Prince Edward County Jazz Festival

you think jazz has lost a beat?

1/13/2023

The Case for the County Jazz Festival

The twenty-two-year record of the Prince Edward County Jazz Festival is an astonishing artistic and economic success story.

Over more than two decades, this “little” festival has attracted nearly 100,000 fans to about 1,000 performances in more than 50 venues from one end of Prince Edward County to the other. Those shows, by the way, presented multiple Grammy and Juno winners in each of those years, in addition to other internationally-acclaimed artists and well-known local entertainers. All of that in a rural setting untethered to any major urban centre? Unheard of.

Add in the spin-off business all that action has brought in for hotels and motels, BnBs, restaurants, wineries, craft breweries, and so on.   We conservatively estimate the festival has injected 7.5-million dollars into Prince Edward County’s economy. And don’t forget how annual big-city advertising for all of it has helped to put “The “County,” and its entire arts community, on the map.

Unlike most major arts festivals in Canada today, there’s been no cost to taxpayers. No government grants. It’s all paid for because of a loyal team of volunteers raising all the required money from a dedicated base of generous donors.

THAT is the story of the Prince Edward County Jazz Festival.
And yet, casual critics sometimes dismiss jazz as a spent force, the music of Grandma and Grandpa whose best days are long gone.

Consider “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” presented by the festival for the second consecutive year on December 11th, 2022. People under 40, many of them with kids, were by far in the majority. Or the sold-out Big Smoke Brass show at Huff Estates Winery in August 2022, when a young and funky “street” band injected an adrenaline rocket into the melting pot that drives jazz forward. Or how about Brian Barlow’s Big Band, a perennial festival favourite, that is now as young and diverse as any in the business, and which has had no problem selling out Picton’s Regent Theatre year after year?

Casual observers probably aren’t aware that for each of the last dozen years, the PECJF has laid on the finest three-day education program in Canada for more than 800 high school jazz musicians. Nor would they know that many of the sixteen winners of the festival’s unique “Rising Young Star” award, some of them “local,” have established careers of their own, and have enthusiastically returned to play on the County Jazz Festival stage as professionals in their own right.

Jazz attracts new fans as it morphs and grows.   Mark Twain’s famous “deathbed” revelation is a good fit: “Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.”

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IMPOSSIBLY INSTRUMENTAL

7/30/2022

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Jack Zaza 1930 - 2022

He played nine different instruments on a Gordon Lightfoot album, mandolin for an Anne Murray recording, sax for the Spitfire Band and the Guess Who, clarinet for Bruce Cockburn, oboe for Hagood Hardy, and at least eleven different instruments on six albums recorded by John McDermott – the list goes on…Sharon Lois & Bram, Ronnie Prophet, George Hamilton IV, commercials, films, TV shows…

“I never knew anyone who gushed music as openly as Jack Zaza did.” Jim Morgan

Jack Zaza, who died in June 2022 at the age of 91, was the undisputed king of Canadian studio musicians in his day. And everyone you talk to - fellow musicians, friends, family, people he barely knew - speak of him with a love and admiration reserved only for the finest among us.
According to allmusic.com, Zaza played a total of no fewer than twenty different instruments (closer to thirty according to some who knew him well) on hundreds of albums, many of them with major artists. He was among the first Toronto musicians to use the then-new Fender electric bass in recording studios. And he was very good. He played bass on the original Hockey Night in Canada theme, and was on violin AND electric bass in the 1969 Toronto production of Hair. When he retired, he sold that Fender bass to David Piltch, who never changed a thing - not even the original strings. He's still playing it that way. More about that later.

Zaza can be heard on EIGHT Gordon Lightfoot albums. On one of them, Endless Wire, he plays nine instruments (alto sax, tenor sax, baritone sax, bass clarinet, English horn, alto flute, harmonica, harmonium, shakers). Nine instruments! And that doesn’t include a couple on which he was at a virtuoso level, according to some he worked with - the mandolin and mandocello. That was saved for Anne Murray’s I’ll Always Love You album, among many others.

Before I count them up, understand that Jack Zaza played jazz bouzouki, for God’s sake. He had pennywhistles IN EVERY KEY. You try counting the number of instruments a musician like that can play. But here’s my list. Additions coming later, I’m sure. (Oh, and by the way, he played them all well enough to be on recordings with all of them!

Thirty instruments played by Jack Zaza

bass guitar - guitar - alto sax - tenor sax - soprano sax - baritone sax - clarinet - alto clarinet bass clarinet - oboe - English horn - flute - piccolo - alto flute - mandolin - mandocello bouzouki - violin - pennywhistle - spoons - shakers - harmonica - bass harmonica harmonium - accordion - jaw harp - ukulele - banjo - recorder
He played piano too, but I’ve found nothing about him playing it professionally. Yet.

According to drummer Brian Barlow, who was a recording companion for many years, Zaza was so busy in the studios that contractors would hire him for recording sessions even before they knew what instruments would be required. They knew he’d get hired elsewhere if they didn’t move quickly, and besides, he could play just about any instrument that might be needed.
Jack’s son Paul says his dad was probably the first studio electric bass player who could read music. Typically, the only bass players who could read would be the symphony musicians who played the big stand-up bass.
“Dad was unique in that he could read anything put in front of him. That was the springboard that led to a lot of other things - he did all the studio stuff in those days.”

There are a million stories.

Paul Zaza: Hair (1969 musical), the oboe, and Lightfoot

“The biggest problem they had was that the Royal Alexandra Theatre was old, and the acoustics weren’t the greatest, and the pit band was on stage. The audience could actually see the band on the stage for the whole show. So, the sound was uncontrollable.”

“The show started with the song Aquarius, which had a bass solo introduction. The problem was, the original bass player they hired, who was NOT my father, played the bass with his fingers, which was the way most bass players played. They didn’t use a pick. Well, the sound was really low and muddy, it was swimming around the theatre, and the actor who took his cue from that bass solo complained that he couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear the key or the tempo. So, every time they rehearsed, the actor would be in the wrong key and tempo."

“Nobody could figure it out, so they fired the bass player.   They bring in another guy. Same thing happened. They fired him, too. They get a third one in. Same thing. Fired.”
“So they’re going down the list and they get to my father’s name. The producer from New York says, ‘OK, we’ll try once more, and if this doesn’t work, we’re gonna bring in our own guy from New York, because he made it work.’ You have to realize that the guy from New York wouldn’t have had any better luck, because this was an ACOUSTIC problem. The band’s ON the stage, and the acoustics aren’t great to begin with.”

“So, my father went in, and he wasn’t into acoustics, but he had good ears. He plugs in, and after hearing the actor say again that he hasn’t been able to pick up on his cue, says ‘let me try something. I think I know what’s wrong.’

“He put a lot of treble on his amp, a lot of top-end, and he played with a pick, because he was a mandolin player. They tried it, and it was beautiful. Four bars in, and the singer comes in perfectly - ’When the moon is in the seventh house…..’ The producer jumps in and yells ‘hire that guy!’ My dad says ‘wait a minute - you want me to do the show? I’m really busy with studio work, and TV shows.’ The producer comes back with, ‘what do you want? We’ll pay you anything you want.’"

“Dad says, ‘well, how about double-scale? ‘OK. Deal.’"
But the deal wasn’t final. There was one brief scene in Hair that required about 30 seconds of violin.
‘You don’t happen to play the violin, do you?’
JZ: ‘Yes, I do actually, I was trained on the violin.’
‘Could you bring your violin tomorrow?’
JZ: ‘Yeah, I’ll bring it. So let me get this straight. You want me to play bass AND violin?’
‘Yes.’
JZ: ‘OK - remember the thing about the double-scale? Now we’re gonna have that, PLUS I’m gonna want a 50% double for playing the violin.'
“ ‘But it’s only for 30 seconds.' So Dad says, ‘OK, get somebody else.’"

Now the deal was done. Maybe not.

“Now my father was not a stupid man. He says, ‘you know what’s gonna happen - they’re gonna fire me later, and then they’ll hire another bass player who they can pay less.’ I think they’d already cut the violin part, because it really wasn’t a big part of the show.” So my dad had it put into the contract, that he, or substitute players of his choosing, would be the only bass players in Hair as long as the show played in Toronto. They hemmed and hawed, and he said, ‘fine, get somebody else,’ and finally they said, ‘fine, whatever you want, just show up tomorrow night.’

“And I ended up subbing a lot for my dad on bass. He couldn’t possibly do eight shows a week because he was so busy with other projects, and Hair ran a year-and-a-half in Toronto.”
“He made a lot of money doubling. And in the long-run, it was a lot cheaper than hiring one player for every instrument. Because he played sometimes five or six or even nine or ten instruments, he’d walk out of the studio sometimes with three or four times what other great musicians who doubled on two or three would make.”

“The oboe made him crazy.”

“The oboe gave him the most headaches, and it challenged him beyond anything that he’d ever done in his life. He couldn’t get it mastered to the point where he felt he was as good on that as he was on the mandolin or flute or sax. He’d drive to Rochester and back in a day many times for lessons at the Eastman School of Music. He couldn’t figure that instrument out on his own – how tomake the reeds, where to buy the cane, how to wrap the cane, practise, practise, practise, all this stuff….”

“Even in his 90s, after he’d sold all his instruments, and the only thing he was doing was taking care of my mother, he’d sneak downstairs while she was asleep during the day and make reeds for an oboe he didn’t have. It was his passion.”

“I was at the house not long after he died, and I went downstairs - you can imagine, it was kind of emotional…looking around, I’m seeing all these knives, and oboe reeds, all laid out on his desk, and he had this magnifying glass he put on his head so he could see all the fine detail in the reeds, and it was all perfectly laid out. What he was gonna do with them, I have no idea. He was just totally obsessed with the oboe.”

Gordon Lightfoot: "Could I sing a few songs?"

A then-unknown Gordon Lightfoot played drums under a pseudonym in Jack’s trio at the Orchard Park Tavern. Recounting the story told by his dad, Paul says Lightfoot told Jack he was also a guitar player, and would he mind if he tested out a couple of songs he’d written on the audience while the rest of the trio took a break? Jack gave him the green light.

“So the rest is history. He started singing his songs, and the audience is getting into it. It was very clear this guy could write a song. His songs were captivating.”
Soon, Lightfoot told Jack he’d have to quit and find someone else for the trio - he was getting offers and he had a record deal in the works. And he asked Jack another question. For the ages, as it turned out: “Do you know the name of a good accountant?”

“This guitar is my cherished possession.” - David Piltch

As of this writing on July 26, 2022, Toronto-born bassist David Piltch is the proud owner of Jack Zaza’s original Fender bass guitar, which Zaza played in Hair, and for the Hockey Night in Canada theme.

“I have the bass in my hands right now. I’m on a session right now in Los Angeles. I’ve been playing it since I bought it. I’ve used it for many, many recordings. It’s the apple of many people’s eye, they look at this bass, and you know, it’s gorgeous. It’s completely intact – it has the same strings that he had on it. I’ve never changed them. It sounds beautiful – it’s just gorgeous history. And I got it from Jack.”

“I was in a session with Jack. I was on bass, and he was on one of the woodwinds. And he said to me, ‘when it’s time for this bass to be passed on, I’d like you to have it.’
“I knew Jack as a child. I used to go to work with my father (Bernie Piltch, who was the music director for Hair) and Jack would be playing everything. My dad and Jack worked a lot together.

“Years after Jack had kind of affectionately told me in that studio that he wanted me to have it, I had heard through the grapevine that somebody was going to buy it. When I heard that, I called up Jack, and I said ‘let me buy it. He said c’mon over to his house. I’d never been there.”
“I went over to get the bass, and he had this huge spread for me. All this food. And food. And more food. I’d never socialized with him, although I’d done gigs with him. One of the great gigs I did with him was one where he was playing jazz bouzouki. I mean, who plays jazz bouzouki? Jack did! Anyway, I wrote him a cheque for the bass and took it with me.”

“A wacky, funny, wonderful man!” - Jim Morgan

Musician and studio producer Jim Morgan worked off and on with Jack Zaza for forty years. “I never met anybody who gushed music as openly as Jack Zaza. Such a wonderful spirit. Everybody was lifted by his presence. He was such a giving guy. Anything that Jack added to a piece of music was magical.”

“Jack booked me in his band to play with the Monkees on tour in 1969. The Monkees didn’t really play themselves, and so Jack played every instrument imaginable. I’d say Jack, have you ever played this or that instrument, and he’d say, ‘just give me 15 minutes.’ He’d disappear for 15 minutes with whatever instrument it was, and come back playing it like he’d played it all his life!”

“When I was a young fella working in the studios, I wasn’t a great sight reader of music. If I was sitting next to him during the session, he’d notice if I was having a problem. While he’s playing his own part, he’d quietly lean over and sing me the rhythm. And he did the same thing for all of the musicians around him. He'd come to sessions with whole bags of instruments. Contractors would tell him to just bring everything. If there wasn’t a part for him, he’d make something up on something that always added something fabulous to whatever the music was. He was so creative.”

“He sat down and refused to play.” - Roberto Occhipinti

Award-winning bassist, composer, and producer Roberto Occhipinti says Zaza not only played all those different instruments – he played them very well.

“It was different a generation of musicians. It’s a lost art. Whatever instrument he played - you couldn’t tell what his number one instrument was, because they all sounded like they’re supposed to. Take the oboe. There were some really good orchestral players then…but he played so well that you really couldn’t tell who was who just by listening to them. There are musicians who play three, four, and five instruments, but not nineteen, or whatever it is.”

“One of the first shows I ever played was Chorus Line. Peter Appleyard was the contractor. The conductor of the show was a very bitter man. These shows would come from New York, and they’d bring their own conductor and drummer. It was like they had to show these guys in Canada how it was done. Now most of the horn players were from the Boss Brass or Phil Nimmons’ band. They were all very, very good and experienced players. I was the youngest.”

“We get to the first rehearsal and the conductor was antagonistic right from the get-go. One of the trumpet players, I think it was Sam Noto, said ‘do you want us to follow you or the drummer?’ First shot across the bow, you know.”

“ ‘What are you talking about,’ the conductor said, ‘the drummer’s following me. You follow me!’ “

There was another festering problem.

“During rehearsals, the mics were live. The “pit” was covered, so the musicians couldn't be seen. But they could be heard. The conductor heard what he thought were musicians talking too loudly. He yells ‘stop talking!’ “

But according to musicians and others who were there, it was actually a technical problem with the sound that was making him think the musicians were talking. They weren’t.
Fast forward to the dress rehearsal the night before the show opens. There is a partial audience. Again, the conductor thinks he hears talking. His frustration boiling over, he yells again, ‘no talking!”

Occhipinti: “So here we are in the dress rehearsal, there’s an audience out there, and one of the brass players leans into a mic and says, ‘Why don’t you fuck off?’
“The conductor says – ‘who said that?’ I’m paying you to play and not talk.’ So then Jack, because this guy had been browbeating us all week, stood up, looked at the conductor, and said ‘why don’t you fuck off with that bullshit, you asshole.’

“Jaws dropped, of course, because Jack was a pretty even-tempered guy. But then he sat down in his chair and refused to play. Then there’s a five-minute lull, and we’re trying to figure out what to do. We go upstairs and we read the riot act to Peter Appleyard. We tell him this conductor’s gotta stop hounding us or we’re not gonna play tomorrow night. We quit.”

“So we’re in the show the next night, we get through it, and the guy stops hassling the musicians. That was Jack standing up for us. He was just a really great guy. He was all business, great sense of humour, a total professional.”

"I’m not sure I’d’ve lasted in the studios without Jack Zaza.” - Barry Keane
(session drummer well-known for his work with Gordon Lightfoot and Anne Murray)

“I had very little musical knowledge when I got into the studio scene…I couldn’t read music to save my life. There was more than one occasion when Jack was there to bail me out. A couple of times he was the only reason I made it through a session. Probably a huge reason why I got hired again.”

“Way back early in my career, I somehow got booked to play for a CBC Radio series that was based on music from around the world. Well, my knowledge of music from around the world was limited to whatever pop music I heard on a transistor radio or a car radio, so I was immediately in way over my head."

“The first track we played was a Greek ditty that was way up tempo, and it was in 9/8 time. I was in so far over my head I was embarrassed, it was so awkward – I had no idea what to do. And after the first take, the arranger and most of the other musicians were looking at me like, ‘what the hell are you doing?”

“During my angst of trying to figure out what to play, I did notice, sitting right outside the drum booth, was Jack Zaza, who was playing a bouzouki part. And he was stumbling and fumbling, making mistakes galore, and during the whole time he was smiling and having the best time of his life.”

“And Jack recognized what trouble I was having - he put the bouzouki down, came into the drum booth, tapped out a drum part that I could actually hear and could play. He saved my butt on that. I was then able to make sense out of the music and play something.”

“But here was a man who was having difficulty enough with his own part, and rather than spend the next few minutes before the next take trying to figure out what HE was going to do, he took the time to come in and help a struggling drummer get through the session. Talk about kind and considerate. The other thing that stands out - here he was, stumbling over his own music, but even so, he had the biggest smile on his face, and he was laughing over the challenge he had in front of him playing that bouzouki part.”

“I can remember another time we were doing an album with a major Canadian country music star. I wasn’t all that familiar with country music, although the rest of the guys were a lot more up on the stuff. Anyway, we got to a tune that everybody else seemed to know, and it just sort of fell together because everybody knew it. So I jumped in, just playing what I felt.”

“As it turned out, the major riff in this tune was falling in a different place in the bar than where I was hearing it. So somehow, I was managing to turn this simple country tune into a bizarre polka, I guess…a few bars in, the singer threw up his hands and said, ‘what is going on?’ So everybody looked at me because they knew I was the problem.”

“I looked over at Jack, because he was playing bass on the session, and he was laughing his butt off. He knew what was wrong. Jack put the bass down and came into the drum booth. He says, ‘do you know what the problem is? I said no. He said ‘the problem is you have too much “feel.” The problem isn’t you, it’s the way it’s written.’ And then he hummed the riff to me so it made sense to me. He was able to come to a young musician and fix the problem, make me feel good, and actually fill me with confidence.”

“Most of us accept challenges. He SOUGHT challenges. He learned new instruments all the time, and he had the best time when he was confronted with difficult music on instruments he barely knew how to play. He’d go learn how to play them. He did everything with such joy."

“Such a fun memory.” - Howard Baer

Howard Baer (arranger, producer, conductor, Juno winner) was another decades-long Zaza partner in many recording studios.

“Everybody knew him; everybody loved him. He always brought extra instruments to a recording session, because (a producer) might not realize that a tune would benefit from an extra track of bass harmonica, or mandocello, or spoons. He loved to play the spoons. And he grinned from ear to ear while he did."

"On one orchestral session that I led in the 70s, he played spoons to a fun French-Canadian tune. At the end, he waited for a couple of beats after the final chord, and then, on purpose, dropped the spoons, which made quite the clatter. The entire orchestra laughed and we kept all of it in the final mix. Such a fun memory.”

“Jack was so supportive of me and my career. He played my music so beautifully. He stayed late (at no charge) to fix stuff that he wasn’t happy with. He introduced me to important folks, booked me for live gigs, gave me stuff, welcomed me into his home. At break time, he hung with the musicians, cracked jokes, told stories, asked about what everyone was into, and occasionally went out to his car to enjoy a big ol’ cigar.”

“As giving as he was, he knew the value of the music that he and the musicians he represented were providing. When he quoted on a job, and they said, ‘oh, we don’t have the budget for that,’ his response was, ‘well, get back to me when you do.’ “

“He was the godfather of studio musicians.” - Mike Francis (session guitarist)

“He was the cheerleader, he was the backstop for everybody, he always had the one-liners, he was always sittin’ there laughin’ and playin’ his ass off all at the same time. He was the guy you went to if you had a problem, a question, the guy who explained things to you, took you aside and give you some advice in a very kind and friendly way.”

“When I started, I didn’t know anything. I had taught myself how to play - never had a lesson. I didn’t even know what a (commercial) jingle was. I couldn’t even read music, which was a must for studio musicians. I stumbled and scuffled through my first session. I held everyone up because I couldn’t read, and I figured no one would ever hire me again.”

“But I got some more work, and Jack was always on these sessions. I was holding these guys up, and while nothing was said openly, there was this underlying feeling that this kid had better improve. And fast.“

“After one of these sessions, Jack takes me outside and says, ‘if you want to do this for a living, you’ve got to learn to at least read eighth notes.’ He’s being very kind and pleasant. He writes down the names of two books.” They were full of exercises for Mike to work on. He was advised to work with his metronome, start slow, and work his way through it until he got a handle on things.

“I got the books and spent eight hours day with them. I was still playing in bar bands bars six nights a week, so I’d be playing bars at night and working on learning how to read music for eight hours during the day. I was busting my rear end because I wanted to be a studio musician so badly. As I’m doing this, I kept running into Jack almost every day. He’d put his arm around my back, and say “Hey man, you’re reading better all the time. It’s working, man, keep doin’ what you’re doin’.’ A real father figure.”

“Jack realized her behavioural problems stemmed from her family life.” Brian Barlow

The Toronto Musicians Association chose Zaza for its Lifetime Achievement Award in 2022. Brian Barlow (drummer, percussionist, Grammy winner) was his nominator.

“As Jack became less busy in the studios, he hooked up with one of the Toronto school boards and taught woodwind instruments to high school students. He was teaching at Etobicoke School for the Arts when my daughter, Emilie-Claire was there. He told me a story about the first day of class one year.”

“Eleven clarinet players came into his classroom and one of them had the instrument out of the case and was blowing away as loud as she could, squeaking and squawking so loudly that Jack couldn't be heard giving his initial welcome to the class. He asked her to stop but she refused. He finally went over and took the instrument out of her hands. She wasn't pleased and had some nasty things to say to him.”

“Rather than sending her away, or calling the office, he asked the class if they'd like a spare period. They were thrilled with the idea and everyone got up to leave. Jack pointed to the girl and said, ‘everyone but you.’ She stayed behind. He then sat down and took her clarinet apart. He gave her back just the mouthpiece and said, ‘blow into this like you were when you came into the classroom.’ She did. He said, ‘Now you're actually doing everything correctly and you're getting a great sound.’“

“He then added the first two parts back on to the instrument and told her to keep playing no matter what. He got her to finger the few keys on the second section and she was surprised that she could get some notes. Then, while she was still blowing, he assembled the entire instrument - but did it upside down, so that he could sit in front of her and finger the keys. He played some scales, then something that sounded like the opening glissando in Rhapsody In Blue. He then played a couple of little tunes, the whole while with her doing the blowing. She was thrilled.”

“Jack then said, ‘You see, you're good at this. Your parents would be proud.’ She looked at Jack and said, 'What parents? I've never met my parents.’ Jack realized right away that her behavioural problems stemmed from her family life, or lack thereof. He spent the rest of that period working with her and she eventually became the best student clarinetist he'd ever worked with. He kept in touch with her and she eventually became a medical doctor.”

“We’ll learn together.”

Brian Barlow: “Jack actually got paid to learn to play the chromatic harmonica.”
“He was doing a CBC radio series and the music director mentioned that they were going to have to bring in someone who played harmonica, because the writers had added a new character, a young boy who gets a harmonica for Christmas and learns to play it. Jack immediately told them he'd do it. The MD said, "Do you play harmonica?" Jack said, "No, but neither does the kid in the show. We'll learn together". Of course, by the next week Jack had already developed quite a bit of skill on the harmonica and went on to become the first-call harmonica (and bass harmonica) player in Toronto.”

“He never backed down from a challenge.” - Jackie Pardy

Jackie Pardy is Jack’s daughter. “Early mornings…my alarm clock was him warming up on the flute before he went off to the recording studio. I can still hear the arpeggio he would play as his warm-up. He was an early riser…he’d warm up, and then he’d go off to work every morning like anyone else’s dad, but he’d be going to a recording studio.”

“He was a fantastic musician, but what he was most proud of was his family life. You know, he was the father of six kids, devoted husband of 70 years, he was Catholic and devoted to his faith. Not what you think of sometimes when you think of musicians.”

“I learned a lot about my dad in the last few years, and particularly since Mom died - just seeing how he handled that challenge. It made me realize why he’s been so successful all his life. He never backed down from any challenge. All those instruments. If someone asked him to play something he didn’t know how to, he learned how to.”

“After Mom died on April 7, he was in hospital for thirteen days. He was just so off-schedule, lots of commotion around him, and he got dehydrated. When he got out, he was determined he was going to come back. He exercised, he was like a dog on a bone about wanting to drive again, he was determined to put the weight back on that he’d lost. He started walking again. He was so proud that was able to once again walk around the block. And the morning he went into the hospital before he died, he was so proud to have done 4,000 steps.”

“He loved to learn. He even learned how to do internet banking in his eighties. After Mom died, I’d get a call now and then about how he’d finished his latest “Wordle.” He never gave up. He never had the sense that he couldn’t do something. Such an optimist till the very end.”

with great granddaughter Addison Zaza at the keys

Jack Zaza died of natural causes on June 24, 2022, family at his side.

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Ted O'Reilly : Jazz Radio 's giant

2/15/2022

8 Comments

He never played a note, but he passionately helped build Canada’s jazz audience

Ted O’Reilly’s musical experience consists of a few piano lessons, and a little marching band glockenspiel. But there’s no one in Canada who’s done more to bring jazz to Canadians, or to promote Canadian musicians.

“I wasn’t good enough to play. But I loved jazz. And I liked radio, so I thought, maybe I could have a career in broadcasting.”

That worked out.

Thirty-seven years as host of the country’s most important jazz radio program, The Jazz Scene on CJRT-FM in Toronto; more than 250 live jazz concerts presented and broadcast featuring Canada’s best artists, and the 26-hour radio series The Jazz Century. Add in hundreds of other recorded jazz performances, panel discussions, workshops, and multiple awards for contributions to jazz.

The interviews: O’Reilly’s hundreds of interview subjects span almost the entire twentieth century history of jazz: Eubie Blake, Earl “Fatha” Hines, Cab Calloway, Duke Ellington, Count Basie, Rob McConnell, Oscar Peterson, Buddy Rich, and on, and on. In Canada, Ted O’Reilly’s name says “Jazz” as much as anyone in music. Musician or not.

Altar Boy Discovers Gospel and the Blues
“I was raised Catholic in St. Catharines and we lived near the church. I was an altar boy at 8 or 9 years old, and because we lived so close to the church, I would always be given the early Masses to serve as the altar boy. The Catholic church didn’t use choirs very much, and when they did, the congregation didn’t sing. It was very clean, very pristine, you know, very religious.”

“The rest of my family would go to Mass at ten o’clock. I’d already been to church and was home. I’d turn the radio on around ten o’clock, hoping to hear something, and I ran across a live broadcast from a Black church in Buffalo, with the congregation joining in all the Gospel singing. It was SO different from what I had heard the priest do at my church. And I think that’s something that got to me. I thought, wow. It’s still all about Jesus and God, but it’s a different way of expressing it.”

“And then a few years later when I was hearing jazz on the radio, I was hearing that same thing. Whatever I was hearing in Gospel music, I was hearing in the Blues. As a 12-year-old in early 1950s Ontario, we had very little “Black” experience, and that’s the only way it linked for me, was through music.”

“By the time I got to high school, I was a real oddball, because all the other kids were talking about Elvis and all that stuff then. And here I was listening to all these people with funny names. “Count” Basie. “Fatha” Hines. “Duke” Ellington. As a jazz fan, I was all on my own.”

After graduating from Radio and Television Arts at the then-Ryerson Institute of Technology, he landed his first jobs in radio at CKKW in Kitchener and CHIC in Brampton. In Kitchener, he hosted an evening dinner music show for five or six hours a day, six days a week.

“There was lots of Mantovani and Ray Conniff, and I learned a lot about the American Songbook. Sometimes, later at night, no one would be listening, and I could slip in a nice, quieter Maynard Ferguson ballad or something, and no one complained.”

“I remember Count Basie came out with I Can’t Stop Loving You. It was a hit for Ray Charles, but Basie did an instrumental version, and I played it because it was a slower tempo. So, I slipped it in at about 11:30 at night, and when it finished, I got a hotline call from the program director. He said, ‘Don’t do that again.’ I said, ‘but it’s a nice tune and a good recording.’ He said, ‘No, no, I loved it, but it’s four minutes long and you missed a commercial break.’ That was commercial radio in those days.”

O'Reilly was considered an "honourary" member of Rob McConnell's Boss Brass, the Grammy and Juno-winning big band assessed by many as among the best in the world. O'Reilly (left) with Boss Brass baritone saxophonist Bob Leonard during a trip to California's Monterrey Jazz Festival in the mid-80s.

The interviews
To a jazz fan, the list of musicians interviewed by Ted O’Reilly is astonishing - unbelievably lengthy and complete. Taken all together, they are a precious walk through the history of jazz – in Canada and beyond. I recently listened to a complete interview with the great baritone saxophonist Pepper Adams in 1968. O’Reilly worked to create a conversation as opposed to reading from a list of questions; he listened, was not afraid of silence, and gently steered the conversation to topics that revealed as much about the person as they did the musician.

Duke Ellington
Ellington’s band was playing at the Royal York Hotel’s Imperial Room in Toronto and Duke agreed to an interview with O’Reilly upstairs in his hotel suite between the two shows.

“After the first show I get on the elevator and I go up to the suite, knock on the door, and I hear ‘c’mon in.’ I go in, and there was nobody in the room. It was a suite, with a living room and a bedroom. Then I hear a voice from the bedroom – ‘I’ll be out in a minute.’”

“So I’m setting up my recording machine, and then Duke walks out - nude! He was towelling off, but he’s got no clothes on. And he says ‘Oh, make yourself comfortable, sit down.’”

With some trepidation, the young interviewer sits on the couch, and Ellington sits on a chair next to him.

“So with the towel on his lap, we did the interview. Now THAT was interesting! He was just completely comfortable, and after a few seconds so was I. And he had to be about 70 by then.”

Buddy Rich
“His road manager gave me 20 minutes with him. We sit down, and WHAM, Buddy was right there, he was really in your face. But he was completely honest and dead on. I asked him who would you drop everything for right now and go to work for immediately?”

‘Basie. Anywhere, anytime.’

And about Rich’s legendary reputation as difficult and sharp-tongued?

“Oh, he might have let a ‘bullshit’ or something slip in once, but other than that, he was cool, he was a pro. After twenty minutes, his road manager wants him to move on to the next interview, but Buddy says, ‘I’m stayin’ here….I finally found a guy who knows what I’m talkin’ about.’”
“I think he knew he was going to a rock radio station next. We ended up doing about an hour. That was nice, to get that applause, so to speak.”

Earl “Fatha” Hines
“It was the second time I’d interviewed him. It was very moving. He had a daughter who had died, and he was still quite deeply grieving about it. Now on stage, he was SO outgoing and flamboyant in a way, so demonstrative. But he was so quiet offstage at that time. I did the interview with him, but I shelved it. It was so, so personal. We were talking about music but he kept veering off. But then you’d see him on stage, in a white suit, flashin’ a big smile. He was a stunningly great piano player.”

The Sound of Toronto Jazz
During his nearly four decades at CJRT, O’Reilly was the driving force behind roughly 700 live and recorded concerts for broadcast on CJRT, featuring Toronto’s and Canada’s best jazz artists. They constituted a timely boost for the careers of musicians at the centre of Toronto’s evolution into a world-class jazz hotspot.

“There was no place for Canadian jazz musicians to be heard in concert. You could hear them in a club, but you’d be seeing guys like Don Thompson and Bernie Senesky and Terry Clarke backing Zoot Sims. You wouldn’t hear the Bernie Senensky Trio.”

O’Reilly, with CJRT’s support, organized and recorded about 250 shows for The Sound of Toronto Jazz, a free-concert series held in the theatre at the Ontario Science Centre, which donated the venue and its parking lot for use after the Centre closed at 6:00pm. All of these shows were broadcast later on CJRT.

“We did everything from solo piano to the Boss Brass. And that was the concert Dizzy Gillespie came to. He was in the audience. He was playing in Toronto that night, but in between his shows he came out to hear the BB. He loved it. He had to leave five minutes early to make his 9 o’clock show downtown. I saw him later, and he said, ‘Oh man, I love that band, it’s so hot, man!’

O’Reilly also lined up another 500 or so “live-to-tape” concerts in Toronto clubs, festivals and concert halls, which would air later on CJRT.

“All the musicians agreed to do these shows for “scale.” They didn’t get much money. But they all loved it, because they got a chance to be heard more widely.”

“Toronto jazz musicians were just as talented as those in the much larger cities of New York, L.A., and London. Our best was as good as their best, but they had more. They were bigger cities, obviously. Toronto didn’t have to take a back seat to anybody, though. When the Boss Brass finally went to Los Angeles, the Henry Mancinis and the Artie Shaws stood in line outside the club to get in to hear the band.”

On Jazz Today

“I am so far removed from it. Things have changed so much. It’s about streaming now, individual tracks…not CDs. Recording changed, and so did the delivery of the music."

“I as a jazz fan like music to happen all at once. Recording has become, you record a drum track and then, you add a guitar track from somewhere else, and then you put in strings later…that isn’t jazz to me. I mean the guitar player may be great – but if they’re not there with a bass player, nodding and grooving with each other, it just becomes like chess pieces. They’re moving around a board, but not playing together somehow.”

“I’ve been out of it for years now, and I’m old, and I’ve got my habits, and the pandemic has shut things down. My career in jazz is over. I’m just an observer now like anyone else.”

“I keep my toes in jazz locally, and that’s about it. When the clubs open up again, I’ll go and hear the players…the young guys, who are now in their 60s! The Bernie Senenskys, Mark Eisenmans, the Mike Murleys. I remember hearing Reg Schwager when he was 16, and he’s 60 now. But to me he’s still a kid!”

The Ted O’Reilly epitaph?

“I hate to leave while the music’s playing.”

“It used to drive me crazy in the clubs that people in the audience would get up and leave while the band was still playing. Wait a minute. Just sit there, when the tune’s finished, then get up and leave. It’s so impolite.”

www.tedoreilly.com

john Macleod on Ted O'Reilly

Juno Award-winning Jazz Artist
Trumpeter/Composer/Arranger/Bandleader

I first started listening to Ted O'Reilly on the radio when I was around 12 years old. In my opinion he set the standard for what jazz radio should be. His programming featured jazz from every era and he told you who you were listening to, as well as when and where it was recorded. Ted recognized that jazz is an art form that requires collective improvisation and he always identified every musician on a recording, not just the leader.

In my teens I started regularly attending CJRT Science Center concerts which he curated and emceed. These concerts featured local musicians and served as part of my introduction to some of the amazing talent in the Toronto jazz community. A few years later I played my first Science Center concert with the Humber College band and would perform there many times in subsequent years with numerous Toronto groups. It was a special event for a local jazz musician to perform in a concert environment for a large audience, have your music broadcast on the radio, and even reviewed in the newspaper.

Ted's radio show and the concert series he presented were both extremely important to Toronto's jazz scene and are missed.

8 Comments

Rob McConnell and the boss brass

12/17/2021

2 Comments

The Best Damn Band in the Land!
by Andy Sparling

No Canadian band had ever done it.
In 1984, Rob McConnell and the Boss Brass won both a Grammy AND a JUNO award for "Best Big Jazz Band." It proved that Canadian jazz musicians were as good as any in New York, Los Angeles or anywhere else.

McConnell and the Boss Brass earned two other Grammys, and an incredible total of 17 nominations - not too mention three JUNOS north of the border in 1978, 1981, and 1984. Established in 1968, the band would present Canada's finest jazz musicians to the world for the next thirty years. McConnell was routinely described by his musicians as a funny, demanding and difficult-to-work-with perfectionist. But they all agree his strong leadership produced a band that was the best in the world, and one they felt truly privileged to be part of.

In 2012, the Prince Edward County Jazz Festival staged a tribute concert at Picton's Regent Theatre. All of the musicians had performed with the Boss Brass at one time or another. In the months before the concert, I conducted interviews with them that I edited together on a CD and distributed to the members of the band. They are being published here for the first time.

Guido Basso

"...Henry Mancini, Nelson Riddle, and Woody Herman were lined up waiting to see us..."
photo courtesy Brian O'Kane

Rick Wilkins

"Demanding, challenging, thrilling, and fun. "

John Macleod
"We were all hoping Rob wouldn't blow up!"

December 1983

photo courtesy
Barb McDougall

Back row (l to r) Ed Bickert, Steve Wallace, James Dale, Dave Woods, Erich Traugott, Arnie Chycoski, Guido Basso, John Macleod, Terry Clarke, Brian Barlow (Leonard) Saxes: (bottom to top) Eugene Amaro, Jerry Toth, Moe Koffman, Rick Wilkins, Bob Leonard Trombones: (bottom to top) Dave McMurdo, Ian McDougall, Bob Livingston, Ron "Grump" Hughes French horns: George Stimpson, James MacDonald. Middle: Rob McConnell

Brian Barlow

"To be in that band was the realization of a dream."

Ed Bickert (deceased 2019)
"It was thrilling when the band was taking care of business. But it was not easy under Rob."

James MacDonald

"As a French horn player...playing in the Boss Brass was an extraordinary boost and enrichment to my career."

Last club gig for the Boss Brass at the Old Mill in Toronto, 2008

courtesy
Don Vickery

Russ Little

"You could play anywhere if you played in the Boss Brass."

Vern Dorge

"I looked away for a minute, and there he was, on the ground."

Rob McConnell
1935 - 2010

Old Mill 2008

photo courtesy Brian O'Kane

Blair Yarranton

As an impressionable teenaged trumpeter, Blair made a trip to Toronto see the BB. It didn't exactly turn out the way he wanted.

2 Comments

phil Murphy - talk about A youth jazz education!!!

12/5/2021

1 Comment

Editors note: Phil Murphy passed away Feb. 13, 2022 at the age of 92. Many people, including me, owe this man a lot.

Hangin’ with Ella, Benny, and Nat
Retired London Hall of Famer’s gig as a 21-year-old meant up-close and personal moments with the biggest names in jazz

by Andy Sparling, Nov. 2021

Seventy-one years ago, 21-year-old Phil Murphy from Windsor, Ontario was sharing stages with jazz legends Ella Fitzgerald, Nat King Cole, Sarah Vaughan and Frances Langford. And Benny Goodman raked him over the coals, too. Now 92, Murphy spent much of his life as a music teacher in London, Ontario, where he’s a member of that city’s Music Hall of Fame.

He was my first music teacher, whose impressive credentials accrued because of his considerable accomplishments as an educator, conductor, performer, mentor, and adjudicator. And, I will add, for the infectious joy he shared with beginners like me. As much as I have always admired Phil for all of those things, it’s the time in his early 20s that just makes you shake your head in wonder.

The barely-out-of-his-teens kid from Windsor hit the road for Ottawa in 1948, after a short stint playing an ice show tour featuring Barbara Ann Scott, the 1948 Olympic figure skating gold medalist. One day, after he’d taken a job dressing windows for a tobacco company, he got on the wrong streetcar and ran into a musician acquaintance, who told him they were auditioning sax players at the Standish Hall Hotel in Hull, Quebec. The Standish was an iconic club where the very top jazz musicians in North American regularly played.

Library of Canada Michael Berens Collection

They didn’t need sax players, but – “can you play clarinet?” The answer was a resounding yes, and Murphy was hired to play in the Standish Hall’s house band six nights a week. And what a job it was. The Standish booked top American jazz acts from time to time - Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, Tommy Dorsey, Benny Goodman, to name just a few. Most nights, the big acts would play two shows a night, and the house band did three dance sets. Sometimes, the local musicians got the night or the week off. “We got paid $50 a week, whether we played or not. Good money, when you could live on $30 or $35.”

“Trouble is,” he laughs, “I was drinking three quarts of beer a night.”

It was the start of many personal encounters with music’s biggest stars.

Ella Fitzgerald – “She’d just got divorced from Ray Brown when she came to the Standish. She invited me to sit down with her at a table as she was waiting to go on one night. She told me after the gig she was going to see Ray and Oscar (Peterson) at the Gatineau Club, a 10-minute cab ride. Ella asked me to go along. And there’s Ray working with Oscar Peterson. Ella introduced me to both of them.”
Nat King Cole - “He was really shy. I went up to talk to him. He was friendly, but he only answered questions. A couple of years later, I worked with him again. Twice. I asked him if he remembered me, and he said, ‘yeah, you were one of the guys who actually spoke to me.”

Sarah Vaughan, Hank Jones – “Hank Jones was accompanying Sarah Vaughan at the Standish. She was very friendly. And I actually became pretty good friends with Hank. He asked me if I knew harmony. I said yeah, I’d studied it at the Conservatory. He said, ‘no, I mean JAZZ harmony.’ So, he sat me down at the piano and had me play Come to Me My Melancholy Baby – his way. Later I saw him play in New York at a place called the Band Box, right beside Birdland. He remembered me and came over. ‘Got your horn?’, he asked. I didn’t have it. I was there with my fiancé, and I said, “Hank, I just got engaged. He says, ‘that’s OK, we can probably find you one.’ He was very kind.”

Sarah Vaughan & friends Library of Canada Michael Berens Collection

“In those days, my experience was that the better the musician, the more approachable and willing to help you they were.”
Tommy Dorsey - “I actually watched Dorsey fire his whole band as he counted a tune in. He went ‘One, two - I forgot to tell you you’re all on two weeks’ notice.’ - three, four.’   His way of cutting costs before the band went back to New York, I guess. His musicians didn’t like him very much. He made them all wear shoestring bow ties they had to tie themselves. Then he’d go around and undo their tie, and then give ‘em hell for having their tie undone.”

Jack Teagarden, Earl "Fatha" Hines – “Jack came in playing trombone with Louis Armstrong’s band (Aug. 1951). In addition to Jack and Louis, that band had Barney Bigard (clarinet), Cozy Cole (drums), and Earl “Fatha” Hines (piano). Mrs. Teagarden introduced me to Jack, and he says to me, ‘I heard you play. You need a lesson? We’ll get together after the gig tomorrow night.’

“So I show up and he’s made up some cardboard chord charts which, when you moved them this way or that, displayed the relationship between all the different jazz chords. He went through it all with me. My second harmony lesson from a big-timer.”

“One Sunday morning my landlady in Ottawa tells me the Standish Hall just burned down. So, I grabbed a cab and got over there right away. First two guys I see are Earl Hines and Cozy Cole. They’re standing there with straw hats on, no shirts, and suspenders. They’d just gotten out of the burning building. Those two guys had gone to our band room, gathered up our instruments and music, got a ladder from the fire department, and slid it all down the ladder to safety. Those two jazz superstars saved the house band’s instruments and music. Unbelievable.”

Benny Goodman-The most cringeworthy story is the time the young
saxophonist/clarinetist was introduced to the occasionally nasty King of Swing – Benny Goodman, whose band was booked for a week at the Standish. Murphy had been asked by the Standish Hall manager to usher four members of the Goodman band through a round of golf, and later, dinner.

While they’re waiting for cabs to take them to the restaurant, Goodman happens by and addresses Murphy, who recounts the conversation this way:
‘Hi Stuff,” Goodman says. ‘I’ve been listening to you play. You stink.’
“Terry Gibbs (vibraphonist) says, ‘C’mon Benny, leave the kid alone. He didn’t do anything to you.’

“I get into the car that Benny’s not in, I really don’t want to ride with him. He gets out of his car, and then gets into the car that I’m in, and he gives it to me all the way to the restaurant. Stuff like, ‘you never studied…you don’t know how to finger…your mouthpiece is lousy.’
“The next night I go to the Standish to eat supper, and Goodman sees me and he comes over, grabs me by the hand, and says ‘how ya doin’, Stuff? Good to see you. You didn’t pay any attention to me the other night, did you?’

“I said, ‘it’s OK Mr. Goodman.’ He says, ‘Well, I’m really glad to see you.”
“So then a little later I see the other guys, and I said to them, ‘Goodman’s out of his mind. He treated me like the Prodigal Son. And they all started to laugh.”

“Terry Gibbs says, ‘we were out for dinner with Benny, and Paul Smith (piano) took out a newspaper, laid it on the table and said, ‘hey, did you guys hear what happened to that young tenor player? He killed himself this morning. They found him dead on the bathroom floor.’
“And they let Goodman believe that. I guess two or three of them lit into Benny … ‘we told you so, that one of these days…. and that’s why he was so glad to see you the other night!’

Benny Goodman & friends Library of Canada Michael Berens Collection

“Seriously. I can’t make this stuff up. But what he said to me was absolutely accurate. I couldn’t play then. But I never really had the perception that I couldn’t play well. Fifty years later, I was a very good clarinet player. I improved all the time. I could play anywhere, with anyone.”

Ray Brown and Oscar Peterson (again) - “I met Ray a couple of times after the Standish. Years later, when I was teaching in London, Oscar, Ed Thigpen, and Ray were playing at Campbell’s Restaurant. I went down to see them, and Ray says, “what are you doin’ after? He invited me to Oscar’s rehearsal for the trio. So after the job, we had a sandwich and a coffee, and I went off to see Oscar rehearse those guys. Ray told me to make sure I didn’t make a sound. I didn’t. I left at three because I had an eight o’clock class the next morning.”

Frances Langford – The house band backed mega-star Frances Langford (singer and star of radio and film, well-known for her participation in Bob Hope’s troop entertainment shows). Her then-husband and co-star was Jon Hall, a well-known Hollywood adventure actor and matinee idol.

Cliff Edwards - Murphy didn’t even know that he’d met actor Cliff Edwards (aka “Ukelele” Ike), who was the voice of Walt Disney’s Jiminy Cricket in Pinocchio. It was only after Murphy heard Edwards sing When You Wish Upon a Star, the beloved Disney tune that Edwards himself had introduced in 1940, that he realized whom he’d been talking to.

Jimmy Cleveland – “He came into the Standish with Lionel Hampton’s band. We went out for a coffee. He said to me, ‘you OK doin’ this with me?’ And I realized he couldn’t do it in the States very much…have a coffee with a white guy. He was surprised that nobody cared. Five guys actually quit Hampton’s band then and there, and stayed in Ottawa, because they liked that about Canada. But they didn’t stay too long, because it took them too long to get their full-time playing cards.”

On Second Thought ... “I had offers to play in some name American bands south of the border in 1950 – Blue Barron, Johnny Long, Shep Fields. They needed new players because some of their guys were getting drafted for the Korean War.”

“Paul Martin Sr., who was also from Windsor (and a heavyweight cabinet minister in the governments of Louis St. Laurent, Lester Pearson, and Pierre Trudeau), called the American embassy for me, and managed to get me across the border. I came face-to-face with an American marine sergeant, who asked if I’d like to sign up. I said no, I’m a musician. He told me it didn’t matter that I was Canadian - I’d have to register for the draft within 24 hours. Two of my Windsor friends were drafted that way, and ended up getting killed. Me, I went home.”

Murphy was still playing sax and clarinet in public right up until the pandemic began. While Parkinsons is presenting some challenges, there’s still the fun in his voice I first noticed as he fitted me with my first trombone fifty-six years ago. Phil Murphy’s joy of music burns hotter than ever.

Reflections on music learning - Andy Sparling

I apologize to Doreen Pike, my first piano teacher.

I was seven when Mom signed me up for lessons. I hated them. I had to be threatened into practising with no end of disappearing privileges. Miss Pike, a fastidious “wrists up, back straight” instructor, tried her very best in the face of this frustrating ball of obstinate boyhood. We all gave up when, according to Mom, I sped up at a recital in a deliberate act of sabotage. I can’t remember; I guess I blocked that out. George Bernard Shaw foretold my arrival on a piano bench when he said “youth is wasted on the young.”

After my interview with Phil Murphy, I got thinking about the role of music education, both in my own experience, and because it’s a big part of the mission of the Prince Edward County Jazz Festival.

No one would mistake me for a musician capable of playing on the main stage at that festival. But I’ve had an ocean of satisfaction and joy (not to mention a not-insignificant second source of income) in a part-time horn-blowing career. I now attribute a large part of my life’s richness to “Mr. Murphy.”

A couple of years after the keyboard catastrophe, my dad took me on the road with Lionel Thornton and the Casa Royal Orchestra. Every Friday night in the summer, I’d ride with the musicians in this Lombardo-esque dance band to Moon Mullins’ Dance Pavilion in Kincardine on the shore of Lake Huron, where I’d help set the band up, and then watch the show (9pm – 1am} from an unused balcony as 400 couples, dressed to the nines, danced the night away. Step One on my road of musical rehabilitation.

In Grade 7, I signed up for a new elementary school band. I’d decided I wanted to play the trombone, surprisingly impressed by the Casa Royal trombonist’s solo on I’m Getting Sentimental Over You. Rehearsals were held at London Central Secondary School, where Phil Murphy was the Music Department head. He was the organizer and conductor, and he did it all after school on his own time. He thought it was important to his own developing high school program to have a “feeder” band made up of kids who would come to his music program two years later. The idea was they’d be “junior-band-ready.”

I remember the first day clearly. Assigning instruments to us, Murphy took my right “slide” arm and eyeballed the distance between my wrist and my shoulder. The verdict - “Well, you won’t reach seventh position for awhile, but that’ll come.” I was SO proud to take that school-issued trombone home that night.

Once-a-week for two years, we rehearsed. Okay - “rehearsal” is pushing it - we made a lot of noise figuring out how to operate the hardware, read the notes, and play in tune (yeah, right!) without driving the amiable “Mr. Murphy” completely around the bend. It was so much fun, especially with a teacher whose personality was a perfect fit for beginners. By the time we hit Grade 9, we were automatically in the school junior band, which of course was the “feeder” for the senior band. We wondered how we would ever be good enough to play there; it was reserved for students in Grades 11, 12, and 13.

But, by the end of Grade 10, we had progressed to the point where some of us were promoted in time for a band trip to the East Coast. First time my horn had taken me out of town! From then on, it was an elite-level high school experience performing in concert bands, a stage band, chamber groups, and pit orchestras. In fact, it was a 16-piece, all-student pit band, playing from REAL Broadway music “books,” that performed in productions of The Boyfriend and Guys and Dolls. Our senior concert band won the “march” class at the Toronto Kiwanis Music Festival in 1971. Three of us actually sat in one Saturday night on a real “gig” with one of London’s two leading dance bands. The music program led by Phil Murphy and Don Clarke had clearly done something right.

It wasn’t till years later that I realized just HOW strong that program had been. I didn’t go on in music - I didn’t have enough piano credentials. (!) I got into another line of work that left no time for music for fifteen years. Then one day, I changed jobs, and I got playing again. I started practising like crazy. Thirty years later, I can look back on highlights like leading a successful big swing band for ten years, going “on the road” for a brief period with the 60s supergroup The Temptations, leading a busy jazz and swing trio, and playing in nearly a dozen musical theatre productions. That beginning under Phil Murphy set me up for all of that.

Some of his students, like bassoonist Rifka Eisenstat, DID go into music at university. She attributes the success of her career, and the role of seemingly innocuous events in its unfolding to Murphy as well.

“I played flute in Grades 7 & 8 after school at Central as well. Because I was already playing flute, I was a little bored when I got to Grade 9. Mr. Murphy (hard to call him Phil) asked if I’d like to try a different instrument and suggested bassoon because there were no bassoonists in the school. If I hadn’t switched to bassoon I probably wouldn’t have ended up in the Faculty of Music at Western (they also needed bassoonists). And if I didn’t get a degree in music, I probably wouldn’t have gotten a job as a teacher (in ‘77 there were only music and French jobs). My whole life trajectory was established by playing flute in Grades 7 & 8 after school at Central.”

These are the characteristics of effective learning and teaching: dedicated, professionally-invested teaching and mentoring, and challenging performance opportunities in secure environments. They guided Phil Murphy, and they’re the cornerstones of the music education programs offered by the Prince Edward County Jazz Festival.

Phil Murphy bio notes
1959 - he was the first wind player to graduate from the University of Western Ontario with a music degree. As a teacher, thirty years in the London public and separate school systems, 17 years part-time faculty member at Western, and 16 years teaching a jazz course at Fanshawe College. As a performer/conductor/adjudicator: RCR Band, principal clarinet of the London Symphony for 19 years, and musical director at London’s Grand Theatre; music “manager” for the visit of the Queen in 1973. Saxophone and clarinet performer/conductor in many concert and big bands, leader of his own jazz trio and Klezmer band. Music festival adjudicator across Canada.

Andy Sparling is a somewhat-retired teacher, broadcaster, author and journalist with an obsession for the trombone. He led the Commodores Orchestra for ten years, and his own jazz & swing trio for eight. He’s also a proud volunteer for the Prince Edward County Jazz Festival.

1 Comment

update - Matt Woroshyl

11/26/2021

0 Comments

Matt was the Rising Young Star Award winner at the Prince Edward C0lunty Jazz Festival in 2013. He has a bachelor's degree in jazz performance from the University of Toronto, and a master's from the Manhattan School of Music.

You've played in some pretty iconic New York clubs. Who did you play with, and what was it like playing at Birdland, the Blue Note, and Dizzy's Club?

I've been lucky to play at these great venues with some fantastic musicians. Birdland was actually through Manhattan School of Music and I was a part of a big band featuring Jane Monheit on vocals. We had a residency there every night that week. The Blue Note was with singer Jamie Cullum and Dizzy's Club was with the Kyle Athayde Dance Party. That band is actually releasing an album on December 15th (2021) which I'm excited to hear. I was in awe of the history behind each venue and who had stood on that stage previously. After that moment, all thoughts turn to the music and the moment of awe fades into concentrating on music of the moment, at least for me.

Tell me about your debut album. What is the inspiration, and how does it reflect your ideas about jazz on sax?

The idea behind "Forward" came from a meditation idea. I had started meditation the year before I recorded my album and stumbled upon the idea of mantras or more specifically one-word mantras. One day during a meditation session the word "Forward" popped into my head and stayed with me in future meditations for many months. I was going through a transitional period in my life with some difficulties and wanted to move forward with my life and career so I started writing some compositions with the intent to record an album, and I did.
In terms of how it reflected my ideas of jazz on saxophone I look at it from the perspective that my ideas on saxophone influenced the music and music writing process. At that point in my life I had spent so much time in school and this was the first extended "breathing" moment I could take to gather my ideas on the saxophone and organize them into a structured way.

mattworoshyl.com/music

How are you surviving the pandemic? How has it changed what you do?

My pandemic experience has been better than most of what I hear. Financially I was still able to teach music virtually and earn enough of an income to survive, and I also have to mention that CERB and eventually CRB were life-savers. Now that performances have started up again things are starting to feel closer to normal, but it's going to take a while for recovery to get well under way. What's changed the most for me and what I do is the online nature of everything, and I mean everything. I was fortunate to perform for the Bravo Niagara Festival of the Arts with Larnell Lewis, Dione Taylor, Robi Botos and Mike Downes in a virtual, pre-recorded performance that was broadcasted for International Jazz Day back in April. The extent to which everything was virtual and isolated really hit home that times are not the way they used to be.

I see on your website you are trying to help other musicians who've been hit hard. Why?

I feel that musicians/artists have so much to offer, especially during a global pandemic. I knew times were tough for my craft and I knew that there were thousands and thousands of others that felt the same way, so I found links for colleagues and artists that I personally love and shared links to their projects so that others that check out my website could follow and support these other artists.

What are your goals in jazz? Where would you like to be five, ten years from now?

My goals are to release a lot more music and be even more engaged in the Toronto and Canadian music scenes. I would also love to have the privilege of one day working at a university full-time teaching music. I wish to see my passions of both creating music and educating take leaps forward in the next few years.

Could you reflect on your time at the PEC Jazz Festival? Was it important in your development?

The PEC Jazz Festival was an incredibly welcoming experience, from the bed & breakfast where I stayed to all of the organized shows I was a part of, I felt that it was an incredibly positive experience, where I was performing with some of the country's greatest musicians every single day. It was all vital to my musical development, especially as a younger musician. I have nothing but great things to say about my time at the Prince Edward County Jazz Festival.

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Russ Little on the death of Slide Hampton

11/22/2021

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Unquestionably, one of the most naturally charming men that I’ve ever met, Slide (Lockesly) Hampton was a mentor, a friend and a wonderful trombonist.
My stories and memories of Slide are endless, and I keep them in the vault :)
He helped me to survive the mental rigours of travelling through the USA and Europe as a fresh-assed, naive college boy, just out of Uni. of Toronto, with Woody and Basie.
Thank you to an unforgettable musician and man.....RIP Slide Hampton.aow
s a mentor, a U"

Russ Little Slide Hampton

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update - claire devlin

11/8/2021

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"A lot of people I've never seen before."

“It was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done.”

18-year-old saxophonist Claire Devlin had just won the Rising Young Star award at the Prince Edward County Jazz Festival in 2012. She would head off to McGill University’s jazz program a couple of weeks later, and there she was, performing on stage at the Regent Theatre with some of Canada’s and the world’s biggest jazz acts.

Nearly a decade later, despite Covid, she has both her undergraduate and master’s degrees in jazz performance, a firm and respected foothold gigging in the lively Montreal music scene, her own quartet and a critically-acclaimed debut album entitled Anyone.

But that long-ago stage in Prince Edward County left its mark.

“I think back on that often. It felt completely out of my comfort zone, being thrown in with these incredible musicians. But it taught me that I could get through it. I think I have enough distance from it now to realize that it was really great for my development – learning to let go of stuff and just try to be present and do your best, make music, and not worry too much about what people think. In the moment I was, well, I have no choice but to do this – there’s no backing out now. It was great. It was fun, everyone was positive, I got great feedback and it worked out, even though it felt like the world was about to fall on top of me.”
“And playing with that calibre of musicians taught me a lot about far I had to go – not in a bad way, but how much I wanted to get better.”

The Claire Devlin Quartet was born as she was gigging her way around Montreal while going to school in 2016. She wrote for it, did a mini-tour of Ontario, and was preparing for a tour of B.C. and Alberta in March of 2020 when the pandemic hit. She’s also been subbing in increasingly with the Montreal National Jazz Orchestra, and played this spring with saxophonist Christine Jensen, who she’s looked up to since high school.

Claire’s also been teaching privately since she was in high school. It’s helped keep her afloat financially during the last year-and-a-half, despite the challenge of conducting virtual lessons. “Seeing the enthusiasm of people starting out is contagious, even if I’m feeling kind of down about music, that kind of inspires me.”

But the pandemic has been a game-changer, as it has for many musicians.

“I had so much momentum going when it hit. I did feel disconnected from music for awhile. I wasn’t practising much, I wasn’t composing, and I think I was a little burnt out. I remember sitting in my room finishing compositions for my Masters that wouldn’t be played…it was pretty depressing, obviously.”

“There was a lot of self-reflection. “Eventually I started playing music by myself and I realized that I really missed it, and that was a good feeling. Once it started happening again it was incredible. I‘ve had a bunch of indoor shows in Montreal just in the last month…it’s picking up for sure.”

“Covid’s been a real roller coaster. It’s been really, really difficult for artists to feel valued by society, and to understand your own value in this time. I’ve definitely struggled a lot, but I think it’s really nice things are coming back, and I’m feeling quite hopeful now. I’m noticing there are a lot of people in the audience I’ve never seen before. And they’re extremely attentive, they’re not just chatting at the back of the room. Before it would be a crowd of friends and other musicians but it seems to have changed.”

She’s also doing what she calls a “side hustle” - freelance computer programming that she took a course for during the pandemic.

“It’s a little extra money, and unrelated to music. I’m diversifying and finding different streams of income because one of the things I learned during the pandemic is that I really don’t want to play background music. What I care about most is an attentive audience, whether it’s pop music, jazz, Indie, whatever. I don’t want to play wedding receptions.”
“It’s hard to make a living in music right now. We don’t know where the world is going. But if I can get back to playing shows and touring and playing my own music…that’s the dream.”

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update - lucian gray

11/8/2021

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What Goes Around ...

Incredibly, Lucian Gray had only been playing guitar a few years when he won the Prince Edward County Jazz Festival’s Rising Young Star Award in 2009. The festival wasn’t alone in recognizing his considerable talents; he’d already earned a full-ride scholarship to Berklee College in Boston.

Twelve years later, he’s now the full-time Program Manager for the well-respected Community Music Program at Humber College in Toronto.

It’s been a long journey, and it began with a bit of a tough go at Berklee.

“I spent four years there just catching up to everyone else – they’re such good players down there. Unbelievable, really.” “It was tough to stay in the States when I graduated, and I didn’t see a path forward there.”

He moved back home to Toronto, comfortable where he grew up and with a vibrant music scene for lots of playing, and eventually got into teaching a second-year Master guitar class at Humber. Along the way, Lucian was a finalist in the 2015 Wes Montgomery International Guitar Competition in New York. That led to a critically important endorsement deal with the company that makes world-class Benedetto guitars, which led to great gigs, contacts, and life-long friendships.

A year later, he was a semi-finalist in the elite Herbie Hancock competition that, again, drew entrants from around the world. “I wasn’t super happy with my performance there, but it was important to me because it kind of validated what I was doing as a performer. It was my last competition…competition is for horses, as Bartok used to say.” It added up to a busy career performing and teaching. Cue the pandemic.

As with all musicians, the live gigs dried up, and his hours at Humber were reduced because of lower enrollment. He had to pivot to doing more home production and recording projects.
“It was hard to adapt. I took a long break from playing because it was tough with my new job, which is very busy.”

He’s been in his new role with Humber’s Community Music Program since January. It’s for children and youth aged 3-18. It’s a happy homecoming, too. It’s where Lucian started playing jazz at the age of ten, and where he would continue to develop all through high school.

“Before it began in 1980, the only way to get a formal music education was to do classical music. This was formed as an alternative to traditional classic music education, recognizing that the skill set of a jazz musician is very beneficial across all professional music.”

“I know there are some musicians who regard teaching or anything other than performing as a compromise or a necessary evil. It’s never been like that for me. I really enjoy it. Would I say it was a goal of mine to teach when I was at Berklee? No. But make no mistake. I am so grateful for this opportunity, and I’m passionate about teaching.”

The son of well-known musicians Charlie Gray and Madoka Murata got back to live playing recently, and he thinks the live scene is coming back to life.

“I think people are absolutely missing the connection they get from live music. I played my first gig a couple of weeks ago and was amazed. A lot of seats were reserved and it was almost sold out. That didn’t happen before the pandemic so much, so I guess there’s pent-up demand.”

And where does Lucian Gray see himself ten years from now?

“I’m 31. I don’t feel like I’m not a musician anymore, but I definitely feel like I’m still searching a bit. I haven’t done an album. I’m getting closer to it. I just haven’t seen myself as a finished player; maybe you’re never finished, and I’m realizing that as I get older. That’s been a struggle for me.”

There are only fond memories of his award-winning week at the Prince Edward County Jazz Festival in Picton twelve years ago.

“It was amazing for me, particularly coming up from kind of a harsh environment at Berklee, I really appreciated it in the County. I thank those who’ve taken an interest in my career along the way.”

One final note – what music does Lucian Gray listen to now?
“Different stuff, but always - the Blue Note jazz recording classics. And lots of Led Zeppelin!”

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Daniel Jamieson - update

10/17/2021

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Thriving south of the border

Daniel Jamieson, originally from Toronto, was the Prince Edward County Jazz Festival's Rising Young Star in 2008.

Now, it's Staff Sergeant Daniel Jamieson, based in Maryland and one of three staff arrangers for the U.S. Army Field Band. And oh, by the way, he has a resume that includes internationally-recognized work as a composer, arranger and conductor; a Grammy nomination and collaborations with jazz stars from Joe Lovano to Joshua Redman, the Toronto Symphony, Broadway stars, and the Metropole Orchestra. And his own Danjam Orchestra provides the outlet for his own big band/jazz orchestra writing. Daniel holds a Bachelor of Music degree from the University of Toronto, and a Master of Music degree from the Manhattan School of Music.

Q: How have you managed through the pandemic? How did things change for you?

A: It has been an interesting couple of years for sure. I am grateful to have had employment. So many of my talented peers have had little or no work. It is heartbreaking.

Q: Tell me about arranging for the U.S. Army Field Band.

A: I'm 1 of 3 staff arrangers. The Field Band's mission is to connect America to their Army through music. Under normal circumstances the bands tour ~100 days a year playing free concerts for the public all across the country. Due to the pandemic we switched to a virtual format featuring livestreamed small ensembles performances combined with archival footage of the larger group. We've just started to travel once again. I write for their concert band, soldiers chorus, jazz band (Jazz Ambassadors), blueglass / commercial (Six String Soldiers), as well as various small ensembles.

Q: How did that job come about? Isn't it unusual that a Canadian would get such an important job in the U.S. military music world?

A: I found out about the job opening from SFC Paul White (also an arranger at The U.S. Army Field Band). We were both participants in the BMI Jazz Composers Workshop at the time under the direction of Jim McNeely and Mike Holober. I remember Paul and I got together to chat about the job and I decided at that point I was going to put all my energy into winning the job. One of my mentors - the great Rich DeRosa (UNT), put me in touch with former West Point arranger, the late Tex Arnold, who then introduced me to the amazingly talented (vocalist) Alexis Cole, who had also served in the West Point Band. All three advised me as I prepared for the audition, and then celebrated with me after I won the job. Alexis sent me some wonderful letters while I was locked away at basic training without a phone. They always put a smile on my face. After a very lengthy audition process where I had to write a number of sample pieces and work with all the different groups, I won the job. Then I spent the better part of a year trying to obtain a green card on my own. Then there was basic training at Fort Jackson which lasted 10 long sleepless weeks. More recently I became an American citizen. My writing responsibilities are done primarily from my home office and I go into the office regularly for rehearsals, meetings, and training as needed. Thankfully, I am able to maintain my freelance writing & conducting schedule outside of my military responsibilities.

Below: Daniel Jamieson collaborating with saxophonist Joe Lovano



Q: Tell me about the big band scene.

A: l would say the contemporary big band scene is thriving - especially in New York. There are so many great bands out there! Big bands do make up a good chunk of my work but I would say I write more for orchestra. Usually I am called to write a fresh, creative, modern arrangement of a piece to feature an instrumental or vocal soloist. It is definitely interesting to look back at all the various influences that have crept their way into my writing.

Q: Where does Danjam fit in your life?

A: The Danjam Orchestra (my big band) is my opportunity to write & perform my own original music and I am looking forward to being able to perform with the band again live! However, I am very lucky that my freelance commissions are creatively satisfying jazz projects. What I love most about my job is that every day is different. I get to write for all sorts of different ensembles and various styles of music. It's never boring!

Above - Daniel Jamieson (3rd from right) with Danjam Orchestra sax section

Q: Where do you see yourself in ten years? What would you like to have done by then?

A: I recently launched a new business with my good friend - trombonist Steve McFarlane - in June of 2021.

www.JazzComposersPresent.com

It's an online space where composers, musicians, and listeners come together to celebrate the music we love. I was trying to find musical inspiration during the pandemic where live music is scarce. My goal with this website was to build a community of composers, musicians, and fans. I went into it thinking it would be a fun side project. At the end of our first month we had members from 12 countries from around the world. We livestream Composer Spotlights (masterclasses), Listening Sessions, Roundtables, Group Lessons, and Artist Q&As. Additionally, each week we upload a free Mini-Lesson to our YouTube channel featuring one of our guests. Notable presenting artists include: Darcy James Argue (Secret Society, Queens College), Richard DeRosa (University of North Texas), Andy Farber (Julliard), Miho Hazama (m_unit, Metropole Orchestra, Danish Radio Big Band), Pete McGuinness (William Paterson University), Jim McNeely (Frankfurt Radio Big Band, Vanguard Jazz Orchestra), Rufus Reid (WDR Big Band), and Dave Young (Toronto's own!). We are constantly adding new artists to our roster.

.It's been wonderful connecting with peers, colleagues, and musical heros to share the music we all love. We recently began partnering with institutions (as far away as Australia!!) to provide students / staff / faculty access to our content through their academic libraries. The business is already incredibly successful and I am very grateful to Steve McFarlane, my Operations Manager, for doing much of the heavy lifting.

Here is a short video overview of the website:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ISZKjq-Fl7Y

Anyone who achieves a level of success in the music industry knows you cannot do it alone and I am very grateful for everyone who mentored me and believed in me along the way: Rick Centalonza, Alex Dean, Rich DeRosa, Mike Malone, Jim McNeely, Vince Mendoza, Cathy Mitro, Dave Neill, John Pagnotta, Terry Promane, Paul Read, & Tim Ries.

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