A sonic exploration and tonal analysis of contemporary creative music in a myriad of improvisational/composed settings, textures, and expressions.
Welcome to Sound Projections
I'm your host Kofi Natambu. This online magazine features the very best in contemporary creative music in this creative timezone NOW (the one we're living in) as well as that of the historical past. The purpose is to openly explore, examine, investigate, reflect on, studiously critique, and take opulent pleasure in the sonic and aural dimensions of human experience known and identified to us as MUSIC. I'm also interested in critically examining the wide range of ideas and opinions that govern our commodified notions of the production, consumption, marketing, and commercial exchange of organized sound(s) which largely define and thereby (over)determine our present relationships to music in the general political economy and culture.
Thus this magazine will strive to critically question and go beyond the conventional imposed notions
and categories of what constitutes the generic and stylistic definitions of ‘Jazz’, ‘classical music’, ‘Blues.’
'Rhythm and Blues’, ‘Rock and Roll’, ‘Pop’, ‘Funk’, ‘Hip Hop’, etc. in order to search for what individual
artists and ensembles do cretively to challenge and transform our ingrained ideas and attitudes of what
music is and could be.
So please join me in this ongoing visceral, investigative, and cerebral quest to explore, enjoy, and pay
homage to the endlessly creative and uniquely magisterial dimensions of MUSIC in all of its guises and expressive identities.
Saturday, March 14, 2020
Chico Hamilton (1921-2013): Legendary, iconic, and innovative musician, composer, arranger, ensemble leader, producer, and teacher
Chico Hamilton,
a subtle and creative drummer, will probably always be remembered for
the series of quintets that he led during 1955-1965 and for his ability
as a talent scout than for his fine drumming. Hamilton first played drums while in high school with the many fine young players (including Dexter Gordon, Illinois Jacquet, and Charles Mingus) who were in Los Angeles at the time. He made his recording debut with Slim Gaillard, was house drummer at Billy Berg's, toured with Lionel Hampton, and served in the military (1942-1946). In 1946, Hamilton worked briefly with Jimmy Mundy, Count Basie, and Lester Young (recording with Young). He toured as Lena Horne's drummer (on and off during 1948-1955), and gained recognition for his work with the original Gerry Mulligan piano-less quartet (1952-1953).
In 1955, Hamilton put together his first quintet, a chamber jazz group with the reeds of Buddy Collette, guitarist Jim Hall, bassist Carson Smith, and cellist Fred Katz. One of the last important West Coast jazz bands, the Chico Hamilton Quintet
was immediately popular and appeared in a memorable sequence in 1958's
Jazz on a Summer's Day and the Hollywood film The Sweet Smell of
Success. The personnel changed over the next few years (with Paul Horn and Eric Dolphy heard on reeds, cellist Nate Gershman, guitarists John Pisano and Dennis Budimir, and several bassists passing through the group) but it retained its unusual sound. By 1961, Charles Lloyd was on tenor and flute, Gabor Szabo was the new guitarist, and soon the cello was dropped in favor of trombone (Garnett Brown and later George Bohanon), giving the group an advanced hard bop style.
In 1966, Chico Hamilton
started composing for commercials and the studios and he broke up his
quintet. However, he continued leading various groups, playing music
that ranged from the avant-garde to erratic fusion and advanced hard
bop. Such up-and-coming musicians as Larry Coryell (1966), Steve Potts (1967), Arthur Blythe, Steve Turre (on bass, surprisingly), and Eric Person (who played in Hamilton's '90s group Euphoria) were among the younger players he helped discover. In 1989, Chico Hamilton had a recorded reunion with the original members of his 1955 quintet (with Pisano in Hall's
place), and in the 1990s he made a number of records for Soul Note. He
continued playing gigs and recording throughout the 2000s, releasing
four albums in 2006 for the label Joyous Shout! in celebration of his
85th birthday. Chico Hamilton died in Manhattan on November 25, 2013; he was 92 years old. His last album, The Inquiring Mind, recorded shortly before his passing, was released in early 2014.
Legendary jazz drummer and bandleader
Foreststorn ‘Chico’ Hamilton, born September 21st, 1921 in Los Angeles,
had a fast track musical education in a band with his schoolmates
Charles Mingus, Illinois Jacquet, Ernie Royal, Dexter Gordon, Buddy
Collette and Jack Kelso. Engagements with Lionel Hampton, Slim &
Slam, T-Bone Walker, Lester Young, Count Basie, Duke Ellington, Charlie
Barnett, Billy Eckstine, Nat King Cole, Sammy Davis Jr., Billie Holiday,
Gerry Mulligan and six years with Lena Horne established this young
West Coast prodigy as a jazz drummer on the rise, before striking out on
his own as a bandleader in 1955.
Chico appears in the March
Milastaire number in the film “You'll Never Get Rich” (1941) as part of
the backing group supporting Fred Astaire, and performed on the
soundtrack of the Bing Crosby/Bob Hope film “Road to Bali”.
Chico’s
impact upon jazz includes the introduction of two unique and distinct
sounds: first in 1955 with his Original Quintet which combined the
sounds of his drums, the bass of Carson Smith, the guitar of Jim Hall,
the cello of Fred Katz, and the flute of Buddy Collette; and the second
in 1962 with his own drums, the bass of Albert Stinson, the guitar of
Gabor Szabo, the tenor sax of Charles Lloyd, and the trombone of George
Bohanon.
Recorded first lp as leader in '55 with George Duvivier
and Howard Roberts for Pacific Jazz; in '55 formed an unusual quintet in
L.A. feat. cello, flute, guitar, bass and drums which acquired national
following; the original personnel incl. Buddy Collette, Jim Hall, Fred
Katz and Carson Smith; Hamilton continued to tour using different
personnel '57-'60; group incl. Paul Horne and John Pisano feat. in the
film “Sweet Smell of Success” in '57; group incl. Nate Gershman and Eric
Dolphy app. in film “Jazz on a Summer’s Day” in '60; Dolphy makes first
recordings with Hamilton on “With Strings Attached”, “Gongs East”, “The
Three Faces of Chico”, and “That Hamilton Man”. Hamilton revamps group in '61 with new musical
direction; new group incl. Charles Lloyd, Gabor Szabo, George Bohanon
and Albert Stinson; group records for Columbia, Reprise and Impulse also
records soundtrack for industrial film “Litho” in '62, the first
American film to be shown behind the Iron Curtain. Hamilton forms
commercial and film production company in '65; scores the feature films
“Repulsion”, “Mr. Rico”, “By Design”, “Liebe Auf Den Ersten Blick”, “Die
Sonnengottin”, and “A Practical Man”; scores for television “Portrait
of Willie Mays” and the popular children's series “Gerald McBoing
Boing”; scores hundreds of commercials for TV and radio. Forms new group
with Larry Coryell, Richard Davis and Arnie Lawrence in '66 and records
“The Dealer” for Impulse. Performs Montreux and North Sea Jazz
Festivals in '72 and '73. Forms new “Players” group in '75 w. Arthur
Blythe, Steve Turre, Barry Finnerty and Abdullah; tours with “Players”
using different personnel '76-'80; records for Blue Note, Mercury,
Nautilus and Elektra. Originating faculty member in '87 of New School
University Jazz & Contemporary Music Program.
Forms new group
“Euphoria” in '87 w. Eric Person, Cary DeNigris and Reggie Washington;
records “Euphoria” '87; tours Europe with “Euphoria” '87, '88, '90.
Performs at Verona, Bolzano, Vienne, Nice, North Sea and Montreux Jazz
Festivals in '89 with regrouped original quintet w. Buddy Collette, Fred
Katz, John Pisano, Carson Smith; records “Reunion” for Soul Note. For
Soul Note records “Arroyo” with “Euphoria” group, “Trio!” w. Eric Person
, Cary DeNigris, Eric Dolphy tribute “My Panamanian Friend” with
“Euphoria” group, and solo drum session “Dancing to a Different
Drummer”. Tours Europe with “Euphoria” group '94. Hamilton subject of
documentary film by director Julian Benedikt “Dancing to a Different
Drummer” '94. 1997 Hamilton receives the New School University Jazz
& Contemporary Music Program’s Beacons in Jazz Award in recognition
for his “significant contribution to the evolution of Jazz”.Hamilton
releases “Foreststorn” in 2001 featuring his new “Euphoria” group with
stalwarts Cary DeNigris on guitar, Paul Ramsey on bass, and a new two
horn front line featuring Eric Lawrence on alto and soprano saxes and
Evan Schwam on tenor sax, as well as Special Guest Appearances from
Former Band members Arthur Blythe, Steve Turre and his wife Akua Dixon,
Eric Person, former Spin Doctors guitarist Eric Schenkman (a student of
Chico's), Blues Traveler front man John Popper (also a student of
Chico's), and Charlie Watts of The Rolling Stones. August 2001 performs
in front of 2300 people at Lincoln Center “My Funny Valentine- A Tribute
to Chico Hamilton” with “Euphoria” plus Special Guest Appearances from
Joe Beck, Arthur Blythe, Larry Coryell, Akua Dixon, Rodney Jones and
Eric Person. Fall 2002 releases “Thoughts of…” with his “Euphoria” group
with Special Guest Appearances from guitarists and former band members
Joe Beck, Larry Coryell and Rodney Jones.In 1997, Chico received
the New School University Jazz & Contemporary Music Programs Beacons
in Jazz Award in recognition for his “significant contribution to the
evolution of Jazz”. In 2002, Chico was awarded the WLIU-FM Radio
Lifetime Achievement Award. At the IAJE in NYC January 2004, Hamilton
was awarded a NEA Jazz Master Fellowship, presented to him by Roy
Haynes. In December 2006, Congress confirmed the President’s nomination
of Chico to the Presidents Council on the Arts. And in 2007, Chico
received a Living Legacy Jazz Award as part of The Kennedy Center Jazz
in Our Time Festival, as well as receiving a Doctor of Fine Arts from
The New SchoolDynamic as ever at the age of 86, Chico Hamilton
has a resume that includes scores for film, original compositions,
commercial jingles, 50 + albums as a leader, and countless international
tours. In 2006, Chico released four CD’s on Joyous Shout! in
celebration of his 85th birthday: “Juniflip” featuring guest appearances
from- legendary Love front- man Arthur Lee, criminally under-rated
vocalist (and successful actor) Bill Henderson, and former Hamilton band
members trombonist George Bohanon and bass trombonist Jimmy Cheatham;
“Believe” with Special Guest appearances from vocalist and R & B
Diva Fontella Bass and trombonist George Bohanon; “6th Avenue Romp”
featuring Special Guest appearances from guitarist Shuggie Otis,
trumpeter Jon Faddis, trombonist George Bohanon, vocalist Brenna Bavis
and percussionist Jaimoe of the Allman Brothers Band; and “Heritage”
with Special Guest appearances from vocalist Marya Lawrence and
tromboist George Bohanon. September 2007, Chico released “Hamiltonia”
sampling his original compositions from the four albums released in
2006. “Hamiltonia” is an impassioned statement of purpose- an emphatic
endorsement of writing and performing THIS music in the NOW, the way the
GREATS did in their time, and confirms Hamilton's status as one of the
most important living jazz artists and composers.Over the years,
Chico has had a series of dance floor successes, including his signature
song “Conquistadors from his 60's Impulse album “El Chico”, and the
Brazilian influenced song “Strut” from Chico's 1979 outing on Elektra
“Nomad”, which became so successful on the Northern Soul Scene in the
U.K. that it had its own dance!! “Conquistadors” also was the signature
track for E-man when he rocked the dance floor at Frank's Cocktail
Lounge in Brooklyn. In 2002 a track titled “For Mods Only” from Chico's
1968 Impulse album “The Dealer”, was included on the [Thievery
Corporations “Sounds from the Verve Hi-Fi”. Fall 2006, Rong Music
released the 12” vinyl “Kerry's Caravan” from Mudd & Chico Hamilton,
a moody yet stunning slice of modern music and a molten melting pot
ready made for filling the dance floor with remixes from long-term Idjut
Boys collaborator and Fiasco imprint boss Ray Mang!! And the recent
Impulsive! Remix Project features Mark De Clive Lowe’s take on Chico’s
classic 60s track “El Toro”. Released December of 2007 from SoulFeast
(Joaquin 'Joe' Claussell & Brian Michel Bacchus) on 12” Limited
Edition Vinyl is their recasting of Chico's classic track “Mysterious
Maiden”, and coming Spring 2008 from SoulFeast is a CD & double
vinyl 12” EP “Chico Hamilton Presents: Alternative Dimensions of
El-Chico”.Chico is presently teaching at New School University
Jazz & Contemporary Music Program; touring extensively in North
America with “Euphoria” group which includes Cary DeNigris on guitar,
Paul Ramsey on bass, Evan Schwam on flute, tenor and soprano saxes, and
Ian Young on flute, alto and baritone saxes, and Jeremy Carlstedt on
percussion; recording with his “Euphoria” group and special guests;
composing and performing music for film; and working on autobiography.
“I don't play music for people. I play music for music's sake.” Chico Hamilton, All About Jazz interview
Continuing with the Chico Hamilton edition of Give The Drummer Some!, we have another "best of" package from Impulse!
that follows through quite nicely by pulling material from the early
60s phase of the Quintet. It seems one of my favourite tracks on here, "Conquistadores,"
is finally starting to get the love it deserves and has popped up on a
couple comps the last few years. The collection is also notable for the
final track which was Larry Coryell's biggest contribution to The Dealer, his debut recording in the jazz world. In
fact, if nothing else, Chico will be fondly remembered as the man who
either gave some of the world's jazz giants their first big break in the
biz or allowed young players (like Paul Horn and Eric Dolphy) the unrestricted freedom to develop their own unique voice. For instance, Gabor Szabo had this to say about his stint with Hamilton in the September 26, 1964, issue of Melody Maker: "When
I was studying at Berklee," he added in discussing his own role, "I got
the feeling I couldn't play the instrument at all, because I could not
use my own things as they didn't fit any set pattern. When I joined
Chico, he helped me immensely to develop my own style. He never forced
me in any set way. At all times, he encouraged me to be myself on the
instrument." Unlike yesterday's post, I'm going to list each player's appearances since Doug Payne
made it so dang easy with his comprehensive research on Szabo, who
provides guitar for all but one track on this collection. One other
peculiarity of this compilation is that it seems to have gone out of its
way to avoid inclusion of brass in many tracks. For instance, El Chico is noted for being the only recording to document the time Sado Watanabe
spent with the Quintet, yet the two tracks included are the only ones
on which he did not play. It might be due to the same type of
contractual issues presently preventing Impulse!
from reissuing a huge chunk of their back catalogue - although it could
also be because they are far and away the best two tracks on the album
:-) Chico Hamilton - Drums Charles Lloyd - Tenor Sax (1), Flute (3)Jimmy Woods - Tenor Sax (3)Arnie Lawrence - Alto Sax (7) Larry Coryell - Guitar (7) Gabor Szabo - Guitar (1,2,3,4,5,6) Albert Stinson - Bass (1,2,3,4) Ron Carter - Bass (5,6) RichardDavis - Bass (7) Willie Bobo - Percussion (2,3,4,5,6) Victor Pantoja - Percussion (2,4,5,6) Ernie Hayes - Organ (7)
1 Forest Flower - Sunrise / Forest Flower - Sunset [Man From Two Worlds 1963] 2 People[El Chico 1965] 3 Chic Chic Chico [Chic Chic Chico 1965] 4 Conquistadores (The Conquerors) [El Chico 1965] 5 Who Can I Turn To (When Nobody Needs Me) [The Further Adventures of El Chico 1966] 6 Evil Eye[The Further Adventures of El Chico 1966] 7 Larry Of Arabia [The Dealer 1966]
It was also during this period that Hamilton branched out into TV and film work to a greater degree. In 1957 he had scored The Sweet Smell of Success (a superb film noir
revolving around the seedier aspects of the music and entertainment
industry) as well as making a cameo appearance with the Quintet,
featuring Paul Horn and John Pisano. The year after he appeared at the Newport Jazz Fest and the recording of their legendary performance documented in Jazz On A Summer's Day was the first time Eric Dolphy entered the consciousness of the mainstream world, sandwiched between Chuck Berry and Louis Armstrong no less! Other than that, it was pretty quiet on the A/V front for a few years.
However, it was being asked to score Roman Polanski's classic Repulsion in '64 while in the UK backing Lena Horne
that really started the ball rolling for Chico's career in commercial
composition. Based on an assortment of interviews, Chico's not much of a
romantic where music is concerned and he sure ain't big on nostalgia,
but Repulsion obviously holds a
special place in his heart. The actual soundtrack is extremely rare,
with only a small run put out by Italy's CAM records. If you see it on
vinyl, pounce on it as it is worth m-e-g-a-b-u-c-k-s. From there on, he
was in high demand for theme and incidental music and he churned it out
for films and TV on the side over the next 20 years, never forsaking his
own recordings and gigs for too long even while teaching jazz at NYC's
New School University. When asked why he ultimately got off the TV gravy train in a recent All About JazzQ&A, he had this to say: "Well
I found that it became boring. Very boring. Plus I found out that it
bleeds you. I found out I was just doing things, just for the money. TV
will ruin you; it uses up your talent." Can I get a "amen!" brothers and sisters? This
collection has been OOP for over three decades and, like most of
Chico's work on the label, it has never seen CD reissue. Since you're
unable to make an Impulse! purchase of this collection, Soundological offers it to you at the deepest discount available HERE or HERE.
MELISSA BLOCK, HOST: Jazz drummer Chico Hamilton was a lynchpin of the West Coast jazz
scene in the 1950s and '60s. The Chico Hamilton quintet created a new
sound by adding cello and the drummer's groups became incubators for new
talent. Hamilton continued performing into his ninth decade. He died
yesterday in New York of natural causes at the age of 92. NPR's Mandalit del Barco has this appreciation. MANDALIT DEL BARCO, BYLINE: He was born Foreststorn Hamilton in
Los Angeles in 1921, where high school bandmates included such other
future jazz stars as Charles Mingus and Dexter Gordon. He went on to
become Lena Horne's drummer, as he told NPR in 2006. CHICO HAMILTON: I ended up staying with Lena for about over eight
years. I was in a different world, you know. I was on a first name
basis with everybody, from Frank Sinatra to Tony - you name it, I was on
a first name basis with him. BARCO: Hamilton didn't really dig the world of entertainment, so he dove into jazz, making his mark with his first quintet. (SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC) BARCO: The group featured woodwinds and cello. The sound came to
be called chamber jazz. But its debut was anything but hoity-toity. HAMILTON: Our first gig, man, was in Long Beach, California, in a
sort of unrestricted whorehouse. You couldn't have been in a crappier
place than that. And you come in there with a cello and a flute. Man, we
stayed there about seven, eight months and sold out every night. You
couldn't move. BARCO: The guitarist in that group was Jim Hall. JIM HALL: He was fearless. Nothing seemed to faze him. Chico had a
combination of talent and he felt secure in what he was doing and what
we were doing. And we were doing something a bit unusual, actually, in
those days. BARCO: The group made such a name for itself that it was featured
in the 1957 film "The Sweet Smell of Success," starring Burt Lancaster
and Tony Curtis. Hamilton co-wrote the score. The group was also
included in the documentary "Jazz on a Summer's Day," filmed at the
Newport Jazz Festival. George Wein booked the festival and described
Hamilton's touch this way. GEORGE WEIN: He didn't have to bombast you to show you how good he is. I think that's defining the quality of his art. (SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC) BARCO: But Hamilton wasn't just a drummer. He had an ear for
talent and continued to pursue new sounds throughout his career. He got
avant-garde with Eric Dolphy. (SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC) BARCO: And he got funky with Charles Lloyd. (SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC) GERALD WILSON: Chico has played all kinds of music and also taught drums right in New York City, at the New School there. BARCO: Pianist and bandleader Gerald Wilson was a friend of
Hamilton's and another mainstay of the West Coast jazz scene. He recalls
a time when the musicians unions were segregated in L.A. His friend
helped change that. WILSON: He made a statement that why did we have to have two unions. And it started from that. BARCO: Chico Hamilton's influence extended beyond his own groups
to R&B and hip-hop. His riffs were often sampled. In 1992, Hamilton
told NPR he was always interested in what was going on now, not the
past. HAMILTON: You can't go back. I can't feel like I did 30 years ago
about anything with maybe perhaps the exception of my wife, who I still
love. OK? BARCO: Chico Hamilton spent a career that spanned more than seven decades looking ahead. Mandalit del Barco, NPR News.
NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by Verb8tm, Inc.,
an NPR contractor, and produced using a proprietary transcription
process developed with NPR. This text may not be in its final form and
may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may
vary. The authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio record.
Chico Hamilton always maintained that the line-up on A Different Journey
was his favorite of all his quintets, and it’s easy to see why; with
both Gabor Szabo and Charles Lloyd on hand, some interesting ideas are
going to emerge. By this time Hamilton had cast off the light, chamber
jazz directions he pursued in the fifties in favor of the advances of
Coltrane and Coleman. In Lloyd he chose a perfect musical director; his
compositions are not based on melodic heads as much as they are
springboards for challenging improvisation. Due to the talent in the
front line, Hamilton seems content to stay out of the way and just keep
time. Trombonist George Bohanon works the same terrain originally
occupied by a cellist, working in tandem with Lloyd to create solos
based on a series of abstract ideas. Szabo’s prickly solos and brisk
comping prove him to be a real find, one of the best guitarists to
emerge from the sixties. Together they work through the songs with
energetic freedom and a wellspring of spontaneity. Hot on the heels of
his collaboration with Eric Dolphy, Hamilton once again created a
masterful group whose subliminal interactions are among the best of the
era. As creative and original as the various Hamilton Quintet were, it’s
a shame that more of their recordings aren’t readily available.
Fortunately, this one has resurfaced.
--David Rickert
(allaboutjazz.com)
Tracks:
1. Sun Yen Yen
2. A Voice in the Night
3. Different Journey
4. The Vulture
5. One Sheridan Square
6. Island Blues
CHARLES LLOYDflute, tenor saxophoneGABOR SZABOguitarCHICO HAMILTONdrumsALBERT STINSONbassGEORGE BOHANNONtrombone
All music composed and arranged by Charles LloydReprise Records WPCR-27190 (Reprise Records R-6078)
Chico Hamilton Quintet Three Classic Albums Avid Records 2010
The
first thing the Chico Hamilton Quintet had going for it was unusual
instrumentation. The quintet built its sound around the cello, and
featured guitar, bass, either flute or clarinet (with the occasional
sax), and Hamilton on drums, forgoing the sticks for brushes or mallets.
The second thing was a style that wasn't quite jazz, exactly, but not
as composed as classical (and definitely not as boring as third stream.)
Many called it chamber jazz, an apt title for a group that applied
counterpoint and melody to a lightly swinging beat. And the compositions
from the group were abstract, modern works unlike what anyone else
quite had in mind.
For a while, apart from a long-gone Mosaic
set, the Quintet's music was pretty difficult to find. However, lately
several import labels have put out compilations of their albums in
various arrangements. Unfortunately it's still difficult to pick up the
entire body of work from this masterful group without duplicating any
sessions; some have these, some have those.
This collection from Avid features three early, 1950s albums. The first two, The Chico Hamilton Quintet Featuring Buddy Collette and The Chico Hamilton Quintet in Hi-Fi feature the original group with Carson Smith on bass, Fred Katz on cello, Jim Hall on guitar (in his first ever jazz group) and Collette on flute, clarinet, and sax. The third, The Chico Hamilton Quintet, swaps out Hall and Collette for Paul Horn on reeds and flute, and John Pisano on guitar. Rounding out the set are seven selections from a 1953 trio recording with Howard Roberts on guitar and George Duvivier on bass (and one duo with Duvivier), capturing all of the album except three tracks that featured Hall instead of Roberts.
The
first two albums are some of the best music the West Coast had to offer
in the 1950s. The first half of the first album features lively
originals that make use of the lightweight sound of the quintet; "A Nice
Day" pretty much says it all in the title, a lively reworking of the
"Miss Jones" changes. "The Morning After" is an energetic and insanely
catchy little melody. In what would soon be a trademark approach to
standards, "My Funny Valentine" is given a drastic reworking with Katz
holding down the melody; "Blue Sands" channels the Middle East through
mallets and flutes. The second half is a live set from Stroller's that
focuses on more standard fare. But from early on Hamilton had assembled a
group of sympathetic musicians who were willing to rewrite what a jazz
group could be.
The second album continues the fun of the first
as the group continued to find out what it could accomplish that other
more conventional groups couldn't touch. A waltz, a few tone poems, more
severely monkeyed with standards; it was apparent that Hamilton had a
top-notch group. Although Hamilton was not often front and center in his
music, these sessions truly show what a great drummer he is. He plays
very melodically, treating the drums like a true instrument, and seems
to have an endless supply of interesting ideas. "Drums West," is one of
the rare drum solos that will stand up to repeated listening.
Once
Hall and Collette left, it took a little while for the group to recover
(despite Hamilton's assertion to the contrary). Instead of forging
ahead, the Quintet now seemed to be merely maintaining its identity.
Horn and Pisano were good enough improvisers and fit in well, but the
true loss was in the composition department with Collette, who
contributed some of the group's best songs. Some of the originals seem
aimless, lacking focus, and there are a quite a few more standards,
including a "Satin Doll" taken at a plodding pace. Only "Siete-Cuatro"—a
nifty 7/8 tune—shows the magic of the original line-up.
The
trio selections are worth a listen, if for no other reason than it shows
the seeds of what Hamilton was cooking up in his mind for later: no
rhythm section, per se, and instead all the instruments were on equal
footing. It would have been nice to have the entire set, but better to
have some than not at all.
Hamilton's early quintet recordings
are a mess to sort through and this set from Avid helps to present three
great albums in some semblance of order. If you've snapped up a few
earlier reissues there's a good chance you'll have some of the stuff
here. If not, it's an excellent introduction to a little-known gem of a
group.
Tracks: CD1: A Nice Day; My Funny Valentine; Blue Sands;
The Sage; The Morning After; I Want To Be Happy; Spectacular; Free Form;
Walking Carson Blues; Buddy Boo; Jonalah; Chrissie; The Wind; Gone
Lover (When Your Lover Has Gone); The Ghost; Sleepy Slept Here (Santa
Monica); Taking A Chance On Love; The Squimp; Topsy. CD2: Drums West;
Sleep; I Know (theme); Chanel #5; Beanstalk; September Song;
Siete-Cuatro; Mr. Jo Jones; I Know (theme); Satin Doll; Lillian;
Reflections; Soft Winds; Caravan; I Know (theme); Street Of Dreams;
Nuttye; Broadway; Uganda; Lollypop; We'll Be Together Again; Skinned
Strings.
Personnel: Chico Hamilton: drums; Buddy Collette:
flute, clarinet, tenor, sax, alto sax; Jim Hall: guitar; Fred Katz:
cello; Carson Smith: bass; Paul Horn: alto sax, tenor sax, flute,
clarinet; John Pisano: guitar; George Duvivier: bass; Howard Roberts:
guitar.
Drummer, Bandleader and Exponent of Cool Jazz, Dies at 92
by Peter Keepnews
Chico Hamilton, a drummer
and bandleader who helped put California on the modern-jazz map in the
1950s and remained active into the 21st century, died on Monday in
Manhattan. He was 92.
His death was announced by April Thibeault, his publicist.
Never
among the flashiest or most muscular of jazz drummers, Mr. Hamilton had
a subtle and melodic approach that made him ideally suited for the
understated style that came to be known as cool jazz, of which his
hometown, Los Angeles, was the epicenter.
He
was a charter member of the baritone saxophonist Gerry Mulligan’s
quartet, which helped lay the groundwork for the cool movement. His own
quintet, which he formed shortly after leaving the Mulligan group, came
to be regarded as the quintessence of cool. With its quiet intensity,
its intricate arrangements and its uniquely pastel instrumentation of
flute, guitar, cello, bass and drums — the flutist, Buddy Collette, also
played alto saxophone — the Chico Hamilton Quintet became one of the most popular groups in jazz. (The cellist in that group, Fred Katz, died in September.)
The
group was a mainstay of the nightclub and jazz festival circuit and
even appeared in movies. It was prominently featured in the 1957 film “Sweet Smell of Success,”
with Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtis. (One character in that movie, a
guitarist played by Martin Milner, was a member of the Hamilton group on
screen, miming to the playing of the quintet’s real guitarist, John
Pisano.) And it was seen in “Jazz on a Summer’s Day,” Bert Stern’s acclaimed documentary about the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival.
Cool
jazz had fallen out of favor by the mid-1960s, but by then Mr. Hamilton
had already altered the sound and style of his quintet, replacing the
cellist with a trombonist and adopting a bluesier, more aggressive
approach.
Chico
Hamilton, who had made a name for himself as a drummer, in the 1950s
took the bold, unusual step of becoming a bandleader as well, and later a
composer.Credit...Todd Boebel
In
1966, after more personnel changes and more shifts in audience tastes,
Mr. Hamilton, no longer on top of the jazz world but increasingly
interested in composing — he wrote the music for Roman Polanski’s 1965
film, “Repulsion” — disbanded the quintet and formed a company that
provided music for television shows and commercials.
But
he continued to perform and record occasionally, and by the mid-1970s
he was back on the road as a bandleader full time. He was never again as
big a star as he had been in the 1950s, but he remained active, and his
music became increasingly difficult to categorize, incorporating
elements of free jazz, jazz-rock fusion and other styles.
He
was born Foreststorn Hamilton in Los Angeles on Sept. 21, 1921. His
father, Jesse, worked at the University Club of Southern California, and
his mother, Pearl Lee Gonzales Cooley Hamilton, was a school dietitian.
Asked
by Marc Myers of the website JazzWax how he got the name Chico, he said
he wasn’t sure but thought he acquired it as a teenager because “I was
always a small dude.”
While still in
high school he immersed himself in the local jazz scene, and by 1940 he
was touring with Lionel Hampton’s big band. After serving in the Army
during World War II, he worked briefly with the bands of Jimmy Mundy,
Charlie Barnet and Count Basie before becoming the house drummer at the
Los Angeles nightclub Billy Berg’s in 1946.
From
1948 to 1955 he toured Europe in the summers as a member of Lena
Horne’s backup band, while playing the rest of the year in Los Angeles.
His softly propulsive playing was an essential element in the popularity
of Mulligan’s 1952 quartet, which also included Chet Baker on trumpet
but, unusually, did not have a pianist. The group helped set the
template for what came to be known as West Coast jazz, smoother and more
cerebral than its East Coast counterpart.
Mr. Hamilton's quiet intensity and the pastel orchestrations of his band helped form the smooth Los Angeles modern jazz style.Credit: Jack Vartoogian/FrontRowPhotos
The
high profile he achieved with Mulligan emboldened him to try his luck
as a bandleader, something fairly unusual for a drummer in the 1950s.
His success was almost instantaneous.
He
went on to record prolifically for a variety of labels, including
Pacific Jazz, Impulse, Columbia and Soul Note. Among the honors he
received were a National Endowment for the Arts Jazz Masters Award in 2004 and a Kennedy Center Living Jazz Legend Award in 2007.
Although slowed by age, Mr. Hamilton continued to perform and record beyond his 90th birthday. He released an album, “Revelation,” in 2011 on the Joyous Shout
label, and had recently completed another one, “Inquiring Minds,”
scheduled for release in 2014. Until late last year he was appearing at
the Manhattan nightclub Drom with Euphoria, the group he had led since
1989.
Mr. Hamilton is survived by a
brother, Don; a daughter, Denise Hamilton; a granddaughter; and two
great-granddaughters. His brother the actor Bernie Hamilton, and his wife, Helen Hamilton, both died in 2008.
Mr.
Hamilton was highly regarded not just for his drumming, but also as a
talent scout. Musicians who passed through his group before achieving
stardom on their own include the bassist Ron Carter, the saxophonists
Eric Dolphy and Charles Lloyd and the guitarists Jim Hall, Gabor Szabo
and Larry Coryell. In a 1992 interview with National Public Radio, the
saxophonist Eric Person, a longtime sideman, praised Mr. Hamilton for
teaching “how to work on the bandstand, how you dress onstage, how you
carry yourself in public.”
Mr. Hamilton taught those lessons as a bandleader and, for more than two decades, as a faculty member at the New School for Jazz and Contemporary Music
in New York. Teaching young musicians, he told The Providence Journal
in Rhode Island in 2006, was “not difficult if they realize how
fortunate they are.”
“But,” he added, “if they’re on an ego trip, that’s their problem.”
Correction:
An
earlier version of this obituary misidentified the guitarist who is
heard with Mr. Hamilton’s quintet on the soundtrack of “Sweet Smell of
Success.” He is John Pisano, not Jim Hall.
Daniel E. Slotnik contributed reporting.
A version of this article appears in print on , Section B, Page 17 of the New York edition with the headline: Chico Hamilton, Drummer, Bandleader And Exponent of Cool Jazz, Dies at 92. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper
The Complete Pacific Jazz Recordings of the Chico Hamilton Quintet
AllMusic Review
by Scott Yanow
The original Chico Hamilton Quintet was one of the last significant West Coast jazz bands of the cool era. Consisting of Buddy Collette on reeds (flute, clarinet, alto, and tenor), guitarist Jim Hall, bassist Carson Smith, and the drummer/leader, the most distinctive element in the group's identity was cellist Fred Katz.
The band could play quite softly, blending together elements of bop and
classical music into their popular sound and occupying their own niche.
This six-CD, limited-edition box set from 1997 starts off with a Hamilton drum solo from a 1954 performance with the Gerry Mulligan Quartet; it contains three full albums and many previously unreleased numbers) by the original Chico Hamilton band and also has quite a few titles from the second Hamilton group (which has Paul Horn and John Pisano in the places of Collette and Hall). In addition, there are three titles from the third Hamilton Quintet (with Eric Dolphy on flute and alto) and a 1959 Duke Ellington tribute date that featured both Collette and Horn.
Most of these performances were formerly quite rare and never reissued
coherently before. Highly recommended to jazz historians and to
listeners who enjoy classic cool jazz, this box is sure to be sold out
quickly.
“I’m as original as one can get in my approach to music.” These are the first words offered to me by
Chico Hamilton, even before I can pose an interview question. Is this
the start of a brash, indulgent expose? No. It’s the voice of a man who
sees his uncompromising musical identity not as a stubbornly extroverted
statement, but as a natural, inevitable fact. It’s just that Chico
feels he has no other choice but to be Chico.
“Whether that’s good, bad or indifferent, I don’t know. It all depends on what you like and what you don’t like. But it’s safe for me to say that I only play ‘myself,’ and that’s all anyone can do. I’ve never been fortunate enough to be able to play like any one of my peers, so I virtually had to invent a way of playing that was more conducive to me. The bottom line is that I ended up having this particular style of playing. If I had to describe my way of playing, I would point out the fact that I more or less caress the instrument as opposed to hitting it. I guess that’s the difference. I couldn’t care less about being the world’s fastest or whatever. I’m more interested in achieving a sound out of the instrument.”
Chico is careful with the words that are
most important to him. The drums are reverentially dubbed “the
instrument.” The word is intoned with a sense of history. It’s one of
the key words in his vocabulary that pops up frequently. Anyone who has
seen Chico play can’t forget how he carefully coaxes music from the
instrument. He draws his audiences inward toward the instrument,
rather than hitting them over the head with a chops barrage. A motif is
developed, counter themes dance over it, and the cymbals swirl above in
a textural blend demanding that the listeners focus their concentration as the volume of the whole descends to an impressionistic hush and then gradually crescendos to an orchestrated storm.
“Each instrument I play on the set is an
individual instrument as far as I’m concerned. One cymbal isn’t the same
as another cymbal. In my case, 1 use three top cymbals, and I approach
each one of them differently. My whole premise is to get a sound, and the only way to achieve a sound is to acquire a touch. The touch gives you the sound. That’s what I’ve always gone for: getting a sound and approaching it gracefully—not so much in the movement or motion towards the instrument, but extracting from the instrument. As you know, you don’t have to hit that sucker hard to get a sound out of it or even to get volume. That has always been my thing.”
Chico’s respect for artistic integrity extends
to all the arts. He speaks passionately of the originality,
professional purity and immediacy of ballet (“They’re still doing
fundamental dancing—no short- cuts”), live theater, and jazz. In his
Manhattan penthouse, gourmet magazines lay on the glass coffee table, fine paintings and photographs adorn the walls, including a famous print of black mine workers once featured in Life magazine. The canvases and prints are, of course, originals.
Most jazz buffs think of Chico’s trademark style in the framework of the various groups he has organized and composed for over the years. A small-group format is a premium
vehicle for Chico’s brand of expressive drumming. But Chico’s
identifying sound has also remained undiluted, even in commercial
contexts that would normally dictate artistic restrictions.
Many jazz musicians who made the
pilgrimage to New York lost the battle between the conviction to make
their own statement and the need to meet the harsh financial realities
of The Apple. Some jazz innovators, prejudiced to any venues out- side of Greenwich Village, assumed that skyscraper-lined Madison Avenue was a confining corridor to the lion’s den. Not Chico—after establishing himself in California, he moved to New York City in 1966, and made the Madison Avenue scene just
another vehicle for his own sound. His first jingles in New York were
the beginnings of Chico Hamilton Productions, which bloomed into a
steady business of scoring/playing for television and radio commercials, films, and television specials.
“I was very fortunate when I came to New
York and got into the jingle business. At that time, producers were some
of the most creative people around, for the simple reason that
producers, directors and copywriters would reach out. They wanted something different. So when I came out here, they reached out. My reputation had preceded me as far as a particular jazz sound is concerned. They reached out and employed me to do commercials because they wanted my sound. They knew what my sound was going to be. So I never had any hassle about conforming. It wasn’t a question of, ‘Hey, I want you to sound like Chico Hamilton.’ They got Chico Hamilton!
“In a sense, I introduced the flute and guitar to TV. Previous to the time I came here, they had 20-, 25-, or 35- piece orchestras
doing commercials. They had to have that huge sound. I came in and did
my first commercial with a quartet including flute, guitar and cello. It
caught on to the extent that people loved the sound. The sound was
intimate enough. It became personalized and it identified with the
product very easily. And that was the name of the game.
“So, I didn’t have to alter my way of musical thinking; I didn’t have to alter my way of playing. But 1 would say those were the
good days for Madison Avenue. They were very inventive, and not only in
music. During that time there were a lot of fantastic cinematographers
and directors who worked at places like MPO and other studios. There
were people like Mike Ciminopater to win Academy Awards for Best Director and Best Film in 1978 for The Deer Hunter] and Jerry Schatzberg [who directed such highly acclaimed films as Panic In Needle Park, 1971, and Scarecrow, 1973]—people
who graduated from being cinematographers on Madison Avenue to the big
screen. Those were people who were very inventive. They had open minds.
Also, a lot of jazz musicians in New York were in the studios making
commercials at that time.”
Another one of Chico’s key words is “blessed”—blessed to do what one does, blessed to carry on, and blessed to be what one will be. His first musical blessing was an inspirational childhood moment, which he recalls to this day with a youngster’s joy. “Sonny Greer was the first drummer that
I ever saw. My mother took me to the Paramount theater in Los Angeles
to see Duke’s band, and when that curtain opened up and that band hit, I
didn’t see Duke at all. I just saw Sonny. The band was arranged in a
pyramid up on the risers and on the very top was this drummer with about a zillion drums—a whole drum store. Man, that was the most magnificent thing I had ever seen in my life. That was it! Sonny Greer was perhaps one of the greatest percussionists ever—not drummer, but percussionist. The things that he could do, the sounds he could get, and the things that he did with his touch were miraculous.”
I reminded Chico that I’m too young to
have seen Greer in his heyday. But I recalled to him a night I’ll never
forget when I saw Sonny play in the last years of his life. I caught him at the West End Cafe, a
very casual New York Upper West Side spot. It was a duet of Sonny with
piano— just a small, informal gig. Very few people were in the place.
Nevertheless, here was Sonny decked out dapper in spats and double-breasted pinstripe, lilting brushes in his 80-some-odd-year-old
hands. Chico grinned wide, settled back, folded his arms decisively and
concluded, “He played to the end. You can’t be any more blessed than
that.”
As a young man growing up lugging his kit around Los Angeles, Chico found a fertile music scene in which to nurture his talents.
Between the ages of 13 and 14, he played with a group that included
later-to-be-famous schoolmates Buddy Collette on sax and flute, Ernie
Royal on trumpet, and another local kid on bass—Charles Mingus.
Dance-hall dates with a local trumpeter/bandleader gave Chico steady
work, during which he developed stamina and brush technique.
“The leader hired me for about 75 cents a
night. He wouldn’t let me use sticks. He would yell, ‘Get them brushes!
Put the sticks down!’ I’ve always been very fluent with brushes from
that time on. I’ve always been able to swing with them—to get that lilt.
On the gig, I learned ways of keeping a good stroke without burning my wrist out or getting tired. At that time, we played taxi dances. They would charge ten cents
a dance and it was continuous music. You never stopped. We would play
four, five, or six hours a night straight. Every so often, you would
take an intermission and someone would keep time for you. It helped develop strength and ingenuity with regard to relaxing.”
At only 16 years of age, Chico found himself waiting for the curtain to rise, “nervous as hell,” on stage with a legend and sitting in the place of the man who started it all for him. “There I was with Duke Ellington. Sonny Greer got sick and I
always felt that they couldn’t find anyone else. [laughs] I played with
Duke for about a month. I used to have to burn a match and draw a
mustache on my face.
“Unfortunately, a lot of drummers today don’t have the chance to get that experience of playing with big bands, which they need. Playing with a big band is fulfilling—nothing like it. Knowing how to make
the hits, then come back and recoup and—BOOM!—lay the thing down. You
have all that brass shouting down over your shoulder. Man, you’re
hearin’ it, holdin’ it—nothin’ in the world like it.”
The rocketing progress continued. While
just entering his 20’s, Chico worked with Lionel Hampton, sax great
Lester Young, and then later toured with Count Basie and Jimmy Mundy.
Even his four- year period of army service
turned out to be an unexpected rare musical opportunity, in that he
studied with Papa Jo Jones. Like many of Chico’s influences, the
guidance from Jo was as much spiritual as it was musical. “I met Jo
before I went into the army, when Count Basie’s band first came to
California. Man, 1 was nervous. Lester Young’s brother, Lee, who was a
drummer, asked me if I would like to meet Jo Jones. I said, ‘Are you kidding?’ [laughs] I was only in high school. I’ll never forget it. The first thing Jo said was, ‘Finish high school and go on to college.’
“I was drafted before he was and stationed in Alabama. When he came through there, I had the chance to really work out. We talked a lot. Jo is a very intelligent,
worldly man. We would talk about religion, people, the world, and it
eventually all ended back at the instrument because drums encompass the
world.”
Chico’s growing reputation as a drummer who could hard-drive a big band or gently accompany soloists lead him to be in hot demand with singers. He swung with the vocal elite including Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Tony Bennett, Billy Eckstine and Nat Cole. But his most cherished partnership with a vocalist was with Lena Home. Chico’s on-and-off eight-year association with Lena began in 1948 when he auditioned for bandleader/pianist/ composer Lennie Hayton, who was married secretly to Lena at the time because of the public intolerance for interracial marriage. During his stay, Chico grew to “tremendously
respect” Lennie and the music as well. The importance of the drums in
Lena’s act was dramatized by the stage setup. The drummer had to be
physically, as well as musically, right behind the singer. “I was hired by Lennie because he liked
the way I played and the sound that I got. I could read and swing at
the same time, and I could do it very subtly with brushes. I had the
right touch for her sound, yet I was strong enough to move a band at the same time. There was always a 15- or 16-piece band. Playing as an accompanist for Lena called on every ounce of musicianship you had.
“Every singer in the world sings with the drummer. Do you know what they sing to? They sing to your bass drum. For all hip singers—every singer that you have ever liked—you’ll find that the bass drum plays a very important part in the way that they phrase, or do anything. Any singer that’s hip
will go for that—not so much the chord structure laid down by a piano
or guitar, but by the drummer. The band was set up in back and I was in
front of them, right behind Lena. No singer ever did that before.”
In 1952, while still playing dates with Lena,
Chico helped form and became a member of Gerry Mulligan’s quartet. That
fruitful partnership continued for a year. Then, in the mid-’50s, Chico
took a risk— a big leap that marked his turning point. He had played for the best, and the time had
come to form his own group with his own sound, concept and
compositions. Because Chico’s drumming concept is a unique, textural
approach, it naturally followed that his own group would breathe with a
fresh new coloration. The resulting format was a quintet of guitar (Jim Hall), cello (Fred Katz), sax/flute (Buddy Collette), bass (Carson Smith), and “the instrument.”
The ensemble sound was as original as Chico’s solo sound. Some critics, groping for labels, called it “chamber jazz.” A landmark appearance at the 1956 Newport Jazz Festival sparked growing national attention, and boosted the group’s tours and records. Over the years, the quintet grew to be a jazz institution. The multi-reeds position has been filled by such inventive talents as Paul Horn, Eric Dolphy and Charles Lloyd. Larry Coryell, Gabor Szabo and Howard Roberts have graced the band with their guitar magic.
Guitarists especially found the format to
be a boon. Few jazz groups at the time featured guitar. Chico employed
the instrument in an unusual manner that gave the guitarist wide freedom
and, therefore, great responsibility in the band’s sound. But the prime
influence in the sound was, of course, the source.
“The reason every group I’ve organized
has an original sound is because of me. I’m my own gimmick. It’s not due
to the fact that I might have odd instrumentation. It’s the sound that I
get from the drums that achieves the sound, the timbre and flow in the
arrangement of a particular composition. I feel that all drummers really
determine the sound of the bands that they are playing with. The band’s
sound belongs to the drummer.
“Everything I write has long, fluid lines so that it gives a drummer a chance to move—to dance. I combine the textures of smooth to rough to smooth to rough. With the right combination, you’ll get something happening without becoming boring.
All drummers’ bands tend to be excellent bands because one of our
idiosyncrasies is to be able to hit rhythmic articulations. When you
want the band to hit an 8th note, you want it to be an 8th note. Our musicianship won’t allow us to be sloppy in these things.
“You get the biggest sound out of what you’re working with. Once you hear my band, you’re going to realize that I don’t use guitars like others use guitars. I don’t have such a thing as lead or rhythm guitar. The rhythmic articulations we use give the band a real fullness.
“The most important thing to a drum- mer
is a bass player. Good ones who you can relate to and who can relate to
you are few and far between. A bass player who understands your way of
playing is priceless. You’ll start making music. I had this kid, Albert Stinson, in my band. He was 16 when he joined my band, man. He was a young genius in ability and musical knowledge—one
of those few bass players who would pick out the best notes in a chord
to play. The bassist with me now, Paul Ramsey, uses electric bass, but
he sounds as close to upright as you can get when he walks.”
After several versions of the original quintet instrumentation, Chico’s band metamorphosed into various formats. Recording sessions and performances under his skillful leadership featured a parade of creative notables such as reedmen Harold Land, Charlie Mariano, Jerome Richardson, Sadao Watanabe, Arnie Lawrence and Arthur Blythe, bassists Ron Carter and Richard Davis, and percussionist Willie Bobo.
“Regarding the term ‘chamber jazz,’ I understand the commercial aspect. Anything to be sold has to have a title. That comes under the heading of marketing. I understand that, having worked on Madison Avenue. That’s alright. But if people are going to refer to my music, I would like for them to refer to it as ‘Chico’s Music,’ just like Duke wanted his music to be known as ‘Duke Ellington’s Music’—not ‘jazz.’ This is Chico’s Music. That’s all I’m doing—playing the way I feel.”
In the tune “El Moors,” a sinuous
Eastern-flavored legato line of flute and trombone weaves above the
delicate but insistent pulse of Chico’s mallet work on pitched toms. The descending toms motif unifies
the piece, acting as a melodic/ rhythmic ostinato and the accompanying
“tuned” cowbell serves as a pedal point. Rarely is the melodic drumming
concept more literal. Some agile wrist work is involved in the piece, but what lingers with the
listener is the sound—in this case, an exotic, haunting chant. The
sound is the goal and so Chico shows only mild interest in discussing
the means—technique.
“I maintain a triad in tuning. You’ve got
three drums; get three different sounds. The biggest drum tends to be
tuned as the root. I go by my own ear. I’m very interested in intervals.
I’m more interested in constructing a composition or superimposing
on a composition—working backwards towards it. I don’t think about the
rudimental aspect—whether I’ll use a seven-stroke roll, flams, or
whatever. In my solos, it’s just whatever it takes to duplicate the
sound I hear. I want to do what any other instrumentalist would do who
composes while playing; I try to keep the solos interesting.
“I never had a problem about being ambidextrous. I can lead off with my left or right. It doesn’t matter to me. I think it was always there but I developed it too. I figured that anything I could do with my right hand,
I had to do with my left. Even now, when I practice, I probably don’t
practice like the average player would, because once I’ve played
something, I don’t want to play it anymore. That’s why, during the
course of my band’s set, we’re going to run the gamut. We’re going to
take you on all kinds of trips. I don’t stay in one groove. From tune to tune I change the groove, the mood, the feeling—everything. In practicing I just do a whole lot of press rolling, open and closed, because all I want to do is keep my chops nimble.
“The drummer’s job is like the loneliness
of the long-distance runner. The drummer is the loneliest dude in the
band. You’re totally alone because every member of the band depends on
you. If you’re playing in a large, 20-piece orchestra, there are 19
different ideas of tempo, and where the beat and time are. So it’s one
against 19, even with a conductor. You’re stone-cold alone. [laughs] You
have to be strong-willed, because it’s a simple matter to get caught up
in somebody else’s groove. If the trumpet players are playing here and
the saxophone players are playing there, it’s very easy for you to get
caught in either of their grooves. You have to make up your mind, ‘Hey, man, I am it. Either you go with me or forget it!’ It’s gone on from the very beginning. That’s why all drummers have a rapport. We have a rapport that other musicians don’t have.”
Because Chico’s concept is rooted in “the
natural sound of the instrument” and he sees the drums as the sound
that determines the ensemble, the trend of producer/engineer-dictated
drum sounds common in contemporary recording is distasteful to him. “The
so-called contemporary producers, or engineers, in studios are a
danger. These are the worst people in the world, as far as I’m
concerned, because they virtually tried to destroy this natural instrument. This instrument was here before any of those damn so-called electronic geniuses were on the scene, and this instrument will be here when they’re gone, man. They’ve done more damage to drummers than anything possible. That’s the only
thing that I don’t really particularly dig about rock: They put a
muffle on things. They have tied drummers’ hands and feet. They have
tied their thinking and concept.
“You have got to understand that, in music, all we’re doing is dealing in human emotions; that’s all. We don’t create music,
man. Music is here. It’s been here— all around us. We’ve been blessed
to the extent that making music is what we do. We don’t make the music.
All we do is create a mood. We take all these things that we hear
and feel, and put them in a pattern. If the pattern is simple and has
continuity, everybody says, ‘Hey, yeah!’ because it gets through to
them. It’s not the melodic aspect of music that is the universal
language; it’s the rhythm. It’s the pulsation.
“Everybody is talking about drum machines.
I mean, in dealing with human emotions, man, how long can you keep your
hand on a button? The electronic aspect—I don’t put that down because
there’s a use for it if you can create a mood with it. But
it will never take the place of a human being putting rhythm to
something, regardless of how successful it may be from a commercial
standpoint of selling records and all that bullshit. The one thing that
you can’t substitute is a drummer—a live human being playing a set of
drums.
“I have a student now. I don’t usually
teach. He’s a rock ‘n’ roller. He wants to know how to get involved in
playing jazz. He already has chops but his whole concept is different.
This is a hell of a challenge. I’m going to try to instill in him touch,
sound, concept and why you play and approach the instrument the way you
do, as opposed to being restricted like he was keeping time for rock
‘n’ roll. I’m more or less changing his ’embouchure.’ Also, I want to
show him how to get power without getting volume.
“One thing about playing with electronic
instruments today is that you have to have power and strength. You have
to sit there and keep that one damn beat going while somebody’s jumping
up and down in front of you getting their jollies. Bands aren’t making any music, just variations
of sound. It’s awfully disheartening for a drummer. It’s not right for
what the instrument is. I mean, when you think about the people who
invented ways of playing and approaching this instrument and have
created things on this instrument—the way Jo Jones approached the sock
cymbal, and things like Max Roach and Art Blakey have done—it’s a shame
to let it go down the drain because some asses are into something else.
“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong
with just laying it in the pocket. But there is something wrong with
laying it in the pocket and not being able to change your sound around.
Cymbals aren’t supposed to be padded. Otherwise, why did Old Man
Zildjian make them? [laughs] You don’t have to put anything on these
drums. All it is is pure drum. You don’t get a chance to control
your sound playing that form of music. I haven’t seen or heard anybody
who really has. I’m not talking about the funk bands. That’s a different
kind of thing altogether. As a matter of fact, I think that one of the
most brilliant fatback drummers in the world is Bernard Purdie. You
can’t get any better than that. I’d love to be able to do some of the
things that he does. I’m talking about the so-called groups that are
supposed to be heroes, or miraculous musicians you might see on Entertainment Tonight or MTV.
“Fortunately, every time I have recorded,
I recorded for myself. That’s the reason I’m not recording. [laughs]
When record companies recorded me, they recorded me because of my sound. That’s what
people would buy. I’m not a phony and I’m not a thief. How could I tone
my drums down to the extent that they have pads all over them? That’s
not me.
“Some artists today have had to change their music in self-defense. There’s nothing wrong with that. That’s not what I’m talking about. There are some rock drummers who
I hear and like. They play the hell out of it. There are some R&B
drummers that 1 like. I’m not restricted in regard to what I like and
don’t like. I probably like some things that might make you think I’m
crazy. Whatever grabs me, grabs me. I’m not interested in how much chops
somebody’s got. What interests me is what that person does with what.
What can drummers do with the circumstances they are in? What are they
doing to help make the sound? That’s the important thing. It’s not a question of putting rock ‘n’ roll drummers down. I just think it’s not right what the engineers have brainwashed the general public with.
“I really don’t know what the future is
for a person who wants to learn the instrument and eventually play in a
band or orchestra. Record companies are making it totally impossible for
a drummer to make a living now. How many drummers actually see the
inside of a studio now? Or if they do, are they actually playing the
drums as opposed to working out a sync combination with a drum machine?
It hasn’t affected me directly because I haven’t been in the studio
lately. [laughs] Also, it hasn’t affected me because I’m not a sideman. I
don’t depend on studio calls for a living. On the other hand, I’m
affected by it because all record companies are prejudiced now to my
kind of thing.
“The status quo is that mediocrity is king. It’s unfortunate because young people don’t know what excellence is if they settle for
the stuff that they see and hear. They will never know the essence of
the best unless they reach out and say, ‘There’s got to be more. I want
to see more!’ You’re supposed to give your best to music. It’s for the
people—for the world. And the world deserves to hear the very best there
is. Having integrity will virtually keep you playing—keep you trying to progress and improve. It’s just like seeking knowledge.
“As long as record companies are in
stone-cold control of their own destiny, things probably will never
happen again like they were. This particular form of music will go on
and on forever because there will always be X amount of people who will
dig it. It’s not going to be multitudes, but there will always be a
comfortable amount of people who will want to listen to this particular
form of music which they call ‘jazz.’ Whether it’s in this country or
not, the world loves it. Europe, Japan—if that’s where the market is,
that’s where you go.”
A market certainly exists for Chico at
home, but his tours abroad have been received with open arms as well.
Some of his outstanding European ventures include a 1965 series of
London appearances for which he reorganized his group in order to back
Lena Horne, and outstanding performances with his own band at the
Montreux Jazz Festival in 1972 and 1973. But Chico’s first journeys to
Japan and London are the travel experiences he recalls with the most
enthusiasm.
“I toured with my band in Japan and it was amazing. The first time I went to Japan—and this is the truth—when we got off the plane, I was standing in front of my wife
when they opened the door of the plane. We looked out and it looked as
if there were 50,000, maybe 100,000 people at the airport waving flags. I
turned around to my wife and said, ‘Hey! Somebody really important must
be on this plane.’ I thought it was a king or something, [laughs] I
swear, I had no idea that it was for me. That was my reception. I had followed Art Blakey over there. It was just amazing.
“The audiences were incredible. They knew
everything that we were doing. Everything! I went up to the northern
extreme of Japan—up to Sasebo—where it was so cold. The people
were dressed like Manchurians and they were as white as ghosts but they
had the reddest cheeks because of the cold. We got up there and I
thought, ‘Why the hell are they booking me way up here? These people
don’t know anything about me or jazz.’ That was the most completely
wrong thing I had ever thought in my life. Man, these people knew when I
was born! They knew everything about me musically—who I played
with. It was amazing and they dug everything we did, man. And when I
played some of the Ellington things that they were more familiar with,
they would sing along. Japan was very beautiful.
“The first time I went to London, I was the first American musician allowed to play in London in 25 years because of the union thing. I went over there with Lena Horne in 1950, and I met guys like Ronnie Scott, Johnny Dankworth and Lennie Bush. Man, we used to have a ball. We used to play all night long for days—for days!
It was amazing also to find that the English musicians were as hip to
what was going on as they were. At that time, they were not able to hear
American jazz other than what
was brought over there on records. They didn’t get a chance to hear
people live because the two unions were at war, and they didn’t allow
American musicians to go over there and play. England was amazing too.”
The tool for the master’s touch is a
drumset that he initially invented out of necessity, and later developed
and fine tuned for his taste. The first thing a drummer will notice is
the surprising choice of bass drum—a 16″ floor tom extended to 17″
length and fitted with spurs and a rack tom holder. While playing a
steady date with Gerry Mulligan in a very small club with lively
acoustics, Chico used a 16″ for a bass to keep tighter control over the
volume and sound. “It was either no drum or stamp on the floor with your
shoe.” Over the years, the 16″ became his standard bass—its sound naturally meshing with the whole sound concept of the kit.
Currently, Chico uses that bass with a 5
1/2 X 14 wood snare, 8 x 12 rack tom, and a 14 x 14 floor tom. To his
right are an additional four toms mounted on a rack. (“I don’t even know
the measurements. The two smallest are bongo size. I just know that
they make a dynamite triad sound.”) The cymbals, all Zildjian, are 14″
hi-hats, a 20″, 22″, and an 18″ with rivets. They are positioned very
low, with the right-hand ride being snare level. The drumset is a mixture of parts but primarily based on Gretsch shells.
All the toms have tightly tensioned single heads. The origin of single-head drumkits is often credited to Chico. A one-headed
tom allows for easier control of pitch, and is ideal for the kind of
definition needed by Chico when he approaches the drum with a sharp
timbale-like crack. As Chico executes one of his trademark methods of
one hand playing cross-stick on the rim, while the other hand alternates
between striking the cross-stick, the rim, the snare (set for
snares-off), and tom, the high-pitched, single-headed sound perfectly
complements the rim and cross-stick sound to create the aural illusion
of multiple Latin percussion. The single-head concept was also born out of necessity. “During the war—World War II that is [laughs]—before
the transitional period to plastic heads, you couldn’t get calf heads
easily. I used my ingenuity and said, ‘One head is cheaper than two, and
you can only play on one head at one time.’ So, I started that,
and the whole world is doing that now. For years, I was the only one
using a set like that. And then, lo and behold, the rockers got into it.
Gretsch used my model and it became very popular for them. I designed
the model with Phil Grant, who was Vice President of Gretsch when
Gretsch was located in Brooklyn.”
Like any individualistic musician, Chico
has had his ups and downs with record companies. By now he knows the
game, good and bad, after having dealt with many labels, including Blue
Note, Mercury, World Pacific, Columbia, Solid State, and Warner/Reprise.
Nomad, on Elektra Records, is his most recent album release and a
disc he’s quite proud of. His most memorable and fulfilling association
with a record label, however, remains his years contracted with
Impulse/ABC.
This fertile period produced the albums Dealer, El Chico, The Man From Two Worlds, Passin’ Thru, Chic Chic Chico, The Further Adventures Of, and the compilations, Best Of and His Great Hits. Several
Impulse record jackets portrayed the image of Chico as the man with
high style—”chic Chico.” There he was, shouldering an elegant red cape,
sporting an ultra-fine suit, or inhaling from a long cigarette holder
with a sophisticated squint. But the real proof of personal flair was
preserved on the vinyl within.
“Bob Thiele at Impulse Records was one of
the best producers of all time. I think that Dick Bock is also one of
the best producers. They were, in my career, the best I have come
across. The reason why they were the best is that Bob Thiele would sit in the booth and say, ‘Hey, you’ve got it’
and Dick would do virtually the same thing regarding what you would
play and how you would play. When it was time for them to give
constructive criticism, it was in regard to the approach or presentation. That’s when they would comment. Other than that, they would let a musician go. That’s how ‘Trane was able to do the things he was able to do on Impulse Records. Dick Bock was with Pacific Jazz Records. Incidentally, I made the first record Pacific ever made. It was in conjunction with Gerry Mulligan and Chet Baker.
“I’ll tell you what amazes me with
recording now. I really don’t believe it takes a quarter of a million
dollars to make a record, [laughs] I really don’t understand that it
takes a whole year to make an album. We used to record an album in three hours, man. Go in and do it! Everything
now is high-tech. If you’re buying a record for the high-tech aspect of
it, that’s something else. That has nothing to do with the performance
or music, unfortunately.
“The Impulse sessions were very loose and
very relaxed. We tried to do our very best. We didn’t go in and goof.
You know, the days of going in the studio, getting high and waiting
until everybody’s knocked out to try to play—hey, that’s bullshit, man.
There was nothing of this sort. You couldn’t play if you were high. And I
defy anyone today to make some music—to really play—when they’re
high. The instrument that you’re playing demands that you stay cool.
First of all, when you went into the studio, man, you were prepared. You
knew exactly what you were going to do as far as the tunes and concept.
Then the creative aspect came with the improvisation.
“There was a time when record companies
would get more involved with their artists. They would underwrite an act
or group in a club—pay the salaries of the band so that the band could
get the exposure so they could sell more records. However, a bad side
effect resulted. Eventually, clubs got to the point where, if a band
didn’t have a record, they wouldn’t use it, especially in the cities.
That has done a lot to keep new talented people off the scene.
“I did an album for Blue Note called Pereginations. Unfortunately,
it got caught in a trap because Blue Note went out of business as soon
as it came out. The general public didn’t get to hear the album, but it
was excellent. It featured Arthur Blythe on sax and Joe Beck on guitar.
Unfortunately, most artists who record with record companies have very little to do, or nothing to do, with the exploitation of their product. Once you leave the studio and they pay you, that’s it. It’s left in the hands of the people in the companies that they consider to be their hot shots. And if the
hot shot doesn’t particularly care for you or your record, it’s
over—just totally over. It has nothing to do with whether the product is good or bad. It’s out of your hands.
“Of course, I’ve been a little more fortunate than a whole lot of people who record. My records have always sold, and they still sell. They might not sell in the hundreds of thousands, but they still sell. And whenever somebody grabs up a Chico Hamilton master and re-releases it, it sells. I’m going to be recording again soon and I’m looking forward to it.”
Chico’s lament for the jazz musician’s plight in the modern world of record company restrictions is spoken bluntly, but not in bitter tones. The urgency of his words reveals more specifically a concern for the danger of accepting limitations without questions—a danger for listeners as well as musicians. The rewards and struggles of Chico’s
career have come from constant change, risk taking, and a firm stand on
artistic standards. However, he does concede that, in some cases,
compromises must be made on the climb to building a name, especially for
today’s industry-pressured young players. It’s just that he hates to
see anyone sold short when it comes to music. (“It’s not that some of
the pop music isn’t at the peak of perfection that bothers me, but that
it’s so limited.”) It pleases him to see young players get a fair
crack at realizing their potential. He has always had a reputation of
keeping an open ear for young, “unknown” talents and has often nabbed
them for his group. Whenever the opportunity arises, he’s also quick to
give aspiring drummers encouragement.
“The most important thing is to be able
to establish the fact that you know what you’re doing, and you’re good
at your craft. If you have to sit down and play straitlaced on
something, then sit down and be straitlaced. Give anybody what they
want. But when you reach a point where you’re tired of giving
other people what they want, then you move on to something else. That’s
all. You try to play with as many different kinds of people as is
humanly possible. Try to play in all kinds of situations.
“I don’t have to play anybody else’s
music. I make my own music. That’s how I know that I’m among the ones
who have been blessed. I don’t care if anyone wants to hear it. I know
what I’m doing. I’m not fluffing anything. I’m doing the best that I possibly can. When you reach a point where
you say, ‘I’m going to do it myself; I’ll put together my own thing,’
you’ll be ready to do it because you’re willing to take the chance. It’s
not so much that I had a special musical statement. It’s just that
there was no turning back for me when I started playing for myself.”
Chico’s usual cautionary advice to developing players on the hazards of the music business includes a warning on the friend/foe of the musician—critics. Critics can
help, he claims, but don’t let them hinder. “I don’t think critics
influence at all. I don’t know of any critic who would influence any
sincere, talented musician—one that has
a gift. Whatever the musician’s direction is—dealing with the spiritual
aspect of it, he’s called, man. I believe that. What the hell does a
critic know of how you feel about playing your instrument? If there
weren’t people who don’t care about critics, then instruments wouldn’t
be as advanced as they are. Man, when they invented the trombone, nobody
thought it could be played like J. J. Johnson or Trummy Young. Old Man Trombone would turn over in his grave saying, ‘Damn! I didn’t know they could get that!’ Where critics didn’t like it—hey, man, it was unbelievable! Mr. Sax himself never knew that the saxophone could be played like Charlie Parker and Pres played it.”
Film is a major medium for Chico’s sound.
During his stay with Lena, Chico played on studio soundtrack sessions
for Paramount Pictures, and years later, his quintet was featured on
camera in a segment of Jazz On A Summer’s Day (1960), a
celebrated Newport Jazz Festival feature-length documentary. Several
major films have been scored by Chico (he usually also plays on the
soundtracks), most recent of which was the Canadian release, By Design (1982). The credit that initially opened New York doors for Chico Hamilton Productions was his previous success with two films scored before his move to the East. The first film was The Sweet Smell OfSuccess (1957), scripted by major American playwright Clifford Odetts, and the second, which sealed Chico’s reputation, was Roman Polanski’s psychological suspense drama, Repulsion (1965).
Polanski’s film is effective in its
unsettling subconscious prodding and bizarre, shadowy tone. The choice
of music was crucial. A too-Hollywood sound would never do and cliche
string parts would have clumsily ruined the film’s subtleties. Repulsion is an original, so the only musical solution was another original. Polanski gave
full confidence to Chico. The resultant film is a classic. “Roman
Polanski, without a doubt, is the finest director that I have ever
worked with, and the reason why is that he never forgot, through the
whole time we worked together, why he hired me. He wanted my feeling and
he wanted the way I felt about his scenes—his movie. I’ve worked with
directors who have hated everything I’ve done, [laughs) In that whole
film, I had about 25 music cues and there were no ‘ifs’ or ‘buts’ about
any of it—none of it. I cued that film myself. In other words, he didn’t
tell me where he wanted music. He left the entire thing up to me. I was
his musical director.
“I didn’t realize at the time that I had a
film sense. But 1 was very good at motifs and that helped me. I became
successful doing commercials for Madison Avenue because I could think in
terms of 30 seconds, 28 seconds, 59, or whatever. I was on the set
every day and I would watch Roman direct a scene. That night I would go
home, write it, and then put it all together. Working with Polanski was
dynamite.”
This summer, Chico’s current lineup of two guitars, sax, bass and “the instrument” let their sound blow free at the closing concert of New York’s Jazzmobile series. The season’s largest turnout—all ages, all colors—arrived early to jockey for positions with their lawn chairs and blankets, in order to get the prime sight and sound of the one, the only, the original Chico. By the time the band climbed on stage, the lawn chair “front orchestra section” was bulging out to the bushes. The rear flanks were shoulder to shoulder, butt-sore from sitting on the grey stone steps
of Grant’s Tomb, and the more adventurous found seating atop statues or
perches in the trees. Then the instrument sang out. “Chico’s Music”
shot high-spirited pulsations through the crowd, making them forget
their cramped quarters. Old Man Drum probably never imagined it could be played like that.
“We had six-, seven-, and eight-year-old kids
out there break dancing, and we had 60- and 70-year-old people dancing.
So we covered it. From nine to 90, people flipped over it. If you see
and hear me play, I’m pretty sure you’ll never say, ‘Hey! That’s just
like so-and-so did.’ You won’t ever think that when you hear me play.
What I do is natural; it’s mine. I think the greatest compliment that I could ever have is the fact that, when people hear me play, they say, ‘Oh, yeah, that’s Chico Hamilton.’ ” You can’t be more blessed than that.
Chico Hamilton appearing at the Charlie Parker Jazz Festival in Tompkins Square Park, New York City, August 26, 2007
Foreststorn "Chico" Hamilton, (September 20, 1921 – November 25, 2013) was an American jazz drummer and bandleader. He came to prominence as sideman for Lester Young, Gerry Mulligan, Count Basie, and Lena Horne.
Hamilton became a bandleader, first with a quintet featuring the cello
as a lead instrument, an unusual choice for a jazz band in the 1950s,
and subsequently leading bands that performed cool jazz, post bop, and jazz fusion.
Hamilton released Foreststorn in 2001 featuring Euphoria with Cary DeNigris on guitar, Paul Ramsey
on bass, and a new two-horn front line with Eric Lawrence on alto and
soprano saxes and Evan Schwam on tenor sax, as well as guest appearances
from former band members and others. In August 2001, he performed My Funny Valentine: A Tribute to Chico Hamilton at Lincoln Center.
In 1997, Hamilton received the New School University Jazz and Contemporary Music Programs' Beacons in Jazz Award
in recognition for his "significant contribution to the evolution of
Jazz". In 2002, he was awarded the WLIU-FM Radio Lifetime Achievement
Award. At the IAJE in NYC January 2004, he was awarded a NEA Jazz Master Fellowship.[10] In December 2006, Congress confirmed the nomination of Hamilton to the President's Council on the Arts.[11] In 2007, he received a Living Legend Jazz Award as part of The Kennedy Center's Jazz in Our Time Festival,[12][13] as well as being awarded a Doctor of Fine Arts from The New School.[14] In 2006, Hamilton released four CDs on Joyous Shout! in celebration of his 85th birthday. In 2007, he released Hamiltonia,
sampling his original compositions from the four albums released in
2006. Over the years, Hamilton had a series of dance successes,
including his signature song "Conquistadors" from his 1960s Impulse album El Chico, and the Brazilian-influenced song "Strut" from his 1980 Elektra album, Nomad.
In 2002, a track titled "For Mods Only" from his 1966 Impulse! Records album The Dealer, was included on the Thievery Corporation's Sounds from the Verve Hi-Fi. In 2006, Rong Music released the 12-inch vinyl Kerry's Caravan by Mudd
and Hamilton, with remixes from Ray Mang. Several remixes of Hamilton's
recordings were released in the late 2000s. He released Twelve Tones of Love
on Joyous Shout! in 2009. In March 2011, he had a long recording
session, resulting in 28 new tracks with his Euphoria group. Following a
health setback in 2010, he and the group began weekly rehearsals at
Hamilton's Penthouse A; which brought together the material which would
comprise Revelation, an 11-track CD, released in 2011.
Death
Hamilton died aged 92 on November 25, 2013 in Manhattan.[15]
Hamilton was survived by his daughter (Denise), a brother, a
granddaughter and two great-granddaughters. His wife, Helen, and his
brother Bernie, an actor who starred in Starsky and Hutch, both died in 2008.[16] On June 25, 2019, The New York Times Magazine listed Chico Hamilton among hundreds of artists whose material was reportedly destroyed in the 2008 Universal fire.[17]
Obituary, theguardian.com, November 26, 2013; accessed July 15, 2015.
THE MUSIC OF CHICO HAMILTON: AN EXTENSIVE VIDEO OVERVIEW, A CROSS SECTION OF RECORDINGS, MUSICAL ANALYSIS AND COMMENTARY, PLUS VARIOUS INTERVIEWS WITH CHICO HAMILTON:
Kofi Natambu, editor of and contributor to Sound Projections, is a writer, poet, cultural critic, and political journalist whose poetry, essays, criticism, reviews, and journalism have appeared in many literary magazines, journals, newspapers, and anthologies. He has written extensively about music as a critic and historian for many publications, including the Black Scholar, Downbeat, Solid Ground: A New World Journal, Detroit Metro Times, KONCH, the Panopticon Review,Black Renaissance Noire, the Village Voice, the City Sun (NYC), the Poetry Project Newsletter (NYC), and the African American Review. He is the author of a biography Malcolm X: His Life & Work (Alpha Books) and two books of poetry: The Melody Never Stops (Past Tents Press) and Intervals (Post Aesthetic Press). He was the founder and editor of Solid Ground: A New World Journal, a national quarterly magazine of the arts, culture, and politics and the editor of a literary anthology Nostalgia for the Present (Post Aesthetic Press). Natambu has read his work throughout the country and given many lectures and workshops at academic and arts institutions. He has taught American literature, literary theory and criticism, cultural history and criticism, film studies, political science, creative writing, philosophy, critical theory, and music history and criticism (Jazz, Blues, R&B, Hip Hop) at many universities and colleges. He was also a curator in the Education Department of Detroit’s Museum of African American History. Born in Detroit, Michigan, Natambu currently lives in Berkeley, California with his wife Chuleenan.
Chico Hamilton 
