Saturday, February 29, 2020

Jaki Byard (1922-1999): Legendary, iconic, and innovative musician, composer, arranger, ensemble leader, music theorist, producer, and teacher

SOUND PROJECTIONS



AN ONLINE QUARTERLY MUSIC MAGAZINE



EDITOR:  KOFI NATAMBU



WINTER, 2020



VOLUME EIGHT  NUMBER TWO

 
HERBIE HANCOCK

Featuring the Musics and Aesthetic Visions of:


RICHARD DAVIS
(February 22-28)

JAKI BYARD
(February 29-March 6)

CHARLES LLOYD
(March 7-13)

CHICO HAMILTON
(March 14-20)

JOHNNY HODGES
(March 21-27)

LEADBELLY
(March 28-April 3)

SIDNEY BECHET
(April 4-April 11)

DON BYAS
(April 12-18)

FLETCHER HENDERSON
(April 19-25)

JIMMY LUNCEFORD
(April 26-May 2)

KING OLIVER
(May 3-9)

WAR
(May 10-16)




Jaki Byard 

(1922-1999)

Artist Biography by


Hi-Fly
The late Jaki Byard was, arguably, the most versatile pianist in jazz, though he also played trombone and was an excellent tenor saxophonist. Born in 1922, he grew up during the golden era, and while younger than Duke Ellington, he embraced, as had his predecessor, all of the changes the music went through, from its origins in New Orleans through the free improvisation era. Byard would, in a single solo concert, reveal his truly awesome mastery of the aforementioned styles, as well as R&B, stride, swing, funk, blues, honky tonk, and the extreme arpeggios of Art Tatum. But Byard's style was completely his own, developed from his early days playing with Earl Bostic in the late '40s and early '50s. After leaving Bostic, he played with Herb Pomeroy and Maynard Ferguson until he won a spot in the legendary Charles Mingus band of 1962-1964 along with Eric Dolphy. He also recorded with Dolphy and Booker Ervin, as well as Charlie Mariano and Rahsaan Roland Kirk. One of his notable achievements was as the pianist in the Mingus band that tore apart concert halls all over Europe in 1964. Between 1961 and 1972, he issued a string of his own dates for Prestige (Hi-Fly, Here's Jaki, and Out Front! among them) and other labels; they embody his finest work, with a rhythm section that included Richard Davis and Alan Dawson, though he never made a bad record. Byard became an educator in the early '70s (after another collaboration with Mingus in 1970), teaching at Harvard, the Hartt School of Music, and the New England Conservatory, and he recorded and performed intermittently the world over until his death from a gunshot wound in 1999.

https://jakibyard.jazzgiants.net/biography/

Jaki Byard

Legendary Jazz Pianist                               






Biography

John Arthur “Jaki” Byard (pianist, multi-instrumentalist) was born on June 15, 1922 in Worchester, Massachusetts and passed away on February 11, 1999 in New York City.
Byard grew up in a musical family. His father had been a member of marching bands around the turn of the century, playing both the trumpet and the trombone. His mother was a piano player at the African Methodist Episcopalian Zion Church. His grandmother played the piano at silent picture shows, and set him on an early start on his way to a career in music. As silent picture shows were replaced with the technological advances of the “talkies,” or movies with their own sound, her job grew obsolete, and she was able to bring the piano from the silent movie house to their home. Byard began playing the piano around the age of six, and when he turned eight, a piano teacher named Grace Johnson began giving him lessons. His mother encouraged the boy’s interest in music, listening to jazz music on the radio and, when she was able, providing him with opportunities to go and see some of the great jazz musicians when they were playing nearby. “My mother used to give me seventy-five cents to go see the bands that were playing at Quinsigamond Lake—ten cents for the streetcar each way, fifty cents to get into the dance, five cents for a coke,” he told Royal Stokes in an article on Jazzhouse. org. “I would walk to the dance so that I could drink five cokes. I’d stand in front of the band all night and listen. Fats Waller, Lucky Millinder, Chick Webb with Ella Fitzgerald, the Benny Goodman Quartet with Teddy Wilson, Lionel Hampton, and Gene Krupa. That would be about 1936. And I was tuning in on the radio broadcasts of the big bands from hotels, 11:30 p.m. to 2:00 a.m. Ellington, Basie, Fatha Hines, Jimmie Lunceford, Benny Carter. Those were the things that inspired me.”
Jaki Byard at Bach Dancing & Dynamite Society, Half Moon Bay CA 1/28/79
By age 16, Byard had his first professional job as a musician. In 1941 he moved from Worcester to Boston in an attempt to further his career. However, as the United States was entering into World War II, Byard was drafted into the Army. Fortunately, he met other musicians, including drummer Kenny Clarke and piano player Ernie Washington. He decided to join the army band, but since the band already had a piano player, Byard took up the trombone.

He was discharged from the Army in 1945 and returned to Boston, where he studied music on his own, particularly the styles of his two favorite players, Bud Powell and Errol Garner. He quickly began to find work in the Boston area. By the late 1940s, he had worked with tenor saxophonist Sam Rivers in his band, and had worked with violinist and trumpeter Ray Nance in society jobs. In 1949 he joined alto saxophonist Earl Bostic in his band. His talents were in great demand, and he also began teaching others, despite never having had formal training of his own.

In 1955 Byard joined trumpeter Herb Pomeroy’s band as a tenor saxophone player. He also began composing and arranging music for the group. After a few years, he returned to solo piano playing. He moved to New York City and recorded his first solo album, Blues for Smoke, in 1960. He also played in the band of trumpet player Maynard Ferguson before finally joining up with jazz composer and bass player Charles Mingus. Mingus had a great influence on Byard, constantly pushing him to try new rhythms and harmonies.
jaki_Byard4
In 1960 Byard played on woodwind master Eric Dolphy’s recording, Outward Bound. Dolphy then assisted Byard in a relationship with Prestige Records that resulted in Byard’s release of Here’s Jaki in 1961. Then he recorded with Mingus on The Complete Town Hall Concert and Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, as well as The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady. In 1963 he worked and recorded with Booker Irvin, a tenor saxophone player. He also worked with other music greats, including Don Ellis, Charlie Mariano, and Booker Little.

In 1965 he connected with another multi-instrumentalist, Rahsaan Roland Kirk. In 1966 he won the Down Beat Jazz Poll Award for most promising musician of that year. Byard joined the faculty at the New England Conservatory in 1969, after an invitation by its president, Gunther Schuller, to head up the school’s jazz teaching. He taught there until 1977, while also teaching classes and lecturing at other schools, including the Manhattan School of Music, Bennington College, Hartford School of Music, Brooklyn Conservatory, University of Massachusetts, Harvard University, University of Pittsburgh, University of Maryland, and Bismark Jr. College. He was asked by Mercer Ellington to sit in for his father, Duke Ellington, when the Duke was ill. He received the Duke Ellington Fellowship Award from Harvard University in 1973.

In the mid-1970s, Byard decided to form a big band from a group of his students. He named it the Apollo Stompers. At one point, he made up two bands from his student groups, with each group sitting on opposite sides of the stage. “I called it the Stereophonic Ensemble,” he joked to Royal Stokes, “and the effect was very interesting because I could bring that band down and this band up and you could hear the difference—just like listening to a stereophonic performance. That was one of my dreams.” He then decided to put together another band by the same name with a group of musicians he knew in New York.
Jaki_Byard_Tommy_Flannigan
In 1983 People stated, “As a solo pianist, Byard mixes his styles liberally, not only from song to song but often within songs.” In 1986 People again reviewed his work, this time evaluating Rhythm is Our Business, which he recorded with Jordan Sandke. “Crossing generational and stylistic lines with gleeful disregard, this album is an engaging bit of chamber jazz,” the article stated. “The group wanders happily from New Orleans style to swing to bop.” In 1995 Mayor Rudolph Giuliani presented him with an award during the 100th anniversary of Harlem Week, for his work with the Apollo Stompers. Byard’s influence on the music world was that of a true musician. Throughout his lifetime he mastered the piano, trumpet, trombone, bass, vibes, drums, and saxophone. He was a lifelong student who continued to learn about music, even while he taught others. Byard’s wife, Louise, had passed away previously in 1994, but he left behind three children, Denise, Diane, and Gerald, as well as four grandsons and six great grandsons.

https://musicians.allaboutjazz.com/jakibyard#news

Jaki Byard Jaki Byard




A musician that has spanned the generations of Jazz is Jaki Byard. Jaki Byard was born John Arthur Byard, Jr. on June 15, 1922 in Worcester, Massachusetts. His father was a member of the marching hands at the turn of the 20th century and played the trombone. His mother played the piano for the African Methodist Episcopalian Zion Church (AME). His maternal grandmother played the piano for the silent picture shows (visual movies without sound before “talking movies” were invented). It was on that piano that Jaki began his musical odyssey. When he was 8 years old, he started taking piano lessons from a piano teacher named Grace Johnson. The swing rhythm of the time and the lure of the big bands inspired Jaki throughout most of his career.

At the age of 16, he played his first professional engagement. During WW II, Jaki was drafted into the army, but with luck and circumstance, he was able to join the army along with Earl Bostic, with whom he would later form a musical alliance with.

By the time he was in his late-thirties, Jaki had a recording contract with Prestige records who engaged him in many recording sessions which allowed him the freedom to have his own compositions heard. It was also around this time that he performed with Charles Mingus as part of an ensemble that featured among its players many fabulous musicians: Eric Dolphy, Jack De Johnette, Johnny Coles and Bobby Jones, who toured Europe and made some great sounds and history. During the 1960's, he saw great success, and all of his albums received mostly 3-4 star ratings in DownBeat magazine. In 1966, he won the Down Beat Jazz Poll Award for most promising musician of that year. In 1979, his 21-piece big band, The Apollo Stompers was voted the Best House Band in New York City while playing at Ali's Alley, a club in downtown New York. On his own, Jaki was to win numerous awards and citations for his music and contributions to teaching and dance from many major academic institutions. He always felt “academia” as he put it was very important. A most cherished and proud moment for Jaki was when he was asked by Duke Ellington's son Mercer to sit in for Duke as part of his orchestra while the Duke was ill.

He was presented with an award by the Duke Ellington Society for his performances. In February of 1988, he was also presented with an award from the Mayor for Outstanding Contribution in Black Music and Presence in Boston (the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Award). He has the key to Worcester, New Orleans, and many peoples hearts. In 1995, a year after the death of his beloved wife, Louise (my mother), he was presented with an award by then Mayor Rudolph Guliani for his work with the Apollo Stompers in recognition of Harlem Week and its 100th anniversary. And while Jaki won many awards, the most cherished for him was the honor he gave to himself and others when he could write a tune for someone he loved or for a passing whimsy or idea that would send him to the piano with a pencil and composition paper, and it was this love that he did transmit through all of his performances dosed with his outstanding wit and humor.

The sixties and seventies saw a moderate amount of success on the entertainment level. Jaki turned back to teaching and academia in the late mid 1970s, 80's and 90's with occasional recordings in between. In the early 1970's he accepted a position at the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston, Massachusetts where he would stay for over a decade teaching both in the curriculum and privately. Some of the other schools that he taught at were The Hartt School of Music, Northeastern University, Bismark State College, Alma Lewis School of Fine Arts in Boston, The New School in New York City, The Brooklyn Conservatory of Music in Flushing, and lastly The Manhattan School of Music in New York City. He also never had enough time for his parcel of private students who would gladly, trek out to his home in Hollis, Queens for their one on one lessons.

Around 1979-1982 Jaki, along with some other local musicians (among them, percussionist/composer/friend! JR Mitchell, bassist Peck Morrison, vibraphone keyboard player Dwight Gassoway, saxophone player Harold Ousley and bassist Larry Ridley) formed an organization called the Unification of Concerned Artists in the hopes of creating more recognition and engagements for New York-based musicians whose gigs were just too far and few between. As with most endeavors of this sort, things panned out well for a while, but somehow survival happens and time had to be spent on that. I used to transcribe the minutes at the monthly meeting of the Board of Trustees, and in retrospect I can say that we really did try to create some openings. I think that if more time could have been devoted to his effort, it, too would have succeeded.

Jaki's career that spanned over six decades was still going strong. He was still recording and still arranging, composing and teaching. In February of 1999, he was invited to conduct a seminar and play at the Berkley School of Music in Boston, Massachusetts. He never did make it to that engagement. However you define success, for Jaki Byard, being able to play his music for the joy, the creativity, the fun and the teaching of it was all that really mattered to him.

Jaki Byard died (tragically) on February 11, 1999. He was 76 years young and still had much to offer the music and artistic community.

Tribute to Jaki Byard

Written by Diane Jamila Byard and Prof. JR Mitchell

A musician that has spanned the generations of Jazz is Jaki Byard. Jaki Byard was born John Arthur Byard, Jr. on June 15, 1922 in Worcester, Massachusetts. His father was a member of the marching hands at the turn of the 20th century and played the trombone. His mother played the piano for the African Methodist Episcopalian Zion Church (AME). His maternal grandmother played the piano for the silent picture shows (visual movies without sound before "talking movies" were invented). It was on that piano that Jaki began his musical odyssey. When he was 8 years old, he started taking piano lessons from a piano teacher named Grace Johnson. The swing rhythm of the time and the lure of the big bands inspired Jaki throughout most of his career.
At the age of 16, he played his first professional engagement. During WW II, Jaki was drafted into the army, but with luck and circumstance, he was able to join the army along with Earl Bostic, with whom he would later form a musical alliance with.
By the time he was in his late-thirties, Jaki had a recording contract with Prestige records who engaged him in many recording sessions which allowed him the freedom to have his own compositions heard. It was also around this time that he performed with Charles Mingus as part of an ensemble that featured among its players many fabulous musicians: Eric Dolphy, Jack De Johnette, Johnny Coles and Bobby Jones, who toured Europe and made some great sounds and history. During the 1960's, he saw great success, and all of his albums received mostly 3-4 star ratings in DownBeat magazine. In 1966, he won the Down Beat Jazz Poll Award for most promising musician of that year. In 1979, his 21-piece big band, The Apollo Stompers was voted the Best House Band in New York City while playing at Ali's Alley, a club in downtown New York. On his own, Jaki was to win numerous awards and citations for his music and contributions to teaching and dance from many major academic institutions. He always felt "academia" as he put it was very important. A most cherished and proud moment for Jaki was when he was asked by Duke Ellington's son Mercer to sit in for Duke as part of his orchestra while the Duke was ill.
He was presented with an award by the Duke Ellington Society for his performances. In February of 1988, he was also presented with an award from the Mayor for Outstanding Contribution in Black Music and Presence in Boston (the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Award). He has the key to Worcester, New Orleans, and many peoples hearts. In 1995, a year after the death of his beloved wife, Louise (my mother), he was presented with an award by then Mayor Rudolph Guliani for his work with the Apollo Stompers in recognition of Harlem Week and its 100th anniversary. And while Jaki won many awards, the most cherished for him was the honor he gave to himself and others when he could write a tune for someone he loved or for a passing whimsy or idea that would send him to the piano with a pencil and composition paper, and it was this love that he did transmit through all of his performances dosed with his outstanding wit and humor.
The sixties and seventies saw a moderate amount of success on the entertainment level. Jaki turned back to teaching and academia in the late mid 1970s, 80's and 90's with occasional recordings in between. In the early 1970's he accepted a position at the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston, Massachusetts where he would stay for over a decade teaching both in the curriculum and privately. Some of the other schools that he taught at were The Hartt School of Music, Northeastern University, Bismark State College, Alma Lewis School of Fine Arts in Boston, The New School in New York City, The Brooklyn Conservatory of Music in Flushing, and lastly The Manhattan School of Music in New York City. He also never had enough time for his parcel of private students who would gladly, trek out to his home in Hollis, Queens for their one on one lessons.
Around 1979-1982 Jaki, along with some other local musicians (among them, percussionist/composer/friend! JR Mitchell, bassist Peck Morrison, vibraphone keyboard player Dwight Gassoway, saxophone player Harold Ousley and bassist Larry Ridley) formed an organization called the Unification of Concerned Artists in the hopes of creating more recognition and engagements for New York-based musicians whose gigs were just too far and few between. As with most endeavors of this sort, things panned out well for a while, but somehow survival happens and time had to be spent on that. I used to transcribe the minutes at the monthly meeting of the Board of Trustees, and in retrospect I can say that we really did try to create some openings. I think that if more time could have been devoted to his effort, it, too would have succeeded.
Jaki's career that spanned over six decades was still going strong. He was still recording and still arranging, composing and teaching. In February of 1999, he was invited to conduct a seminar and play at the Berkley School of Music in Boston, Massachusetts. He never did make it to that engagement. However you define success, for Jaki Byard, being able to play his music for the joy, the creativity, the fun and the teaching of it was all that really mattered to him.
Jaki Byard died (tragically) on February 11, 1999. He was 76 years young and still had much to offer the music and artistic community. And while his death was a tragedy, his life was full of dreams coming true, wonderful times and lasting relationships. Five years later, as his only surviving daughter, I only wish that he could have had his last wish which was to buy a boat. Not a big wish to have. I would like to think that maybe he did buy that boat and that maybe our dreams do not die with us, and that maybe he's just sailing right through heaven now, listening to the music he admired, gigging with his departed fellow musicians and enjoying the high seas of heaven as only he could. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of him. Everytime I do though, it is mostly with a gladness that I can't explain. I guess because he was a happy, humorous individual, a joyous upbeat person and perhaps the most positive person I have ever known and whose inspirations, love and kindness will live in my heart forever.
                               --Diane Byard

In memory of Jaki Byard: family man, musician, composer, teacher, and friend.

Site content © 2016 jakibyard.org, all rights reserved. Photos, music clips and other properties used with permission.  info@jakibyard.org

https://www.nytimes.com/1999/02/15/arts/jaki-byard-a-jazz-musician-and-teacher-is-dead-at-76.html

    Jaki Byard, a Jazz Musician And Teacher, Is Dead at 76

Jaki Byard, a pianist, saxophonist and teacher who recorded with some of jazz's most important figures, died on Thursday in his house in Hollis, Queens. He was 76.
Police are investigating the death of Mr. Byard, who was found shot in the home he shared with his two daughters. Denise Byard-Mitchell, one of his daughters, said the family was baffled by the killing, and that she and other family members had been home when Mr. Byard died and had heard nothing.
Mr. Byard was an extremely important figure in modern jazz for several reasons. In his playing he spanned the history of jazz, and his improvisations, filled with quick stylistic changes, moved from boogie-woogie to free jazz. He was a stylistic virtuoso, his fecund imagination saw comparisons and contrasts everywhere, and his improvisations were encyclopedic and profound. He also had a sense of humor that rippled through everything he played.
''I played Bud Powell solos, and that was a phase,'' Mr. Byard once said in an interview with one of his students, the saxophonist Marty Ehrlich. ''Then there was Garner, and that was a phase, and then Tatum, and then finally I decided to put everything together and say the hell with it, this is it.''
It made him the perfect accompanist for two of the more well versed musicians of modern jazz, Charles Mingus and Rahasaan Roland Kirk, and Mr. Byard was one of the few jazz pianists capable of keeping up not just with their stylistic references, but also with their humor and volcanic intensity.
Mr. Byard also taught for several decades and brought his cross-generational sensibility to his students. The re-evaluation of jazz history that began in the late 1970's and early 1980's was partly due to Mr. Byard's encouragement and example.
Mr. Byard was, early in his career, an integral part of a little-known jazz scene in Boston. During the late 1940's he worked with the tenor saxophonist Sam Rivers in a band, and worked society jobs, sometimes with the violinist and trumpeter Ray Nance.
He then took a job with the alto saxophonist Earl Bostic in 1949, and when he returned to Boston he performed as a solo pianist, and later joined the big band led by Herb Pomeroy, one of Boston's most important bands.
In 1959 he joined Maynard Ferguson's orchestra for two years. Also that year he met the saxophonist Eric Dolphy, and recorded with him on the album ''Outward Bound.''
In 1961 Dolphy procured Mr. Byard's first recording date for Prestige records, producing ''Here's Jaki,'' which featured the Boston-based drummer Roy Haynes. Mr. Byard also worked with the innovative trumpeter Don Ellis. For the rest of the 60's Mr. Byard became the pianist of choice for one of jazz's many vanguards.
In the early 1960's he started recording with Mingus, and his playing can be heard on ''The Complete Town Hall Concert,'' from 1962, and the two classic albums Mingus recorded for Impulse, ''Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus'' and ''The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady.''
In 1963 he recorded and worked with the tenor saxophonist Booker Irvin, another Mingus associate, and with Charlie Mariano. Two years later he began an association with Kirk, recording and performing with the saxophonist.
During this time Mr. Byard began teaching at the New England Conservatory of Music, where he became an important figure in jazz education. He recorded regularly until his death, and when Duke Ellington became ill at the end of his life, filled the piano chair in the Ellington Orchestra. In the late 1970's Mr. Byard led the Apollo Stompers big band in Boston and New York, and he continued teaching at the New England Conservatory and at the Manhattan School of Music, along with stints at Bennington College, the Hartford School of Music, the Brooklyn Conservatory, the University of Massachusetts and others.

In addition to Ms. Byard-Mitchell, he is survived by another daughter, Diane, and a son, Gerald, all of Hollis, Queens, four grandsons and six great-grandsons.

A version of this article appears in print on , Section B, Page 8 of the National edition with the headline: Jaki Byard, a Jazz Musician And Teacher, Is Dead at 76.

https://www.nepr.net/post/jaki-byard-eclectic-and-everlasting#stream/0

Jaki Byard: Eclectic and Everlasting


 
June 15, 2017 
New England Public Radio 
I spent a horribly jazz-deprived time in Eugene, Oregon, in 1977, where the only saving grace was the Prez Records shop, which was named for Lester Young and operated by a true believer. But over the length of the fall semester, there was only one area performance by a jazz combo. It was led by the late Stan King of Portland, and given the subject of this blog, it's worth noting that it featured Marty Ehrlich, who was just then emerging from the New England Conservatory, where he was a star pupil of Jaki Byard. When I flew into Boston for the Christmas holidays that year, I made sure to arrive on a Wednesday so that I could see Byard leading his big band, The Apollo Stompers, which had formerly included Ehrlich, at Michael’s Pub on Gainsborough Street. The band was stocked with NEC students, and even though they were young and unseasoned, under Jaki’s direction they congealed into a dynamic outfit with a fascinating repertoire. (Byard also maintained a New York edition of the Stompers that was staffed by professionals and recorded for Soul Note Records.)
Before leaving for the West Coast that summer, Michael’s had been a regular stop for me on Wednesday nights. The place was a shot-and-a-beer dive with leaky ceilings and overhead steam pipes under which spaghetti pots were strategically placed to collect dripping water. Students from nearby NEC and Northeastern wandered in at night and spruced it up a bit, and the Stompers gave it a big lift on Wednesdays. 

As tired as I was upon my arrival at Logan that December night, I was determined to get to Michael’s, but no sooner had I arrived and grabbed a chair near one of the sputtering radiators in the rear than I fell asleep. How long I spent in the land of nod I don’t recall, but what awakened me was Jaki, who though best known as a pianist, was playing his old standby, “When Sunny Gets Blue,” on alto saxophone-- right in my face! Whether this was the same method he used to get the attention of students dozing in class I don’t know, but it sure snapped me out of my slumber and into a dream come true, a personal wake-up call from Prof Byard.
June 15 was John Arthur Byard’s 95th birthday anniversary. Like me, he was born in Worcester, and he blazed his own trail out of town, so I’ve felt a desire to celebrate Jaki ever since I became aware of him. I love his eclecticism, his unpredictability, his restless engagement with tradition, his humor, even his sarcasm, which he displays in a twelve-second intro to a Thelonious Monk medley he played at Maybeck Recital Hall in 1991. Jaki tells the audience, “There was a composer in Paris [who] was commissioned to write a composition for some big shot for the left hand, so I’m going to do this thing just with my left hand only,” then proceeds into “’Round Midnight.” Jaki’s “big shot” rings with a Worcester-accented clarity that resonates with the kinds of taunts I heard on the streets of my old hometown. 

Chet Williamson, the Worcester-born jazz harmonica player, has been a custodian of Byard’s legacy since his death by gunshot at his home in Queens in 1999. As the New York Times obituary by Peter Keepnews reported in 1999, "Police are investigating the death of Mr. Byard, who was found shot in the home he shared with his two daughters. Denise Byard-Mitchell, one of his daughters, said the family was baffled by the killing, and that she and other family members had been home when Mr. Byard died and had heard nothing." The case remains "open" and unsolved eighteen years later.


Jaki Byard, age 16, lower right, with members of the Saxtrum Club, Worcester, 1938.
Williamson’s research and writings on Byard’s Worcester background, including his co-founding in 1938 of the Saxtrum Club, a cooperative established by the city’s black musicians, and a video-taped symposium he hosted on Byard at WPI in 2001, are a cornerstone of WPI's Jazz History Database. Here’s a montage he put together of images from Jaki’s Worcester days.

In a 1979 interview with W. Royal Stokes, Jaki discussed his early experiences seeing bands in the mid '30s. "My mother used to give me seventy-five cents to go see the bands that were playing at Quinsigamond Lake -- ten cents for the streetcar each way, fifty cents to get into the dance, five cents for a coke. I would walk to the dance so that I could drink five cokes. I'd stand in front of the band all night and listen. Fats Waller, Lucky Millinder, Chick Webb with Ella Fitzgerald, the Benny Goodman Quartet with Teddy Wilson, Lionel Hampton, and Gene Krupa. That would be about 1936. And I was tuning in on the radio broadcasts of the big bands from hotels, 11:30 p.m. to 2:00 a.m. Ellington, Basie, Fatha Hines, Jimmie Lunceford, Benny Carter. Those were the things that inspired me. I guess it stuck with me." (Incidentally, Stokes  continually refers to Jaki's hometown as Boston rather than Worcester, New England's second largest city 40 miles to the west.)

Byard also figures prominently in a lively and resourceful book by Richard Vacca, The Boston Jazz Chronicles: Faces, Places, and Nightlife 1937-1962.  Vacca’s chapter on Byard begins with Nat Hentoff’s assertion that Jaki “was a pervasive influence on nearly every young Boston jazz musician who was interested in discovering new jazz routes.” Following his Army service in World War II, Byard toured with Earl Bostic, then was on the Boston scene throughout the late '40s and ’50s where he played with Ray Perry, Jimmy “Bottoms Up” Tyler, Herb Pomeroy, Charlie Mariano, Sam Rivers, and Jimmie Martin’s 17 Exponents of Bebop, a band that included Gigi Gryce and Joe Gordon. He led his own trio at Wally’s, a big band at the Buckminster Hotel, and was the “intermission pianist” at the Stable in Copley Square. He was also at the center of activity at the Melody Lounge in Lynn, a venue favored by the modernists. (Danvers-born piano phenom Dick Twardzik, who died from a heroin overdose at 24 in Paris while touring with Chet Baker, was often there too.)

During his Boston years, two of Byard's compositions were recorded. "Diane's Melody" (named for his wife, and one of numerous works dedicated to family members) was introduced on Serge Chaloff's 1955 album, Boston Blow-Up. Three years later, “Aluminum Baby,” appeared on Herb Pomeroy's big band album, Life Is a Many-Splendored Gig. Jaki plays tenor on the date while another Boston legend, Ray Santisi, is at the piano. Here it's played by Fred Hersch and the NEC Jazz Orchestra. 

Jaki's legacy is also the raison-d'etre of Yard Byard, a quintet featuring George Schuller on drums, Jamie Baum, alto flute, Jerome Harris, guitar, Ugonna Okegwo, bass, and Adam Kolker, tenor saxophone/bass clarinet. Here they play Byard's "Inch By Inch."

Byard went on the road in 1959 with Maynard Ferguson’s big band as pianist and arranger. The following year, aged 38, he recorded his first album, Blues for Smoke, which Nat Hentoff produced for Candid. In December 1960, he played on Eric Dolphy's album Far Cry, which introduced two of Jaki's most celebrated compositions, "Mrs. Parker of K.C.," and "Ode to Charlie Parker." It also introduced Byard to Prestige Records, the label he would record several outstanding albums for over the next decade. In 1962, he joined Charles Mingus, with whom he toured extensively until Mingus took a break from the scene around 1967. Given their mutual interest and deep knowledge of pre-modern jazz styles and post-modern concepts, they were a natural match, and his association with Mingus remains the most prominent of Byard's career. Jaki arranged several pieces, including “Meditations on Integration,” for the landmark concert and album Mingus at Monterey. Most of the horn players on Byard's Prestige albums, Dolphy, Richard Williams, Booker Ervin, Jimmy Owens, and Roland Kirk, were also Mingus associates.
Here’s Jaki with Mingus, Dolphy on bass clarinet, Clifford Jordan on tenor saxophone, Johnny Coles on trumpet, and drummer Dannie Richmond playing “Take the A Train.” Note the look of delight on Mingus's face (at 3:23) as Jaki grunts his way through a solo that displays his patented command of keyboard styles from stride to bebop to avant-garde.

Speaking of routes, one of the most impressive of Byard’s compositions is “European Episode,” which he recorded with tenor saxophonist Booker Ervin and trumpeter Richard Williams in 1964 on Out Front! The work was composed as a dance suite in six parts inspired by a European sojourn that wound its way from Brussels to Paris to Milan. Jaki’s boyhood friend Don Asher, who wrote of the transforming influence Byard had on his young life in his superb memoir Notes From a Battered Grand, describes “European Episode” as “kaleidescopic…a hurly burly of urban streets in a lively excursion of shifting tempos, rhythms, and evocations.” 

In Notes From A Battered Grand, Asher says he first encountered Jaki at Dominic's Cafe, a “bucket of blood” on Worcester’s east side. He recalled Byard as a “a big heavy-shouldered fellow in blue shirt and brown pants. His eyes seemed remote, inwardly focused as he played, and his smooth, plump, sweating face glistened with ardor and tension.” In due time, he persuaded Jaki to give him lessons, of which Asher wrote, “Every Friday afternoon I went straight from high school to Jaki Byard’s house on Carroll Street. I arrived at 1:30, and when I left the shadows were lengthening…If members of his family needed the parlor, we’d go down the street to the Saxtrum Club, a converted store that was a place to hang out and jam for Central Massachusetts musicians and road bands coming through…Roy Eldridge dropped by, and Anita O’Day, Gene Krupa, Cozy Cole, Frank Sinatra. Jaki, at 18, was the club’s resident luminary and official host. On nights when there were no sessions at the Saxtrum, he would lock the door early from the inside…and he’d practice on the ancient upright all night—scales and exercises…random excursions and improvisations mingling with snatches of Bach and Chopin. If he knew there was someone listening outside the door—and before midnight there was often a knot of us, like kids huddled around a bakery shop drawn by the rumor that free samples might be given out—he’d slide into some whomping, way-back whorehouse piano, a big, pumping, joyous sound, and in our imaginations it was like being present at a spectacular parade, hearing a whole history of the music from the New Orleans cribs and levees on up the river.”

Byard returned to Boston in 1969 at Gunther Schuller’s request to establish the Afro-American Music department (now Jazz Studies) at NEC, and he also taught at the Hartt School at the University of Hartford, the New School, and the Manhattan School of Music. Among the well-known musicians who credit Byard as a teacher and mentor are Ricky Ford, Marty Ehrlich, Jason Moran, and Alan Pasqua. 18 years after his death, Byard’s legacy remains significant and cherished at NEC. In a note to Jaki’s daughter Diane on this YouTube clip of Byard’s performance at the Pittsburgh Jazz Festival, Pasqua writes, “Your father changed my life by encouraging me to move to Boston to study with him. When I got there, he was there for me, in every way. It was not lip service. He was my friend and mentor.” Pasqua has been in the news this month as the pianist who accompanied Bob Dylan on his Nobel Prize speech. Read a New York Times feature on Alan here. In a comment for this article, Marty Ehrlich said, "The man was touched by genius. Musicians all knew it…He was not cut out to conquer the world. We are all the beneficiaries of his generosity and brilliance."

Pianist Jason Moran, who succeeded Billy Taylor as the advisor for jazz at the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, spoke last month about the four years he spent as Jaki's student at the Manhattan School of Music.

The late George Russell, another legend among NEC faculty, offered this knowing appreciation of his colleague. “Jaki Byard always personified the past, present and future of jazz, wherever or whenever one might have been fortunate enough to experience his challenging ideas. An icon in the history of jazz, Jaki was Art Tatum, Earl Hines, Bud Powell, Ran Blake, Cecil Taylor, and Bill Evans, all in one. Yet, like these fellow icons, he was his own uncompromising, unique, living entity. He isn’t a household name, but most likely his low profile is the result of an irresistible need to constantly reinvent himself, the sure sign of the consummate artist. His history, from Boston’s Storyville to the countdown year of the millennium, leaves us with a rich history of his music, his life and times, allowing us to experience the intense struggle of a dedicated artist to keep his essence alive while still making us laugh with him along life’s corridor. There will never be anyone who can take his place.”

Byard is the subject of a film directed in 1979 by Harvard student Dan Algrant. Anything For Jazz includes Ron Carter and Bill Evans speculating on why Byard isn't better known, and footage from Ali's Alley in New York and Michael's Pub. Jaki plays Charles Mingus's "Fables of Faubus," and conducts the Apollo Stompers in a performance of "I May Be Wrong (But I Think You're Wonderful)." Home movie footage of Jaki's family walking along a beach is seen while he plays a new composition dedicated to his mother, mother-in-law, and newly born grandson. If you look closely, you can also read the fine print on Western Union telegrams from Earl Bostic and Billy Eckstine requesting Jaki's services. And the film concludes with a reflection that could only have been made by an artist who understand what mattered most. "I tell my students they'll never be a success if they write like me, but you'll be a success for yourself."






December 20, 2018


Jaki Byard: Anything for Jazz


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Back in the early 1980s, I'd head down to Barry Harris's Jazz Cultural Theater on New York's Eighth Avenue in the 20s to hear Jaki Byard & the Apollo Stompers. As I recall, you never knew who you'd see in the band. There often were guys in the trumpet section who played Broadway shows. But the biggest surprise of all was hearing Byard play the piano. There was a lot of abstraction in his attack, but there always was a traditional jazz core. Byard was an exceptional technician, a rambunctiously creative player and a mischief-maker on the keyboards. In some ways, his artistry was a fascinating mash of Thelonious Monk, Charles Mingus and Erroll Garner. All were widely admired players, but all brought a vivid sense of humor to the fore.


Last week, director Raymond De Felitta passed along a link to Anything for Jazz, a short 1980 documentary on Byard based on film that director Dan Algrant gathered in the late 1970s. There are even two clips of Bill Evans talking about Byard. Evans looks very ill, so I suspect the interview was conducted in late 1979 or early '80. A reminder of what brilliant jazz artists sacrificed for the music and the suffering many black artists endured from a lack of widespread recognition and praise. A good way to end the week.

Here's the documentary on Jaki Byard...







Tribute to Jaki Byard

jaki byard
Jaki Byard was my teacher. When he was shot to death in his house in early 1999, New England Conservatory, my esteemed alma mater, solicited reminiscences from those who knew him. The following was my contribution. I post it here so that I, in a small way, might help to keep Jaki’s unjustly under-appreciated memory alive.

Memories of Jaki

 

Jaki Byard is the reason that I became a jazz pianist. When I was around seventeen, a friend of my folks gave me three records: an Art Tatum and a Miles Davis (pretty safe bets), and, for some reason, a Phil Woods record on which there was this pianist playing like some kind of maniac (I mean that as a compliment). Reading the liner notes, I learned that he (Jaki) taught at New England Conservatory, whereupon a voice in my head said, “You mean you can actually STUDY with someone who plays like THAT? I’ve got to check that out.” And within two years I was doing just that. There are teachers who have strong methodologies, although you might not care for them as artists, or even as people. And there are teachers who may not have strong methodologies, yet , because of their incredible instrumental and musical prowess, you cannot help but to absorb something positive. Then there are those teachers who possess neither great pedagogy nor virtuosity, but who are such wonderful souls that you learn about the attitude, the philosopy, the approach to being a more complete musician; a more complete person. To me, Jaki had all of those fore-mentioned positive attributes. He was quite organized in getting you started with his harmonic and technical concepts, and his critiques, although fairly succinct, could be quite piquant. There is one that lurks in the back of my mind like some sort of silent policeman each time I poise my hands over the keys. He once asked me what I thought I was doing wrong, and, after several futile guesses, he said “It’s your sound. Always try to get a good sound out of the piano.” How simple. Yet, up until then, I thought that if you played cool voicings in your left hand (with some sharp 9ths or flat 13ths), and played lots of diminished and pentatonic licks in your right hand, you were pretty much set. Sound production? That was for horn players and string players. Now, if I catch myself getting an ugly sound, I pull in the reins until I can fix it. As a pianist, of course he was awesome. My lessons featured a lot of two-piano duets, and I remember trading choruses of 12-bar blues with him in every key, thinking, “Here we go. Jaki will now kick Jeremy’s butt in Blues in B.” But it was so much fun. Those of us with “conservatory training” tend to overemphasize the more challenging aspects of music while forgetting that music, at its core, should be enjoyable. A joy to play and a joy to hear. With Jaki, I never saw the joy not there.
jaki ByardThings written about Jaki usually refer to his “encyclopedic knowledge” of jazz piano. I would agree with that. But, to hear him play, it was never like, “I shall now play like Erroll Garner. Next, I will demonstrate the style of McCoy Tyner. And won’t you be impressed as I reference Henry Cowell.” There are pianists who can leave you with that impression. But, with Jaki, it was more like he was fluent in many languages, and, using himself as a filter, he had a wider variety of ways to impart his ideas and gestures. And always with his puckish sense of humor at the ready. There is a record on which he is playing some seriously stomping stride when he screeches to a halt in mid-phrase, pauses a few seconds, then launches into about eight measuires of Chopin before resuming his previous stride extravaganza. Pure genius. I am much more likely to listen to what someone is saying if I am convinced that they don’t take themselves too seriously. I guess that is why Jaki was such a great teacher for me.

Jaki Byard changed my life.
And I know that I’m not the only one.
By Jeremy Kahn
Click here to access
The New England Conservatory’s webpage

https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1999-feb-16-mn-8529-story.html

John ‘Jaki’ Byard:

Eclectic Jazz Pianist and Composer




John A. “Jaki” Byard, eclectic jazz pianist, composer and teacher who recorded with such luminaries as Charles Mingus and Rahasaan Roland Kirk, has been found shot to death. He was 76. Byard was shot in the head Thursday in his home in Queens, N.Y., which he shared with his two daughters. The family said no shots were heard, and a police investigation is continuing. His life and his music paralleled the evolution of jazz. Byard was known for a remarkable ability to work in any style--from boogie-woogie to free and modern jazz--and to relate to audiences of all ages as well as to his far younger students. Born in Worcester, Mass., Byard grew up in a musical home--his mother played piano, his father played baritone horn in a marching band--and he became a fixture in the little-known but important Boston jazz scene. He studied piano and trumpet as a child, and later added saxophones, the trombone, guitar and drums.
Byard played trombone while in the Army during World War II, then returned to Boston to work with tenor saxophonist Sam Rivers in a band. He toured and recorded with alto saxophonist Earl Bostic, worked as a solo pianist and played tenor sax in Herb Pomeroy’s big band and later Maynard Ferguson’s orchestra. In 1961, Byard recorded “Here’s Jaki,” featuring drummer Roy Haynes. Throughout that decade, he became a popular piano accompanist for major recordings by Eric Dolphy, Don Ellis, Booker Irvin, Charlie Mariano, Mingus and Kirk, among others. Byard began his teaching career in the late 1960s, working at the New England Conservatory of Music, the Manhattan School of Music, Bennington College, the Hartford School of Music, the Brooklyn Conservatory and the University of Massachusetts. In the 1970s, Byard organized and led his own big band, the Apollo Stompers. He continued to perform, record and compose pieces such as “Aluminum Baby,” encompassing a variety of jazz styles. Byard’s humor came through in his compositions and delivery. During a concert in New York City in 1989, he pounded discordantly through a portion of his “Family Suite,” then turned characteristically to the audience and deadpanned: “That’s a family argument.” Highly respected as a musician and musical educator, Byard was chosen to take Duke Ellington’s place at the piano in the Ellington Orchestra when the Duke was near death. Byard is survived by two daughters, Diane and Denise; a son, Gerald; four grandsons and six great-grandsons.

https://www.villagevoice.com/1999/03/09/jaki-byard-19221999/

Music

Jaki Byard, 1922--­1999


by






Lea was two months old the first time we took her to a concert.

Jaki Byard’s 1989 recital at Weill Hall. He sat at the piano and played a 10-note discord. She whimpered, looked distressed. But he followed instantly with a lambent stride passage. She raised her head and smiled, then fell into an hour’s sleep. I knew the feeling. Jaki never put me to sleep, but he always made me smile and frequently knocked me out. Listening to him was like turning on a tap in which all the strains of modern piano, from James P. Johnson to Cecil Taylor, flowed in one luscious rush. Yet having described the most obvious aspect of his playing, I feel obliged to backpedal from the old saw that his music stood for no more than a promethean eclecticism. The result was his own and unmistakable, by turns hard, percussive, witty, sentimental, sardonic, whimsical, subversive, ebullient, anguished. Like Sonny Rollins, he could fake you out— making you think, for example, that those corny arpeggios were a joke, so that you didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or grateful at the emotions he extracted from them.

Jaki died February 11, at 76, of a gunshot wound, in his home in Hollis, Queens, and rumors abound— an intruder, someone personally close, suicide. I can’t believe the last, though he was hit hard by the death a few years back of his wife, Louise, his devoted and amusingly acerbic companion of some four decades. He left two daughters, Denise and Diane, whose names and occasional singing are known to admirers of his compositions and recordings; a son, Gerald; and a passel of grandsons and great-grandsons. He also left an enormous number of students past and present, both institutional— eight years at the New England Conservatory of Music, four at the Hart School of Music, three a lecturer at Harvard, among other affiliations— and private, including Marty Ehrlich, D.D. Jackson, and a young musical therapist named Vanessa Kaster, who came to learn improvisation and said last week, “Every particle of him was music. Sometimes the lessons would last three hours. His clock wasn’t set to real time, only to music.”

I studied with him in 1974, when he was part of the faculty at Martin Williams’s critics colloquium at the Smithsonian; but I’d been studying his music long before that. In the mid ’60s, he was one of the pianists who regularly played the Village Gate mezzanine. If you were short on cash, you could sit at the bar and nurse a beer through several sets and no one bothered you. I loved trying to follow his stream-of-consciousness forays, medleys of songs and techniques— never dull, never indifferent. He was a master of stride, r&b, ballads, and free improvisation, a great Garner, Tatum, and Hines player; these were not affectations, but integral to what he knew and believed about piano. When Vanessa asked him about stride, he said it was no big deal, that you could find it in classical music, that it was all part of the piano repertoire. Still, what I liked best was what I came to think of as Jaki’s core style, a driven bebop linearity that ranged over the whole keyboard with a fierce purposefulness, every note struck like a hammer. He could make a piano roar. But as soon as you thought you knew the song, he turned the corner and you were in another country.

One night at the Gate, a little juiced-up Billy Eckstine wannabe who sang as “Junior Parker” and had no fixed address, just an oversized overcoat, walked in and asked to sing. Jaki shrugged, and soon Junior was there every night, arriving in the middle of the set to wail “Getting To Know You” in an impossibly slow, cellolike arrangement. Jaki included him and it on his next album, the irresistible Freedom Together!, after which Junior disappeared. On a college break, I went to the Gate to find Jaki no longer in residence, and asked if he was playing anywhere. “Oh, Jaki’s at the 82 Club,” someone said, giving me directions to the East Village. When I finally found the joint I was greeted by a midget transvestite who said he’d never heard of Jaki Byard but I was certainly welcome; I stomped out, annoyed at the joke played on me. Yearslater, I told Jaki. He said, “Man, you should’ve come in. Those were nice people. Actually, that was one of my better gigs.”

Which was probably true. He was briefly in the rotation at the Village Vanguard, but after 1970 I mostly heard him in restaurants or one-shot concerts— among them, encounters with David Murray, Greg Osby, and Archie Shepp. In later years, he was inconsistent, sometimes noodling in introspective meditation, waiting— Rollins-like— for the muse to jump-start him. He looked increasingly like a bemused bear, his hair a straightened thatch sprouting around his head, his face round and line-free, his expression quizzical. He loved big bands more than anything— he had come up with Herb Pomeroy in Boston (despite more than three decades in Queens, henever lost a scintilla of his accent), toured the country as pianist and arranger with Maynard Ferguson, worked closely with Charles Mingus (he arranged much of the 1964 Monterey concert), and occasionally subbed for an ailing Duke Ellington. Incredibly for a guy who struggled to get trio work, he organized a big band, theApollo Stompers— named, he was quick to point out, for the Greek god, not the theater. His final recording, made last spring and as yet unreleased, was his third with the orchestra.

Jaki will be best remembered, however, for the astonishing recordings he cut between 1961 and 1972, mostly for Prestige, though he insisted his personal favorite was a solo date for Futura in Paris (1971, never released here); and for piloting Richard Davis and Alan Dawson in one of the greatest rhythm sections ever assembled. If he never acquired a commensurate following, he was long a critical favorite and he had a loyal and imaginative producer in Don Schlitten, who assembled that rhythm section in 1963, for the first of the Booker Ervin “Book” LPs. Like Armstrong’s Hot 5 or Morton’s Red Hot Peppers, it existed only in the studio, but over the next decade it proved a telling alternative to HerbieRonTony, a combustible, cohesive, swinging unit that never tempered the individuals involved— you couldn’t believe what was going on in that cauldron.

Most of the albums are out of print, some for more than 15 years. But they’ve been slowly returning, one by one, and they merit reassessment. Jaki was the kind of musician who played “Giant Steps” slow (Here’s Jaki) and “Lush Life” fast (Out Front). On Hi-Fly, he disguises the title tune with a full-bore rhythmic buildup and makes James P. Johnson’s “Yamekraw” sound modern. He was also an exceptionally deep and versatile blues player, as you can glean by comparing “Searchlight,” “Out Front,” and “Freedom Together.” The untuned piano at a place called Lennie’s on the Turnpike inspired him (as did saxophonist Joe Farrell) to one bashing climax after another on the two volumes of Live! (a third volume was never released). For the full Byard effect, however, you must follow him into the twilight zone of Freedom Together! (Schlitten has always liked exclamation points); On the Spot! (the title track is brutal hard bop while “Alexander’s Ragtime Band” is r&b); the dazzling Jaki Byard Experience (with Rahsaan, a friskier companion to Kirk’s own Rip, Rig, and Panic); and the staggering Sunshine of My Soul, where his assimilation of Taylor is given free rein on “Sunshine” and “Trendsition Zildjian,” his fluent Tatum chops sweep through “Chandra,” and his own bopping proclivities erupt on “Diane’s Melody.” Jaki Byard With Strings! has “Cat’s Cradle Conference Rag,” in which the leader plays “Take the A Train,” Ray Nance plays “Jersey Bounce,” George Benson plays “Darktown Strutters Ball,” Richard Davis plays “Intermission Riff,” Ron Carter plays “Desafinado,” and Alan Dawson plays “Ring Dem Bells”— at the same time. A few complicated arrangements notwithstanding, that album is mostly an upbeat jam. His most resonant work is to be found on the lavishly varied recitals, Solo Piano, There’ll Be Some Changes Made, Duet! (an ardent collaboration with Earl Hines), To Them— To Us, At Maybeck. Perhaps, someday, even the Futura album he loved will cross the Atlantic. Jaki gave up waiting long ago; me, never.

https://soundamerican.org/issues/hyla/considering-jaki-byard

Considering Jaki Byard



by Jerome Harris










Today, when the info-tech "celestial jukebox" provides an unprecedented ease of access to the historical and geographic span of recorded music—often while stripping it of data that would give contextual meaning—we are reminded that it is the music that crosses, transcends, or illuminates the borders of categories like "style" or "genre" that may prompt re-consideration of what such categories mean, and how they might be fruitfully handled in the process of making resonant art. From this perspective, the work of pianist, composer, arranger and educator Jaki Byard sparks useful thoughts.

John Arthur "Jaki" Byard grew up in working-class Worcester, Massachusetts. He was raised in a rich African American musical milieu : Jaki's father played brass instruments, and both his mother and maternal grandmother played piano. He took music seriously from a young age, practicing assiduously, developing quickly, and performing locally on piano, trumpet, trombone, and tenor and alto saxophones. Jaki drew inspiration from big bands that performed in the area, as well as from recordings by Art Tatum, Count Basie, James P. Johnson, Fats Waller, Earl Hines, and many others. He transcribed big-band arrangements for local bands to play, eventually writing his own arrangements and compositions; he studied classical scores in local libraries; he studied with private teachers from time to time, and the skills he developed led to steady work in the fertile and robust jazz scene in 1950s New England, and, eventually, beyond.

From the early 1960s, Jaki garnered critical acclaim as one of the world's great jazz pianists, touring and recording as a bandleader, and as a valued sideman to Charles Mingus, Eric Dolphy, and Duke Ellington. He was also one of the first teachers that composer/conductor/scholar Gunther Schuller brought into the Afro-American Studies program—the world's first conservatory jazz studies department—at New England Conservatory of Music.
Jaki became renowned for his mastery of an unusually wide swath of jazz piano history : "two-fisted" ragtime and stride; Earl Hines–type "trumpet style" phrasing; a chord vocabulary showing deep knowledge of Ellington, Basie, Louis Moreau Gottschalk, and others; the bebop idiom that emerged in the 1940s; virtuosic arpeggio passages à la Chopin, Debussy, Rachmaninoff, and Art Tatum; and uses of dissonance that would not be foreign to Stravinsky, Bartók, or Cecil Taylor. Few jazz musicians of his time chose to integrate such a wide range of stylistic vocabulary so deeply into their personal dialect, or to wield it so freely as an expressive practice.

In his book Weather Bird : Jazz At The Dawn Of Its Second Century, Gary Giddins wrote about Jaki's historical knowledge, and its role in his iconoclastic style:
Listening to him was like turning on a tap in which all the strains of modern piano, from James P. Johnson to Cecil Taylor, flowed in one luscious rush. Yet having described the most obvious aspect of his playing, I feel obliged to backpedal from the old saw that his music stood for no more than a promethean eclecticism. His style was his own and unmistakable, by turns hard, percussive, witty, sentimental, sardonic, whimsical, subversive, ebullient, anguished.1
It is worth noting that Jaki formed his expressive approach during an era of significant change in African American musical culture. His early years as a professional performer were a time of regular work in non-formal venues : halls and clubs where audiences sought and expected entertainment that addressed the spirit and body along with the intellect; art that could surprise as well as soothe; music that could employ humor, and perhaps be danced to—as a student of his, I recall Jaki mentioning playing for "shake dancers"; later, he regularly worked with tap dancers such as Tina Pratt. Joy is a core value in much African American art, and it is certainly evident in Jaki's work. Coupled with his wide-ranging musical curiosity and openness, his embrace of joy is an element in the "free-wheeling" feeling found in much of his playing.
Jaki’s respect for—and intimate knowledge of—so much music led to a long career as an educator during the advent of formal college-level jazz instruction in the United States. In addition to his faculty position at NEC, he taught at the Manhattan School of Music, Connecticut's Hartt School of Music, and The New School for Social Research in New York. Among the generations of distinguished musicians who attest to his influence are several pianists who have become influential educators themselves : Hal Galper (The New School, Purchase College Conservatory of Music), Bruce Barth (Columbia University), Alan Pasqua (Thornton School of Music, University of Southern California), and Jason Moran (Artistic Director for Jazz at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts). Many non-pianists, including woodwind artists Jamie Baum, Marty Ehrlich, Ricky Ford, and Michael Moore, also claim Jaki as a formative influence on their musicianship and their artistic concept.

Pianist Fred Hersch, a twelve-time Grammy nominee, has written about his experience as a student of Jaki's at NEC:
He could play like Fats Waller or Bud Powell and demonstrate the mechanics of each technique. He had a profound and detailed understanding of why each pianist sounded the way he did—to this day I'm not sure where he got such vast knowledge. For that ability alone he was ideally suited to teaching. He was also funny as hell and great company. He taught from the deep well of experience he had accumulated over many years as a professional musician—he had a lot to teach . . . I learned a lot from Jaki simply being in his presence. As a musician and as a person his spirit was fearless—he didn't let stylistic constrictions get in his way of playing whatever he felt—and he was not the least bit ostentatious. He had an unmanicured view of jazz and life in general.2
In the course of a lesson with me, he might play in half a dozen styles. But no matter what tune he played or what style he played in, the music was definitely his. Jaki had his own approach to line, to rhythm, to color, and to touch. I learned quite a lot from watching him over the keyboard, playing piano duets with him, and just simply listening to him . . . what I took away from Jaki was what I learned being next to him while he played, watching him use the whole instrument, top to bottom, style by style, in a way that always had his own musical signature.3
Hersch and Giddins both highlight the presence of strong personal character, alongside a clear embrace and use of tradition, in Jaki's work. Over the years, some listeners seem to have missed that aspect of it ; typical of this view is Len Lyons's comment :
Of course, Byard has paid for his reliance on jazz tradition by giving up the pursuit of a clear stylistic identity for himself. It has hurt him commercially; the public, unless it is indulging in an occasional bout of nostalgia, demands individuality and novelty.4
Perhaps those listeners have been distracted, confused or challenged by Jaki's puckish and hurly-burly use of echoes of bygone times. Perhaps his disdain for pretension or his willingness to use humor led them astray, as Giddins points out :
Like Sonny Rollins, he could fake you out—making you think, for example, that those corny arpeggios were a joke, so that you didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or grateful at the emotions he extracted from them.5
I would suggest that the locus of this type of reaction is not so much the music itself ; rather, it is what the terms genre and style have come to mean for many listeners. Prominent elements of style and genre are often experienced as signifiers, "triggers" that elicit seductive surface-level association responses : "Look ! I know what that is ! That's old ; that's stride !" (or "that's 'bebop' or 'avant-garde'—or hip-hop, or classical, or . . . insert the genre label of your choice).
Composer/trombonist and Columbia University music professor George Lewis has spoken about another musician whose work has, in a somewhat different manner, engaged these concerns :
What's interesting about John [Zorn] is the way he has managed to confound ideas about genre and tradition in a very truthful way that opened things up for a lot of younger people," Mr. Lewis said. "The early jazz musicians would always tell you that you should listen to everything. John took that about as literally as can be.6
Much the same can be said about Jaki Byard. Elements of style—whether tied to place/time/identity/category, or unshackled from them—carry artistic content and expressive meaning that exist parallel to, and distinct from, such associations. Jaki Byard's work can fruitfully be viewed from this perspective : as music that playfully explores and illuminates the rich relationships among history, culture, group and individual identity, and human expressiveness.

The author gratefully thanks Marty Ehrlich for his contributions to this essay.

Falling Rains of Life by Chet Williamson, The Projects Publishing, Holliston MA, 2018  www.jakibyardbook.com) is a detailed biography of Jaki Byard, and was an valuable resource.

1. Gary Giddins, Weather Bird : Jazz At The Dawn Of Its Second Century (New York : Oxford University Press, 2004), 222.

2. Fred Hersch, Good Things Happen Slowly : A Life In and Out of Jazz (New York : Crown Archetype, 2017), eBook edition, 103-104.

3. Hersch, 107.

4. Len Lyons, The Great Jazz Pianists : Speaking of Their Lives and Music (New York : Da Capo Press, 1983), 186.

5. Giddins, 222.

6. Ben Sisario, “Lionized, but Restless as Ever”, New York Times, July 10, 2013.



Jaki Byard obituary


Play it cool and play it straight
by Ronald Atkins
18 February 1999 
The Guardian  (UK)

Stepping boldly into the future even when reworking the past, jazz pianist Jaki Byard, who has died aged 76, played everything straight - the reason why he is the godfather of the Wynton Marsalis generation. Now we are approaching the official centenary of the birth of jazz, its musicians are at an unprecedented ease with the past. Nobody thinks it odd if a pianist underpins melody with stride patterns or a boogie bass. When Byard did that 30 years ago, distinctions were drawn more tightly.

Byard was born in Worcester, Massachusetts, and for much of his life was linked professionally with Boston, where he worked and taught. His parents were keen on music and he studied piano. By the time he joined the army in 1941, and certainly when he left three years later, he could perform competently on a range of instruments.

In his early twenties, he was poised to make his mark on the beboppers of New York. However, the non-musical activities linked to New York’s underworld did not appeal, and he returned to Boston. He recorded with saxophonist Charlie Mariano, and toured with rhythm and blues legend Earl Bostic. By the early 1950s, he was revered around Boston as a teacher, and has been credited with crucial early input into the city which has since become probably the jazz education capital of the universe.

He worked and recorded with Herb Pomeroy’s orchestra, playing tenor saxophone as well as writing arrangements. Piano was always his main instrument and his first job with a nationally known leader came when he joined Maynard Ferguson’s big band. The 1960s brought a new kind of jazz, and Byard was in demand. Trumpeter Don Ellis used him on his first albums. The saxophone star Eric Dolphy did likewise, and helped him get a recording contract with Prestige. Dolphy may also have been influential in bringing him and Charles Mingus together, leading to what in terms of audience visibility became the pianist’s most important job.

He played on Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus and The Black Saint And The Sinner Lady, but is more prominent on concert recordings, including several made during a European tour of 1964. A blues called So Long Eric turns up several times; Byard always throws in bebop and block chords while the left hand takes turns with stride and Erroll Garner-type rhythms. Effortlessly eclectic, he was an ideal colleague for someone passionate about avoiding musical stereotypes, which is probably why he and Mingus stayed together, off and on, until the early 1970s, despite numerous disagreements.

A supremely confident solo pianist, Byard once teamed with Britain’s Howard Riley for a memorable series of duets. He ran an occasional orchestra called the Apollo Stompers and, following the death of Mingus, was part of an early version of the Mingus Big Band. He retained his teaching commitments in New York and Massachusetts, including the New England Conservatory and the Manhattan School of Music.

Classed among the more progressive of the time, his own albums stayed clear of the modish, whether free- form or heavy soul. Unique not simply because he could switch instruments so readily, they sound better than ever.

Byard died in Queens, New York, after a shooting which baffled those members of his family who were also at home, but did not hear it. He is survived by two daughters, a son, four grandsons and six great-grandsons.

Jaki (John) Byard, jazz musician, born June 15 1922; died February 11, 1999


Jaki Byard

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

JAKI BYARD

John Arthur "Jaki" Byard (June 15, 1922 – February 11, 1999) was an American jazz multi-instrumentalist, composer and arranger. Mainly a pianist, he also played tenor and alto saxophones, among several other instruments. He was known for his eclectic style, incorporating everything from ragtime and stride to free jazz

Byard played with trumpeter Maynard Ferguson in the late 1950s and early 1960s, and was a member of bands led by bassist Charles Mingus for several years, including on several studio and concert recordings. The first of his recordings as a leader was in 1960, but, despite being praised by critics, his albums and performances did not gain him much wider attention. In his 60-year career, Byard recorded at least 35 albums as leader, and more than 50 as a sideman. Byard's influence on the music comes from his combining of musical styles during performance, and his parallel career in teaching. 

From 1969 Byard was heavily involved in jazz education: he began teaching at the New England Conservatory of Music and went on to work at several other music institutions, as well as having private students. He continued performing and recording, mainly in solo and small group settings, but he also led two big bands – one made up of some of his students, and the other of professional musicians. His death, from a single gunshot while in his home, remains an unsolved mystery. 

Early life

 

Byard was born in Worcester, Massachusetts. At that time, his parents – John Sr and Geraldine Garr – were living at 47 Clayton Street.[1] Both of his parents played musical instruments; his mother played the piano, as did his uncles and grandmother, the last playing in cinemas during the silent film era.[2] He began piano lessons at the age of six,[3] but they ended when his family was affected by the Great Depression.[4] He was also given a trumpet that belonged to his father, and attempted to copy the popular players of the time, Roy Eldridge and Walter Fuller.[4] As a boy he often walked to Lake Quinsigamond to listen to bands performing there.[5] He heard Benny Goodman, Lucky Millinder, Fats Waller, and Chick Webb, and listened to other bands of the era on the radio.[5] "Those were the things that inspired me – I guess it stuck with me", he commented decades later.[5]
Byard began playing professionally on piano at the age of 16, in bands led by Doc Kentross and Freddy Bates.[4] His early lessons had involved mostly playing by rote, so his development of knowledge of theory and further piano technique occurred from the late 1930s until 1941,[4] including studying harmony at Commerce High School.[6] In that year he was drafted into the army, where he continued with piano lessons and was influenced by pianist Ernie Washington, with whom he was barracked, although Byard also took up trombone at this time.[7] He also studied Stravinsky and Chopin, and continued studying classical composers into the 1960s.[8] Part of his military service was in Florida, where he was a mentor to the young saxophonist Cannonball Adderley and his brother, Nat.[9][10] After leaving the army in 1946,[10] Byard's musical education continued, through discussions with others, and using library materials combined with music school syllabuses.[11]

Career as musician

 

Byard played with bands from the Boston area, including for two years with violinist Ray Perry, who encouraged Byard to add tenor saxophone to his array of instruments.[11] He then joined Earl Bostic's band as pianist in 1947 and they toured for around a year.[11] Byard then formed a bebop band with Joe Gordon and Sam Rivers in Boston, before touring for a year with a stage show band.[11] Back once more in Boston, he had a regular job for three years with Charlie Mariano in a club in nearby Lynn.[12] They recorded together in 1953. Byard was a member of Herb Pomeroy's band as a tenor saxophonist from 1952 to 1955, and recorded with him in 1957.[13] Byard also played solo piano in Boston in the early to mid-1950s and freelanced in that area later in the same decade.[13] He joined Maynard Ferguson in 1959, and stayed until 1962.[13][14] As one of Ferguson's players and arrangers, Byard found that his own preference for experimentation in time signatures, harmony and freer improvisation was restricted by the preferences of other band members.[12]
Byard moved to New York City in the early 1960s.[15] His first recording as a leader, the solo piano Blues for Smoke, was recorded there on December 16, 1960[16] (but not released in the United States until 1988).[17] Also in 1960, Byard first played with the bassist Charles Mingus.[18] He recorded extensively with Mingus in the period 1962–64 (including on the important albums on Impulse! Records Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus and The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady[14]), and toured Europe with him in 1964. Byard also made recordings as a sideman between 1960 and 1966 with Eric Dolphy, Booker Ervin, Roland Kirk,[14] and Rivers. His performance on Dolphy's Outward Bound put Byard at the forefront of modern jazz.[19]
As a leader, Byard recorded a string of albums for the Prestige label during the 1960s. Some of these albums included Richard Davis on bass and Alan Dawson on drums, a trio combination described by critic Gary Giddins as "the most commanding rhythm section of the '60s, excepting the Hancock-Carter-Williams trio in Miles Davis's band", although it existed only for recordings.[20] One such album was Jaki Byard with Strings!, a sextet recording that featured Byard's composing and arranging: on "Cat's Cradle Conference Rag", each of five musicians "play five standards based on similar harmonies simultaneously".[21] A further example of Byard's sometimes unusual approach to composition is the title track from Out Front!, which he created by thinking of fellow pianist Herbie Nichols' touch at the keyboard.[22] Popularity with jazz critics did not translate into wider success: a Washington Post review of his final Prestige album, Solo Piano from 1969, remarked that it was by "a man who has been largely ignored outside the inner circles".[23] Giddins also commented in the 1970s on the lack of attention that Byard had received, and stated that the pianist's recordings from 1960 to 1972 "are dazzling in scope, and for his ability to make the most of limited situations".[21] Following his time with Prestige, Byard had more solo performances, in part because of his affection for musical partners he had become close to but who had then died.[24]
Byard also continued to play and record with other leaders. While in Europe in 1965, he joined Art Blakey's band for a series of concerts there.[25] In 1967 Byard played in a small group with drummer Elvin Jones.[26] Between 1966 and 1969 Byard recorded three albums with the saxophonist Eric Kloss,[27] then, in 1970, returned to Mingus' band, including for performances in Europe.[10][28] Byard occasionally substituted on piano in Duke Ellington's orchestra in 1974 when the leader was unwell.[10][29] In 1974–75 Byard had a residency at Bradley’s in New York.[10] He also fronted a big band, the Apollo Stompers, which was formed in the late 1970s.[3][14] There were two versions of the band: one made up of musicians in New York, and the other using students from the New England Conservatory of Music,[3] where Byard had taught from 1969.[30]
In 1980 Byard was the subject of a short documentary film, Anything for Jazz, which featured him playing, teaching and with his family.[31] By the 1980s his main instrument remained the piano, and he still played both alto and tenor saxophones, but he had stopped playing the other instruments that he used to use professionally – bass, drums, guitar, trombone, and trumpet, although he still taught all of them.[3] In the same period, he was often heard in New York playing solo, in duos, or in trios.[32] In 1988 he played with a band founded by Mingus' widow to perform the bassist's compositions – the Mingus Big Band.[10] Byard played and recorded with a former student of his, Ricky Ford, from 1989 to 1991,[10] and continued to play and teach during the 1990s. 

Career as teacher

 

Byard was a charter faculty member at the New England Conservatory of Music, helping to establish its jazz studies program, initially named 'Afro-American Music'; he stayed for more than 15 years.[33] He also taught at the Hartt School of Music from 1975,[10] the Manhattan School of Music from 1989 to 1999,[34] the New School for Jazz and Contemporary Music,[14] and lectured for three years at Harvard University.[29]
As teacher and player, Byard was renowned for his knowledge of the history of jazz piano.[13] This meant that some aspiring young musicians sought him out as a teacher. One of these was pianist Jason Moran, who described their first meeting, at a performance by the Apollo Stompers:
Jaki had all these toys and whistles and bells and things that he was playing from the piano, and also screaming and yelling from the piano in joy. I remember thinking, 'This guy's out of his mind.' After the set, I went up to him, introduced myself, and said that I would be studying with him. He said something to the effect of, 'get ready'.[22]
Moran studied with Byard for four years, and credits the older man with developing his skills, building his awareness of jazz history, and creating his willingness to experiment with different styles.[22] Another student, Fred Hersch, reported that Byard was both organized and chaotic as a teacher: giving his students worksheets and having them study early stride piano, but also behaving eccentrically and missing lessons.[35] Classical composer Bruce Wolosoff was taught by Byard at the New England Conservatory and counts him as an important influence.[36]
Jazz flautist Jamie Baum also studied with Byard, and after his death organized a tribute band consisting mainly of his students: Baum, Adam Kolker, Jerome Harris, George Schuller and Ugonna Okegwo, called Yard Byard or The Jaki Byard Project, using compositions Byard had left with Baum but never performed.[37]

Death

 

Byard died in his home in Hollis, Queens, New York City, of a gunshot wound on February 11, 1999.[38] He was shot once in the head.[38] The police reported that Byard's family, with whom he shared the house, last saw him at 6 pm, that he was killed around 10 pm, that there "were no signs of robbery, forced entry or a struggle", and that no weapon was found.[38] The death was soon declared to be a homicide,[39] but the circumstances surrounding it have not been determined, and the case remains unsolved.
Byard was survived by two daughters, a son, four grandchildren, and six greatgrandchildren.[14] His wife of four decades had died five years earlier.[29][39]

Playing style and influence

 

Giddins described the nature of Byard's piano playing: "His tone [...] is unfailingly bright. His middle-register improvisations are evenly articulated with a strong touch and rhythmic elan [... he] likes ringing tremolos and portentous fifths [... and] barely articulated keyboard washes that float beyond the harmonic bounds but are ultimately anchored by the blues".[40] Byard played in a variety of styles, often mixed together in one performance: John S. Wilson commented that Byard "progresses from a basic melodic statement to nimble Art Tatum fingering to Fats Waller stride, to prickly Thelonious Monk phrases, to Cecil Taylor dissonances".[41] This could have deliberately comic, surrealistic effects.[42]
Byard pointed out that the use of humor did not mean that his music was not serious: "I might do it with humor, but it's still serious because I mean what I'm doing".[43] He stated that his choice to play in a variety of styles was not imitatory or superficial: "I can't play one way all night; I wouldn't want to and I wouldn't want the public to hear me that way".[44] One obituary writer noted that, "Nobody thinks it odd if a pianist underpins melody with stride patterns or a boogie bass. When Byard did that 30 years ago, distinctions were drawn more tightly".[45] Music writer Dan Lander also stated that Byard's playing was ahead of its time, and added that it has influenced 21st-century pianists:
Byard's grasp and integration of historical forms, his ability to embrace tradition and risk taking, was visionary, impacting on a new generation of jazz musicians who understood the history of jazz as a material to build on and work with, at the service of creating something new, rather than as an unmovable weight, fixing them to the past.[46]

A 1968 review of a Byard concert reported that his alto saxophone playing was "in a manner rooted in the bop era", and that he occasionally accompanied himself, "saxophone with his left hand, piano with his right".[47] His playing on tenor saxophone was influenced by Lester Young;[15] Byard himself cited Ben Webster as an influence on his tenor ballad playing.[44]

THE MUSIC OF JAKI BYARD: AN EXTENSIVE VIDEO OVERVIEW, A CROSS SECTION OF RECORDINGS, MUSICAL ANALYSIS AND COMMENTARY, PLUS VARIOUS INTERVIEWS WITH JAKI BYARD:

Jaki Byard Solo - 'Round Midnight

 




Jaki Byard - Sunshine Of My Soul (Full Album)






Jaki Byard Solo - 'Round Midnight






Jaki Byard - With Strings! ( Full Album )






Jaki Byard - To Them To Us (Full Album)






The Jaki Byard Quartet – Live! Vol 1






Jaki Byard - European Episode





"Anything For Jazz" JAKI BYARD documentary






Jaki Byard - Blues for Smoke -







Jaki Byard - Aluminum Baby






Jazz Piano Workshop 1965 Jaki Byard






Jaki Byard - What Is This Thing Call Love

 




I Remember Jaki Byard - Pianist and Composer





Jaki Byard - Love Is Here To Stay






Jaki Byard - Memories Of You






Jaki Byard - For All We Know






THE JAKI BYARD EXPERIENCE hazy Eve 1968






THE JAKI BYARD EXPERIENCE Paris






Jaki Byard - Spinning Wheel (Live)






Jaki Byard - To Them-To Us






The Jaki Byard Quartet Live ! Vol 2






Jaki Byard - Hello Young Lovers (Live at the






Jaki Byard - To My Wife






I Remember Jaki Byard - Pianist and Composer





Jaki Byard Lives!






Jason Moran on Charles Mingus & Jaki Byard






Charles Mingus Sextet at Cornell University - Take ...






Charles Mingus - ATFW You






Jaki Byard - Fables of Faubus / Peggy's Blue Skylight