Max Dalton: Jazz Album Art

Max Dalton

Max Dalton

Max Dalton

Max Dalton

Max Dalton

Max Dalton

Max Dalton

Some hip Max Dalton jazz album covers -- I especially like the Winsor McCay riff on the Monk cover -- double-collectible...

'Max Dalton lives in Buenos Aires, Argentina, and has been drawing since he was two or three years old. Max has too many interests to list here -- from writing to painting to playing music and reading about animals -- but his all-time favorite is drawing. He is the illustrator of "The Lonely Phone Booth," "The Lonely Typewriter," and "Extreme Opposites."'

The Hammond B-3 Organ

Laurens Hammond

Laurens Hammond invented an automatic transmission system for cars, a type of 3-D glasses, a synchronous clock motor, and several  infrared devices. Those of us who love rock, pop and jazz music respect him most for the invention that he gave his name to -- the Hammond organ.

This pioneer, born on 11 January 1895 in Evanston, Illinois, already had numerous inventions under his belt by the time he perfected the musical instrument that would go on to adorn so many great records. He had won his degree in mechanical engineering from Cornell University during World War I, and worked privately on a number of brilliant technological advances, including a silent clock that encased the spring motor in a soundproof box.

Hammond’s automatic transmission system was turned down by Renault, but he went on to develop the synchronous motor that would be the basis of both his clock and organ discoveries. By his early 30s, he’d formed his own Hammond Clock Company, which later became the Hammond Instrument Company and then, in 1953, the Hammond Organ Company.

Even by the 1930s, Hammond had a fascination for the sounds coming from the phonograph turntables in his laboratory, and started to explore the idea of producing musical tones by electric synthesis. By 1934, with John M. Hanert, he’d come up with the design for what became the Hammond organ, a machine with 91 small tonewheel generators, rotated by that synchronous motor of his.

The harmonic drawbars above the keyboard created the chance to mix millions of different tones. The organ was first manufactured in 1935, and millions of keyboard players -- especially of his celebrated B-3 -- have been in Mr. Hammond’s debt ever since.

Don Mangus: Jazz Intaglio Etching, c. 1977

My friend Wendell still has this print on display in his house. I gave it to him around 1977. It's nice to see your work still hanging around and being enjoyed after 38 years and counting...

Don Mangus

Remembering Wendy Williamson

By Kim Rich, Anchorage Daily
 News, Sunday,
 July 
3,
 1988
 

The
 best moments 
always
 came
 late
 in
 Wendy
 Williamson's
 piano
 classes.
 That's
 when
 one
 of
 his
 students
 would 
invariably
 ask,
"Wendy, 
can
 you
 play 
some
 'Martini
 Music?'"





"Martini 
Music" 
was
 what
 the
 students
 called
 the 
jazz
 standards
 that
 Williamson
 loved -- songs 
like 
"Satin
 Doll,"
 "Autumn
 Leaves,"
 and 
"The
 Lady
 is
 a
 Tramp."
 These
 were 
some
 of 
his
 favorites -- the 
kind
 of
 songs he
 used
 to
 play
 40
 years
 ago 
in
 Anchorage
 night
 spots
 with 
such 
names
 as
 "The
 Last
 Chance," "
The
 Green
 Lantern
," or
 "The
 Silver
 Slipper.
"




Then,
 as
 in 
his
 classroom,
 Williamson's
 body
 would
 gently
 sway 
as
 his
 fingers
 roamed
 the
 keyboard, instilling
 new
 life 
in
 the
 oft-played
 melodies,
 recalling
 the
 era
 when
 Jazz
 was
 King.





Moments
 such
 as 
this
 were
 recalled
 earlier 
this 
week
 when
 dozens
 of 
Williamson's
 friends
 gathered 
in
 a 
local
 home 
to 
remember
 him.
 On
 June 
25,
 John
 Wendell
 "Wendy"
 Williamson, 
one
 of
 Anchorage's 
finest
 jazz
 pianists
 and
 best-loved
 music
 teachers,
 died
 of 
cancer
 at 
the 
age
 of 
65.





When
 people
 aren't
 talking
 about
 Williamson's
 free and easy 
style
 of
 piano 
playing,
 his
 perfect
 pitch,
 or the
 way
 he
 could
 make
 any
 song
 swing,
 they
 talk
 about
 how 
this
 "musician's
 musician
" was
 one 
of
 the 
most
 adored
 people
 in
 Anchorage.





"He
 was
 the 
kindest
 man,"
 says
 Mickey
 Belden,
 an 
adjunct
 faculty
 member 
of
 the
 University
 of
 Alaska
 Anchorage
 music
 department.


"I
 never
 ever
 did
 hear 
him
 say
 a
 mean
 word, 
just
 never 
did, " 
says
 Elvera
 Voth,
 a
 longtime
 member 
of
 Anchorage's
 classical
 music
 scene
 who
 gave
 Williamson
 his
 job
 at
 the
 college.





"He
 was the
 kind
 of
 guy
 you'd
 like
 to
 have
 for
 a 
friend -- a
 buddy -- and
 he
 was
 extremely
 talented -- on
 the 
verge
 of
 being
 a 
genius," 
says
 Jack
 O'Toole,
 a
 local
 drummer
 who
 used
 to
 gig
 with
 Williamson.





For
 17
 years,
 Williamson's
 large,
 rounded, 
silhouette
 was
 a 
common
 sight
 at
 the
 Music
 Department
 at
 Anchorage
 Community
 College,
 where 
he
 taught 
music 
theory,
 private 
piano
 lessons, 
and
 piano
 classes.


Most people
 remember
 his
 eyes -- 
eyes 
that
 appeared -- as
 one 
former 
student 
put
 it -- as
 if
 they 
were 
"full
 of
 the
 Dickens." 
His
 broad
 cheeks
 made
 him
 look
 rather like
 an 
unshaven
 Santa
 Claus.



 
Unlike 
most
 of
 his 
casual 
colleagues 
at
 the 
College,
 Williamson 
always 
arrived
 at
 work
 in 
a
 suit
, something
 almost
 unheard 
of 
in
 the 
low-key 
Community
 College
 setting.
 But
 after
 all,
 Williamson
 was
 a 
jazz
man -- and 
jazz
 players 
almost
 always
 wear
 suits.



 
"You
 have 
to 
dress 
for teaching,"
 he
 would
 tell
 his 
wife,
 Marjorie
 Williamson. 
"You
 have 
to 
look
 like
 you're a Somebody."





Despite 
a 
quiet, unassuming 
nature,
 Williamson
 had 
a 
keen
 sense
 of 
humor.
 Many
 still
recall
 the 
daily
 "piano
 wars" 
Williamson
 used
 to
 wage 
with 
former
 University 
of
 Alaska
Anchorage
 piano
 professor
 Jean
-Paul Billoud.
 The 
two 
had
 adjoining
 studios.
 Whenever
 Williamson
 would 
hear
 Billoud
 coming
 down 
the 
hall,
 he'd
 run 
to
 his 
piano 
and
 begin 
playing
 a
 piece 
of 
classical
 or
 jazz
 music.
 Within
 seconds,
 Billoud
 would
 finish
 the
 music
 from
 his
 own 
studio.



 
Elvera
 Voth
 says
 Williamson 
was
 also
 always
 full
 of
 one-liners. 
Once,
 she
 asked
 him
 if
 he
 sang.
 His
 joking
 reply -- "Only
 at 
the
 police
 station -- and
 then 
I
'll
 sing
 plenty."





Even 
near 
the
 end
 of
 a lengthy 
illness,
 he 
kept
 his
 sense
 of 
humor.
 While
 he
 was
 hospitalized,
 a
 nurse
 came
 in 
to
 ask
 for
 the
 umpteenth 
time 
what
 allergies 
he
 had.
 Williamson
 responded,
 "Penicillin
 and
 Rock 
'n' Roll."



 

Born 
in
 Chehalis, 
Washington,
 Williamson
 received
 his
 earliest
 musical
 inspiration
 from
 his
 father, 
who was a
 trombone
 player.
 Marjorie
 Williamson
 says 
the 
father
 got 
Williamson
 and
 his
 two
 brothers,
 Vernell
 ("Tex")
 and
 Euell, 
interested
 in
 music
 by
 offering 
them
 the
 choice 
of 
"either 
hoeing
 the 
garden 
or
 practicing."
 They
 always chose
 the
 latter.



 
After
 earning 
his 
Bachelor 
of 
Music
 degree
 from
 Washington 
State
 College,
 where
 he
 also 
played
 trombone, 
Williamson 
received
 a 
Master's
 Degree
 in
 Music
 from
 the
 Cincinnati
 Conservatory
 of 
Music.
 While 
he 
was 
schooled
 in 
both
 classical
 and
 jazz,
 his 
heart
 really belonged
 to 
jazz.





Williamson 
first
 visited 
Anchorage
 in
 1947,
 after
 being
 discharged
 from
 the 
Army.
 Prior
 to 
settling 
in
 Alaska,
 he
 played
 with
 some
 of 
the
 Big 
Band 
Era's 
greatest
 musicians -- 
including 
a tour with 
famed
 band
leader/trombone 
player,
 Jack
 Teagarden.





"When 
I
 first
 met 
him 
(Williamson) 
I
 thought
 he
 was
 rich 
because
 he
 owned 51 
white
 shirts,"
 says
 Marjorie,
 adding 
that
 the
 shirts
 were
 in reality a result of the
 51
 weeks
 Williamson 
once
 spent
 on
 the
 road
 with
 Teagarden -- he 
really hated 
to
 do 
laundry.




Marjorie
 was 
working
 as 
a
 stewardess
 for
 United
 Airlines, 
and
 living
 in
 Seattle
, when
 they
 met.
 The 
couple
 married
 in
 1956,
 then moved
 to
 Anchorage.
 They 
have
 three
 boys --  
Jim
 , who is
 now 
age 31, 
 Scott,
 30, and John,
 28.
 All
 three
 play 
instruments --
 Jim
 carries on the
 trombone tradition,
 Scott
 plays the
 drums
, and
 John triples on bass 
guitar,
 piano,
 and 
French
 Horn.



 
Like 
his 
father 
before 
him, 
Williamson
 encouraged 
his
 sons 
to
 learn 
the
 foundation
 of
 music
al training.





"One 
thing 
dad
 pounded 
into
 us
 was
 that we
 had
 to 
know
 how 
to 
read
 music,"
 says
 Scott. "He'd 
say, 
'There'll
 always 
be
 a 
lot
 of
 good
 players,
 but
 the
 people
 who
 know
 how
 to
 read
 are
 the
 ones
 who land 
the
 jobs."'





Reading music worked 
for
 Williamson,
 who 
for 
years
 found
 steady
 work 
in
 Anchorage -- playing
 gigs
 in
 bands
 named The
 Rhythm
 Kings,
 Wendy's
 Wiggers,
 The
 Wendy
 Williamson
 Trio, 
and 
The
 Auke 
Bay 
Conservatory
 of 
Dixieland 
Jazz.
 But
 Williamson's
 favorite
 and
 most reliable 
gig
 was
 his
 teaching 
job
 at 
the
 Community
 College.





He
 was 
one 
of 
the 
first 
people
 Voth
 hired
 when 
she
 was
 assembling 
the 
Music
 Program
 there 
in
 the
 early
 sixties.
 She
 says 
no 
one
 was
 more
 pleased 
to
 be
 on 
a
 college
 faculty 
than
 Williamson.
 "He 
just loved it,"
 she
 says.
 "He
 used 
to
 say
 funny things 
like,
 'Call
 me
 Professor.'
"





Voth,
 who
 left
 the
 college 
in 
the 
mid-seventies,
 says 
Williamson's
 jazz
 courses
 were
 among the 
school's
 most
 popular
 classes.
 Part
 of
 their 
success 
was
 due 
to
 his
 teaching 
style.
 He
 avoided
 any
 situation
 that
 would
 make
 his
 students 
nervous
 and
 keep
 them
 from
 playing
 at their
 best.
 

He
 abhorred
 recitals.
 In
 his
 piano
 lab 
classes,
 where 
students
 played electric 
pianos
 while
 wearing
 earphones,
 Williamson 
never
 told
 the
 musicians
 on what
 day
 he
 was
 going to grade 
them.
 That
 way,
 they
 felt more 
at 
ease.
 
 "He was
 very
 affable,
 easygoing
, and 

helpful,"
 says
 his former 
student
, Karen
 Strid. 
"He
'd 
never 
'put
 anyone
 down'
 in
 a
 class, 
and 
he'd
 share 
musical examples.
 He'd
 
play 
for you.
 He
 not
 only 

talked 
about the theory of music -- 
 he
 could 
also
 put it into practice.
 He
 was
 marvelous.
 I
 think he 
must
 have memorized
 2,000 
tunes or more."



 
Williamson's 
illness 
finally 
forced 
him 
to 
retire 
from 
the
 College 
in
 December.
 Just before
 his
 death,
 he
 recommended 
that
 Strid -- who
 studied
 with him
 for
 18
 years -- be appointed
 to
 fill 
his
 position.
 "He 
hung 
on 
just 
long
 enough
 to 
hear 
she
 got 
the 
job," 
says
 Kay
 McInnes,
 secretary
 to 
the
 Music
 and
 Dance
 Departments.





In
 Williamson's
 honor, 
the
 Music department and
 his 
family have 
established 
a 
memorial
 scholarship 
in
 his
 name.
 Additionally, 
a 
program
 of
 Traditional 
jazz, is 
to 
be
 performed
 this July
 22 
at
 the
 International 
Inn
, and it too will
 be
 dedicated 
to
 Williamson's memory.

"I
 owe
 Wendy 
a
 great
 deal," says 
Strid,
 who 
in addition to 
taking
 over
 Williamson's 
post,
 was
 also 
bequeathed
 his
 voluminous teaching
 notes 
and
 materials.
 "If you
 talk
 to
 anyone
 who
 knew
 Wendy -- 
you'll soon hear about how much they loved
 him -- he will
 be greatly 
missed."





From "Brain Pickings Weekly": Bill Evans on the Creative Process

Jazz Legend Bill Evans on the Creative Process, Self-Teaching, and Balancing Clarity with Spontaneity in Problem-Solving

In a 1915 letter to his young son, Albert Einstein advised that the best way to learn anything is "when you are doing something with such enjoyment that you don’t notice that the time passes." Many decades later, psychologists would give a name to this distinctive, exhilarating state of immersive, self-initiated learning and creative growth: flow. Again and again, artists, writers, scientists, and other creators have described this state as the key to the"spiritual electricity" of creative work.
In 1966, legendary jazz pianist Bill Evans (August 16, 1929–September 15, 1980) sat down with his composer brother, Harry Evans, for an intense and deeply insightful conversation later released asUniversal Mind of Bill Evans: The Creative Process and Self-Teaching. From filmmaker William Meier comes this gorgeous cinematic adaptation of Evans's thoughts on the autodidactic quality of creativity and the value of working at the intersection of clarity, complexity, and spontaneity.

Here is a longer excerpt from the documentary, where Evans discusses the step-by-step process of creative problem-solving:

The whole process of learning the facility of being able to play jazz is to take these problems from the outer level in, one by one, and to stay with it at a very intense, conscious-concentration level until that process becomes secondary and subconscious. Now, when that becomes subconscious, then you can begin concentrating on that next problem, which will allow you to do a little bit more.

I don’t consider myself as talented as many people but in some ways that was an advantage because I didn’t have a great facility immediately so I had to be more analytical and in a way – that forced me to build something.

Most people just don’t realize the immensity of the problem and, either because they can’t conquer it immediately, think that they haven’t got the ability, or they’re so impatient to conquer it that they never do see it through. If you do understand the problem then you can enjoy your whole trip through.

People tend to approximate the product rather than attacking it in a realistic, true way at any elementary level – regardless of how elementary – but it must be entirely true and entirely real and entirely accurate. They would rather approximate the entire problem than to take a small part of it and be real and true about it. To approximate the whole thing in a vague way gives you a feeling that you’ve more or less touched the thing, but in this way you just lead yourself toward confusion and ultimately you’re going to get so confused that you’ll never find your way out.

It is true of any subject that the person that succeeds in anything has the realistic viewpoint at the beginning and [knows] that the problem is large and that he has to take it a step at a time and that he has to enjoy the step-by-step learning procedure. They’re trying to do a thing in a way that is so general [that] they can’t possibly build on that. If they build on that, they’re building on top of confusion and vagueness and they can’t possibly progress. If you try to approximate something that is very advanced and don’t know what you’re doing, you can’t advance.

Universal Mind of Bill Evans is revelatory in its entirety. Complement it with the great composer Aaron Copland on the conditions of creativity and Julia Cameron on how to get out of your own way and unblock creative flow.

Jazz Album Favorites

Encore: Don Mangus Jazz Prints From the Late Seventies

After 37 years, two of my jazz prints, done while I was a junior at SMU, have left the dark recesses of my portfolio, been matted and framed, and are now proudly displayed in the light of day at the home of my two fine friends, Robin and Angela....for me, these prints still resonate with my love of jazz...may the joy of improvisation and music never stop...

Late Seventies Jazz Woodcuts by Don Mangus

Don Mangus, John Coltrane, Lee Konitz, and Miles Davis, woodcut, 1976

Don Mangus, Ballad for Laurie, woodcut, 1976

Don Mangus, Trad Jazz, woodcut, 1976

Don Mangus, Bud Powell, woodcut, 1976

Lester Young Continuous Line Portrait

I was thinking of Alexander Calder's wire sculptures when I knocked this "continuous line" portrait of Prez out at the Lakewood Starbucks this morning. The idea is you never take your pen off the paper during the entire drawing.




Lest Young (Prez), continous ball point pen drawing by Don Mangus, 2013

 

 

Bob Graettinger Scores

Musician/historian Terry Vosbein writes to remind me to give him due credit for this amazing BG tribute, and add the link to his All Things Kenton site, where I hit a netiquette sour note when I  copped his chart note-for-note. Mea Culpa. Kindly visit Terry's most excellent site at:


http://www.vosbein.com/kenton/lagniappe/graettinger/

Graphs and Charts of Bob Graettinger

The Kenton Archives at the University of North Texas contain hundreds of handwritten and colored pages created by Bob Graettinger. Pitch names, colors, lines, dots and squiggles were all part of his pre-compositional process. Some are very tiny, on small scraps of paper. Others are quite large. Fronts and backs of pages are frequently both used. There are short handwritten notes to himself. A small sampling is presented below.

There are no notations associating any of this with particular compositions. Graettinger used these charts to plan his compositions, in a system known only to him. He then made very meticulous scores using traditional musical notation. It was these scores that were sent to Clinton Roemer, Kenton's primary copyist, who would create the individual musicians' parts.

Click on an image for a larger view.

A rare 1946 straight-ahead swing-era composition by Progressive Jazz's bad boy of the avant garde, Bob Graettinger. Performed by Terry Vosbein and the Knoxville Jazz Orchestra.

City of Glass

Bob Graettinger was dubbed the "bad boy" of modern jazz composers. He died far too young, at the age of 33. You can hear his compositions on YouTube.

Big Band leader and pianist Stan Kenton supported Graettingers work.

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=53GTa7DurnU

Robert Graettinger on yee Wiki:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Graettinger

Astrud Gilberto and Stan Getz "The Girl From Ipanema" 1964

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJkxFhFRFDA

“The Girl from Ipanema”  (“Garota de Ipanema”) was written in 1962 by Antonio Carlos Jobim with original Portuguese lyrics by poet Vinicius de Moraes. The song became famous worldwide with its inclusion on the 1964 landmark Bossa Nova album Getz/Gilberto. Jobim originally composed the music at his home in the seaside Ipanema distritc of Rio De Janeiro. The photo above is of the girl who inspired the song, Heloísa Pinheiro.

Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers 1961 "Dat Dere"

Trumpeter Lee Morgan (1938-72).

Wayne Shorter on tenor sax: Lee Morgan, trumpet; Bobby Timmons, piano; Jymie Merritt, bass; and the incomparable Art Blakey leading, on drums. Another great recording for Blue Note Records.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EfGDTGBHM9M

Bobby Moore and The Rhythm Aces Reaching Out. .

Robert "Bobby" Moore (1930-2006) was a tenor saxophonist and bandleader. He was born in New Orleans, Louisiana, and joined the US Army in his teens. While stationed at Fort Benning in Georgia in 1952, he formed the first line-up of the Rhythm Aces with members of the Fort Benning marching band; they toured the south playing at military events and clubs for a few years. When he moved to Montgomery, Alabama after being demobbed in 1961, Moore put together a new group, featuring his brother, Larry Moore (saxophone), Chico Jenkins (vocals, guitar), Marion Sledge (guitar), Joe Frank (bass), Clifford Laws (keyboards), and John Baldwin, Jr. (drums). They did local Alabama gigs and played behind national touring acts such as Sam Cooke and Ray Charles.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5wBvx6OMTs

RIP Jazz Trumpeter Donald Byrd - "Here I Am" 1959

From the amazing May 1959 album "Byrd In Hand". Everybody cooks.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tBbph3Umo2A


Donald Byrd, Jazz Trumpeter, Dies at 80

by William Yardley, The New York Times
Donald Byrd, one of the leading jazz trumpeters of the 1950s and early 1960s, who became both successful and controversial in the 1970s by blending jazz, funk and rhythm and blues into a pop hybrid that defied categorization, died on Feb. 4 in Dover, Del. He was 80.

His death was confirmed by Haley Funeral Directors of Southfield, Mich. Word of Mr. Byrd’s death had circulated online for several days, but was not announced by his family.

Almost from the day he arrived in New York City in 1955 from his native Detroit, Mr. Byrd was at the center of the movement known as hard bop, a variation on bebop that put greater emphasis on jazz’s blues and gospel roots. Known for his pure tone and impeccable technique, he performed or recorded with some of the most prominent jazz musicians of that era, including John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk, Sonny Rollins and the drummer Art Blakey, considered one of jazz’s great talent scouts. As a bandleader, Mr. Byrd was sometimes a talent scout too — one of the first to hire a promising young pianist named Herbie Hancock, who, like Mr. Byrd, would later be called a renegade for an approach that won a wide audience but displeased many critics.

Mr. Byrd, a strong advocate of music education, spent much of the 1960s teaching. Then, in 1973, he made a surprising transition to pop stardom with the album “Black Byrd,” produced by the brothers Larry and Fonce Mizell, who had been his students at Howard University in Washington. With Mr. Byrd’s restrained licks (he played both trumpet and fluegelhorn) layered over an irresistible funk groove seasoned with wah-wah guitar and simple, repeated lyrics (“Get in the groove, just can’t lose”), “Black Byrd” reached the Billboard Top 100, where it peaked at No. 88.

Mr. Byrd was hardly the first jazz musician to try such a crossover: Miles Davis had achieved a similar musical synthesis with “Bitches Brew” three years earlier. But “Black Byrd,” unlike “Bitches Brew,” was overtly pop-oriented, and its success was extremely rare for a jazz musician. It became, and for a long time remained, the best-selling album in the history of Blue Note Records, the venerable jazz label for which Mr. Byrd had been recording since the 1950s.

“Then the jazz people starting eating on me,” Mr. Byrd recalled in a 1982 radio interview. “They had a feast on me for 10 years: ‘He’s sold out.’ Everything that’s bad was attributed to Donald Byrd. I weathered it, and then it became commonplace. Then they found a name for it. They started calling it ‘jazz fusion,’ ‘jazz rock.’ ”

The criticism did not stop him from making more pop records. In addition to recording as a leader, he organized some of his Howard students into a group called the Blackbyrds and produced their records. The band had a string of hit singles in the 1970s, including “Walking in Rhythm,” which reached the Top 10 on the pop charts, and “Rock Creek Park,” which evoked late-night romance in a wooded park in Washington, D.C.

“Rock Creek Park” became something of a local anthem and one of many recordings by Mr. Byrd to be sampled by rap and hip-hop artists, including Public Enemy, Nas and Ludacris. His music and the Blackbyrds’ has been sampled more than 200 times, with the 1975 album “Places and Spaces” among his most frequently repurposed recordings, according to the Web site whosampled.com.

“They use all of the music that I did in the ’50s, ’60s and the ’70s behind people like Tupac and LL Cool J,” Mr. Byrd told students in a lecture at Cornell in 1998. “I’m into all that stuff.”

Donaldson Toussaint L’Ouverture Byrd II was born in Detroit on Dec. 9, 1932. His father, E. T. Byrd, was a Methodist minister. His music studies there at Wayne State University were interrupted by two years in the Air Force. After receiving a bachelor’s degree from Wayne State, Mr. Byrd moved to New York, where he began his jazz career in earnest and received a master’s in music education from the Manhattan School of Music.

His musical pursuits were paralleled by a lifelong interest in education. He taught jazz at Howard, North Carolina Central University, Rutgers, Cornell, the University of Delaware and Delaware State University, and also studied law. In 1982 he received a doctorate in education from Teachers College at Columbia University. He spent many years, at various institutions, teaching a curriculum that integrated math and music education.

In 2000 Mr. Byrd was given a Jazz Masters award by the National Endowment for the Arts.

Mr. Byrd had homes in Dover, Del., and Teaneck, N.J. Information on his survivors was not available.
In his 1998 Cornell lecture Mr. Byrd said he had been inspired by musicians who changed music, notably John Coltrane.

“I met him in the 11th grade in Detroit,” he said. “I skipped school one day to see Dizzy Gillespie, and that’s where I met Coltrane. Coltrane and Jimmy Heath just joined the band, and I brought my trumpet, and he was sitting at the piano downstairs waiting to join Dizzy’s band. He had his saxophone across his lap, and he looked at me and he said, ‘You want to play?’

“So he played piano, and I soloed. I never thought that six years later we would be recording together, and that we would be doing all of this stuff. The point is that you never know what happens in life.”

Daniel E. Slotnik contributed reporting.

Jimmy Smith Trio "Organ Grinder's Swing"

Jimmy Smith organ - Eddie McFadden guitar - Charlie Crosby drums, Live à Pleyel, 1969

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rdFMpXaCLJ8

And here's a link to a DVD for sale of the whole show:

http://jazzicons.com/ji4_smith.html

It's Time For Drum Therapy - Afro-Cuban Style

Large Fish-Shaped Guiro - $12.

Large Wood Maracas -  $12.

White Wood Clave - $8.

 8-inch Combination Rhythm Sticks - $6.50.

8-inch Wood Tambourine, Headed, Single Row Jingles - $10.

Thanks to Amazon, I am now ready to engage in a bit of cheap drum therapy, Afro-Cuban style. I plan to play along with my Zydeco, Soul, Jazz, and Rock CDs. Also, if anyone should annoy me with an all-too public cell phone call in the bookstore, I'll pull out the fish-shaped guiro, and augment their conversation with rhythms.

About.com Drum Therapy web article:

http://healing.about.com/od/drums/a/drumtherapy.htm

Congas master Candido Camero "Manteca":

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U2jIis6Kmq4