RECORDING OF THE MONTH
Gershwin by Grofé: Symphonic Jazz
George GERSHWIN (1898-1937)
“I Got Rhythm,” Variations for Piano and Orchestra (1934) [8:29]
The Yankee Doodle Blues (1922) [3:15]
The Yankee Doodle Blues (acoustic recording on a 1909 Edison Fireside phonograph)
[3:16]
That Certain Feeling (1925) [2:36]
Somebody Loves Me (1924) [2:47]
Sweet and Low-down (1925) [2:47]
I’ll Build a Stairway to Paradise (1922) [3:24]
The Man I Love (1924/1938 - first recording of 1938 version) [5:28]
Fascinating Rhythm (1924) [3:08]
Summertime (1935) [4:05]
Rhapsody in Blue (1924) [15:31]
Lincoln Mayorga (piano), Al Gallodoro (clarinet/bass clarinet/alto saxophone)
Harmonie Ensemble/Steven Richman
rec. 2004-2007, Performing Arts Center, Purchase College, State University
of New York, USA
HARMONIA MUNDI HMU 907492 [54:40]
Harmonia Mundi released this CD in April and has been a part of my collection
since June. It has been my favorite Gershwin album since I heard the first
five minutes. A procession of miracles, the dull title of the disc (Gershwin
by Grofé: Original Orchestrations and Arrangements) is the only
thing about the album that isn’t direct from the heavens.
How do I love Gershwin by Grofé? Let me count the ways. First,
this recording uses a jazz band. You will no doubt have heard the “Rhapsody
in Blue” performed in its “original jazz band orchestration”
by several symphony orchestras. James Levine recorded that version brilliantly
with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra; in January I saw Kirill Gerstein and
Hans Graf jam to the jazz orchestration in Houston, Texas. Conductors as diverse
as Graf, Levine and Simon Rattle have championed the original version.
This CD does not contain that original version, in the sense that it is not
played by the full brass and wind complements of an orchestra accompanied
by eight violinists and a drummer, and recorded onstage in a spacious classical
concert venue. This CD is played by an actual jazz band.
At my former home in south-central Texas I had actually been lucky to live
an hour away from one of the most exciting old-fashioned jazz clubs in the
United States. Jim Cullum’s Landing, on the San Antonio Riverwalk, was
home to Jim Cullum’s band, an old-school ensemble dedicated to reviving
regional tunes and styles of the 1920s and early 1930s. They championed the
style of jazz which emerged in New Orleans after the Great War and, in the
twenties, exploded across the United States. The main theme is stated a few
times and then passed along between instruments, like a baton, as every player
gets his turn to improvise a few licks. Jim Cullum’s ensemble is one
each of trumpet (cornet), trombone, clarinet, piano, banjo (doubling on guitar),
double bass, and drum set; this was fairly standard, though depending of the
talents of the bandleader, one of the first three instruments might be replaced
by a saxophone.
The attitude of the performers in a setting like this is one of pure fun.
When I visited the Landing, a shoebox of a place with the band sandwiched
into the corner, the players were having as good a time as I was. When it
was time for them to take a break, Jim Cullum would grab the microphone and
explain, “Besides playing in the band, we also do quality control tests
at the bar.” This was not a joke. My friend once counted five glasses
of white wine onstage during a set; at my last visit, Cullum’s drinking
made his cornet playing into, shall we say, something rather distinctive.
The Harmonie Ensemble is a group much like this. I doubt they were drinking
in the studio but they comprise basically the same instruments (with saxophones
throughout and some extra players in the Rhapsody), and they are all having
enormous fun playing this music. I can imagine the Harmonie Ensemble up on
the stage at a club, grinning at the patrons, listening to each other’s
solos with smiling appreciation, bobbing their heads in time with the music.
The heart of this program, in fact all of it but two tracks, is joyful ditties
from the George and Ira songbook, arranged for jazz band by Ferde Grofé,
the in-house orchestrator for the Paul Whiteman Orchestra. Each song is delivered
with exuberant enthusiasm.
Should I mention particular delights? There are too many! Take the delicious
trombone solos in “Yankee Doodle Blues” and “Somebody Loves
Me,” the dialogue between muted trumpets and so-sweet clarinets in “That
Certain Feeling,” the superb saxophone work which gets “Sweet
and Low-down” rolling, the guitar serenade in “The Man I Love,”
or the brilliant trumpet solo in “I’ll Build a Stairway to Paradise”
and the jazzy chaos which breaks out when it’s over. The Harmonie Ensemble
brilliantly incorporates a couple of violins into the ensemble throughout,
so they do not sound out of place in “Rhapsody in Blue,” but they
genuinely add to the fun (as does an oboe in “Sweet and Low-down”
and “The Man I Love”). And if you have ever heard the jazz band
orchestration of “Rhapsody in Blue” and wondered why, four minutes
in, a banjo is audible for three or four bars, this recording will answer
your question: it is here the whole time!
The second reason this album is special is that “Yankee Doodle Blues”
is presented twice. The second time around, just for fun (as if another reason
is needed!), the take is recorded on a 1909 Edison Fireside phonograph. It’s
(almost) the same performance, but this time it really sounds like something
from a silent movie. And the added bonus is that when the modern recorded
sound returns, you realize just how brilliant the engineering is. This album
sounds terrific.
The third reason this album is special, alluded to above, is that this is
not your typical Gershwin compilation. Forget the famous stuff - you get the
“Rhapsody in Blue,” tacked onto the end of the program like a
glorious afterthought, and you get the “I Got Rhythm” Variations
for an opener, but everything in between is from the George and Ira songbook.
There is a premiere recording (“The Man I Love”), the utterly
divine “I’ll Build a Stairway to Paradise,” “Somebody
Loves Me” with its swooning violins, and that witty “Yankee Doodle
Blues.” This is Gershwin at his best, his most intimate, on his home
territory.
The fourth reason this album is special is the contribution of Al Gallodoro.
Gallodoro, who alternates here between clarinet and alto saxophone, joined
the Paul Whiteman Orchestra - the same band for which “Rhapsody in Blue”
was composed - way back in 1936. He also served as bass clarinetist in the
NBC Symphony Orchestra under Arturo Toscanini in the 1940s. Gallodoro performed
in routines for Bob Hope and Milton Berle, and according to his personal website,
specialized in “the Rhapsody in Blue for which he holds the distinction
of having performed the clarinet slide over 10,000 times with the Paul Whiteman
Orchestra!”
Al Gallodoro made these recordings when he was 93 years old, two years before
his death in 2008. Age did not slow him down. There he is taking a star turn
in “Fascinating Rhythm” (on which he plays alto saxophone, bass
clarinet, and clarinet, in that order) and contributing dazzling, soulful
saxophone playing to “Summertime,” here a duet between Gallodoro
and pianist Lincoln Mayorga. The clarinet slide at the opening of “Rhapsody”
is dubbed from an earlier performance (1938, with the Paul Whiteman Orchestra,
in Carnegie Hall!), but the rest of the solo is new, and its playfulness is
utterly unlike any other. Listening to the inventive, emotive improvisations
in “Summertime,” I remember Jimmy Dorsey’s claim that Gallodoro
was the greatest saxophonist who ever lived.
Having now briefly mentioned the pianist, Lincoln Mayorga, I should at last
note that he makes a glorious Gershwin player in “I Got Rhythm”
and the “Rhapsody in Blue,” and a sensitive, elegant accompanist
in “Summertime.” He makes for an intelligent member of the band
in the other songs - listen for his light touch in “Somebody Loves Me.”
There are no mannerisms, no fiddling, none of the faux-edginess of classical
pianists who think they are being jazzy by noodling and acting unpredictable.
There is just solid, golden-toned pianism, cheery playfulness, and a generous
spirit at one with the music. This is not the showboating of a concert hall
pianist like Earl Wild (though I love Wild); this is piano playing like you’d
hear in a jazz club, with a backing band in which you can hear the bassist
sawing away and the banjo strumming along to the “big tune” near
the end of “Rhapsody.” Never have this many details of the orchestration
been audible. And never, ever, has this music sounded so ecstatically like
the fusion of two glorious sound-worlds into one new triumphant style.
There is a fifth reason this album is special. It is one of that tiny handful
of records which actually makes life seem sunnier, which actually makes me
a happier person. I put it on and I want to dance around the room. I heard
it for the first time on headphones and the very next night made my family
listen too.
But don’t just take my word for it. Read the equally ecstatic review
by my colleague John
Quinn. Or ponder this: while I was editing this review, a neighbor knocked
on my door and said (verbatim), “What are you listening to? I love this
music! I am going to spend more time standing in the corridor in front of
your door so I can hear it!”
The cover of Gershwin by Grofé is a photo of the Paul Whiteman
Orchestra, with George Gershwin himself seated at the piano, smiling up at
the camera. I suspect - no, I guarantee - that by the end of this album,
you will be smiling back.
Brian Reinhart
Even my neighbors agree: it’s the recording of the year!