All the jazz that fits

When I first came to the Cincinnati Enquirer, then-art critic Owen Findsen said, "Welcome. We print all the news that fits."

In Sunday's jazz story, there are several great stories that didn't fit, so I'm putting some of the here.

From jazz legend George Russell, 82, who e-mailed from Boston:

I grew up in Kerper Ave. in the Walnut Hills area of town. My next door neighbor was the arranger and saxophonist, Jimmy Mundy.

I remember hearing bands like Fate Marable as they came through on the Mississippi making their way from New Orleans. Another neighbor played the saxophone and when I heard him, I decided I wanted to be a musician. A friend in the neighborhood, Spaulding Givens, turned me on to classical music, as well as jazz. Spaulding changed his name to Nadi Qamar and later became musical director for Nina Simone; he's in his ninth decade, and still playing.

In the 1930's and 40's in Cincinnati, live music could be heard in a number of clubs. The only one I can remember (and the main club) was the Cotton Club at Sixth and Mound. Duke Ellington, Basie, many others played there frequently. In fact, because most of the hotels would not admit blacks, it was customary for musician to stay as boarders with families; one time my mother took in several of Duke's musicians with whom I later stayed when I made my way to New York.

The audiences at places like the Cotton Club were very sophisticated musically, and wanted to be challenged, not just entertained. There were frequent battles of the bands.

There was a chili parlor called Bajo's on the corner of Gilbert and Lincoln which had the best jukebox in town; Count Basie, Duke, Lester Young, Coleman Hawkins--all the greats. Most of us upcoming musicians could sing the solos perfectly, and could argue for hours about which tenor player's style was the best.

I was given a scholarship to Wilberforce University High School, and ended up playing drums in the Wilberforce Collegians, a band which had alumni such as Ben Webster, Frank Foster, Ernie Wilkins, and Coleman Hawkins. Benny Carter came through town with his orchestra, and needed a drummer, so he hired me. I did some work with him, but he fired me in Chicago, explaining that he had found a better drummer--Max Roach. He was right, and I decided composition was where my future lay. I went to New York and never looked back.

I can't remember discrimination in Cincinnati because of being an African-American musician, but I can remember the extreme prejudice towards people of color which existed there in general."

Arzell Nelson told me that enor saxophonist Earl Early was one of his role models.

"Most guys were introduced to jazz by Early. We would carry albums around like it was a briefcase and go to each other’s houses to have listening sessions," Nelson says.

And here's a wonderful story from Art Gore, sitting in above with the Phil DeGreg Trio at the Blue Wisp:

Gore, nephew of local legends Edison Gore, a drummer, and tenor saxophonist Rufus Gore, studied with Russell at the Berklee College of Music in Boston. In the ’70s, Gore toured and recorded with superstar jazz guitarist George Benson. He returned to Cincinnati in the mid-80s and remains an active performer in local clubs.

"George Benson was playing Music Hall. So I hired (organist) Dr. Lonny Smith to come and play with me that weekend, knowing that since we had all played together, that’s where he was going to be at," Gore recalls.

They advertised in the papers that "somebody might be "breezin’" through the Greenwich that night" – referring to Benson’s hit record, "Breezin.’"

"Everybody caught on to that. People were like outside and around the corner. You couldn’t get in. The music George played that night was a whole lot more than he did at his concert. People still talk about it."

Got a great jazz memory? Send it to me at jgelfand@enquirer or post it below!