I think the video speaks for itself:
I think the video speaks for itself:
Danny Boy ……. My favorite story about this song is the one told by a traditional fiddler in a concert at the Stage Door in Cranbrook. He had been busking in Toronto when some one came up to him and asked him did he know Danny Boy?
“Well yes I do”
“I’ll give you ten bucks to play Danny Boy”, and with that he dropped a ten dollar bill into the violin case. The fiddler was not over enthused with the prospect of playing Danny Boy. It’s an old favorite of mothers, grand mothers, Irish Tenors and Saturday night drunks and the fiddler had heard more versions than he could care to remember and he really didn’t want to be added to the list. However, ten bucks is ten bucks so he over came his hesitancy and launched into a heart rendering version of the old war horse. He thought he acquitted himself very well indeed, until the patron reached down and picked up the ten dollar bill.
“What are you doing? You wanted Danny Boy and I played it”
“Yeh, but I didn’t like the way you played it”.
That disgruntled patron should have been in the audience on Saturday night when Lizzy Hoyt closed out her concert with an unaccompanied encore of Danny Boy. It was outstanding !!!!!
Lizzy Hoyt in Concert – Stage 64, Kimberley – Saturday, March 23, 2019 – This is the second concert in the Spring Concert Series.
This is Lizzy Hoyt’s second trip to the East Kootenays. She was last here February 2016 to perform with the Symphony of the Kootenays at her World Premier of Canadian Folk Sketches. Lizzy on guitar, fiddle and vocals this time around was accompanied by Josh McHan on upright Double Bass and her long time guitar and Mandolin player Chris Tabbert.
From her bio…. “Lizzy Hoyt is one of Canada’s most powerful Celtic-folk artists. Known for bringing Canadian history to life with music, her songs like “Vimy Ridge”, “White Feather”, and “New Lady on the Prairie” that have garnered awards and nominations while also connecting strongly with audiences across the country. In 2013, Lizzy was awarded the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee Medal by the Governor General of Canada for her outstanding contribution to commemorating Canadian veterans and history through music.
Like her encore of Danny Boy the entire concert on Saturday night was outstanding. The group opened the evening with a set of foot stomping fiddle tunes followed by The Star of the County Down. In concert Lizzy offers the complete Celtic package from Fiddle tunes, well known ballads such as Out on the Mira (from Nova Scotia), The Banks of Loch Lomond and onto some original songs like New Lady of the Prairie, White Feather, and Vimy Ridge. Tucked into the mix was even the country classic Jolene. Each performance was a sparkling jewel of polished musicianship. The program choice was great, the accompanying musicians were spot on with great Bass playing by the Edmontonian jazz musician Josh McHan and Chris Tabbert playing his Russian Stalin Era Mandolin (he found in a junk shop amid a bunch of old accordions). Lizzy played and passed around her wonderful custom Collings guitar for Chris to use when she was playing fiddle. Her fiddle of choice for the evening was a Mezzo Forte carbon-fibre instrument. The only thing missing from the evening was her Celtic Harp performances. Unfortunately the instrument was laid up and need of some repair.
Conversations in the audience indicate that this was the best ever performance at Studio 64 and for that we should thank the organizers, volunteers and sponsors for all the dedication and good work.
Danny Boy – Lizzy with a nice guitar arrangement with moving bass lines
Newen Afrobeat is an Afrobeat band that started in 2010 in Chile. The word Newen means ‘strength’ in the Chilean Mapuche language. Afrobeat is the music genre that involves elements of West African musical styles, such as Fuji music and Highlife, with American Funk and Jazz influences. There is a focus on chanted vocals, complex intersecting rhythms, and percussion. The term was coined by the controversial Nigerian political activist and bandleader Fela Kutii (15 October 1938 – 2 August 1997). Afrobeat is characterized by fairly large bands with multiple percussion instruments, including the the indigenous Shekere, keyboards, interlocking melodic West African guitar and bass guitar riffs, horn section and vocals. The overall sound is one of a riff-based “endless groove”. As with Fela Kuti, Newen Afrobeat uses the two baritone saxes in the horn section to add bottom end drive to the music.
Below are a couple of links to performances by Newen Afrobeat and like most West and Central African musical styles the rhythmic complexity and rhythmic drive is infectious.
If this music appeals to you check out the other African styles such as Soukous, Highlife, Juju, the Congalese Rhumba styles, etc; There is a whole world of African musical delights out there, and a lot of it is on YouTube, so go and enjoy. And, take note that without Africa there would have been no ragtime, no jazz, no blues, no calypso, no reggae, no Bossa Nova, and no rock and roll….etc. Basically no Western pop music as we know it.
If there is ever a right person at the right place at the right time then Jacinda Kate Laurell Ardern is it. She is the current Prime Minster of New Zealand, one of the youngest leaders on the world stage with a political style and personal popularity that must be the envy of politicians everywhere. Oh, by the way she gave birth to a baby while in office. Here is a clip of Jacinda in action at the UN during the same session that was also addressed by Donald Trump. What a contrast between her lucid, positive logical speech and Donald Trump’s boorish presentation filled with negativity. The contrast of a passionate young woman versus the tired rhetoric of a fat old white man is so glaring that it is easy to believe that the USA Empire is in decline.
New Zealand is incredibly fortune to have Jacinda at the helm during the Christchurch Massacre. Her empathy with the victims, her swift condemnation of racism and almost immediate implementation of strict Gun Control can only be praised and admired.
Politically this is what she is about (Wikipedia):
Ardern has described herself as a social democrat, a progressive, a republican and a feminist citing Helen Clark as a political hero, and has called capitalism a “blatant failure” due to the extent of homelessness in New Zealand. She advocates a lower rate of immigration, suggesting a drop of around 20,000–30,000. Calling it an “infrastructure issue”, she argues, “there hasn’t been enough planning about population growth, we haven’t necessarily targeted our skill shortages properly”. However, she wants to increase the intake of refugees.
Ardern believes the retention or abolition of Maori electorates should be decided by Māori, stating, “[Māori] have not raised the need for those seats to go, so why would we ask the question?” She supports compulsory teaching of the Maori language in schools.
On social issues, Ardern voted in favor of same-sex marriage and believes abortion should be removed from the Crimes Act. She is opposed to criminalizing people who use cannabis and has pledged to hold a referendum on whether or not to legalize cannabis in her first term as prime minister. In 2018, she became the first prime minister of New Zealand to march in a gay pride parade
Referring to New Zealand’s nuclear-free policy, she described taking action on climate change as “my generation’s nuclear-free moment”.
Ardern has voiced support for a two state solution to resolve the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. She has condemned the deaths of Palestinians during protests at the Gaza border.
The accused perpetrator of this horrendous act in Christchurch, New Zealand (Friday, March 15, 2019) is a 28 year old Australian. Why did it take place in New Zealand and not Australia? This is conjecture on my part, but I think the answer to the question may be fairly simple – the gun laws in Australia are more stringent than in New Zealand. He may have had easier access to his weapons of choice in a country that has an entrenched gun culture. For many years New Zealand has had an eradication policy for all non-indigenous animals that have proven to be detrimental to the ecology of the islands. These include pigs, possums, deer and other species. The result is that recreational hunting is a way of life for a significant number in the community. There are huge recreational and commercial interests at stake in any discussion of gun control and these interests resist any restriction on the ownership and use of guns. To get some idea of the commercial interest at stake, in the early 1970s there was a newspaper article on the commercial hunting of deer in the South Island. Commercial venison providers would drop freezer units and staff into select locations to dress slaughtered animals for export as frozen venison. To achieve maximum use of resources hunters would go into remote valleys in military style gunship helicopters and with automatic weapons shoot animals from the air. The article went on to state that as many as three thousand animals a week were being taken out of some of these valleys. This was (is) big business. So with the potential push back by recreational hunters and commercial operations it is easy to see why there has been some difficulty in reforming gun laws.
Prior to 1996 Australia did have, and possibly still has a significant gun culture, who oppose gun law reform. But that all changed in 1996. Around April 28-29 of that year a gunman armed with a semi-automatic rifle went on a rampage in Port Arthur, Tasmania, killing 35 and wounding 23 people. It was the deadliest mass shooting in Australian history. Over night it precipitated fundamental changes in the gun control laws of that country. Within 12 days of the incident John Howard, the Prime Minister of Australia, co-ordinated an agreement that created the National Firearms Agreement (NFA), also sometimes called the National Agreement on Firearms, the National Firearms Agreement and Buyback Program, or the Nationwide Agreement on Firearms. The laws to give effect to the Agreement were passed by Australian State governments only 12 days after the Port Arthur massacre. Despite lobbying against the NFA by The Christian Coalition supported by the US National Rifle Association the changes to the gun laws went ahead with broad support from all across the political spectrum and the community at large. The NFA placed tight control on semi-automatic and fully automatic weapons, but permitted their use by licensed individuals who required them for a purpose other than ‘personal protection’. The act included a gun buy-back provision. Some 643,000 firearms were handed in at a cost of $350 million. Numerous studies of the impact of the NFA have been either inconclusive or contradictory and yet, one study found that there were no mass shootings in Australia from 1997 through 2006.
Gun laws in New Zealand focus mainly on vetting firearm owners, rather than registering firearms or banning certain types of firearms. Over recent years there have been efforts to reform gun laws but these do not seem to have brought about significant change. The day after more than 40 (now updated to 50) were killed in mass shootings at two mosques in the worst terror attack in the nation’s history, The Prime Minister of New Zealand, Jacinda Arden in a press conference said “I can tell you one thing right now: Our gun laws will change”. She went onto to say “the suspected primary shooter used five guns, including semiautomatic weapons and shotguns, adding that he obtained a gun license in November 2017 and acquired the guns legally thereafter. That will give you an indication of why we need to change our gun laws.”
So, as Yogi Berra once said is this “Déjà Vu all over again”? In terms of political response one can hope so.
Post Christchurch Massacre – The Power of the Haka
“My name is Pauline Kotlarz and I am a Luthier. I was trained through the Violin Making School of America in Salt Lake City (2011-2014). Since then I have worked in a full repair and restoration shop in Wisconsin for the past three years while making new violins on the side. I have experience doing quality work on making, maintaining and repairing violins, violas and cellos. I’m originally from Cranbrook, and although it’s been a long and circuitous route to come home, I’m happy to be back and to offer my skills and services to any musicians in the area. Some common repair and maintenance services I offer include cutting new posts/bridges, fingerboard dressings, nut adjustments, peg fittings, clean&polish, new strings, varnish touch-ups, crack and seam gluing. There is no one-size fits all; everything is custom work according to the instrument and player. Verbal repair estimates are free and best done in person. I also sell my handmade violins and commercial violins with professional set-ups on a customer demand-basis. I am a small shop with limited inventory but will work with customers to procure stock items they desire at reasonable prices. My shop is based out of my home and by appointment only. I unfortunately do not work on fretted instruments (ie guitars, mandolins, etc) and I don’t do bow re-hairs; however, I’m happy to refer customers to luthiers experienced in those skills. I am passionate about what I do, and if I can be the catalyst for someone else’s improvement and enjoyment of playing music through application of my luthiery skills then I will have done my job.”
For consults and inquiries Pauline can be contacted by phone at (250)-464-0918 or by emailing her at email@example.com
The Piano Trio as a genre is a long established tradition in jazz. The first Trio of note was probably The Nat King Cole Trio in the late 1930s through the 1940s. Most audience think of Nat King Cole as the smooth voice, with perfect diction, pop crooner and TV star of the 1950s and 1960s. Most music patrons don’t realize that he was a major jazz pianist way before he became famous as a pop singer. For a time the format of his trio (piano / vocals , bass and guitar) pretty well defined the genre. Over the years many pianists including, Art Tatum and Oscar Peterson, have adopted that format. For whatever reason, the original iconic trio format has morphed into the Piano/Bass/Drums format of the modern era. Most jazz pianists at some time in their career front a standard Jazz Piano Trio. The Christian Mcbride Trio is one of many on the current jazz scene and, as if to break with tradition, the leader of this trio is not a pianist. Christian McBride is a bass player. This is a trio of young, highly trained and very skilled musicians.
Christian McBride (born May 31, 1972) is an American jazz bassist, composer and arranger. He is the “go to” bass player of the past decade and has appeared on more than 300 recordings as a leader and sideman. He is a six-time Grammy award winner. The pianist Christian Sands was born on May 22, 1989 and grew up in New Haven, Connecticut and later moved to nearby Orange. He started playing the piano at a very young age, and took lessons from the age of four; he commented that “I grew up with it in the house, in the classroom and on stage so it has always been a huge part of my life”. The drummer Ulysses Owens Jr. (born December 6, 1982 in Jacksonville, Florida) also is an American multi Grammy Award winner. Owens began playing the drums at the age of 2. He has played many types of music in his younger years, centering on his experience in the church. By the time he was in his early teens, he realized that he would become a jazz musician, and received a full scholarship to study at the Juilliard School. He is active on both the New York and international jazz scene as a sideman and band leader
There are many examples on YouTube of the trio performing in a variety of settings but here are three for your enjoyment.
A Footenote for pianists –
“The Medium is the message” …….. This catch phrase is from the writings of Marshall McLuhan. He coined it way back in the 1960s. I never really got “it” then and I am not even sure I get it now. However, the following is a reprint of an article that I came across recently and it goes a long way to explain the recent resurgence of interest in Vinyl Recordings.
Ask a record-collecting audiophile why vinyl is back and you may hear a common refrain: “Of course vinyl’s back! It’s a more accurate reproduction of the original! It just sounds better than digital!”
To this I reply, “Does it really, though? Or is it just EQ’d better? And since when did we start caring so much about the perfect fidelity of our recordings? I grew up—as did many of you—listening to cassette tapes on a boom box. They sounded horrible, and we loved them.”
I think the real reason for vinyl’s return goes much deeper than questions of sound quality. As media analyst Marshall McLuhan famously wrote, “The medium is the message.” In other words, “the form of a medium embeds itself in any message it would transmit or convey, creating a symbiotic relationship by which the medium influences how the message is perceived.” Nowhere does this hold truer than in the world of recorded sound.
The entire experience of vinyl helps to create its appeal. Vinyl appeals to multiple senses—sight, sound, and touch—versus digital/streaming services, which appeal to just one sense (while offering the delight of instant gratification). Records are a tactile and a visual and an auditory experience. You feel a record. You hold it in your hands. It’s not just about the size of the cover art or the inclusion of accompanying booklets (not to mention the unique beauty of picture disks and colored vinyl). A record, by virtue of its size and weight, has gravitas, has heft, and the size communicates that it matters.
Records, in all their fragility and physicality, pay proper respect to the music, proper respect to the past. They must be handled carefully, for the past deserves our preservation. They are easily scratched, and their quality is diminished as a result of those scratches. They are subject to the elements—left in the sun, they warp. Like living things, they are ephemeral.
While the process of launching Spotify and searching for a track (Any track! You have 30 million choices!) is clearly the most efficient means of listening to music, sometimes efficiency isn’t what the experience is about. Record albums are analog, the closest thing we have to the sound waves. These waves are coaxed out of a flattened, spinning disk of vinyl by a diamond. The diamond is literally taking a ride on the record. The bumps in the grooves push the diamond up and down. Everything about the process has a tactile physicality to it that differs in feel from digital services.
Steven Beeber, the vinyl aficionado and author of The Heebie-Jeebies at GBGB’s: A Secret History of Jewish Punk summed up the appeal of records this way: “As with so many things, the Luddites were right. The old ways were better. Vinyl has a richness and depth that digital media lacks, a warmth, if you will. And hell, even if it didn’t, it sure looks cool spinning on the table, and you’ve got to treat it with kindness to make it play right, so it’s more human too. As in our love lives, if you want to feel the warmth, you’ve got to show you care.”
Beeber’s last point hits at the crux of vinyl. The cumbersome process of putting on a record is akin to a ritual, an experience that mirrors the care that artists took in creating the work. First you have to find the record—a treasure hunt which might take five or 10 minutes depending on the size and organization of your collection. When you find the record, you pull it out. You remove the album from its cover. (Or, if you’re a real stickler, you remove the album from the cover, still inside the inner sleeve. Because at some point you rotated the inner sleeve 90 degrees to prevent the album from accidentally slipping out. So you pull out the album in its sleeve.) Then you place the record gently on the turntable spindle: the hole so accurately punched that you need to push the album firmly down to get it to sit right.
The album and the turntable needle are both objects that demand your respect. The record must be freed of dust, so you get out your Discwasher D4+ System. You remove the wood-handled brush from the cardboard box. You remove the small red bottle of Hi-Technology Record Cleaning Fluid, along with the tiny red-handled needle brush, both of which are cleverly nestled inside the wooden handle. You gently sweep the needle with the brush, which produces a satisfying whooshing from the speakers.
Then you apply 3-6 drops of D4 fluid to the cloth-covered face of the wood-handled brush and rub it in with the base of the bottle. Then you place the wood-handled brush on the record, careful to orient the nap in the right direction. Then you lick a finger of the other hand, place it in the center of the record, and gently rotate the platter beneath the brush. When these tasks are complete, then—and only then—do you set the platter in motion and lower the needle—slowly, ever so slowly—onto the spinning vinyl disk.
And the music begins to play.
The record experience suggests a few possible lessons for user-interface designers:
1) Designing for multiple senses can be more powerful than designing for just one. This is why mobile apps that incorporate sound (button clicks, etc.) and tactile sensations (haptic feedback) in addition to visual cues create greater user delight than those that are purely visual.
2) Always design in a manner appropriate for the medium.
3) Always consider the user’s state of mind. Consider every aspect of their psychology and how it might relate to the experience at hand. For instance, a person might find one experience preferable to another, because it reminds them of their childhood, or because that’s how they’ve always done it. (Case in point: my mother always preferred grinding her coffee beans with a hand-cranked grinder, because that’s how she always did it—not because she thought that the beans tasted better.) There might also be a touch of rebellion in the act of rejecting today’s technology for a simpler tool that worked just fine, thank you very much.
Not everything in life is about ease and speed. Believe it or not, sometimes people want to take longer, particularly if an experience evokes a past memory, satisfies a deep-rooted need, or fills a behavioral gap. Make anything too easy and its perceived value declines.
Some people, some of the time want the process of listening to music to demand respect from them, to offer an embodied ritual that removes us for a time from the daily humdrum of our digital existence. Speed has its place, but time spent can signal value and create a pleasant weight of meaning. There’s a reason our religious services aren’t five minutes long, and we shouldn’t lose sight of that as digital technologies continue to dominate our lives.
The three DVD set Sound Breaking was released a couple of years back. It was marketed as “The art and evolution of music recording is one of the 20th century’s untold stories” and the set was meant to set the story straight. It achieved some of that but the story was heavily slanted towards pop music and pop culture. For me the first disc, with its explorations of the Beatles, is the most interesting, while the remainder of the set about, rap, hip hop, sampling, etc, is of no interest to me. Admittedly the object of the exercise was to explore the history of pop music but in doing so it omitted at least one of the recording industry’s most notable personalities – Rudy van Gelder. For those who are unaware of the name or his significance Rudy was responsible for recording a very significant slice of the jazz spectrum in the 1950s, 60s, and right up into the new century. He is the creator of what became known as the Blue Note Sound.
This is his Wikipedia entry:
Rudolph Van Gelder (November 2, 1924 – August 25, 2016) was an American recording engineer specialized in jazz. Regarded as the most important recording engineer of jazz by some observers, Van Gelder recorded several thousand jazz sessions, including many recognized as classics, in a career which spanned more than half a century. Van Gelder recorded many of the great names in the genre, including John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Thelonius Monk, Sonny Rollins, Art Blakey, Joe Henderson, Freddie Hubbard, Wayne Shorter, Horace Silver, Grant Green as well as many others. He worked with many record companies but was most closely associated with Blue Note Records. The New York Times wrote his work included “acknowledged classics like [John] Coltrane’s A Love Supreme, [Miles] Davis’s Walkin’, Herbie Hancock’s Maiden Voyage, Sonny Rollins’s Saxophone Colossus, and Horace Silver’s Song for My Father .
In this day and age of the resurgence of vinyl recordings I think this is one of his most significant comments:
“The biggest distorter is the LP itself. I’ve made thousands of LP masters. I used to make 17 a day, with two lathes going simultaneously, and I’m glad to see the LP go. As far as I’m concerned, good riddance. It was a constant battle to try to make that music sound the way it should. It was never any good. And if people don’t like what they hear in digital, they should blame the engineer who did it. Blame the mastering house. Blame the mixing engineer. That’s why some digital recordings sound terrible, and I’m not denying that they do, but don’t blame the medium.” (Audio Magazine 1995)
His fame still lives on and the following is a reprint of an article from the now defunct Audio Magazine. It has recently been resurrected resurfaced by the editorial staff at JazzProfiles. Steve Cerra introduces the article:
“I never thought much about the quality of the sound on the Blue Note LPs that I purchased in the 1950s and 60s. I didn’t need to. Blue Note’s sound quality was something that one could take for granted because the now, legendary Rudy van Gelder was the commanding force behind it and, as you’ll come to understand after reading the following interview, he obviously gave it a great deal of thought.
The sound on Blue Note’s albums had a “presence” that wrapped the listener in an audio environment which was dynamic and vibrant. The sound came forward; it reached out; it enveloped. Rudy made the sound seem as though it was emanating from musicians who were performing it in one’s living room. In a way, this is more than an analogy because Rudy’s initial recording studio was the living room in his parents’ home in Hackensack, NJ before he built his own studio in near-by Englewoods Cliffs, NJ.
Rudy doesn’t talk much about himself or his views on the subject of sound engineering. Fortunately, James Rozzi was able to interview him at length and publish Rudy’s responses to his questions in the November 1995 edition of the now defunct Audio Magazine.
The editorial staff at JazzProfiles thought this rare glimpse of Rudy van Gelder discussing himself and his technical approach to sound recording would make an interesting feature for its readers. It is hard to imagine let alone conceive of what The World of Jazz would have been like if Rudy Van Gelder hadn’t been around.
James Rozzi original article (copyright protected)
“Dr. Rudy Van Gelder’s formal education was in optometry, but his heart and the majority of his professional years have been devoted full-time to the recording industry. Ask any Jazz buff about Rudy, and they’ll name him as the recording engineer responsible for all those classic Blue Note and Prestige Records, among almost countless others.
This interview, one of the very few that Rudy has granted in his 40 plus years in the business, was conducted in his Englewood Cliffs, NJ studio, a gorgeous facility just across the George Washington Bridge from Manhattan. I thank him for sharing his history and his views.
It’s a given in the Jazz world that you have set the standards for Jazz recordings for the past 40 years. In an ever-changing industry, how do you continue to maintain consistent quality in your recordings?
I prefer to do my own masters, my own editing. By ‘my own,’ I mean, I want it to be done here. It’s not that I influence what it is. It’s just that I need to be involved in the whole process – up to and including the finished product – in order to give my clients what they expect of me, which is the reason why they are coming here. They agree upon that before we can do anything. This is really the only major stipulation I have, that I do the process. It’s not because it is expensive, because the expense is minimal. I purposely keep it that way because I don’t want the money to be a part of their decision. The point is that I’d like to have at least some measure of control over the finished sound before it’s sent for replication to the plant.
This is contrary to the way most studios work.
The business, at least from my point of view, has really become fragmented – more like the movie industry. There are engineers who do Jazz recording who don’t own the studio and don’t have anything to do with the maintenance, ownership or operation of the studio. They just go to a studio as a freelance engineer and use the facility for their own clients. Obviously, this is not the situation here. I own the studio, I run the studio and I maintain it. It’s my responsibility, I’m here everyday, not somebody else. It reflects me.
Being involved in the complete digital post-production is highly unusual for any studio. Would you please explain it?
Once we have gotten to the point of recording and mixing the two-track tape that has all of the tunes the client wants for the CD, the next step is to get together with the producer or the musician, whoever is in charge of the project – and sequence it. We have to put the tunes in the order that they will appear in on the CD, get all the timings in between the songs precise, and takes all the noises out. As for the medium for that, the most common medium is DAT [digital audio tape]. Now most people – including musicians and producers, except for those who work here – believe that this is a master tape. That format was not designed to be and is incapable of being a master. There are other elements required for CD replication that cannot be incorporated into a DAT. There is just no room on a DAT for the information which tells your CD player to go to track one when you put a CD in and press “play.” The information that makes this possible has to be incorporated on the CD. The DAT must be transferred to another medium that incorporates this information. This studio uses a CD-R. Prior to the CD-R, 1630 was the de facto standard. I consider that now obsolete. Most recording studios do not get involved in this process.
If most recording studios don’t get involved in digital post-production, then how is it commonly done?
The very fact that most recording studios don’t care to do it has created the existence of what are called mastering houses. They don’t have studios. They don’t even have a microphone. They just put the numbers on there and then transfer from one medium to another.
Why are you so concerned with accomplishing this process yourself? Isn’t the equipment expensive?
Yes, it’s very expensive, very difficult to acquire and maintain. The problem is that there can be processing at this stage, quite extensive processing.
Intentionally changing the sound from that of the DAT?
Intentionally changing the sound! Changing the loudness to softness, the highs to lows. Yes, it’s a very elaborate procedure; it is a part of the recording process that most people don’t even know exists.
Who is responsible for making the decision to alter the sound at this late a stage in the recording process?
Whoever is following the course of the project, usually whoever is paying for it or their representative. I’m now defining why I insist on doing everything myself. And you can extend this into the reissue process too. Reissuing is nothing but post-production. The people who were originally involved in the recording are no longer there, or they no longer own it. These mastering decisions on reissues are being made by someone else, someone affiliated with the company who now owns the material.
What are your feelings on issuing alternate takes?
Now, to me that’s just a sad event which has befallen the record industry. The rejected outtakes have been renamed “alternate takes” for marketing reasons. It’s a disservice to the artist. It’s a disservice to the music. It’s also rampant throughout the land, and I’m just telling you how I feel about it. I would recommend to all musicians: Don’t let the outtakes get out of your hands. Of course, that may be easier said than done.
You must be disappointed by much of what has been released as alternate takes.
Yes, when I hear some of this stuff, I’m reminded of all the problems I had, particularly on these outtakes. It’s like reliving all of the difficulties of my life again. So I don’t take a lot of pleasure in that because I know I can do a lot better now, and all that does is reinforce my uneasiness. Of course, when it was a recording problem, the music was usually still so good that it was worth it to me. And the fact that it’s still being heard— in many cases being heard better than ever before—is an incredible experience. And it’s clean, with no noise. I don’t like to complain too much.
I feel that way very often myself, the way you described, being able to hear the music better than ever. I’m not a person who locks into the sound as closely as I do the music. The music is all-important to me, but sometimes I become distracted by how bad the sound is. It seems that a big problem in translating those old recordings onto CD is the sound of the bass. It becomes very boomy.
Well, you can’t blame that entirely on the people who are doing the mastering. That particular quality is inherent in the recording techniques of the time—the way bass players played, the way they sounded, the way their instruments sounded. They don’t sound like that now. The music has changed the way the artists play. Now everything has got to be loud. A loud .drummer today is a lot louder than a loud drummer of 30 or even 20 years ago. It’s all relative. But as far as that certain quality you’re talking about, some of it is very good, by the way. There were some excellent bass recordings made at that time because the bass player and I got together on what we were trying to do.
Considering the reverence given to the historical Blue Note recordings and the fact that they were accomplished direct to two-track, do you get many requests nowadays to record direct to two-track?
Usually they say, “I want to go direct to two-track like the old days.” And I say, “Sure, I’ll do that.” I can still do it, or we can record to the 24-track digital machine. As far as the musicians are concerned, regarding their performance out in the studio, that’s transparent to them. There’s no difference in the setup. I sort of think two-track while I’m recording and actually run a two-track recording of the session, which very often serves as the finished mix. But this is the real world now. The musicians will listen to the playback, and the bass player will say, “Gee, I played two bad notes going into the bridge of the out-melody. Can you fix that, Rudy?” Now, it used to be that when a client asked for a two-track session, I would never run a multi-track backup. They didn’t want to get involved in it, for money reasons. They didn’t want to spend the money for the tape or didn’t want to have to mix it after the session. I went along with that for a long time. But the bass player would still come in, hoping to fix wrong notes, and I’d sit there like a fool and say, ‘Well, I can’t do anything about it. The producer didn’t want to spend the money for multi-tracking.’ So I decided I wasn’t going to do that anymore. I think of it as a two-track date— we’re talking about a small acoustic jazz band now, not any kind of heavy production thing—and I run a multi-track backup. Then when the bass player asks to fix a couple of notes, I look at the producer or whoever is paying for the session, and that becomes his decision, not mine. He now has to answer the bass player.
So the final product may consist of both multi-track and two-track recordings?
That happens. Right. And my life is a lot happier. And the producers have come around a little bit too.
How did you first become affiliated with Alfred Lion of Blue Note Records?
There was a saxophone player and arranger by the name of Gil Melle. He had a little band and a concept of writing, and I recorded him. This was before I met Alfred. I recorded it in my Hackensack studio in my parents’ home. So somehow—and I was not a party to it—he sold that to Alfred to be released on Blue Note. And Alfred wanted to make another one. So he took that recording to the place he was going. It happened to be in New York at the WOR recording studios. He played it for the engineer, who Alfred had been using up until that time, and the engineer said, “I can’t get that sound. I can’t record that here. You’d better go to whoever did it.” Remember, I wasn’t there; this is how it was related to me. And that’s what brought Alfred to me. He came to me, and he was there forever.
Those Blue Note records, they’re just so beautiful…. Masterpieces.
Did Alfred and you work at producing those jazz masterpieces? Did he have you splice solos?
Yes, he did. He was tough to work for compared to anyone else. He knew what he wanted. He knew what that album should sound like before he even came into the studio. He made it tough for me. It was definitely headache time and never easy. On the other hand, I knew it was important, and he had a quality that gave me confidence in him. The whole burden of creating for him—what he had in mind—that was mine. And he knew how to extract the maximum effort from the musicians and from me too. He was a master at that. I think one of the reasons our relationship lasted so long was because he listened to what other people were doing parallel to our product. I don’t believe he ever heard anything that was better than what we were doing. I have no doubt that if he had heard someone doing it better than what I was doing, he would have gone there. But he never did, and that made it possible for me to build this studio. I knew he was always there.
Once you developed that sound, you knew exactly what to do initially. When the musicians walked in, you knew right where everything should be regarding microphone placement and all of that. And you went from there. From that point, it was just minor alterations according to that session.
That’s very well put, and do you know why that was? Because Alfred used to come here often. He used to bring the same people out in various combinations. They all knew what I was like. Everybody would come in and know exactly where their stand was, where they would play. It was home. There were no strangers. They knew the results of what they were going to do. There was never any question about it, so they could focus on the music.
Then when Bob Weinstock of Prestige Records started with you, there was that whole crowd of musicians, sometime crossing over personnel.
Well, Weinstock would very often follow Alfred around, but with a different kind of project in mind. And you know, when I experimented, I would experiment on Bob Weinstock’s projects. Bob didn’t think much of sound; he still doesn’t. He doesn’t care. So if I got a new microphone and I wanted to try it on a saxophone player, I would never try it on Alfred’s date. Weinstock didn’t give a damn, and if it worked out, great. Alfred would benefit from that.
I’ve always thought of the Prestige dates as a more accurate indication of what was happening in the clubs. Although I know that after a Blue Note session wound down, the musicians could go out into the clubs and play original tunes, with Prestige it was mostly standards. That’s what they went out and jammed on. And that deserves documentation as well.
Absolutely. I agree with that, and I’ve said so, though not as well as you did. I wouldn’t want the world to be without them. There are people who say that the difference between Blue Note and Prestige is rehearsal. That’s just glib. That’s bullshit. That’s not even a fair way to put it. It resulted in a lot of my favorite recordings. You know, those Miles [Davis] Prestige things … they can’t hurt those things. It’s really one of the most gratifying things I’ve done, the fact that people can hear those. It’s really good.
When you were in the control booth listening to the sessions, were you ever aware that those sides would end up as classics?
Well, you can’t see into the future. I had no way of knowing that. But I knew every session was important, particularly the Blue Note stuff. The Blue Note sessions seemed more important at the time because the procedure was more demanding. But in retrospect, the Prestige recordings of Miles Davis, the Red Garland with Philly Joe Jones, the Jackie McLean and Art Taylor, the early Coltrane—sessions like that—turned out to be equally if not more important. I always felt the activity we were engaged in was more significant than the politics of the time, to the extent that everything else that was happening was unimportant. And I still feel that way. I treat every session … every session is important to me.
Have you done any classical or pop?
There was a long period of time parallel to those years when I was working for Vox, a classical company. I would get tapes from all over Europe and master those tapes for release in this country. I did that for 10 years or more. So I had three things going: Blue Note, Prestige, and Vox. Each of them was very active. And I did some classical recordings: Classical artists, solo piano recordings, a couple of quartets.
How about pop?
A lot of that popular stuff came with Creed Taylor later in the ’70s. He was oriented more toward trying to commercialize jazz music. You’re familiar with his CTI label? That’s another world altogether. That’s when we started to be conscious of the charts. I love the sound of strings, particularly the way Creed Taylor handled them with Don Sebesky. And I love an exciting brass sound too. Creed is a genius as far as combining these things that we’re talking about. I’m not at all isolated in the world of a five-piece be-bop band. As a matter of fact, sonically, this other thing is more rewarding.
What are your feelings on digital versus analog?
The linear storage of digital information is idealized. It can be perfect. It can never be perfect in analog because you cannot reproduce the varying voltages through the different translations from one medium to another. You go from sound to a microphone to a stylus cutting a groove. Then you have to play that back from another stylus wiggling in a groove, and then translate it back to voltage. The biggest distorter is the LP itself. I’ve made thousands of LP masters. I used to make 17 a day, with two lathes going simultaneously, and I’m glad to see the LP go. As far as I’m concerned, good riddance. It was a constant battle to try to make that music sound the way it should. It was never any good. And if people don’t like what they hear in digital, they should blame the engineer who did it. Blame the mastering house. Blame the mixing engineer. That’s why some digital recordings sound terrible, and I’m not denying that they do, but don’t blame the medium.
A lot of people argue that digital is a colder, sterile sound. Where do you think that comes from?
Where does it come from? The engineers. You’ve noticed they’ve attributed the sound to the medium. They say digital is cold, so they’ve given it an attribute, but linear digital has no attributes. It’s just a medium for storage. It’s what you do with it. A lot of this has to do with the writing in consumer magazines. They’ve got to talk about something. What should be discussed is the way CDs are being marketed as 20-bit CDs, but there is no such thing as a 20-bit CD. Every CD sold to the public is a 16-bit CD. You can record 20-bit and it is better than 16-bit, but it has to be reduced to 16-bit before you can get it onto the CD. History is repeating itself. It reminds me of when they marketed mono recordings as “re-mastered in stereo.” All they did was put the highs on one side, put the lows on the other, and add a lot of reverb to make it believable. Then they’d sell it as a stereo record.
Do you feel today’s jazz musicians stack up to the players of the 1950s and ’60s, Blue Note’s heyday?
Well, there are a lot of great kids around. You know, technically they’re great. I feel they’re suffering from a disadvantage of not being able to play in the kind of environment that existed then. You don’t want me to make a broad statement saying, “Gee whiz, it was better 20 years ago than it is now.” First of all, I don’t believe that. I don’t even think of it that way.
Do you see yourself as a technician and an artist?
Absolutely. When you mention the technical end, the first thing I think of is making sure all the tools are working right. The artistic part is what you do with them. The artistic part involves everything in this place. There’s nothing here that isn’t here for an artistic reason. That applies to the studio. The whole environment is created to be artistic. It’s my studio and it’s been this way for a long, long time, and people like it. It’s even mellowed through the years, and people are aware of that. Musicians are sensitive to that. Someone came in here only yesterday and said: ‘If the walls could only repeat what has happened here ….’”
Posted by Steve Cerra (copyright protected)
As I have previously posted a similar blog some time back I can be accused of belaboring the point. That is probably true. However, I think it is important that the reputation of a sound engineer of such prime importance as Rudy van Gelder should not be shuffled aside.
I have very fond memories of New Zealand. While en route to Canada in 1971 I spent over a month hitch hiking around the islands enjoying the scenery and the incredible hospitality of the people. It was my first brush with real snow capped mountains and the New Zealand version of Bush Walking known locally as Tramping. I returned there several years later with my life partner and 12 month old son. This time, once again, about to head back to Canada. We really liked New Zealand and “the itch” to travel just wouldn’t go away. We ended up in Kimberley, B.C. for a few years and finally decided to take a year long sabbatical and New Zealand was the obvious destination. We both liked the place and there were opportunities for both of us to find gainful employment. It was an opportunity for my wife to get back into the work force as a Registered Nurse. We wandered around the North Island for a bit and settled in Whangerei for the best part of six to eight months. I played the house parent, read lots of books about the Islands, while Mae (my wife) worked at the local hospital. The climate was great, the people and life style relaxing but still we had “the itch” . We decided to move around a bit while still searching for more adventure and another place to work. We headed down the North Island to finally end up is Gisborne on the East Cape. There I had a sort of revelation. Standing on the beach at Gisborne while looking east I realized that there was no significant land mass until you hit Chile in South America. Looking south there was no significant land mass until you reached the frozen landscape of Antarctica. Looking north, for all intents and purposes, there was nothing until you reached Asia. We were standing on the edge of the world. And it really felt like it. The sensation was almost over whelming. With the island at our back the great wide Pacific Ocean stretched North, South and East for thousands and thousands of kilometers’. I found that intimidating. Somewhat humbled by the experience we head back into more populous region of the island. We decided that Rotorua and the Bay of Plenty area possibly offered the best chances for employment and, that may have been true, but the catch in the scheme was trying to find a place to live. We could not find a place to put down even temporarily while looking for employment. Staying in hotels was not an option. Despite the attractions of this heartland of Maori culture we decided that with only a few months of the sabbatical left we should head off and visit relatives in Australia. With some reluctance that is what we did.
New Zealand must be one of the few places in the new world where the indigenous people and culture have left an acknowledged mark on the white man. Over the two centuries of contact the white inhabitants of New Zealand have been enriched with an infusion of Maori culture. So when I recently stumbled on the following YouTube videos of the Maori Haka it all came flooding back.The kids singing mass in Maori; the Polynesian rhythms that infuses jazz bands that play in the pubs; The incredible musicality of the Maori; The young Maori with tribal tattoos; It was like I was still there. When I watch these videos and I immediately get choked up almost to point of tears.
For those that are unaware ….. “The haka is a ceremonial dance or challenge in Maori culture. It is a posture dance performed by a group, with vigorous movements and stamping of the feet with rhythmically shouted accompaniment. Although commonly associated with the traditional battle preparations of male warriors, the Haka have been performed by both men and women, and several varieties of the dance fulfill social functions within Māori culture. Haka are performed to welcome distinguished guests, or to acknowledge great achievements, occasions or funerals.
New Zealand sports teams’ practice of performing a haka before their international matches has made the Haka more widely known around the world. This tradition began with the 1888-89 New Zealand Native Football Team tour and has been carried on by the New Zealand Rugby Union Team (“All Blacks”) since 1905.” …. Wikipedia.
I offer them to you for your enjoyment………
The Islands of New Zealand are at the end of the earth but still well worth an extended visit. If this has whetted your appetite for New Zealand I suggest the Film Once Were Warriors. It is a wonderful movie, a little dark perhaps, but well worth finding and watching.
post script: The power of the Haka after the Christchurch massacre