Kathleen Loves Music

Hank Jones
‘Bop Redux
Produced by Fred Seibert, in association with Dick Ables
Grammy Nominee, 1977, Best Jazz Instrumental Performance - Soloist

Click the titles to play.
1. Yardbird Suite
2. Confirmation
3. Rudy, My Dear
4. Relaxin’ With Lee
5. Bloomdido
6. ‘Round Midnight
7. Moose the Mooche
8. Monk’s Mood

Hank Jones: Piano
George Duvivier: Bass
Ben Riley: Drums

Hank Jones had been a exemplar jazz journeyman until he took a full time day job in the CBS Orchestra in 1952. This record date, the first after his contract finally expired, was arranged by Muse Records’ owner Joe Fields, and he cordially to handle the production. My primary contribution –I was a wet behind the ears 26 year old with no particular skills– was suggesting the jazz standards repetoire as a respite from the relentlessness of the “energy” avant-garde of the previous 10 years. I also chose the engineer and studio, asked Hank to avoid bass solos, named the album after John Updike’s ‘Rabbit Redux,’ and got my friend and partner-to-be Alan Goodman to write the liner notes.

Hank, George and Ben showed up both day punctually at 10am, in jackets and ties, and played their asses off. The best story? As Hank was working through “Monk’s Mood” he told me he’d learned the piece when Monk asked him to write out the lead sheets, since Monk couldn’t write music.

–Fred Seibert
…..
Credits
Muse Records MR 5123
Hank Jones
‘Bop Redux

Hank Jones: Piano, George Duvivier: Bass, Ben Riley: Drums

Produced by Fred Seibert, in association with Dick Ables
Engineered by Chuck Irwin, CI Recording (110 W57th Street, NYC)
January 18 & 19, 1977

Cover Photograph & Design by Carol Friedman
…..
Liner notes:

From the original release:
Few musicians tour and perform more steadily, in so many far-flung places, than pianist Hank Jones. Yet, he may be completely unknown to people who are aware of jazz primarily through radio and records. An issue of Swing Journal pictured albums of solo and trio dates on Verve, another series of recordings from the mid-fifties on Savoy, Capitol, and other labels, and just a small sampling from his resume as a sideman and accompanist. Almost all of the records are unavailable in the USA.

For fifteen years, he was a staff musician with CBS, and many times, parts written especially for Hank Jones would go to a substitute when Hank was needed for the Ed Sullivan or Jackie Gleason shows, a musical special starring Carol Burnett or Barbara Streisand, or one of the many weekly series on network TV and radio.

Since the CBS orchestra was disbanded in 1973, Hank has been choosing for himself some fascinating assignments: he toured with Benny Goodman (which is something he did years ago), made one album with three other pianists, traveled to Japan many times an recorded albums available in that country with variations of his Great Jazz Trio — a group that usually had included Ron Carter and Tony Williams. When he isn’t flying to another engagement he fits in a nightclub appearance.

This was Hank’s first recording for Muse and was something of a departure from his regular approach to recording. He can reach into a stockpile containing thousands of tunes, but instead selected only two composers to help him dig into bebop. When Hank recorded with Charlie Parker, he had been based in New York for six years, playing piano at the Onyx Club and other 52nd Street haunts, working with swing bands and transitional groups, and touring the world with Ella Fitzgerald and with Jazz at the Philharmonic. But even today, bebop is especially suited to a virtuoso’s art. Hank can play chorus after chorus, always finding a new and curious way to say beautiful things. He breaks time with irregularly-spaced hurdles. Even during short bursts, there is something toward which he is working.

Throughout the album, there are special Hank Jones touches you hardly notice: the delicate filigrees that will sometimes separate introduction from the theme, the way he sustains notes uniformly at the end of repeating phrase. Plenty of Hank’s special touches are right out in the open: for one, his deep appreciation for closely-voiced chords. Like Art Tatum, he constantly shifts heavy handfuls of them as easily as some people swing their pockets. After Ellington, he pays strict attention to the flow of melody and the ascension into song. Although their styles of phrasing are miles apart, he and the late Erroll Garner share a talent for certifying selections. Theirs sound like the first authentic versions. For all of his public performing, Hank plays liek a man who is often alone with music. His improvisations on “Yardbird Suite” and “Confirmation” are stories with the important inner details intact. A moderate tempo swing buoys “Bloomdido,” and Hank punctures “Moose the Mooche” with clean, precise darts to let the song’s inherent humor escape. “Relaxin’ With Lee,” based on “Stompin’ at the Savoy” changes, sums the course of the entire session. Hank Jones is not a musician who plays only when the tapes are rolling. When they are, he can relax with a special, casual attention to business.

It is on the three ballads by Thelonius Monk that Hank uses his position as chief soloist and keeper of the chords to particular advantage. His overview of the keyboard and closeness to Monk’s compositions allow him to range generously through the pieces. When Hank thought to record one of them at the session, he remembered as well his own long-term involvement with the tune: back in 1946 or ‘47, Monk phoned him to ask if he would write down a song that had just been composed. The song turned out to be “Monk’s Mood,” one of his rough-hewn gems. Compared to Monk’s version, where every phrase is a jagged chant, Hank takes liberties with the rhythm, hangs onto the passing tones before letting them gently resolve, and in the process strokes the song into something more symphonic.

His partners here, Duvivier and Riley, came to the project with distinguished pedigrees. George Duvivier worked in many orchestras and bands during the forties, performed with Bud Powell on some of Verve recordings, and through the years has appeared with symphonies in New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Cleveland, and with singers all over the world. Another studio veteran, he has played on three TV networks.

Ben Riley sifted through a score of bands from the late fifties, with Nina Simone, Kenny Currell, Randy Weston, Sonny Rollins, and others, before settling in with Monk in the sixties. He has taught in elementary school and junior college on Long Island, in addition to appearing with Ron Carter and recording with the New York Jazz Quartet, Alice Coltrane, Kenny Burrell, and many others.

Hank Jones shows no signs of slowing down his hectic pace, which is as limitless as his beboping abilities. One hopes for more “redux”-ing of the jazz traditions he has known, for many more years of his warming touch and quiet finesse.

Few musicians tour and perform more steadily, in so many far-flung places, than pianist Hank Jones. Yet, he may be completely unknown to people who are aware of jazz primarily through radio and records. An issue of Swing Journal pictured albums of solo and trio dates on Verve, another series of recordings from the mid-fifties on Savoy, Capitol, and other labels, and just a small sampling from his resume as a sideman and accompanist. Almost all of the records are unavailable in the USA.

For fifteen years, he was a staff musician with CBS, and many times, parts written especially for Hank Jones would go to a substitute when Hank was needed for the Ed Sullivan or Jackie Gleason shows, a musical special starring Carol Burnett or Barbara Streisand, or one of the many weekly series on network TV and radio.

Since the CBS orchestra was disbanded in 1973, Hank has been choosing for himself some fascinating assignments: he toured with Benny Goodman (which is something he did years ago), made one album with three other pianists, traveled to Japan many times an recorded albums available in that country with variations of his Great Jazz Trio — a group that usually had included Ron Carter and Tony Williams. When he isn’t flying to another engagement he fits in a nightclub appearance.

This was Hank’s first recording for Muse and was something of a departure from his regular approach to recording. He can reach into a stockpile containing thousands of tunes, but instead selected only two composers to help him dig into bebop. When Hank recorded with Charlie Parker, he had been based in New York for six years, playing piano at the Onyx Club and other 52nd Street haunts, working with swing bands and transitional groups, and touring the world with Ella Fitzgerald and with Jazz at the Philharmonic. But even today, bebop is especially suited to a virtuoso’s art. Hank can play chorus after chorus, always finding a new and curious way to say beautiful things. He breaks time with irregularly-spaced hurdles. Even during short bursts, there is something toward which he is working.

Throughout the album, there are special Hank Jones touches you hardly notice: the delicate filigrees that will sometimes separate introduction from the theme, the way he sustains notes uniformly at the end of repeating phrase. Plenty of Hank’s special touches are right out in the open: for one, his deep appreciation for closely-voiced chords. Like Art Tatum, he constantly shifts heavy handfuls of them as easily as some people swing their pockets. After Ellington, he pays strict attention to the flow of melody and the ascension into song. Although their styles of phrasing are miles apart, he and the late Erroll Garner share a talent for certifying selections. Theirs sound like the first authentic versions. For all of his public performing, Hank plays liek a man who is often alone with music. His improvisations on “Yardbird Suite” and “Confirmation” are stories with the important inner details intact. A moderate tempo swing buoys “Bloomdido,” and Hank punctures “Moose the Mooche” with clean, precise darts to let the song’s inherent humor escape. “Relaxin’ With Lee,” based on “Stompin’ at the Savoy” changes, sums the course of the entire session. Hank Jones is not a musician who plays only when the tapes are rolling. When they are, he can relax with a special, casual attention to business.

It is on the three ballads by Thelonius Monk that Hank uses his position as chief soloist and keeper of the chords to particular advantage. His overview of the keyboard and closeness to Monk’s compositions allow him to range generously through the pieces. When Hank thought to record one of them at the session, he remembered as well his own long-term involvement with the tune: back in 1946 or ‘47, Monk phoned him to ask if he would write down a song that had just been composed. The song turned out to be “Monk’s Mood,” one of his rough-hewn gems. Compared to Monk’s version, where every phrase is a jagged chant, Hank takes liberties with the rhythm, hangs onto the passing tones before letting them gently resolve, and in the process strokes the song into something more symphonic.

His partners here, Duvivier and Riley, came to the project with distinguished pedigrees. George Duvivier worked in many orchestras and bands during the forties, performed with Bud Powell on some of Verve recordings, and through the years has appeared with symphonies in New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Cleveland, and with singers all over the world. Another studio veteran, he has played on three TV networks.

Ben Riley sifted through a score of bands from the late fifties, with Nina Simone, Kenny Currell, Randy Weston, Sonny Rollins, and others, before settling in with Monk in the sixties. He has taught in elementary school and junior college on Long Island, in addition to appearing with Ron Carter and recording with the New York Jazz Quartet, Alice Coltrane, Kenny Burrell, and many others.

Hank Jones shows no signs of slowing down his hectic pace, which is as limitless as his beboping abilities. One hopes for more “redux”-ing of the jazz traditions he has known, for many more years of his warming touch and quiet finesse.

–Alan Goodman

…..
From the 1997 reissue:
There are certain artists who are in complete command of their powers. They take the less obvious route, stunning you with nuance, suggestion and subtlety rather than relying on flash. The great English actor Paul Scofield comes to mind, so does the painter Mark Rothko. So, too, does Hank Jones.

Adjectives such as “elegant” and “immaculate” always pop up when Hank’s playing is discussed. Possessed of as much technique as any of the other gians of modern jazz piano, Hank has always dispensed it with restraint. When other pianists cite their favorite players, Hank Jones is always on everyone’s short list.

Because the songs on the two albums contained herein draw on the bebop tradition, they’re especially easy to listen to together. But in reality any two Hank Jones records go well together. Simply stated, he’s one of the ones.

Keep A Light In The Window
Joel Dorn
Spring ‘97
…..
Copyrights and masters owned by their respective owners. I’m posting many of my out-of-print record productions from the 1970s. If any of them are re-released, or the copyright owners object, I’ll delete the posts.