Live & Local: Charles McPherson at Denver Jazz FestNew post
He might argue with you, but alto saxophonist Charles McPherson HAS arrived. The octogenarian reedman with seriously deep and wide credits is still very active, with a new release on the Smoke Sessions label (“Reverence”), and a pair of sold-out shows with trumpeter Terell Stafford on Friday night at Dazzle, part of the inaugural Denver Jazz Fest.
McPherson sat in as a guest host on KUVO’s Morning Set. His first selection was Charlie Parker’s “Tico Tico,” an intricate, Latin-tinged record he heard on a neighborhood jukebox in his youth. Fun fact: McPherson was the featured alto saxophonist in the 1988 Clint Eastwood film "Bird.”
Hanging out with Carlos Lando, Abi Clark, and Steve Chavis, McPherson shared his perspective on how an artist masters their craft while building a fruitful life.
This portion of the interview above has been edited for length and clarity:
Charles McPherson: The first record of Charlie Parker that I heard was Tico Tico and I was probably 13 on the jukebox. From that point on, I found that record and every kind of jazz record that played that particular genre of music. I don't care, even if it weren't Charlie Parker, I wanted to know everything about that music and all the people who played that. And that thing that got me is just the logic of his solo, how concise, perfect musical sentences, seamless, how he connects his ideas, no nonsense, smart, rhythmic, harmonic, melodic. And the virtuosity of how it's played with such authority is amazing to this day.
Steve Chavis: There it is all summed up! If you can do all that in your solo, then you're in good shape.
CM: Well, if you can do that with anything, depending on whatever it is you are doing, it doesn't have to be playing the saxophone if you arrive at that level of excellence, that's called Bird.
Carlos Lando: So, Charles, how did you arrive at that level of excellence?
CM: Well, listen, I don't know if I've arrived, but I sure have been working on it. First of all, to know that there is such a thing as that ideal, that level. First, you have to know it exists because you heard somebody's doing it. And then that's why they're called icons. And all you do is just use that as a yardstick. But of course, what you want to do ideally is develop your own musical style, your own style of anything. I don't care if you are a writer, you've definitely learned from other people, but you do want to write and it's you, it's your writing. But the other people, they are an icon, an ideal, something to reach for, because even Charlie Parker had heroes and it was Lester Young and a guy named Buster Smith, great alto player from Kansas City, and a bunch of other people, people like Hubert (Laws), great saxophone player. And that's what you have to do. If you want to be an artist, you have to be able to understand all of the emotions of human beings. A great artist: You got to be able to know what sadness and sorrow is, and you got to be able to play that or write that. You have to know what great ecstasy and joy and you got to be able to write that, play that if you want to make one human being feel that. You got to know what love is, really. You got to know what rejection is. You got to know what acceptance is. You got to know the whole deal to be a complete great artist. And that's the difference between art and craft, is that the great artist has the craft, and they have what I'm talking about now, the ability to express the whole human condition. So, it's like being a great actor or actress that can play any part. That's it. And that's what I try to be able to do, and I'm aware of it. And that is something to reach for.
CL: We've got a track that is considered one of Bud Powell's signature pieces called Glass Enclosure. If you are a person about my age who grew up in the sixties, mid-sixties, and you come to jazz just a little bit later and you come to jazz through musicians who are playing music from these masters, you inevitably go back to the Masters to hear the original, what their interpretation was of a tune like this. I think the first time I ever heard that song, Chick Corea was playing it. And it just fascinated me because of the classical part in there and so forth, and then finding out, okay, well obviously this is Bud Powell, and I really didn't know. I'd seen the name, but I really hadn't really heard. You got to hear it, you got to feel it, and that's just opened up the door even more.
CM: Yeah, I agree. The interesting thing, if you really are a jazz aficionado or say a musician, is to go back a few generations. Take John Coltrane for instance, okay, here he is and he's doing what he does, but who did he listen to actually play like he does? And then guess what? A lot of the bebop guys, their heroes were the swing guys that a lot of young people would think old fashioned and not important. But if you take Charlie Parker and say, who did he listen to? He didn't listen to himself. Who did he listen to actually come up and play Tico Tico like that? And guess what? It's going to be the older players, the swing players. Something they had that made the younger guard, which would be Charlie Parker, Monk, and people like that, they took tidbits of that, certain nuances of that, and just developed it. It's not even an act of deliberation. It's more or less a gradation or a morphing into, and then all of a sudden you got a slew of people who kind of play like that. It becomes a school and a style, and then somebody names it. But really, it's just music. Yeah, yeah. So, there you go. So, good advice for young musicians and even fans is not only to check out jazz when you enter, check out a couple of generations before, and then you understand The Now - You see how everything is really connected.
Abi Clark: You mentioned before about finding your voice, and you let us know Charlie Parker was that initial spark for you. As a musician that's been working musician, when did you find yours? Was there a point in your career where the pieces really started to come together?
CM: I think it's just kind of a hope that I do. That's one of the hardest things in do jazz, is to have a style that's recognizable to somebody else other than yourself. So, I mean, I hope so. But yeah, it's something that you kind of morph into as you develop as a person, then how you think and what you are, then that comes into playing. And usually, it's kind of a natural thing. But I think to actually be aware of this is to be done as a thought, is to actually know that. And usually, it happens just like when you're a little kid and you're in school and the teacher is showing you how to write. You try to imitate the teacher, you make your A, B, C look like that. But eventually everyone has their own distinct handwriting. And so, I think quite often art or probably everything else kind of is that. You are yourself. Monk said this once, and he was a man of few words, but somebody asked him, how did he get so unique and different? And he thought for a moment, and he said, 'well, don't forget, you are already a genius just because you look like yourself. And the only difference is I dug deep for mine, and maybe you didn't, or maybe you haven't,' That was a very heavy thought, that you already all are this. You just have to find it and then work it.
CL: The most recent release that we have in this studio is called Reverence, and it's tied in with the great jazz establishment in New York, about 104th, I think it is, 108th St up in New York called Smoke. It used to be something else back in the day, but I've been to it on a few occasions. Gosh, I remember Harold Mabern holding court down there for years and years and years. Your latest record is dedicated to Barry Harris, and I wanted to give you an opportunity to talk a little bit about Barry, who I caught a couple of times in New York as well.
CM: It's a live record, so you have that nuance there, that vibe. Barry was the pianist that was playing in this jazz club right down the street from my house, the Bluebird. So, I met him just from standing outside listening to music, and he saw my horn. And I actually sat in one afternoon at this club at a session, and he heard me and he kind of complimented me, but I couldn't really play. I didn't know how to improvise. I could play the melodies of things, but I didn't really know the academics of improvising. I had good ears, but that doesn't always do it for you. And he knew that, and he volunteered to actually show me and get me started. And he happened to live right around the corner from me as well. So, I started going around to his house in the afternoon and he showed me the academics of harmony and theory, but that's how I learned. He was my first teacher and mentor in a lot of different ways musically, but he was almost like a second father figure-type because he's 10 years older. I was about 15 when I met him. He was probably 25. Anyway, and then I studied with him up until about 19, and by then, I was already playing professionally, kind of. And that was it. So, this CD is dedicated to him. It's called Reverence - that's my feeling towards Barry. And the tune that you're going to play is entitled Blues for Lonnie. Now Lonnie is the young trumpet player that lived right down the street from me, all of this in the same neighborhood. We knew each other when we were 9-10 years old, and he ended up playing trumpet, and I played alto sax. We ended up both working with Charlie Mingus. His name was Lonnie Hillyer so this tune is dedicated to him. He passed on pretty early in life, he was only about 45 or so. But anyway, he was a really wonderful trumpet player. So, I dedicate this tune to him.
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Photo Courtesy of Charles McPherson