Reprinted from http://jazzwax.com
Phil Woods, an alto saxophonist who idolized Charlie Parker, married his widow, developed one of the most signature sounds on his instrument in post-war small-group and big-band settings, carried on the bebop tradition long after others had moved on, became an exquisite composer-arranger and was perhaps best known for his iconic solo on Billy Joel's Just the Way You Are, died yesterday (Sept. 29). He was 83. [Photo of Phil Woods above by Milt Hinton]
As an artist, Phil had an admirable and elevated level of intensity, determination and ambition—not for himself but for jazz, which he championed religiously throughout his life. Starting in the 1950s, Phil recorded relentlessly as a leader and sideman, and was in solid demand as a soloist by big bands that wanted his urgent, crane-like bluesy sound soaring over the top of their ensembles. Yet Phil never felt he was better than anyone and was available to everyone. He simply put his faith in his passion for bebop without compromising or giving anything less than everything he had. To encounter Phil was to engage a gruff Teddy bear. He was too cuddly to be curt but he could be impatient with those who weren't hip to jazz or didn't seem to acknowledge that the music was special. For Phil, jazz was an all-in calling, a badge of honor, his duty to humanity and, most of all, a daily responsibility to honor the greats who preceded him. I'll miss Phil.
Here's my interview with Phil in 2009, with all four parts combined followed by nine stunning audio and video clips...
Phil Woods is blunt. And moody. And passionate. And fast
with a comeback line. Like many jazz greats, the alto saxophonist speaks the way he plays. His articulation and his instrumental attack share much in common. Both are refreshingly direct and raw with emotion. Whether Phil is talking or playing, you feel transfixed, as though a powerful invisible hand has reached out to hold you fast. From his earliest professional playing jobs, Phil has projected this unmistakable yearning sound on the alto sax that is drenched in blues and struggle. [Pictured: Phil Woods in 1956]
with a comeback line. Like many jazz greats, the alto saxophonist speaks the way he plays. His articulation and his instrumental attack share much in common. Both are refreshingly direct and raw with emotion. Whether Phil is talking or playing, you feel transfixed, as though a powerful invisible hand has reached out to hold you fast. From his earliest professional playing jobs, Phil has projected this unmistakable yearning sound on the alto sax that is drenched in blues and struggle. [Pictured: Phil Woods in 1956]
Starting in the mid-1950s, Phil's urgent sound soared on 
some of the finest recordings of the decade. During this period he recorded masterpiece solos with Dizzy Gillespie, Gene Quill, Neal Hefti, Gene Krupa, Quincy Jones and Michel Legrand. Phil also was frequently compared to Charlie Parker, especially after he married Parker's widow, Chan. Throughout his eight-decade career, Phil has made a practice of standing out, whether on straight-ahead jazz recordings or while adding solos to Billy Joel's Just the Way You Are and Steely Dan's Doctor Wu.
some of the finest recordings of the decade. During this period he recorded masterpiece solos with Dizzy Gillespie, Gene Quill, Neal Hefti, Gene Krupa, Quincy Jones and Michel Legrand. Phil also was frequently compared to Charlie Parker, especially after he married Parker's widow, Chan. Throughout his eight-decade career, Phil has made a practice of standing out, whether on straight-ahead jazz recordings or while adding solos to Billy Joel's Just the Way You Are and Steely Dan's Doctor Wu.
In my interview with Phil, the legendary saxophonist talks about how he accidentally came to the alto saxophone, the significance of his first music teacher, the real reason he took music lessons at age 15 with Lennie Tristano, and meeting Charlie Parker on the floor of a 52d Street club in the late 1940s:
JazzWax: When you’re digging in on a solo, what are we hearing—anger, love, pain, what?
Phil Woods: That’s for you guys to figure out. That would be immodest for me to say and beyond my abilities. As a
musician, I’m trying to touch people. If that works, great. I can’t tell you what makes that work. I have a thing on my wall here that Beethoven said: "The vibrations on the air are the breath of God speaking to man's soul. Music is the language of God. We musicians are as close to God as man can be. We hear his voice, we read his lips, we give birth to the children of God, who sing his praise. That’s what musicians are." I love that.
JW: Have you always felt so passionately about music and the saxophone?
PW: I was put on the planet to be a musician, primarily as an alto player.
JW: You came to the instrument almost by accident.
PW: Yes. When I was 12, in 1942, I had an eccentric
uncle, Norman, who was a mortician. He had a saxophone, and when he was in bed upstairs dying, I found it under my grandmother's sofa. I pulled out the case and opened it. When I saw all that shiny metal, all I could think of was melting it down to make toy soldiers. Then I closed the case and put it away.
JW: Did you wind up with it?
PW: When my uncle died, it was left for me in his will. I put it in my closet, and a year or so went by. Then my mother insisted I shouldn't let the saxophone go to waste, that I should take at least one lesson. So I opened the phone book and found a teacher randomly in there. His name was Harvey LaRose, and he changed my life.
JW: How so?
PW: Your first teacher in anything is so important. If that person decides you have talent and wants to touch your soul, wonderful things can happen. Mr. LaRose was an incredible inspiration. Mr. LaRose was the man.
JW: What was it about Mr. LaRose that made you work hard?
PW: He taught me songs and pushed me to embellish. I was getting improv lessons at age 13. He gave me the four top pop songs of the week to play, and today, of course, they're all standards. I was raised on the American songbook, which is a pretty strong force there…
JW: But what made him special, as a teacher?
PW: If I could define it, we could sell it [laughs]. It’s magic. It’s not to be dismissed with a few comments. He was a great human
being. He wasn’t a great improviser, by the way. But he was a composer. He played the alto, clarinet, violin, guitar and piano. He not only taught all of them but repaired them, too. And he arranged for the local big bands up near Springfield, Mass., where I grew up. We had some great territory bands up there. Mr. LaRose wasn't a great jazz player but he was very aware of the American musical scene. And encouraging. But you didn't get cocky or he’d shoot you down in a minute. [laughs] He kept you encouraged but humble. I just loved the man.
JW: So Mr. LaRose made you feel good about your ability and potential?
PW: Yes he did. And because of him, from the time I was 13 or 14, I was hooked on becoming a musician. I worked very hard at it.
JW: You studied with Lennie Tristano in New York when you were just 15 years old—yet you were never influenced by him.
PW: I just wanted to go to New York because Charlie
Parker was there. Studying with Tristano [pictured] was a good excuse. I’d just take a day trip to New York, you know. When kids talk about a field trip, that was a field trip for me and my friend, Hal Serra. He was a piano player who lived up the street from me. He had a couple of years on me. His family knew my family and he looked over me.
Phil Woods: That’s for you guys to figure out. That would be immodest for me to say and beyond my abilities. As a
musician, I’m trying to touch people. If that works, great. I can’t tell you what makes that work. I have a thing on my wall here that Beethoven said: "The vibrations on the air are the breath of God speaking to man's soul. Music is the language of God. We musicians are as close to God as man can be. We hear his voice, we read his lips, we give birth to the children of God, who sing his praise. That’s what musicians are." I love that.JW: Have you always felt so passionately about music and the saxophone?
PW: I was put on the planet to be a musician, primarily as an alto player.
JW: You came to the instrument almost by accident.
PW: Yes. When I was 12, in 1942, I had an eccentric
uncle, Norman, who was a mortician. He had a saxophone, and when he was in bed upstairs dying, I found it under my grandmother's sofa. I pulled out the case and opened it. When I saw all that shiny metal, all I could think of was melting it down to make toy soldiers. Then I closed the case and put it away.JW: Did you wind up with it?
PW: When my uncle died, it was left for me in his will. I put it in my closet, and a year or so went by. Then my mother insisted I shouldn't let the saxophone go to waste, that I should take at least one lesson. So I opened the phone book and found a teacher randomly in there. His name was Harvey LaRose, and he changed my life.
JW: How so?
PW: Your first teacher in anything is so important. If that person decides you have talent and wants to touch your soul, wonderful things can happen. Mr. LaRose was an incredible inspiration. Mr. LaRose was the man.
JW: What was it about Mr. LaRose that made you work hard?
PW: He taught me songs and pushed me to embellish. I was getting improv lessons at age 13. He gave me the four top pop songs of the week to play, and today, of course, they're all standards. I was raised on the American songbook, which is a pretty strong force there…
JW: But what made him special, as a teacher?
PW: If I could define it, we could sell it [laughs]. It’s magic. It’s not to be dismissed with a few comments. He was a great human
being. He wasn’t a great improviser, by the way. But he was a composer. He played the alto, clarinet, violin, guitar and piano. He not only taught all of them but repaired them, too. And he arranged for the local big bands up near Springfield, Mass., where I grew up. We had some great territory bands up there. Mr. LaRose wasn't a great jazz player but he was very aware of the American musical scene. And encouraging. But you didn't get cocky or he’d shoot you down in a minute. [laughs] He kept you encouraged but humble. I just loved the man.JW: So Mr. LaRose made you feel good about your ability and potential?
PW: Yes he did. And because of him, from the time I was 13 or 14, I was hooked on becoming a musician. I worked very hard at it.
JW: You studied with Lennie Tristano in New York when you were just 15 years old—yet you were never influenced by him.
PW: I just wanted to go to New York because Charlie
Parker was there. Studying with Tristano [pictured] was a good excuse. I’d just take a day trip to New York, you know. When kids talk about a field trip, that was a field trip for me and my friend, Hal Serra. He was a piano player who lived up the street from me. He had a couple of years on me. His family knew my family and he looked over me.
read more: http://www.jazzwax.com/2015/09/phil-woods-1931-2015.html?utm_source=feedblitz&utm_medium=FeedBlitzRss&utm_campaign=FeedBlitzRss&utm_content=Phil+Woods+%281931-2015%29
Used with permission by Marc Myers
0 Comments:
Post a Comment