When the great saxophonist Art Pepper made his late-in-life comeback, he didn’t pussyfoot around. The first two installments in Art Pepper Presents “West Coast Sessions” are illustrative; Volume 1 teams him with fellow alto kingpin Sonny Stitt and is followed by a date with pianist and West Coast peer Pete Jolly. Originally issued in the early ’80s only in Japan on the Atlas label and later lumped into the 5CD box The Hollywood All-Star Sessions, Omnivore Recordings is individualizing the dates once again with bonus tracks and engaging liners by Art’s wife Laurie Pepper while removing the contractual pretense of her husband’s sideman role. Flush with casual mastery, both are out on compact disc February 3.
Altoist Art Pepper debuted professionally in the group of Benny Carter, but it was under the employ of the big band mainstay Stan Kenton that he came to widespread notice, his profile further blossoming through a series of ’50s recordings made as a leader; solidifying his artistic reputation and enduring musical importance, a persistent addiction to heroin severely impacted his personal and professional life.
By the mid-’50s Pepper had already chalked up a stint behind bars, with his difficulties making his output from ’56-’60 even more impressive. This included a five LP run for the Contemporary label that holds the jewel of the saxophonist’s ’50s discography, Art Pepper Meets the Rhythm Section, a record capturing a near-impromptu studio date with the lauded Miles Davis-associated team of pianist Red Garland, bassist Paul Chambers, and drummer Philly Joe Jones.
As detailed in Pepper’s biography Straight Life, post-1960 he endured a series of prison stays related to his continued drug struggles, but when he made the last of his comebacks in the mid-’70s the performances and recordings gushed forth like an opened fireplug on a sweltering July afternoon; occasionally, the gigs and the tapings fruitfully intermingled. Such is the case with the series of albums (later combined into a bountifully expanded box set) documenting his engagement at New York’s Village Vanguard.
Fittingly issued on Contemporary and featuring bassist George Mraz, drummer Elvin Jones, and Pepper’s favored pianist of the period George Cables, the Vanguard material (three sets a night from Thurs-Sat July 28-30, 1977), exudes a tangible intensity, the saxophonist’s solos embracing bursts of harshness and piercing tones as he exhibited impeccable control, his playing reflecting the weight of responsibility in his final and highest-profile comeback.
The sounds comprising “West Coast Sessions” are quite different in temperament, in part because Pepper was an ostensible sideman; by ’79 when their recording commenced, the saxophonist was under exclusive contract as a leader to Fantasy/ Galaxy, where he eventually cut enough material to fill 16 CDs, a lot even in jazz terms, though the prolificacy didn’t curb the Japanese Atlas label’s desire for Pepper to record West Coast jazz as a leader with West Coast jazzmen in support.
Atlas’ goal was later modified. The obvious contractual snag aside, Pepper was never strictly a Cool Californian, which is where Sonny Stitt enters the picture; the two-disc “West Coast Sessions” Volume 1 gathers the pair of LPs Atlas issued with the enduring saxophonist given top billing, Groovin’ High and Atlas Blues: “Blow! & Ballade”, with Sonny Stitt and His West Coast Friends completing both titles. The first date offers Lou Levy on piano, Chuck Domanico on bass, and Carl Burnett on drums, and the second finds Russ Freeman subbing for Levy and John Heard replacing Domanico.
As the cover photo of the leisure suit-bedecked saxophonists underscores, the sum is relaxed but ultimately not laid back, with the selections as likely to turn on beboppers holding an Eastern bias as they’re poised to satisfy diehard West Coasters. To elaborate, long prior to the ’80s Stitt was just as known for his skills on tenor, but with one notable exception here he sticks to alto, his similarities to Charlie Parker still extant but deeply enhanced by the personal stamp of a musical survivor; at the point of his death in July ’82 (following Pepper by a little over a month), he’d cut over 100 albums.
The Parker connection is amplified by disc one’s opening pair of Bird compositions, “Scrapple from the Apple” and “Wee” making it unequivocal that this gathering of simpatico players was about friendly if passionate interaction on standard tunes, with a just as clear emphasis on the tried-and-true back-and-forth that blowing sessions retained from horn battles and cutting contests (with the caveat that neither had anything to prove at this point).
In this case, the matter accentuates collective spark and spirited individualism over sheer invention, making it a cinch for aficionados as the rarity of Stitt and Pepper in the same studio adds value for listeners of a less manic disposition; the duo had previously played live but never recorded together prior to these July 28-31, 1980 dates. Both are strong throughout, although as Laurie Pepper mentions in her notes, it can sometimes be hard to tell the two apart.
I’ll back that up, but with the qualification that there’s always crispness in their dialogue, particularly on “Bernie’s Tune,” the first of three sources to have previously figured on the 1960 masterpiece Art Pepper + Eleven – Modern Jazz Classics. It’s also worth noting that if the sax sounds like Bird it’s most assuredly Stitt, while Pepper’s soloing tones down but still displays some of the rougher attributes of his late approach.
If the album’s consecutive Parker readings seemed to initially favor Stitt, the tide makes an obvious swing toward Pepper, with “Bernie’s Tune” (a West Coast associated number brought into the canon by Gerry Mulligan) followed by a downshift into ballad territory with “How High the Moon,” a bedrock bop number that reaches back in Pepper’s chronology to the ’52 leader date documented on Xanadu’s The Early Show.
“How High the Moon” maintains its measured pace only momentarily (but long enough to reinforce Pepper’s balladic acuity) before promptly kicking into gear, and is followed by “Walkin’” (the second from Art Pepper + Eleven), which noticeably ups the bluesy angle. Next is Dizzy Gillespie’s “Groovin’ High,” a choice abetting both saxophonists as it closes the original LP’s sequence with creative equality.
Omnivore has tucked four bonus alternates onto the end of the disc, and they’re all worth having around, in part due to their magnification of the rhythm section’s contribution; Levy is lively right out of the gate with a sweet solo in “Scrapple from the Apple,” Burnett’s execution is superb throughout, and the same is true of Domanico, though his bass is marred somewhat by nagging ’80s sponginess, a quality that’s also present in Heard’s playing on disc two.
As good as Levy is, Freeman’s entrance on Stitt original “Atlas Blues” sets a powerful if still unperturbed course. A longtime Pepper associate, spanning back to Art’s ’56 album Surf Ride on Savoy, the rapport is immediately discernible as it helps to further elevate the double tenor switch on the swing-to-bop cornerstone “Lester Leaps In.” Mildly recalling (but of course not equaling) the Dexter Gordon-Wardell Gray tenor battles of yore, it sets an impossibly high standard for Volume 2.
Perhaps understanding this, the program offers a robust reading of the standard “Autumn in New York” and the ballad warhorses “My Funny Valentine” and “Lover Man.” Notably, all three compositions were recorded by Parker. “Imagination” brings the program a final ballad that Pepper’s fans will recognize from Meets the Rhythm Section.
This lack of inhibition regarding previously trodden ground, when coupled with the general casual atmosphere, strengthens “West Coast Sessions” Volume 1 as a jazzbo’s delight; they were albums four and five in a series intended for the avaricious Japanese market after all, and didn’t see US release until Galaxy issued The Hollywood All-Star Sessions in 2001.
In delivering Pepper leadership status, Omnivore’s separating of the sessions (which hopefully will continue with those formerly led by trombonist Bill Watrous, trumpeter Jack Sheldon, drummer Shelly Manne, and alto giant Lee Konitz) keeps a substantial portion of the spotlight on those chosen to initially head the dates. This is particularly advantageous regarding the little-known Pete Jolly, a ’50s West Coaster who like many of his cohorts eventually moved into television work by day while pursuing an enduring club trio by night (he played up to his death in 2004).
Joined by Pepper familiars Bob Magnusson on bass and Roy McCurdy on drums, the quartet jumps into a program of standards (and one original) that’s considerably closer to Atlas’ initial West Coast aims as it preserves the saxophonist’s resistance to geographical uniformity. With this said, Volume 2’s increase in casualness gets nearer to Eisenhower-era Cali jazz’s appealingly breezy core.
Where East Coast post-bop was reliably soulful, gritty, and edgy, the Jolly session’s opener “Strike Up the Band” is buoyantly swinging in an unabashedly accessible manner but with a progressive undercurrent in large part courtesy of Pepper’s mode of improvising. Naturally, ballads are in evidence, with “You Go to My Head” a highlight with just a touch of Pepper’s agitated expressiveness.
Spongy bass? Yes, but the audio scheme is solid overall, with McCurdy’s brushwork neither obtrusive or too soft. Later in the record the slow-mover “Everything Happens to Me” reenters Pepper’s repertoire in a version reminiscent of his ’50s ballad playing. “I Surrender Dear” picks up the tempo but lacks surprise, at least until the extended combined motif by Jolly and Magnusson at the end.
It leads into “Y.I. Blues,” a piece Pepper wrote for the LP’s producer Yasuyuki Ishihara. Delivering Volume 2 the first in consecutive respites to the general West Coast vibe through energetic execution of a non-trite jam session nugget, “Night and Day” taps into a seemingly inexhaustible Latin reservoir, the style weaving through the tune’s sly shifts; Magnusson’s playing of the melody during his solo is a treat.
“Out of Nowhere” wraps up the LP program with aplomb (there are two added takes of “Y.I. Blues”) as everyone sets a high standard. Jolly is outwardly mainstream on the surface but excels through unexpected choices and a fertile interaction with the saxophonist, with whom he’d cut five albums circa the 1950s. But no mistake about it, these albums undeniably belong to Pepper; Volume 1 gains stature through depth while its follow-up shines through concise subtlety. If neither is essential both exemplify the musical discourse that fortifies the labyrinthine nature of the jazz narrative.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
Art Pepper Presents “West Coast Sessions” Volume 1: Sonny Stitt
B+
Art Pepper Presents “West Coast Sessions” Volume 2: Pete Jolly
A-
