Capitol used in 1949 on the ENCORES album. June was a versatile, all-around singer, but it is probably the ballads for which she is now best loved, and she performs FUNNY with style and distinction (assisted, of course, by yet another persuasively apposite Rugolo chart).

LOVER by contrast is as close as Kenton ever gets to a flagwaver; a frantic, up-tempo arrangement that soars into the stratosphere and bears little relation to the lilting waltz the composer had in mind. This is of course a totally different recording from the regular phono release recorded on March 31, 1947.

(P) JULY 12,1946

During 1946 Gene Roland joined the band again, this time playing valve trombone, for which he wrote the parts, thus making the section a five-man team. Kenton was planning his first Capitol album ARTISTRY IN RHYTHM, and after the success of JUST A-SITTIN’AND A-ROCKIN’ and FOUR MONTHS BLUES, asked Gene to compose a special blues chart for Christy, an original which avoided the usual lyrics and cliches. Roland responded with the up-tempo AIN’T NO MISERY IN ME. In one of his most famous quotes from THE KENTON ERA album, Stan used the orchestration to illustrate his conviction that a jazz emotion could be realized even without the presence of a rhythm section setting a beat: “A good example was the sound created by Kai Winding’s trombone on Gene Roland’s AIN’T NO MISERY IN ME. And when Gene quit Kenton again following one of their perennial spats, Stan missed the fifth trombone so much, he brought in Skip Layton later in 1946, and made the trombones a permanent five-man section.

Shelly Manne came into the band earlier in the year, after some of the sidemen heard him on 52nd Street. Shelly told me he was pleased to accept Stan’s offer, “Because I thought it was an important new orchestra, and I welcomed the opportunity to express myself creatively within the context of a big band.” At the beginning some of the guys found his playing obtrusive. “I was an east coast drummer,” said Shelly, “and I don’t think all the men were used to my free, loose concept. I think that looser feeling was the main thing.”

Kenton loved Shelly’s experiments with rhythmic and percussive colors, and particularly his concept of melodic drum playing, which allowed him to relate his percussion work more closely with the roles of the other sections of the orchestra. Pete composed a fully-structured chart to showcase Shelly’s talents, and ARTISTRY IN PERCUSSION is in no way the mindless drum solo which most bands featured, but instead involves Manne’s tom-toms, bass and snare drums in an integrated musical composition; a three-way partnership between the orchestra, Manne’s percussion artistry and Rugolo’s modem, progressive writing (which in this instance owes a deep debt to Igor Stravinsky).

Originally called ARTISTRY IN BASS, Kenton’s regard for Eddie’s work caused him to retitle the chart SAFRANSKI though it’s really as much a workout for Stan’s fleet piano as it is the Safranski bass. It’s a full-scale celebration of their duets which figure on so many arrangements from this period. Like Shelly on drums, Eddie’s bass is as much a melodic as a rhythmic instrument, and his skills are evident on many pieces: listen to the subtle manner in which he opens the way for Musso’s tenor on PEG O’ MY HEART. Whether this and similar examples were written by Rugolo or invented by Eddie is open to doubt, nor does it really matter. Safranski (like his idol Jimmy Blanton before him) was a giant of the string bass, and he gives a masterly performance on both takes of his name-piece, as he bows and plucks his way through Rugolo’s impressionistic composition.

Thwarted in his desire to present Maurice Ravel’s BOLERO i n a jazz setting, Stan instead commissioned Rugolo to write an original score utilizing the rhythms of this Spanish dance. ARTISTRY IN BOLERO is a disciplined performance and classical in tone, building from a soft beginning to a fiery finale, with thoughtful contributions from Musso and Winding en route.

(Q)JULY 18, 1946

Gene Howard navigates the increasingly modern-styled Rugolo arrangements with aplomb, though his singing style fits less easily than the more jazz-oriented Christy. After a deceptively serene introduction, UNTIL THE REAL THING COMES ALONG is Rugolo at his most turbulent, and the Howard voice backed by this dissonant orchestration produces an unlikely combination, which somehow jells despite the incongruity, I’M YOURS is not such a good song, and probably Howard preferred the rather less ingenious arrangement! Gene could actually handle jump songs with style, and in retrospect it seems a pity Stan restricted his range to ballads on recording dates.

Two standards from the Rugolo pen: YESTERDAYS is a showcase for a long, rhapsodic solo from Vido, who is full of ideas until it comes time to exit, when he resorts to his by now familiar upper-register cliches. I’VE GOT THE WORLD ON A STRING is a more ambitious piece of writing that relaxes into an easy tempo with the almost obligatory piano/bass exercise and continues with an atypical trombone duet before featuring the saxophones in section and solos. It’s a pity stereo recording wasn’t invented then, so we could separate more clearly all the counterpoint going on behind Al Anthony’s alto. The discordant ending is in fascinating contrast to the melodic character of the main arrangement.

ECUADOR was the first of a proposed series of compositions intended to form a suite, with each part representing a musical portrait of a Latin-American country. Unfortunately the idea did not progress beyond this initial stage, which is strange considering Kenton’s life-long interest in this form of music, and the fact Roland’s contribution (even allowing for his Bijou-like debt to Ralph Burns) is one of the most strongly thematic and best-constructed compositions he ever produced for Stan. Manne’s drums work overtime forging the Latin rhythm, and Winding has responsibility for presenting the tuneful theme, in a very polished and highly organized performance. Roland’s gem in the crown!

END OF THE WORLD is more typically Roland, a swinging excuse for a string of improvisations (in particular Musso’s tenor), and so-named as a pun, because the writing is based on the popular song BEYOND THE BLUE HORIZON.

Stan’s writing is in a class of its own, more straight forward and less tricky than Pete’s, but endowed with elegance and elan that is essentially Kenton. As Rugolo put it, “Stan had his own style of writing that was different from anyone else’s. Everything he wrote sounded like Stan Kenton.” Both MORE THAN YOU KNOW and REED RAPTURE were written several years previously, though Stan updated them to fit the current orchestra’s more modern concepts. Stan told me, ”The four saxophone things I wrote in 1940, REED RAPTURE, OPUS IN PASTELS, ETUDE FOR SAXOPHONES and TRIBUTE TO A FLATTED FIFTH were separate compositions, or etudes. They were never in any way related. Benny Carter was my ideal as a writer, and in the beginning days I tried to copy Benny.” Even MORE THAN YOU KNOW, scored for the full band, features the saxophone section, obtaining a resonance and richness that only Kenton could achieve. However much the style of the band would change over the ensuing years as a string of different arrangers strutted their stuff, this was the sound that would remain constant and unchanging; the link between all the different Kenton orchestras, past and present.

® JULY 19, 1946

YOU MAY NOT LOVE ME and THAT’S THE LEAST YOU CAN DO were to be Gene Howard’s last recordings. Capitol’s executives advised Kenton that Gene simply did not fit the band’s growing reputation as a jazz outfit. Stan and Gene were good friends (they’d roomed together in earlier years when money was tight and accommodations in short supply because of the war), and Howard accepted the inevitable without rancor, especially as Stan offered him the post of publicity manager within the Kenton organization, a position Gene maintained with expertise until the summer of 1954.

Ray Wetzel’s tribute to the Hollywood thoroughfare SEPULVEDA is a bit of harmless fun. Because of Kenton’s reputation for pomposity, it’s often forgotten he always included some comedy songs in his repertoire, starting in 1941 with ST. JAMES INFIRMARY, a number Stan himself was still singing in 1976.

On I’D BE LOST WITHOUT YOU Ken Hanna tries his hand at writing in the modern manner. The result is a low-keyed, relaxed setting for June’s vocal, and lots of space for a very fine trombone improvisation by Kai Winding, who was once embarrassed to find himself billed as “Stan Kenton and His Orchestra, featuring the lovely Kai Winding.” It’s a sobriquet that matches his talent!

LOVERMAN is Winding’s full-scale workout: a beautiful song, and an awesome solo. It was Kai who built the trombone section into an extension of his own forceful yet melodic style, with a soloistic approach to ensemble playing, as explained to me by Milt Bernhart, “Kai Winding was the lead trombone in 1946-47, and possibly the most important player in the band at that time. His style was unique, and Stan wisely allowed him much freedom. Even when playing lead over the section, Kai would change figures and inflections as his feelings dictated, and we all got pretty good at anticipating this and following him. It was kind of a game, like a steeplechase, and sometimes Kai would even become nettled because we had second-guessed an especially intricate variation of the original part.” Under Winding’s leadership, the trombones attained a vibratoless purity of sound, and perfected the unique tonal blend and unity of phrasing that became a Kenton trademark.

Roland’s Highland fling SCOTCH AND WATER gives the dis explicit beat. WILLOW WEEP FOR ME is scored throughout, tinct impression he prefers his swing undiluted, and allows just about every soloist in the band a chance to stand up and shout, albeit briefly. Of special note is the first appearance of Bob Cooper, who delivers a beautifully constructed solo in a firmer, cooler tone than the breathy Musso. The trumpet coda by Buddy Childers is flashy, but particularly effective in this context. This recording was first released in 1972 on a Dutch Capitol LP called ARTISTRY IN JAZZ, but was pulled from the album when it was issued in England and America. The Dutch LP was produced by Pete Venudor (and yes, that is an anagram of PEANUT VENDOR real name Paul Visser). Pete and I have worked closely together since 1963, and while we often disagree on details (all opinions expressed in these notes are my own), the sharing of information is such that we each owe an equal debt to the other. Venudor’s knowledge and perception of the music are extensive, and I am pleased to acknowledge him as my friend and colleague, and for his advice in the preparation of these notes.

If Stan’s piano intro to COCKTAILS FOR TWO makes you wince, look again at the title! Parody over, this rapidly settles into a relaxed groove, as Chico’s expansive open trumpet contrasts with Wetzel’s deft muted dance, and Musso demonstrates once again why he was so highly rated on tenor. A comparatively uncluttered arrangement for Rugolo, the whole band opens out at the end to bring the number to a typically Kentonian conclusion.

EVERYBODY SWING is based on the TEA FOR TWO changes, and provides a typical framework for searing solos in an all-too-brief production. Though not so richly textured as Rugolo’s writing, Roland’s use of engaging harmonies and attractive backgrounds always gave his writing an individual distinction. Nevertheless, for all his talent Roland was at heart a modem swing writer, and he never turned the band around in the manner of Pete Rugolo. If Pete hadn’t come along when he did,I am sure Kenton’s urge for change and experimentation would inevitably have made him look past Roland for different musical paths to follow.

(S) JULY 25,1946

On IT’S A PITY TO SAY GOODNIGHT, Rugolo shows he too can pen a swingy, “commercial” arrangement — or at least, as “commercial” as Stan’s ever going to get, given that big band sound. June sings with a zing, and that special “catch” in the throat that is her trademark. And if the spoken bit at the end is a little too cutesy for comfort, well, what red- blooded male isn’t going to respond to such an offer?

I don’t know who picked WILLOW WEEP FOR ME, a little-known song from the 1930s by Ann Ronell. What is certain, is that Stan wanted something special for Christy and gave Rugolo carte blanche to arrange the number any way he saw fit, with nothing but artistic considerations in mind. Without Pete’s classical background (here his debt is to Debussy), WILLOW could never have been fashioned in the very special styling that Pete produced, one which confirmed him irrefutably as the leading exponent of virtually a new art form, in which a jazz mood could be expressed by means of implied tempo rather than an explicit beat. WILLOW WEEP FOR ME is scored throughout, even in its piano/bass duet by Kenton and Safranski and Kai Winding solo, and though Christy is featured on the song which would remain in her canon for the rest of her career, the real star is the arranger.

Actually June does not sound entirely at ease on WILLOW. She is slightly tentative in places, and her insecurity is indicated by excessive vibrato. It was, after all, by far the most difficult song she had been asked to tackle, and her voice was not yet deep enough to convey fully the plaintive expression that the piece demands. She would sing it better in the future; yet, so well does she blend with the band as she breaks notes and bends words that, combined with the natural purity of her voice, this remains the definitive version — a perfect artistic achievement, and a landmark in the evolution of the Kenton orchestra.

(T) JULY 26, 1946

Stan surprises with FANTASY , a composition unlike his usual writing, and a reminder that the band was originally formed for the purpose of exploiting Kenton’s own scores. It’s a fast-paced, classically-oriented piece, though the style is very different from Rugolo’s, and indicates Stan has been listening to Ravel’s ADAGIO ASSAI from his PIANO CONCERTO FOR THE LEFT HAND on which FANTASY is based. Following fleet solos from Musso and Mussulli, Kenton demonstrates his nimble-footed trumpet team can outrun Woody’s herd, in a display of high-speed pyrotechnics that characterizes one of Stan’s most ambitious creations.

In 1942, the band was playing a lot of movie theater dates, backing vaudeville acts as well as performing its own sets between showings of the featured film. To conclude his performance, Stan wanted a special production number that would show off all the sections of the band, and came up with his own untitled composition. His friend and radio announcer Jimmy Lyons suggested CONCERTO TO END ALL CONCERTOS, not intending to imply that Stan had produced the ultimate in concertos, but rather to make fun of the overuse of the word at that time in contemporary jazz. The title stuck, though the number was neglected until Stan dusted it off and completely re-orchestrated the work in 1946.

CONCERTO has the advantage of a strong, melodic theme at its core, plus a secondary up-tempo theme (almost resembling a fast march), and it is the juxtaposition of these two contrasting motifs which accounts for much of the tension and release in this richly-textured, multi-tempoed composition. Part one is much the flashier. Stan states the leisurely main theme on piano, immediately and unexpectedly followed by the fast counter-theme from the brass. A drop in tempo brings on Musso, who embellishes the main theme in a beautifully apposite solo; the tempo picks up for Wetzel’s shout in the stratosphere, and then still more for an awesome Mussulli solo of such fleetness it appears to glide effortlessly from his horn. But the best is yet to come: Stan Kenton the writer is the improviser in part two, as each section in turn defines The Kenton Sound and interprets the composer’s inventions on the main theme: the full-toned, vibratoless voice of the magnificent trombone choir anchored by Varsalona’s bass bone; a gorgeous saxophone stanza, with the widest possible spread between Gioga’s deep baritone and Al Anthony’s alto reaching for the skies; and the pure, perfectly blended trumpet trio probing Stan’s paraphrases of the melody. And finally, a return to the up-tempo theme and a rousing flourish to wind things up. Arrangers may come and go, but there is only one boss of the Stan Kenton Orchestra!

Part two of CONCERTO TO END ALL CONCERTOS, being the harder part to play, was recorded first, before the band became tired, and hence has a lower master number than part one. This was entered incorrectly on Stan’s artist recording file, resulting in confusion at Capitol. When STAN KENTON’S MILESTONES was issued in 1950, the boxed set of 45 rpm singles (CDF-190) was auto-coupled, with part two preceding part one in playing order, though it was simple enough to switch the discs around. Less easy was the Canadian pressing of LP TI90, which played part two before part one! And finally, in case anyone considers the main theme of CONCERTO bears any resemblance to the standard FOR YOU, FOR ME, FOR EVERMORE, I’d point out that this George Gershwin melody was published posthumously in 1946, four years after Kenton’s piece de resistance!

(U) AUGUST 2, 1946

Marked as “unnamed” in Capitol’s files, master proves to be an arrangement of the COLLABORATION written in tandem by Kenton and Rugolo, but a very different orchestration from the familiar version. It’s a rather wild, up-tempo swing adaptation, released here for the first time ever. Clinton Roemer rejected it for issue on Creative World, remarking, “Apparently Pete wrote this arrangement, which was junked, and then restored in its known form. A few similarities exist, but this version would be an embarrassment.” With the advantage of hindsight, the distinguished COLLABORATION theme is clearly more suited to a slower tempo, but this is a good take, with impressive Winding trombone, and some typical Rugolo trademarks during this transitional period to “progressive jazz.” There are instances of what Metronome magazine (reviewing the ENCORES album in 1949), called the band’s “middle period airplane effects,” and the unusual way in which Pete voices the saxophones in counterpoint against the brass does give an “airborne” impression, albeit the plane appears to be weathering turbulent conditions. Neither Kenton nor Rugolo could remember the circumstances of this early COLLABORATION when the recording surfaced in 1972, but it would seem Rugolo realized the theme would be better served at a slower tempo, and rewrote the impressive concert arrangement we now know, which was recorded on February 28, 1947.

DON’T WANT THAT MAN AROUND is a Joe Rizzo ballad dating from 1941, originally sung by Red Dorris as DON’T WANT THAT WOMAN AROUND. Stan deserves credit for recording original material whenever possible, rather than the ephemeral pop hits of the day, and Rizzo’s song is worthy of revival. This version has not been released before, and the robust trumpet solo is slightly under-rehearsed. Stan’s desire for excellence occasionally caused him to remake titles which someone less of a perfectionist would have deemed quite acceptable.

This is the version of OPUS IN PASTELS which obtained the Kenton seal of approval (see also May 4, 1945). Listeners will need sharp ears to detect the variation in the alternate take. There are no solos, and though the attack of the notes varies somewhat on the alternate, there is one discernible different note in a passage that sets up the tune’s ending. This performance (master 1311-2) was sent in error to Australia for its LP THE EARLY YEARS. The master take, though inscribed 1311-2 on the 78, is actually 1311-3.

By this time Stanley had gathered around him an exceptionally creative backing unit in the studio. Bill Miller told me, “While Stan recorded at the MacGregor Studios on Western Avenue, both Dave Dexter and Jim Conkling took turns producing, but after Stan moved to Radio Recorders, Lee Gillette became his producer. Kenton, Gillette and engineer John Palladino were a very inventive recording team.” The echo chamber installed at Radio Recorders added artificial reverberation and depth to the band’s recorded sound, but the saxophones caused the most problems. Miller again: “Stan told us, ‘You’ve got to find a way to make the saxes sound big and gutty.’ So we put a 44BX ribbon mike about six inches above the floor, and the guys stood around it. When we first miked the saxes the mike was up high, and the sound was going up, but this new technique gave us the middle and bottom saxophone sounds which were missing when the saxes were picked up in the conventional way.” Stan’s soloistic writing for the saxophone section is perfectly encapsulated on this definitive recording. OPUS IN PASTELS has the timeless beauty and graceful elegance which is a true hallmark of great music, in or out of jazz.

(V) JANUARY 2, 1947

Late in 1946, Stan decided he wanted to add a vocal group to the band. Many of the big names in the business had featured a singing ensemble, such as the Modemaires with Glenn Miller, and the Pied Pipers with Tommy Dorsey. Even Woody Herman had his Blue Flames. And Stan wanted to try everything! There was some talk of bringing in an established group, and Kenton became interested in Mel Torme’s Meltones, but eventually he decided to start from scratch, and chose the name The Pastels (after his famous saxophone composition) even before the personnel had been picked. The noted vocal expert Dave Lambert was brought in to coach the group, as he told me, “I was commissioned by Stan to organize the group and write their first book of arrangements. I sang with The Pastels only on the occasion of their first recording date; Don McLeod, the last member to join, had not been with them long enough to learn the arrangements for the recording, hence my participation. Both the arrangements on this date were the collaboration of Pete Rugolo (band orchestration) and myself (vocal score). My job was simply to organize the group and get it ready to join the band. Once they left New York (which was immediately after the record date) my work was done, and Pete Rugolo took over.”

The Pastels sound just like an extension of the Kenton orchestra, a foretaste of The Four Freshmen, who based their style on the Kenton trombone section. Lambert was coach, but the Kenton/Rugolo influence is paramount, HIS FEET TOO BIG FOR DE BED is an enjoyable rhythmic novelty, but it failed to make the big-time for Stan, even when reissued in edited form in 1957 when the Calypso was enjoying popularity. Note the addition of two Latin rhythm players, the first occasion Stan enlarged the personnel in this way, but certainly not the last.

On the ballad AFTER YOU The Pastels uncannily resemble a fourth horn section of the band, with Margaret Dale’s voice added to the male quartet pitching the sound some- where between the trombones and trumpets (sounds familiar to mellophonium fanciers?). AFTER YOU became associated with the band and would be recorded twice more by Kenton, with both The Modern Men and The Four Freshmen, though for my taste this first recording with The Pastels remains the definitive version.

(W) FEBRUARY 13, 1947

DOWN IN CHI-HUA-HUA is a lighthearted romp south of the border, written by Kenton veteran Ralph Yaw and novice Johnny Richards. After The Pastels left, Rugolo re-orchestrated the number for the “progressive jazz” band later in the year. Eddie Safranski, whose inventive bass backings add significantly to the musical content of so many charts from this period, here takes part in the comedy; it’s Kenton verbally exhorting Safranski to “Take it easy!” as Eddie runs amok on his bass, ending his “solo” with a wild scream.

The second and previously issued version of DON’T WANT THAT MAN AROUND is very similar to the initial recording, though the trumpet plays with more finesse. Down Beats reviewer named him as Ray Wetzel, but Chico Alvarez and section mate Ken Hanna among others say it was Alvarez. Hanna commented further, “Chico’s solos are faintly reminiscent of a Louis Armstrong style — big tone, hard attack, not too high a range. Wetzel has a thinner tone, more technical form, and higher range.” Whatever, June’s excellent performance typically enhances Rugolo’s modem-styled arrangement.

In January 1947, the Kenton orchestra shared the bill with Cuban bandleader Machito in a concert at New York’s Town Hall. Stan was already increasingly aware of the impact of Afro-Cuban jazz, but the raw energy and rhythmic drive of Machito’s band so impressed him that after the concert he asked Rugolo to compose an original that could compete with Machito’s signature tune TANGA. Pete came up with a highly melodic theme that was all but disguised by the frantic nature of the arrangement, which he named MACHITO. It was the ending that caused the most excitement, a furious high-note chase duet between Buddy Childers’s trumpet and Skip Layton’s trombone. Kenton’s is certainly a much smoother orchestra than the rougher- sounding Machito’s, but this ending was a true original and topped anything of its kind ever tried before. This was the recording released by Capitol in May 1947, though by that time Stan had recorded an even better version (March 31, 1947) which was left unreleased until September 1948, and then in the apparent belief it was a reissue of the first version!

(X) FEBRUARY 27, 1947

By this date, Rugolo has reworked COLLABORATION into the finely-honed vehicle that became a Kenton classic. This hitherto unreleased master was cut the day before the final recording, and is in effect an alternate take, the difference being audible in Winding’s trombone solo. Apparently Kenton thought (correctly) that Kai could do even better, hence the second try next day.

RHYTHM INCORPORATED has a bizarre history at Capitol’s hands, though this time it’s nothing to do with the fact that again the more difficult part two was recorded before part one. Initial release in 1947 was on an AFRS transcription, “Jubilee” program 231, exactly as recorded in two separate parts. The first commercial release was in January 1949 on the ENCORES album (78 rpm, and later 10” LP), but this was of part two only, and with the title inexplicably changed to CAPITOL PUNISHMENT. In 1955, the two parts were joined together for a continuous performance on the 12” ENCORES LP. This involved editing the end of part one and Kenton’s piano intro to part two, and splicing the music together to avoid an awkward transition. This master was awarded the new master number 13571, and was also issued under the title CAPITOL PUNISHMENT. To complete the story, part one was issued on its own in 1962 as RHYTHM INCORPORATED on THE FABULOUS ALUMNI LP, wrongly identified on the liner as part two, and in the evident belief of the producers that this was its first release, though both Lee Gillette and Kent Larsen should have known better.

Musically, the composition (a variation on HOW HIGH THE MOON) has as much of a Roland feel to it as Rugolo. Shelly Manne bops all over the place, while Safranski maintains a regular beat behind a succession of outstanding solos that indicate Stan’s young lions have been listening to the new sounds on 52nd Street. It all winds up with breathtaking brass riffs dominated by Layton’s trumpet-like wails and Childers’s high horn, RHYTHM INCORPORATED swings throughout its four-and-one-half minutes playing time, and is one of the most forthright, exciting scores the Kenton men ever laid down.

(Y) FEBRUARY 28, 1947

I have always enjoyed good vocal groups, and The Pastels are top of the pile (bettered perhaps only by The Starlighters, who also recorded for Capitol, but they didn’t last long either). Stan’s guys (and a gal) sing together, in tune, and aren’t afraid to take chances, as close listening to what at first appears a straightforward rendition of THERE IS NO GREATER LOVE will reveal. Rugolo’s brilliant orchestral backing helps, of course! Many of Joe Greene’s songs were admittedly of a commercial nature, but the best of his work became closely identified with the orchestra. ACROSS THE ALLEY FROM THE ALAMO is lyrically ludicrous, but rhythmically it moves. The band plays Rugolo’s super-slick arrangement with great panache, and with June at her hippest, the total effect is far greater than the sum of its parts. Vido Musso’s booming tenor adds greatly to the tension in a solo that must have been at least partly written by Rugolo, so expertly does it fit into the overall score. The lovely melody of COLLABORATION is introduced by Stan’s piano in Pete’s finalized chart, and goes straight into an improvisation on the theme by Kai Winding, part of which is up-tempo, before the whole orchestra winds the piece up. My only regret is that such an outstanding com- position should have been limited in scope by the confines of a 10” 78, with a short playing time at that. Capitol 408, MACHITO backed by COLLABORATION, was issued in America under the logo ARTISTRY IN JAZZ, a short-lived series intended to denote titles of special musical significance — which this certainly was.

Kenton’s piano introduces HOW AM I TO KNOW at slow tempo, with Eddie’s bass dancing nimbly around Stan’s fingers. Articulate scoring for the trombone section highlights this arrangement by trumpeter Ken Hanna. Skip Layton, interviewed by Kenton researcher Tony Cox, said that Hanna wrote the chart as a feature for his trombone, and close listening affirms that both trombone solos are Skip’s work. Layton (like Jimmy Simms before him) is another underrated trombonist, with outstanding tone and technique and improvisational skills, who never quite made it in the competitive world of jazz.

(Z) MARCH 31,1947

THE SPIDER AND THE FLY is an amusing novelty, impeccably performed as always by the Kenton crew. Skip Layton again amazes with his high-note trombone, and it’s Bob Gioga assuming the spider’s role in the spoken invitation to the fly at the end. As Bob told me, “No talent was needed — my first and last venture on that record date. It was my idea, so I got to say the line, but we never used it on dance dates.”

MINOR RIFF is the first of a number of Rugolo charts based on simple motifs and designed to demonstrate the band’s soloists in a jazz setting. (Others include UNISON RIFF, PETE’S RIFF a.k.a. METRONOME RIFF and BLUES IN RIFF.) On a number of compositions created in 1947 Kenton is credited with co-authorship, but Rugolo told me (reluctantly, for he feels an immense loyalty and kinship towards Stanley, and in no way is willing to detract from Kenton’s stature and achievements) that, “More often the actual melody was my own work. Stan wasn’t writing very much at all in 1947. He might have an idea for a composition, and we would discuss each piece at length, and write what we called a ‘menu,’ such as piano intro, Vido first eight, saxophone chorus, Kai solo, and build to a big ending, etc. And then I would go away and write the arrangement, though I might have to change things as the piece developed.”

The MACHITO heard here is the better recording of Rugolo’s tribute to the Cuban leader, which Capitol slipped out, unannounced, in September 1948. Stan cut it again for two reasons, but mainly to add authentic Latin rhythm musicians (bongos and maracas) to the band. Although they are by no means up-front, in the way Stan would use these instruments later in the year, the additional men add a subtle rhythmic nuance to the piece, and must surely make Kenton the first jazz band to use these instruments in such a manner. No doubt earlier instances can be uncovered, but this was certainly before the much publicized Dizzy Gillespie-Chano Pozo partnership which is often cited as the earliest example of Afro-Cuban jazz on record.

According to Skip Layton, there was also some dissatisfaction with the original Layton/Childers high-note chase at the end of the piece (described by Down Beat as “sloppy”). So he and Buddy worked at perfecting their technique to find a better way to execute this very difficult duet. To my ears, both versions are on target, but this second recording has better definition and even greater technical assurance.

(AA) MARCH 31,1947

This is the phono recording of LOVER (already cut for Capitol Transcriptions), and which Stan suggested on a 1952 “Concert In Miniature” broadcast deserved an award of merit for services well rendered: “You know, one time we were at the Paramount Theater in New York, and we played there for possibly nine weeks, and we started doing six or seven shows a day, and like it always happens, a little boredom took place, and there wasn’t anything else to do other than see how fast we could play the arrangement of LOVER and clock it and time it; the fastest time I think was 1 minute and 27 seconds or thereabouts.” The number would often start the second half of the “Stan Kenton In Concert” presentations the band was now playing (so commonplace these days it is hard to remember that in 1947 it was still unusual for an audience to just sit and listen to a jazz band). In later years, Stan would prefer to start with a ballad, but in 1947 he liked to startle with something upbeat, and even played at normal speed there was probably nothing in the book as frenetic as Rugolo’s LOVER.

Of all the new tracks in this box, this first recording of MONOTONY is likely to cause the most excitement, and I can only speculate as to why Bill Miller passed it over in 1954 when putting together THE KENTON ERA. The first half is very different from the issued version, and is unique to the Kenton canon. Opening with Safranski’s bowed bass playing the counter-theme while Stan’s piano picks out the main tune backed by Ahem’s guitar, the arrangement proceeds into almost free-form solo interplay among Wetzel, Layton, Mussulli and Musso. Although they are not really similar, the only Kenton comparison I could make is with the fugal-style solo interplay on Russo’s IMPROVISATION. On MONOTONY the soloists enter singly (starting with the trumpet) and build like a pyramid, until all four are in unison and Musso has the last word. Though doubtless scored by Rugolo, this was a foretaste of the free jazz forms of the six- ties, though no one could credit Rugolo with such foresight because the recording was never heard. This fascinating — and successful — experiment used the soloists, as well as the orchestra, in a truly progressive mode. Hereafter, the solo spot was given to one horn, the alto saxophone of George Weidler.

Skip Layton claimed to lead the trombones on this unissued recording of INTERLUDE. This section with Kai Winding, Skip Layton and Milt Bernhart in its ranks is perhaps the finest Kenton ever led, and the five bones per- form superbly in a very cool, calculated version of the Rugolo classic, confirming Bill Russo’s comment in 1963 that, “Winding somehow got this section of unwieldy instruments to play with speed and lightness and flexibility and with very subtle inflections.” An unusual episode is the use of mutes in the final chorus. INTERLUDE is primarily however a feature for Stan’s piano, and I’d judge his solo is smoother and more finely honed on the December 1947 recording.

(BB) APRIL 1, 1947

One big asset to emerge from the Capitol Transcription sessions (and unfortunately this is the last), is any number of titles which seemingly were not played to any extent on broadcasts, and which would have been lost forever were it not for these recordings. One such is Roland’s ARTISTRY IN HARLEM SWING, from the same stable as the previously reviewed EVERYBODY SWING. The level of musicianship is awesome in this rousing big band interpretation with fine solos from the resident team.

If Christy’s voice sounds huskier than usual on PLEASE BE KIND (and even at less than her best she’s still a winner), it’s because by this date the band was on the point of breaking up from sheer exhaustion. June had contracted influenza, and less than two weeks after this session had to quit the band when she lost her voice altogether. (On April 16, Stan suffered a breakdown himself and disbanded.)

June’s throat condition causes one or two awkward moments on I GOT ITBAD AND THAT AIN’T GOOD, but this is well compensated by the genuine anguish and emotion she brings to Ellington’s song of unrequited affection.

The Pastels were already on notice, and left the band directly after this date, so it seems Stan wanted to record them in depth before it was too late. BY THE RIVER STE. MARIE is arguably their best recording, a fine swing arrangement with space for some bopping vocalese. The other pair of songs are both ballads. Dave Lambert’s vocal score on APRIL IN PARIS indicates this comes from the group’s first book of arrangements, DON’T WORRY ‘BOUT ME is beautifully sung, a precursor of the orchestration Pete would write for June Christy the following year. I wish this version could have been a little longer, but its primary purpose was for radio play.

IF I COULD BE WITH YOU ONE HOUR TONIGHT opens with Stan’s relaxed piano, leading to a plaintive Mussulli alto, and an adroit Safranski bass solo backed by dazzling counterpoint writing for the band. A saxophone section solo leads to Buddy’s high trumpet, but he’s outdone by Layton’s wild trombone, playing notes which stay in tune however high they climb. There’s an imaginatively dissonant ending to one of Pete’s most inventive arrangements in this genre. (See also PEG O’ MY HEART and I’VE GOT THE WORLD ON A STRING.)

SOPHISTICATED LADY is a well-deserved feature for the bravura bass of Eddie Safranski, first bowed and then plucked. Unless you’re an acoustic bass freak, because of the nature of the instrument, the best of bass solos can become monotonous if left unassisted for too long, but Rugolo never allows this to happen in a complex arrangement for the orchestra which enhances rather than intrudes on his soloist’s domain.

The session (and with it the “Artistry In Rhythm” orchestra) ends on a happy note in an uncharacteristically swinging Rugolo arrangement of THE FATAL APPLE, (a.k.a. UNISON RIFF). Pete will revive this tune later in the year, and re-orchestrate it at a slightly slower tempo into a more substantial piece than the rather underdeveloped version heard here.

(CC) SEPTEMBER 24, 1947

After a break of only five months, Kenton is back in the studio with a new band and many new additions to the book. Kenton’s new conception was of the orchestra as primarily a concert unit, rather than a dance band. Orchestras in the past had often played a sprinkling of numbers more suited to listening, but Kenton’s was the first band specifically designed to play concert jazz in a situation totally divorced from a ballroom setting. Stan called it “progressive jazz,” and explained, “We believe that for jazz to progress — and it most certainly shall since it is now an established art form — it must move into the concert field. Progressive jazz is not just an emotional projection from an individual musician, not something always set to a definite beat, but instead a music of strong emotional impact even without rhythm, or possibly in a five-four, seven-four, three-quarter or even a rubato movement. Every composition is an invention, which goes from the arranger’s score to the musicians, whom we depend upon for a pulsation; because our music without the heart of the jazz musician would be nothing but cold, legitimate sounds. Any music we create that isn’t felt by the musician is worthless, because there will be no heart, and as a result no character or meaning.”

In retrospect, 1947-48 can be seen as chief arranger Pete Rugolo’s most creative years. The number, quality and complexity of the scores he produced is literally awesome, especially since every orchestration was constructed by Pete in minute detail with nothing left to chance, and in most cases even the solos were written as an integral part of the composition. Bill Russo, one of the most astute minds in modern jazz, observed in 1963: “Without doubt, Pete Rugolo was the initiator of third stream jazz. He was one of the first men to apply an extensive symphonic or non-jazz compositional technique to the jazz orchestra.” Pete himself put it a little differently to Capitol News: “An arrangement should grow — it should develop into some- thing. Too many modem arrangements are written only for effect, and they don’t build to a climax. I like progressive jazz, and I like to think that my stuff is progressive.”

Enough sidemen from the “Artistry” band returned to provide continuity; and every vacant chair was filled by an accomplished musician; none more so than the amazing lead alto player George Weidler, featured on ELEGY FOR ALTO. George had been playing with Charlie Bamet, and was the estranged husband of the (then) starlet Doris Day. Encouraged by Kenton, and impelled by Rugolo’s legitimate writing for the saxophone section, Weidler’s almost vibratoless alto brought an entirely fresh, classically-inclined conception of saxophone playing into the band, and his pervasive sound frequently colored an ensemble more often the preserve of the Kenton brass. Weidler’s technical control is in evidence throughout the abstract ELEGY, written in 5/4 time to create an ad-lib effect, though in reality every note was written out. Weidler’s unique personality is imposed by his tone and technique, by how he plays rather than by the uncertainty of improvisation.

It’s a tour-de-force which impressed Charlie Parker, who told a doubtless startled Leonard Feather in a 1948 Down Beat Blindfold Test: “Of everything you played, I think I enjoyed Stan’s record best, featuring the alto. Kenton is the closest thing to classical music there is in the jazz field, though as far as I’m concerned, you can’t classify music in words. Personally, I just like to call it music.” Alto saxophonist Frank Pappalardo, incidentally, was never a regular member of the band. As Frank told me: “I was in Charlie Bamet’s orchestra, and George Weidler called me. The Kenton band was just regrouping, and I just filled in on the record dates until Art Pepper could join.”

My own favorite composition of Joe Greene’s is (unusual for Greene) a blues. Like his later song for Kenton ALL ABOUT RONNIE made famous by Chris Connor, SOOTHE ME, for which the gifted Greene wrote both words and music, eschews the novelty side of Joe’s nature for the more sophisticated. As arranged by Pete Rugolo, SOOTHE ME was described by Down Beat as, “Probably the loudest ever,” and has June singing with warmth and an essential empathy for the idiom, while the brass erupts around her in a musical explosion of sound.

CHORALE FOR BRASS, PIANO AND BONGO was originally part of the STANBA SUITE, changed in title during 1947 to PROLOGUE SUITE because it was intended as a prologue or introduction to the new jazz concert music with strong Latin influences that lay ahead. Although composers have always been given as Kenton and Rugolo, Pete told me: “It was Stan’s idea to write the suite, but the music is mostly mine.” Orchestrations were by Rugolo, who also conducted the work, leaving Kenton free to perform at the piano. Rugolo arranged the four movements so that each forms a symmetrical whole, complete in itself and independent of the other parts (which are not thematically united), and for this reason it was decided to maintain the premise on which this entire set is founded, and follow the chronological sequence of the sessions.

CHORALE opens with a challenging duet between the piano and Jack Costanzo’s bongos. Stan’s piano part in this classically-oriented work is meditative and reflective. Rugolo was breaking new ground here, and the interplay between the legitimate, slow-tempoed piano and the inevitably brisker, jazz-influenced bongos is breathtaking. The unison vocal choir usually associated with a ‘chorale’ is replaced by stunning writing for the trombones, punctuated by trumpet interjections, and the piece ends as it began with Costanzo’s bongos providing the final exclamation mark. CHORALE is a notable achievement at all levels, but especially for its innovative and imaginative role of the bongos as an essential component of the composition’s musical tapestry.

(DD) SEPTEMBER 25,1947

At first, the Kenton/Rugolo axis appeared unsure how to utilize the Christy voice in their experiments, and Roemer’s copy files show it wasn’t until a little later in the year that the more advanced vocal scores came to be written. CURIOSITY is a fun song, a catchy tune with quite clever lyrics, which attains the level of art by virtue of its high-powered performance. The “progressive jazz” concerts were in reality never quite as long-haired and humorless as some of these recording sessions might suggest. Kenton knew he had to carry his audience with him, and programs were leavened with some of the more popular numbers from the “Artistry” book, as well as comedy vocals by Ray Wetzel and Eddie Bert. June benefited from a recital during the second half of the concert and was a popular attraction in her own right.

Pete Rugolo named THEME TO THE WEST as the only composition from this period in which Stan had a substantial role as co-writer of the theme; though Skip Layton remembered playing the number, so it may in fact originate from a slightly earlier date. It’s a telling reminder that Kenton’s is a west coast band, a fact sometimes reflected in its music. In this arrangement for piano and orchestra, THEME TO THE WEST is pure Hollywood, inflated and grandiose, though the theme itself is in fact quite distinctive. My colleague Pete Venudor still remembers his embarrassment when he asked Stan if the work was intended as a parody of the Bette Davis-type film concerto and was informed by an unsmiling Kenton it most certainly was written with serious intent. Stan himself called THEME TO THE WEST, “a composition with a lot of melody, very typically the Hollywood type of music. You can imagine a sequence in a motion picture: a big concert hall with pianist playing. It’s not jazz — it actually should have been a big string job k la David Rose or Frank DeVol. I thought we shouldn’t release it because it wasn’t jazz. It certainly has caused controversy though.”

ABSTRACTION combines a Spanish beat with almost martial-style drumming, as Pete expertly builds up pressure and then resolves the tension with exhilarating brass exclamations. The second half is dominated by George Weidler’s cutting alto, backed by masterly orchestral dissonance, leading to a rhythmic fade-out. This is Rugolo at his most abstruse, an enigmatic music that conjures up mental fantasies and mind-bending imagery. The music possesses a surrealistic quality, a term more often associated with art, but which I am sure Stan would have approved of in connection with his “progressive jazz.” ABSTRACTION is seminal Kenton, and a conclusive reaffirmation of Rugolo as the leading modem jazz composer of his era.

FUGUE FOR RHYTHM SECTION is a contrapuntal composition designed to showcase Stan’s six-man team in a highly unusual context, without the benefit of orchestral accompaniment. The complex rhythmic patterns designed by Rugolo never stray anywhere near a regular four-four beat, yet retain a strong jazz perception throughout. The percussion instruments are introduced first: bongos, drums and finally maracas. As the melodic instruments enter (guitar, piano and bass), each is in turn accompanied by one from the opposite section, FUGUE is a complex fusion of an early classical form with modem rhythm instruments, each of which plays a vital and integral role in unraveling Pete’s intricate designs. Both newcomers in the section, guitarist Laurindo Almeida and bongo player Jack Costanzo, were steeped in the rhythmic traditions of South America, and brought immense changes to the character of the band. They endowed the music of “progressive jazz” with a per- suasive Latin flavor, and the music is enriched by their presence.

(EE) OCTOBER 20, 1947

MONOTONY is Pete Rugolo’s re-orchestration of the com- position first recorded on March 31, 1947. There were stories afloat at the time that Capitol considered it so far out they were reluctant to release the side. At a superficial level, Kenton often expressed his interest in music that was “different.” In reality, already evolving in the Kenton psyche was his ultimate design to develop an innovative music that was neither entirely jazz nor classical, but truly original — a new American art form. MONOTONY came as close to this conception as anything yet written, and I think explains Kenton’s concern for the composition.

The work’s individuality stems from a repetitive ‘monotony’ theme played by bowed bass and drums incessantly throughout the score. A somber counter-theme, introduced by piano and then trombones, is broken up by short rhythmic phrases, wailing trombones, Stravinsky-like trumpet dissonance and Weidler’s keening alto. During the stormy resolution both themes battle for supremacy. Trumpets blast out staccato chords against the less emphatic trombones, and sections switch the themes around, until the whole orchestra climaxes with the victorious MONOTONY. The experience was summed up in Down. Beat by Bird: “I like this. Very weird, marvelous idea. It’s such a shock. Give it four stars — definitely.”

(FF) OCTOBER 22, 1947

Nestling within the orchestra are some very fine soloists, and several get the chance to blow on UNISON a revised orchestration of THE FATAL APPLE (see April 1, 1947). The standout is Art Pepper, already a skilled exponent of the “cool school” which would propel him and many other Kenton alumni to increased fame as leaders of the west coast style of jazz in a few years’ time.

In Bob Ahern’s hands, the guitar’s role had been strictly rhythmic. Laurindo Almeida brought an entirely new sound into the orchestra. A virtuoso on his instrument, Laurindo had only recently come to America from his native Brazil in Carmen Miranda’s entourage, and spoke little English when Joe Rizzo recommended him to Kenton. Almeida combined a Latin background with a distinctive tone that was almost classical in its appeal, and while he switched to an electric instrument within the orchestra, he always played solos on an acoustic guitar, using his fingers rather than a pick. Rugolo seized upon the opportunity to employ Almeida’s creativity in any number of compositions at this time, and it would be hard to overemphasize his contributions to titles like FUGUE FOR RHYTHM SECTION and JOURNEY TO BRAZIL. Laurindo’s feature was LAMENT, a tuneful, yet subdued theme in which the orchestra’s occasional bursts of dissonance provide a surprisingly compatible contrast to the delicate, persuasive eloquence of Almeida’s artistry. As with all the Kenton/Rugolo solo items, the performance as a whole is as important as the featured artist, and the subtle use of Costanzo’s bongos on LAMENT cannot go unremarked.

This previously unissued recording of INTRODUCTION TO A LATIN RHYTHM is an entirely successful take, though the orchestration differs in some small details from the December version, and it is played with slightly less vigor. No doubt too, Stan wanted to remake it with the extra Latin percussion on that later session. In some ways I prefer this first interpretation: the band delivers a very deliberate, academic reading, the recording balance favors the bongos instead of maracas, and Cooper’s solo is certainly stronger. Not a well-known title (available only on the 12” Progressive Jazz LP), the two recordings make an absorbing comparison, and this brand-new version is especially welcome.

IMPRESSIONISM is one of Rugolo’s most successful attempts to forge a new form of concert music by the bonding of jazz musicians with symphonic stylings. The mood throughout is solemn and intense, sustained by a distinguished theme around which Pete weaves one of his most profound orchestrations. Rugolo offers no concessions, makes no compromises, but intentionally maintains a token touch with jazz through rhythmic phrases and by means of a (written) duet between George Weidler and Bob Cooper. Kenton loved it, and recognized the work as one of Pete’s most skilled and cohesive compositions, and in correspondence with me Rugolo himself picked IMPRESSIONISM to exemplify the fact that Kenton gave him complete freedom to write anything he wanted. Stan told Metronome: “We don’t care if people don’t understand what we’re doing, just so long as they feel a thrill, a throb, a pulse. The musicians must play with jazz feeling, they won’t fit unless they have a common pulse. You’ve got to have that for the whole band to create a mood, and I want above all, always to create a mood through jazz. And that’s one of the things that’s so great about the stuff Pete Rugolo writes for us. It always creates a jazz mood.” (Nevertheless, Kenton knew his audiences’ limitations, and in concert IMPRESSIONISM was always sandwiched between two lighter, swinging numbers.)

June Christy is still carrying the band’s more popular-oriented material. I TOLD YA I LOVE YA, NOW GET OUT was one of the better novelty songs of the day, composed by guitarist Herb Ellis and his compatriots in the Soft Winds vocal-instrumental trio. It was taken up by several of the hipper bands, including Woody Herman on Columbia; though June makes Woody’s singing sound almost old- fashioned by comparison. HE WAS A GOOD MAN AS GOOD MEN GO is a blues, features Christy in excellent voice, and (for Rugolo) a fairly straightforward arrangement. Eddie Bert’s trombone is noteworthy for his short but effective solos on both sides.

(GG) DECEMBER 6,1947

“Rhythmically,” said Stan in 1947, “the Cubans play the most exciting stuff. We won’t copy them exactly, but we will copy some of their devices, and apply them to what we’re trying to do.” Stan was so convinced of the validity and effectiveness of incorporating Latin rhythms within the jazz orchestra, that on this session he carries bongos, conga, timbales and maracas in addition to the regular jazz rhythm of guitar, bass and drums, making a seven-man section (there is no Kenton piano on this date). CUBAN CARNIVAL, originally and more effectively titled CUBANA, displays an ingenious introduction as the rhythm instruments (led by Safranski’s bass) are introduced in turn. A deceptively placid Almeida guitar solo precedes the full force and ferocity of the fiesta as it gathers momentum, culminating with Al Porcino’s high trumpet cadenzas. Eddie Bert told me they were playing the Century Room of the Hotel Commodore in New York City when this session was cut, and one end of the room was covered by a wall-sized mirror. Each evening Porcino would gaze longingly at that untracked glass and yell: “Let’s bust that mirror tonight!” So far as I know, they never did, but if any band could have it was Kenton’s in December 1947!

The idea for THE PEANUT VENDOR came from Stan Kenton. Because Rugolo was the fount of so much writing for the band, even some of the musicians have assumed the credit was Pete’s, but Rugolo himself told me he had no connection with the piece. Stan wrote a simple riff for the saxophones and trombones, and a melody line for the trumpets, but in the main the guys themselves worked out the format. Milt Bernhart told me, “PEANUT VENDOR was a head arrangement. One night Stan handed me a lead sheet on the melody. He knew he wanted trombone to start it. Within a week we had the whole thing worked out.”

What no one could foresee was that the repetitive melody of this once innocuous little rumba in Kenton’s hands would become one of the band’s biggest hits. It took a little while, but in the fullness of time Bernhart’s pungent trombone, the energetic Latin rhythm, and above all the dynamic, high trumpet figures, played both in unison and contrapuntally, and rising to an ear-shattering crescendo, made the number one of the most requested in the book — except that nothing was ever written down! The arrangement changed dramatically over the years as each band added its personal touches, and later usually incorporated a piano solo by Senor Kenton, but the appeal of those high trumpets never waned. To this day, to the more casual fan the names Kenton and THE PEANUT VENDOR remain synonymous.

LONELY WOMAN was scored by Rugolo in August 1947 as a trombone solo, and when the band reconvened in September, it was assigned to Milt Bernhart. In November, Pete finally realized the format he had been pursuing to showcase the human voice in a contemporary styling, and restored the chart to feature June Christy, LONELY WOMAN is the least well-known of several songs arranged in abstract form for Christy at this time. (Others, not recorded by Capitol, included I’LL REMEMBER APRIL, ALL THE THINGS YOU ARE and OVER THE RAINBOW from THE KENTON ERA). In this orchestration of the Benny Carter song, the tune is implied rather than explicitly stated; there is never a steady, rhythmic beat; and the arrangement is full of modern dissonance and harmonies. Rugolo’s skill has created a flawless back- ground for Christy, whom one senses, relishes the challenge of this complex chart. She sings with a warm maturity and a deeper tone than hitherto suspected, as she “bends” notes and breaks up syllables with total control. Her distinguished phrasing and timbre are exactly right for the Kenton band, a perfect partnership of orchestra, arranger and singer that makes LONELY WOMAN a unique experience and a wholly successful musical statement. The pity is, the styling was too strong ever to be fully accepted. After 1948, Kenton dropped the concept altogether, so that it remains isolated, a fragment in time. The only other band I can think of with which it might be artistically compared is Boyd Raeburn’s, and the distinctive scores created by George Handy for Ginnie Powell and David Allyn.

In 1947 Bob Graettinger was an alto saxophone player of no special renown who determined to concentrate on writing music instead of playing it. Although they didn’t know each other, Bob greatly admired the progressive music the Stan Kenton band was laying down, and wrote specifically with Kenton in mind. He titled his first piece THERMOPYLAE and mailed it to the leader. Stan told me, “I first met Bob through Ray Wetzel, who brought him to see me one day. Ray had known him in Bobby Sherwood’s band when Graettinger was playing alto saxophone. We played and then recorded this thing Bob had sent me called THERMOPYLAE, and I fell in love with it. After that we brought Graettinger into the band as an arranger, but he only stayed with us about a year at that time, and then he left to study.” Graettinger did contribute a number of arrangements on standards that were never recorded.

An error of one letter at Capitol has caused the wrong spelling THERMOPOLAE to Stick ever since. While no carbon copy of anyone else’s writing, the piece does bear certain similarities to other examples of “progressive jazz,” in its complete absence of a jazz beat, and its use of dance-band instrumentation in quasi-classical form. The work is bereft of solos, or even relief from the repetitive theme which finds lead alto player George Weidler working overtime to raise his section above the clashing panoply of brass fan- fares. There is no relief, no light and shade, no release from the overriding tension, and it was probably this very defiance of accepted norms that Stan found so appealing.

In 1947, Bob had yet to reject working with imagery in favor of the totally abstract, and his original spelling THERMOPYLAE refers to a narrow mountain pass connecting Greece and Thessaly. In 480 BC, it was the site of a famous battle when 300 Spartans defended the pass against the entire Persian army, thus allowing their Greek allies to escape and eventually defeat the Persians. All the Spartans were killed, but are remembered as heroes in Greek story and song. To my knowledge, no one ever checked the meaning of the title with Graettinger, but the mood of the piece is too stately and ceremonious to represent the tumult of battle. The impression created is more accurately that of a procession, though hardly a joyous one, and is seemingly a musical salute to the heroes, the mood bleak and somber because all sacrificed their lives in defense of their country. Nearly 50 years later, THERMOPOLAE remains an invigorating and exploratory piece of writing: a harbinger of the many experimental scores Graettinger the iconoclast would write for Kenton in the few remaining years of his life, before cancer struck at the age of 33.

(HH) DECEMBER 21,1947

Before it ceased publication. Metronome was America’s highly respected monthly jazz magazine, which often brought together its annual poll winners to record under the name of the Metronome All-Stars. The major companies took turns making the recordings, and the labels to which musicians were contracted cooperated because royalties went to charity. In 1947 Capitol did the honors, and for the first time the top jazz band played on the date — Stan Kenton. Pete Rugolo [Metronome’s “Arranger of the Year”) restored a tune called PETE’S RIFF that the orchestra had been playing on dates, retitled it METRONOME RIFF and directed the musicians. The playing is wonderfully precise, and all the soloists perform with distinction on a very up- beat side. Clarinet was not an instrument Stan cared for, but Buddy DeFranco’s facile solo is perhaps the best of an excellent bunch.

This is the Kenton-preferred version of INTRODUCTION TO A LATIN RHYTHM. The opening brass fanfares precede contemplative piano figures, which soon dissolve into Stan’s muted solo reflections on the attractively lilting theme. Introduction over, the arrival of Latin percussion heralds a wild rhythmic ride, with abrasive solos by Cooper’s tenor and Bert’s trombone, and dexterous writing for the orchestra capped by brilliant passages of trumpet dissonance. The musical notes are Rugolo’s, but the spirit is Kenton’s. In Pete’s words, “Stan provides the inspiration and enthusiasm which somehow makes your imagination more fertile. He seems to have a genius for making people want to put forth their finest efforts. When you work with Stan, you always want to do your very best.” At this stage of their careers, apart Kenton and Rugolo were incomplete; together, they made an ideal team.

JOURNEY TO BRAZIL is a thrilling representation of the expedition, opening with all the excitement and enthusiasm that such a trip might generate. One can just picture Stan, dominating center stage, arms outstretched, waiting expectantly to bring the entire orchestra crashing in on cue! Two compelling themes are played in counterpoint by sections of the band, until the pace relaxes for a reflective solo statement from Almeida’s soulful guitar. The journey continues with a barrage of sound from the Latin rhythm, and exciting solo duets from trombones, saxophones and trumpets, after which the orchestra builds to a dramatic conclusion. Stan loved to hear the band play fortissimo; night after night it recharged his batteries, and thrilled the fans, as he told Down Beat in 1947: “I like to feel that the band isn’t influenced by anybody or anything, except per- haps sound. The world needs stronger music. Some of the wise boys who say my music is loud, blatant and that’s all, should see the faces of the fans who crowd in front of the stand in an ecstasy all their own.”

Neal Hefti was shown as arranger of HOW HIGH THE MOON on the original 78 rpm label (Cap 15117), and Hefti confirmed this with me in writing. However, Clinton Roemer’s copy file names Pete Rugolo, and Rugolo told me he adapted for the big band a small-combo arrangement Hefti had written for June during her solo stint earlier in the year while the band was resting. “I think a joint credit would be proper,” says Pete. The beboppers’ anthem became associated with June for the rest of her career. This recording swings mightily from start to finish, and finds time in its two-and-a-half minutes for June to sing and bop the lyrics, as well as two boppish solos from Eddie Bert and Chico Alvarez (egged on by Shelly Manne’s drums), and a beautifully-phrased cool classic from Art Pepper that owes more to Young than to Parker.

Christy had married Bob Cooper the previous January, and Coop had a great influence on June’s career. As well as playing a fine tenor saxophone. Bob was a talented com- poser/arranger, and could help June (a non-reader) with the more intricate scores a concert-minded Kenton was intent on introducing into the band. Audree (Coke) Kenton saw it happen. “June and Bob were nice people together, and Bob was a great help to her. Most of the things that sounded so improvised with June were ideas that Bob had worked out for her. He always coached June, and the things that sounded so spontaneous when June did them were quite often things that Bob had taught her. Coop deserves more credit than he got — he was always there in the background.”

(II) DECEMBER 22, 1947

HARLEM HOUDAY WHS usually titled A MESSAGE TO HARLEM in 1948 concert programs, but either way it’s a revamped version of Stan’s HARLEM FOLK DANCE, dressed up with a brighter tempo and a much more modern delivery than the staccato beat of the original. It’s really an outing for the band’s soloists to come on strong, and a salutary reminder that Stan never lost sight of swinging jazz while experimenting with the avant-garde.

THIS IS MY THEME is exceptional even by Kenton’s standards. Stan’s intention was to project a jazz emotion via the spoken word, and the surrealistic poem by Audrey Lacey is intended to convey feelings and moods rather than tell a story. Rugolo fashioned an appropriately abstract orchestral accompaniment, but the whole concept frightened Christy, who felt the piece called for an actress rather than a pop/jazz singer. She agreed to attempt the recording on the understanding she would not have to perform the title in concert. June starts the narration calmly, as Pete effectively employs rhythm instruments and brass punctuations to emphasize the ambiance. Both voice and accompaniment generate a sensation of tension and despair, that rises to a shattering climax, then symmetrically softens to a subdued conclusion. The poem possesses a macabre beauty, and June recites with great sensitivity. THIS IS MY THEME is an absorbing experiment, a complex fusion of words and sounds, that preceded the 1950’s vogue for jazz and poetry by a number of years. (Stan kept his promise, and the number never was performed in public!)

BONGO RIFF is Jack Costanzo’s solo outing, and it’s a fast-tempoed, exciting adventure. Jack had been playing with Enric Madriguera and as he told Metronome, “When I joined Kenton I didn’t know for sure what Stan wanted. I’d never played with a band like that before. I didn’t even read.” (A situation corrected by “teachers” Manne and Safranski during the coming year.) Although he was hired to play only on the Latin numbers, it soon became clear during rehearsals that Costanzo could play a unique role as an integral member of the rhythm section on all the scores, adding rhythmic nuances, filling breaks and accenting the music. No other jazz band before or since has ever used the sharp, crisp bongo sound in the “melodic” manner of the “progressive jazz” orchestra. Even Kenton in the future would employ the deeper, lower-pitched conga drums, in general simply as an additional rhythmic impetus. Costanzo’s distinctive percussion adds immeasurably to the tone colors of all these Rugolo charts, from LAMENT to ABSTRACTION and even on IMPRESSIONISM. Some commentators find the bongos intrusive. In my view Costanzo plays a crucial role in the music of “progressive jazz” with the vibrant sounds created by his nimble fingers.

During the forties. Ken Hanna was a talented but eclectic writer, who contributed the occasional chart in that year’s fashionable style. (His most consistent work for Kenton was still three decades in the future.) In SOMNAMBULISM, Hanna uses all of Rugolo’s techniques, and does it so damn well you couldn’t tell the difference. Ken’s melancholy theme is embellished by an impressive arrangement, which uses the brass as a rhythmic device, Weidler’s crying alto, and some mournful Bernhart trombone. The composer has complete mastery of the orchestra in a subtle, skillfully- developed work. But it’s still a pertinent truth that without Rugolo’s innovations, Hanna could never have written SOMNAMBULISM. And like Rugolo’s MONOTONY, Hanna deserves credit for his daring use of a title that positively invites cynicism!

Previously recorded earlier in the year (March 31, 1947), INTERLUDE is a complete melody (rather than a theme), and was indeed later turned into a song with lyrics by Bob Russell and recorded by June Christy, as well as on Stan’s own KENTON WITH VOICES LP. Rugolo said he wrote the piece in response to requests for something quieter from the band, and INTERLUDE features Stan’s piano backed by the choral sound of the Kenton trombones. According to lead man Milt Bernhart, the sound of the section was achieved because Pete spread out the voicings in his writing so there was a large distance between the top and bottom bones, and the men played with very little vibrato: a symphonic styling originated under Kai Winding and continued by all succeeding Kenton trombone choirs. Rugolo’s tone poem contains tricky bass figures during the introduction, and some trombone dissonance, but is essentially a tranquil setting for Stan’s romantic piano playing; a personal, intimate style which will develop as an indispensable ingredient of all future Kenton orchestras.

The second American Federation of Musicians recording ban prevented further Capitol recordings by this most influential of orchestras, reportedly throughout much of 1948 the highest grossing band in the business. Stan dis- banded on December 14, 1948, exhausted by the relentless grind of the road, an endless succession of one night stands essential in order to play the music he so fervently loved and believed in. Ironically, this date was almost simultaneous with the resumption of recording, but it came too late for Kenton, and we are denied the opportunity to enjoy the compositions written during 1948 by chief arranger Pete Rugolo, and the increasingly significant Bob Graettinger. There are many titles known (and doubtless others yet unknown) from this period which could never be studio- recorded. Some turn up occasionally in inferior sound quality on unauthorized issues from broadcasts and transcriptions, but many seem lost forever. We should be grateful to Capitol for recording as much of the contentious Kenton music from the 1940s as they did. After the ban, Kenton went into a self-imposed retirement until 1950, when he introduced his “Innovations” period with an expanded orchestra that included a full string section. But that is another, very different chapter.

Michael Sparke
July 1995