Monday night found me back at Zeb's on the West Side for another of Will Friedwald's iconoclastic "Clip Joints"--this one in honor of the Billie Holiday Centennial. During a year that is already producing a glut of celebratory events (given that it's also the Frank Sinatra Centennial year), leave it to the intriguing and obsessive writer/journalist/producer to come up with something different. Instead of a roster of vocalists live or on film, performing material we now think of reflexively as belonging to Lady Day, we were offered the singular piano interpretations of Lara Downes, recollections by alto saxophonist Jerry Dodgion (who at age 22 played with Holiday), and eclectic clips from television and film appearances of the artist herself.
Despite, or perhaps because of a raspy, thin, untrained voice, and a background like something out of Dickens, Billie Holiday (born Eleanora Fagan, 1915-1959) created a seminal style respected and imitated by singers of successive generations. The artist's vocals are often compared to sounds of a musical instrument, her unique phrasing, improvisational ability, and original tempo remains immediately identifiable. A life plagued by struggles with drinking, drugs, and abusive relationships brought death at age 44. Having been swindled out of her earnings, Holiday is said to have died with 70 cents in the bank.
What we viewed on screen included, in part: Excerpts from 1956's Stars of Jazz television show, which features "My Man" dedicated to a husband she described glowingly in her autobiography Lady Sings the Blues, but who, Friedwald points out, "treated her horribly;" the short 1934 film of Duke Ellington's stirring "Symphony in Black," in which, though unknown, she secured a small role; and a 1950s short with Count Basie, which our host described as "The most dignified presentation she ever got from Hollywood."
There were musical numbers from the film New Orleans (photo right, released in 1947) for which, much to the horror of her friends, she played a uniformed maid (who sang.) Louis Armstrong was cast as her boyfriend. We watched what Friedwald cites as the "best version ever" of Satchmo's "Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans." It is, in fact, wonderful. Apparently the film itself is decidedly not. There's also an appearance on the 1957 television show, The Sound of Jazz (see clip, below), with many of the giants of her time. Friedwald's observation that "You can see the whole world on her face as she watches Lester Young's solo" rings true. Previous clips reveal little facial expression, whereas here she reacts emphatically to every note.
Classical pianist Lara Downes (photo below) evidently grew up listening to Holiday recordings. "As a musician I learned from Billie Holiday to make something completely personal when you make music . . . " Downes new CD, A Billie Holiday Songbook, with arrangements by Jed Distler (who duets with her later) is meant, she says, "to give a broad picture of Billie, her moods and colors."
Numbers vary from those that veer so far from melody they seem to be inspired by, rather than versions of the originals like "Billie's Blues" and "Strange Fruit" (I have trouble with dissonance in these), to renditions that captured the essence of material with authority and finesse. "Don't Explain" arrives with effective hesitation as if choking on emotion. Musical sidebars sound as if reflected through a melodic prism, part of the source, yet separately hued. "I Wished on the Moon" is filled with yearning. An aptly poignant "I'll Be Seeing You" is performed with more positive emotion than usual. Regrets are eschewed for a richness of recollected experience as if to say, as in Casablanca, "We'll Always Have Paris." "Ain't Nobody's Business" has controlled, ragtime inflection; staccato sass and spirit. Throughout, Downes' classical background is apparent imbuing the music with seriousness, depth, and original perspective.
During a long career as a sideman, alto saxophonist Jerry Dodgion (right in photo with Friedwald) toured with everyone from Red Norvo to Frank Sinatra, later acting as band leader for the recording The Joy of Sax. Dodgion was 22 when asked to join Billie Holiday's quartet for a two-week gig. Thoroughly intimidated, he first played only with the quartet, taking it upon himself to exit the stage as Holiday came on. Having once heard him, however, the icon requested he participate throughout. With no real charts, "I did my best to stay out of the way and play in meaningful places," Dodgion tells us deferentially. Looking for a place to test reeds, the sax player was invited into Holiday's dressing room where night after night she regaled him with stories. He describes her as "the farthest from a diva I've ever known." Affection and memory resonate.
A long, though excellent evening of Billie Holiday (pack a snack and your toothbrush for these) was followed by tribute to the great Julie Wilson who had died the day before at age 90. Wilson embodied the popular song "I'm Gonna Live Till I Die" often associated with her. She was as interested and active as humanly possibly till the last, offering sincere support and setting an example for younger vocalists. Viewing images of the artist in her talented, spark-flying hay day was fitting farewell.
Clip Joint is in residence at Zeb's 228 West 28th Street.
Learn about upcoming events such as: Call Me Irving-Tribute to Irving Berlin coming in May
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