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Cecil Payne
Dec. 14, 1922 - Nov. 27, 2007

Born in Brooklyn on December 14, 1922, Cecil Payne proved one of the bebop era´s strongest baritone saxophonists; nonetheless, he has always worked in undeserved obscurity. After leaving the military service in 1946, Payne cast aside the guitar, alto, and clarinet to pick up the bari for a brief stint with Roy Eldridge´s Big Band. Payne soon joined the most progressive big band of the era, Dizzy Gillespie´s, where he made his reputation as a fluid player on a sometimes cumbersome instrument and played on the orchestra´s groundbreaking recordings, including Cubano-Be/Cubano-Bop. Payne later freelanced in NYC with Tadd Dameron and Coleman Hawkins (´49-´52), later working with Illinois Jacquet (´52-´54). Payne had remained highly active during the decades since; even though his eyesight had begun to fail him, his songful sax, flowing lines and warm tone, remained fully intact well into his 80's. He was a childhood friend of Randy Weston's and they remainded very close to this day. His friend Art Bailey was a major influence in his musical comeback and his life in the Greater Philadelphia area.

Cecil Payne was one of the truly great human beings on this Earth. His positive attitude and his endlessly optimistic nature, no matter how bad things were, always got you a "It is what it is" and an "Everything is Everything" and never a complaint or a negative word was uttered from his mouth. The Earth is a little emptier from his passing.

About 6 years ago, Cecil had gone into seclusion because his eye sight was failing and he didn't want to bother anyone. Ron Carter ran into Wendy Oxenhorn from the Jazz Foundation of America and said, "I'm worried about Cecil. No one has seen him in a year." The Jazz Foundation called him up, spoke to him, he said he was "fine" and didn't need any help. He admitted that he had been going blind, and being the independent strong soul that he was, could only walk as far as the local corner deli and was living on 2 cans of Slimfast and some M & M's for over a year and a half. After hearing that, Wendy tried to tell him that they could at least get "Meals On Wheels" delivered to his home and he'd get a wonderful meal each day- but he wouldn't hear of it. The next day, Wendy called him and said, "Cecil, I was up all night worried about you- please would you let us try the Meals on Wheels just once." Cecil said, "Well, I don't want you to worry about me and "Meals On Wheels" sounds cool..." as he said slowly in his Cecil way, "Meals .....on Wheels..."

Because of these nutritious meals his health improved, he came out of seclusion and started to play again in New York City at Smoke with Eric Alexander, Harold Mabern, Joe and John Farnsworth, John Webber and others he loved dearly. Minoru Odamaki was very helpful as well setting up gigs in New York and even driving him two hours away to the gigs. Now in his 80's, Cecil had the chance to play the Annual "Great Night In Harlem" Benefit Concert for the Jazz Foundation at the Apollo, where he was reunited with many old friends, seeing one another after all those years, like Quincy Jones, Ron Carter, Frank Foster, Freddie Hubbard, Candido, Ray Baretto, Clark Terry, Frank Wess and so many others. You would have thought he was 25 again if you had seen his face light up when being reunited with his peers. After this, Cecil found time to perform in the local nursing homes in the Somerdale area, entertaining elderly patients for free.

The Jazz Foundation became very close to Cecil, like family, and found other ways to make his life easier, along with another blessing that came into his life: his landlord Bucky Buchman, who knew and loved Cecil for over 20 years. Bucky also stepped in and along with his assistant Tony Bassett and Ian Greenan, who lived close by, they watched over him like he was part of the family and he was never really alone again. This past year Cecil spent in a nursing home with this extended family looking in on him several times a week. Never complaining about the pain of his Cancer, never a negative word, just the same optimistic Cecil who would say, "The Sun is Up and so am I, it's a good day."

Last year Cecil said to me, "I want to go home." He said he was tired and ready. He said, "It's time to go."

This morning, he got to do just that. He passed at 6:30 AM, he did not die alone. Bucky called to say "he's gone." The sun came up this morning and Cecil rose with it.

"Love and Bebop" Cecil Payne ...

Tom Terrell - The Man The Myth The Legend...

Tom's battle with cancer ended this morning at 5:05am. I'm happy to say that Tom's final days were pain free and peaceful. He was constantly surrounded by his loving family and friends during his time in the hospital/hospice. The outpouring of love helped Tom stay positive and strong through to the end.

The family is working on funeral arrangements, but tentative plans for the service are for next Saturday, December 8th in Washington, DC (all are welcome). They plan to organize a separate memorial service in NY, but are unsure of the timing.

Carlos Valdéz, the legendary Patato passed away in NYC on Tuesday December
4th, 2007-he was 81. "Patato" and not potato as often written is Cuban slang
for "shorty"-a stump. He died of respiratory failure, Patato was a heavy
smoker since he was a young teen. Born in La Habana, Cuba on November 4th
1926 patao is considered one of the most melodic percussionists ever and one
of the most mythical characters as well. he fashioned himself as quite a
chef and was famous for feeding dozens of fellow musicans and close friends
in his Brooklyn home after gigs from the wee wee hours of the morning into
the next afternoon. he helped developed the tuneable congas and showed
Bridgette Bardot how to dance the mambo in the closing moments of the late
50s film, "And God Created Woman"

In Cuba Patato was played with some of the finest bands starting out as a
teenger in the 1940s, he created the "penguin dance" while with the Conjunto
Casino in the 50s when he would appear on a daily Cuban television show, he
would take advantage of his slight built and jump on top of the congas and
do a penguin dance to the delight of the live audience and viewers. In 1955
his pals NEA Jazz Master Cándido Camero and Mongo Santamaría sponsored his
immigration to NYC. Mongo who was with the Tito Puente band at the time got
some of his band mates and others to go to the SMC/Coda studios and record 2
78rpms as a demo to show off the skills of Patato, that led to his work with
Kenny Dorham on the landmark Afro-Cuban date for Blue Note, from there he
went on to be with Herbie Mann for many years and the rest is easily
encountered in any quality jazz information publication.

Patato died on December 4th, a significant date for Cubans and for Patato
especially as the date is Changó Day, Santa(saintess)Barbara Day, one of the
most powerful and important dieties of the Afro-Cuban religious pantheon,
Patato was a son of changó, "hijo de changó". One of the finest performances
of Patato is with the Tito Puente Latin Percussion Jazz Ensemble, Live at
Montreux 1980. There is both a CD and DVD of that legendary concert on the
LP label. Señor Valdéz' last performance was in early November at the San
Francisco Jazz Festival when he played with the Conga Kings(Candyman
Camero-Giovani Hidalgo and Carlos). On his flight back to NYC he took
gravely ill forcing the flight to land in Cleveland, after an extended stay
in a Cleveland hospital, he was setn home to NYC in the care of his wife
Julia and soon lapsed into another respiratory failure eventually claiming
Carlos Valdéz-the immortal Patato. Here's a anecdote from a close friend,
compatriot and band mate-violinist Alfredo de la Fé " One of the top
percussionist in the World. Armando Peraza once told me that when la
Comparsa(conga ensemble during carnaval) El Cocuye came by the streets of
Havana you could hear the quinto(drum) 20 blocks away before any other
instrument. It was a small giant playing that quinto "Patato"

Arif Mardin (March 15, 1932 - June 25, 2006) was a renowned
Turkish-American music producer, who worked with a wide
range of artists, across many different styles and genres of music. He
was born in Istanbul, Turkey.
Arif Mardin was born into a renowned family that brought up statesmen,
diplomats and leaders in the civic, military and business sectors of
the Ottoman Empire and the Turkish Republic. His father was partner in
a petroleum gas station chain. His sister, Betül Mardin is the "grande
dame of public relations" today.
After graduating from Istanbul University in Economics and Commerce,
Arif Mardin studied at the London School of Economics. He was
influenced by his sister's music records and became a self-professed
jazz fanatic, as well as an accomplished orchestrator and arranger.
But he never intended to pursue a career in music. However, his fate
changed in 1956 after meeting the American jazz musicians Dizzy
Gillespie and Quincy Jones in a concert in Istanbul. He became the
first recipient of the Quincy Jones Scholarship at the Berklee College
of Music in Boston after Quincy Jones was so impressed from Mardin's
compositions that were recorded on a tape and sent to him. In 1958 he
and his shortly married wife Latife moved from Istanbul to Boston.
After graduating in 1961, he taught at Berklee for one year and went
to New York City to try his luck. Arif Mardin was later made a trustee
of the school and awarded an honorary doctorate.
Mardin began his career at Atlantic Records in 1963 as an assistant to
fellow Turk Nesuhi Ertegun, the co-founder of the company and a
legendary jazz enthusiast, whom he met at the Newport Jazz Festival.
He rose through the ranks quickly, becoming studio manager, label
house producer and arranger. In 1969, he became a vice president and
later served as senior vice president until 2001. He worked closely on
many projects with co-founder Ahmet Ertegun and Jerry Wexler, two
legends who were responsible for establishing the "Atlantic Sound".
Arif Mardin retired from Atlantic Records in May 2001 and re-activated
his label Manhattan Records. He maintains ties to the Turkish music
industry.
He produced countless hits artists including Carly Simon, The Young
Rascals, Bette Midler, Barbra Streisand, Diana Ross, Patti Labelle,
Average White Band, Anita Baker, the Bee Gees, Judy Collins, Phil
Collins, Culture Club, Roberta Flack, Aretha Franklin, Hall & Oates,
Donny Hathaway, Norah Jones, Chaka Khan, Melissa Manchester, Manhattan
Transfer, Modern Jazz Quartet, Willie Nelson, John Prine, Scritti
Politti, Queen, Dusty Springfield, David Bowie and Jewel.
In his career of more than 40 years, he collected over 40 gold and
platinum albums, over 15 Grammy nominations and 12 Grammy Awards. In
1990, Arif Mardin was inducted into the National Academy of Recording
Arts and Sciences Hall of Fame.
Arif's wife Latife is a playwright. Their son Joe, also a Berklee
graduate, is a producer and arranger while the daughter Julie is an
avant-garde artist-photographer.
Mardin died at his home on June 25, 2006 after a lengthy battle with
pancreatic cancer. He will be buried in Turkey.

Grammy-winning jazz producer Joel Dorn dies at 65
Mon Dec 17, 2007 9:13 PM ET

LOS ANGELES (Reuters) - Veteran record producer Joel Dorn, who worked with such artists as Roberta Flack, Max Roach and the Neville Brothers, died of a heart attack on Monday in New York. He was 65.
Dorn, a one-time disc-jockey at a Philadelphia jazz radio station, was perhaps best known for his work with Atlantic Records' prestigious jazz stable between 1967 and 1974. Working alongside the label's jazz chief, Nesuhi Ertegun, he brought a pop sensibility to works by musicians such as Roach, Herbie Mann, Les McCann and Eddie Harris, Mose Allison and Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
Dorn once said his two biggest influences were songwriting duo Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller, and producer Phil Spector.
"To this day before I go in and make a record, I'll throw on 'Be My Baby' or a Coasters record," he said.
In the pop field, he helped set Bette Midler and Flack on the course to stardom, producing their debut albums. He and Flack won consecutive record of the year Grammys, for "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face" (1972) and "Killing Me Softly With His Song" (1973).
He also ventured into rock with the Allman Brothers Band's second release, 1970's "Idlewild South," and Don McLean's 1974 album, "Homeless Brother." (McLean was the inspiration for the songwriters of "Killing Me Softly...")
Dorn "bridged the worlds of jazz and pop with enormous skill and grace, never compromising the integrity of his artists and their music," said Edgar Bronfman, Jr., the chairman and chief executive of Atlantic's Warner Music Group Inc parent.
Dorn left Atlantic in 1974, and worked for other labels' acts, such as Leon Redbone, Lou Rawls and the Neville Brothers. His collaboration with the latter spawned their 1981 breakthrough "Fiyo on the Bayou."
In his later years, he formed his own labels, and oversaw reissues of classic jazz albums for Columbia Records, Rhino Records and GRP Records. At the time of his death, he was a partner in the roots label Hyena Records, and was working on a five-disc tribute to his mentor, "Homage A Nesuhi." He is survived by three sons.

Oscar Peterson dies at 82

HAROLD BARKLEY/TORONTO STAR
Oscar Peterson in 1980.
December 24, 2007
THE CANADIAN PRESS

Jazz legend Oscar Peterson, widely counted among the most accomplished pianists in the world for his seemingly magical hands, has died at age 82, the CBC reports.

CBC said Peterson died at home in Mississauga, Ont., of kidney failure on Sunday night.

Peterson's storied 50-year career took him from the jazz clubs of 1950s Montreal to the bright lights of New York's Carnegie Hall and beyond.

He collected eight Grammys, including a lifetime achievement award in 1997, hundreds of prizes from the jazz community, the Governor General's Performing Arts Award for lifetime achievement and was a Companion of the Order of Canada.

In 2005 Canada Post marked his contribution to music with a 50-cent stamp.

The keyboard titan, who recorded almost 200 albums, played alongside the greats of the jazz world: Louis Armstrong, Count Basie, Charlie Parker, Roy Eldridge, Duke Ellington, Nat King Cole, Stan Getz, Dizzy Gillespie and Ella Fitzgerald.

"Mackin" Andrew Glackin 1963-2008

Drew Glackin, the most original lap steel player we have ever heard, one of the best friends we have ever had, and one of the most special humans this world was lucky enough to be treated to, passed away on January 5th 2008. He was unaware of an overactive thyroid condition that led to severe heart damage. Our thoughts are with his amazing family who has shown tremendous strength and love. The world just got a little bit more boring without you Drew. Forty four years was not enough, we are all applauding, banging on the tables demanding more. You made a difference and we thank you so much for everything you brought us, who you helped make us to be. We hope to make you proud of the years we have ahead. We know how you'd like it to be. It's not like you were ever vague about what you wanted. Thank you so very very much Mr. Glackin sir, what an amazing time we had.

Jack Grace
www.JackGrace.com

Irene Reid-
The last of a dying breed. One of the greatest singers that ever graced Harlem-

Friday January 4th Legend/vocalist Irene Reid, one of the greatest vocalists that ever graced a stage, has passed.

It was the same day as most of you already know, that Earl May (Legendary bassist) also passed at 4 PM- without any warning, he went almost instantly, without suffering, survived by his wonderful wife Lee. Arrangements and funeral services will be announced soon and certainly someone with more jazz history than I, will write about the one and only Earl May, one of the kindest, generous, most precious people in the world- but in the mean time- here's a little something about Irene.

First time I went to see Irene Reid, was when her health first was failing (over 5 years ago) and she was only able to sing 3 tunes in a set. I was young in my job at the Jazz Foundation and some folks told me that Irene had not been feeling well so I went to hear her at "Smoke" on Broadway and 106 St. and I introduced myself.

I watched her perform 2 sets. You could see he was struggling with her breathing and the club owner Paul had asked her if she needs to go to the hospital but she didn't want to disappoint the crowd that had packed the place waiting in line to see what was becoming rare moments when she was feeling well enough to make the gig. At one point, she was so dizzy she nearly fainted but no one in the audience saw this going on as she had been experiencing this in a small corner that had been set aside for her to rest between tunes. Irene insisted she would not leave till she finished the second set. She saved herself for the last tune of the set, a grand finale blues. That was when I first heard Irene Reid do what so few left on Earth can do anymore- I had to literally sit on my hands to keep from pulling out a harmonica and jumping on the stage- I had not heard blues like that in ages. For the length of that one tune, not one person in the crowd remembered that they were dealing with a divorce, or an illness or the sickness of a parent, or the heartbreak of having a teenage kid at home - no one in that room remembered they had to go to work on Monday to a job they didn't want, or their life was not what quite what they had expected-
for one moment, we were all free- we were complete, we were all happy and shouting from the irreplaceable irresistible reach-your-soul abilities of Irene Reid - After she finished, and everyone was on their feet standing up for her, she made her way through the crowd and asked me to help her into the car service that was waiting and we went straight to the hospital. That was the first night I had met her. We went to a hospital in the Bronx and when we got there, all they saw was an elderly person they assumed was poor, they said there were no beds and made us wait by the door, cold winds passing thru us, surrounded by homeless people who were coughing and the staff had that attitude that many of us have experienced in situations like this one.

So I went up to the head nurse and said, "Do you know who this is? She's a very famous singer." Then I went outside for a minute and made a call to the emergency room as if I was the assistant of a very famous person who I wont name, (but who gave me permission to do this) and asked if Miss Irene Reid was in the emergency room and said that "Mr. So and so was worried about her and wanted to know if she was all right." We got a bed within 2 minutes and the head doctor came out and she was treated like the royalty she was.

Sadly, she was not able to sing much after her health started to fail her more and more.
Irene had not been able to sing in any meaningful way these past few years and every time we'd speak, she would be going into the hospital or going home from the hospital. Our social worker Valerie Simon, who also loved her and was very close to her, had gotten her a special grant that paid her rent during the last few years of her life while she was homebound-

Sometimes she would be feeling so ill she could hardly stay on the phone but she never complained, she always remembered to ask how I was and how my children were and how the folks she knew were doing. Always she would sigh and just say, "it doesn't help to boo hoo about it" and then sometimes we would just stay silent knowing there was nothing much to be done but wait till the next doctor appointment just to be told nothing could really be done.

On New Year's Day I went to see her- she said she was really feeling bad and I brought along a new poodle puppy I had just gotten, knowing she missed having hers- When I walked into her room with the puppy, she had a huge smile on her face and looked as beautiful as she had when I first met her.

She said to me, "Wendy, it's too much, I feel so ill all the time, I can't do anything anymore, it's just too much." I held her and kissed her head and I had the feeling it might be the last time I got to do that. I felt such a feeling of love and sadness come over me, and I wished this wonderful, kind and caring woman some peace.

For someone like Irene, who was so filled up with the Music, not being able to give it or get it- was unimaginable and when Dr. Billy Taylor called me on Friday night with the news, I started to cry but then I was actually relieved.

Irene is now as free as her music made us- no more waiting, no more suffering.
There are few people that are so filled with that much music, but it will be enough to fly her all the way to Heaven-

With Love and sadness,
Wendy

For musicians who knew her and wish to perform at the services, please respond to this email.

To make a donation to the Jazz Foundation of America:
Go to the web site at:
www.jazzfoundation.org <http://www.jazzfoundation.org>

Some BIO on Irene:

Jazz vocalist Irene Reid first rose to prominence in the 1960s before mounting a surprising comeback in the late '90s. During the '60s, she recorded for some of the era's most prestigious jazz labels, including Verve (Room for One More, 1965; It's Too Late, 1966). However, in the '70s, she disappeared from the spotlight after recording an album for Polydor, The World Needs What I Need (1971). It wasn't until the late '90s that she returned to prominence, recording some albums for Savant, beginning with Million Dollar Secret (1997).

The really great jazz vocalists share something in common with their renowned instrumental counterparts. That is, they possess a truly identifiable sound and approach that cannot be mistaken for another. For just two examples, any jazz fan worth their weight could identify Frank Sinatra or Dinah Washington in a mere few notes. Truth is though, there were many vocal artists in the '50s and '60s that never obtained star status but certainly qualified as being individualists with something important to say.
When Norman Granz started recording jazz on his Clef label in the mid '40s; it would be such vociferous jazzmen as Illinois Jacquet, Gene Krupa, and Lionel Hampton that would become his source of pleasure. Only after the Verve imprimatur debuted in 1956 did Granz add some vocal talent to the roster in the guise of the legendary Ella Fitzgerald. During the '60s when Creed Taylor would take the helm of artist management, an even more impressive line-up of vocal talent would be added to the catalog. Anita O'Day, Astrud Gilberto, Susan Rafey, Jackie & Roy, Jacy Parker, Pat Thomas, and Irene Reid are just a few of the names that come from this era.

In the spotlight for our purposes this time around is the outstanding Irene Reid, still active and recording these days. Back in 1965, Reid was just in the process of making a name for herself and had appeared on two tracks of Lalo Schifrin's Once a Thief album. Her own Verve debut, Room For One More puts her in front of a large ensemble arranged and conducted by Oliver Nelson and the results are uniformly excellent. Typical for the time, the musicians assembled for the festivities are nothing short of being the pick of the litter- Charlie Mariano, Jerome Richardson, Phil Woods, Jerry Dodgion, Thad Jones, Joe Newman, Jimmy Cleveland, Urbie Green, and J.J. Johnson. Tasteful and supportive, the rhythm section includes Kenny Burrell, Bob Cranshaw, Roger Kellaway, and Grady Tate.

Two Buddy Johnson classics are featured among a memorable program. Both “Save Your Love For Me” and “I Wonder Where Our Love Has Gone” find Reid belting out an emotionally charged message with perfect intonation and just the right touch of reverb provided by the eminent Rudy Van Gelder. Nelson's resonant charts never get in the way, but create the perfect environment for Reid to strut her stuff. “Who Can I Turn To” gets a definitive performance as Reid flaunts her way with a ballad, the final cadenza displaying her great range and a penchant for creating those goose bumps. On a lighter note, the theme from “Bewitched” takes a bow with lyrics and a delectable arrangement that swings merrily.

From an article on All About Jazz.com

Tata Güines, King of the Conga Drum Dead
Mon Feb 4, 1:10 PM ET

HAVANA (Reuters) - "King of the Congas" Tata Guines, Cuba's most famous percussionist who shared the stage with Josephine Baker and Frank Sinatra half a century ago, died on Monday in Havana. He was 77.

Cuban state media reported that Guines, whose real name was Federico Aristides Soto, died of a kidney infection.

He was born in a poor black neighborhood in the town of Guines, just east of Havana, and made his first bongo drums from sausage and condensed milk cans. Guines became a legend playing the conga, a tall and narrow drum of Congolese origin brought to Cuba by African slaves. He performed with the top names in Cuban music like Arsenio Rodriguez, Chano Pozo, Bebo Valdes and Israel "Cachao" Lopez.

In 1957, Guines moved to New York where he jammed with jazz greats Dizzy Gillespie, Maynard Ferguson and Miles Davis at Birdland.
Guines stunned audiences with his driving Afro-Cuban beat by playing five congas and singing at the Waldorf Astoria hotel in a solo performance that put percussion at center stage.

Guines enjoyed celebrity and owned his own car, but never got used to life in the United State due to racial segregation, he said in an interview published last year.
"Fame did not extend beyond the stage. Once you left the stage, it was like the signs said: 'Whites only,"' he said.

Guines returned to Cuba in 1959 soon after Fidel Castro came to power in a leftist revolution that he helped fund with contributions from his earnings as a musician.
Like other Cuban musicians who returned to fame late in life through the Buena Vista Social Club recording, Guines enjoyed renewed success in 2004 playing congas on the Latin Grammy-winning "Lagrimas Negras" (Black Tears) by pianist Bebo Valdes and Spanish Flamenco singer Diego El Cigala.

Henri Salvador, the velvet-voiced French musician credited with inspiring the bossa nova, bringing American rock 'n' roll to France and helping to create the music video, has died, his record label said.

He was 90.

Salvador died at his Paris home of a ruptured aneurysm, said Carine Herve, of the Polydor label.

Salvador was known for his claps of booming laughter, raucous sense of humour, silky singing and incredible staying power. He worked past his 90th birthday last year and Polydor said he had planned to record a new album in 2008.

He ended his stage career with a farewell concert in December. "I am the only one who can bow out while still alive," he said then.

Innovation was a constant force in Salvador's long and varied life, which took him from France's South American enclave of Guiana to Paris' most prestigious stages - and won the hearts of generations of French fans.

President Nicolas Sarkozy said Salvador existed "at the crossroads of jazz, song and bossa nova, of Europe and the Americas," and that his death was a cause of "infinite sadness". "For more than a half-century, with humour and elegance, Henri Salvador was the incarnation of the art of song 'a la francaise'," Sarkozy said in a statement.

Prime Minister Francois Fillon said in a statement that Salvador's "hallmark laugh and his sunny personality will be missed by generations of French people".

Salvador's honeyed voice appeared to defy the passage of time, remaining smooth and supple until the end. Salvador chalked it up to his technique. "I don't sing, I whisper," he said in a 2006 interview. "When you whisper into the mike, you are able to transmit real feeling."

Whether he was singing jazz, blues, rock 'n' roll or chanson francaise - traditional French pop - feeling was the key ingredient in Salvador's prolific and varied music.

Chris Anderson, 81, Influential Jazz Pianist, Is Dead
By NATE CHINEN
Published: February 9, 2008
Chris Anderson, a jazz pianist whose sophisticated and personal approach to harmony made him a pronounced influence on many other players, notably Herbie Hancock, died in Manhattan on Monday. He was 81.

The cause was complications of a stroke, said Al Sutton, a longtime friend and archivist of Mr. Anderson’s recordings, who said that he left no immediate survivors.

Mr. Anderson had a thoughtful and rewardingly deliberative style; he could give the impression of creating new harmonic sequences in the course of an improvisation. He often drew his repertory from the standard songbook, including music by Duke Ellington, one of the few jazz pianists he claimed as an inspiration.

Mr. Anderson was born in Chicago with limited vision and the congenital condition known as brittle bone disease. By age 20, as a result of cataracts, he was completely blind.

By then Mr. Anderson, a self-taught pianist, was already working steadily in Chicago. His style endeared him to both visiting luminaries and local musicians. In 1950, when Charlie Parker played the Pershing Ballroom, Mr. Anderson was in the band. Mr. Hancock studied with him as a young man and later described him as a “master of harmony and sensitivity.”

Mr. Anderson settled in New York in 1961 after working there with the singer Dinah Washington. Within the next two years he broke both hips, restricting his ability to work. So his reputation grew mainly among musicians, including the pianist Barry Harris, who regularly featured him as a guest in his concerts, and the drummer Billy Higgins, with whom he would eventually record.

Mr. Anderson made just a handful of albums, and some of these — on the Alsut label, set up by Mr. Sutton for this purpose — were not widely distributed. But his sporadic appearances, usually in a solo or duo setting, drew followers as well as friends.

Teo Macero, 82, Record Producer, Dies
By BEN RATLIFF
Published: February 22, 2008

Teo Macero, a record producer, composer and saxophonist most famous for his role in producing a series of albums by Miles Davis in the late 1960s and early 1970s, including editing that almost amounted to creating compositions after the recordings, died on Tuesday in Riverhead, N.Y. He was 82 and lived in Quogue, N.Y.

His death followed a long illness, his stepdaughter, Suzie Lightbourn, said.

Helping to build Miles Davis albums like “Bitches Brew,” “In a Silent Way” and “Get Up With It,” Mr. Macero (pronounced TEE-oh mah-SEH-roh) used techniques partly inspired by composers like Edgard Varèse, who had been using tape-editing and electronic effects to help shape the music. Such techniques were then new to jazz and have largely remained separate from it since. But the electric-jazz albums he helped Davis create — especially “Bitches Brew,” which remains one of the best-selling albums by a jazz artist — have deeper echoes in almost 40 years of experimental pop, like work by Can, Brian Eno and Radiohead.

Davis’s routine in the late 1960s was to record a lot of music in the studio with a band, much of it improvised and based on themes and even mere chords that he would introduce on the spot. Later Mr. Macero, with Davis’s help, would splice together vamps and bits and pieces of improvisation.

For example, Mr. Macero isolated a little melodic improvisation Davis played on the trumpet for “Shhh/Peaceful” on “In a Silent Way” and used it as the theme, placing it at the beginning and the end of the piece. Even live recordings he sometimes treated as drafts; the first track of Davis’s “Live at Fillmore East,” from 1970, contains a snippet pasted in from a different song.

Mr. Macero strongly believed that the finished versions of Davis’s LPs, with all their intricate splices and sequencing — done on tape with a razor blade, in the days before digital editing — were the work of art, the entire point of the exercise. He opposed the current practice of releasing boxed sets that include all the material recorded in the studio, including alternate and unreleased takes. Mr. Macero was not involved in Columbia’s extensive reissuing of Davis’s work for the label, in lavish boxed sets from the mid-’90s until last year.

Attilio Joseph Macero was born and raised in Glens Falls, N.Y. He served in the Navy, then moved to New York in 1948 to attend the Juilliard School of Music, where he studied with the composer Henry Brant. In 1953 he became involved with Charles Mingus in the cooperative organization called the Jazz Composers Workshop; he played in Mingus’s other groups and put out his own records on Debut Records, the label founded by Mingus and Max Roach.

While simultaneously working as a tenor saxophonist — with Mingus, Teddy Charles and the Sandole Brothers, among others — and composing modern classical music as well as working in the classical-to-jazz idiom then called Third Stream, he joined Columbia Records in 1957. He was first hired as a music editor; in 1959 he became a staff producer.

At Columbia he worked with artists like J. J. Johnson, Mahalia Jackson, Johnny Mathis, Thelonious Monk and Dave Brubeck, for whom he produced the famous album “Time Out.” He also produced Broadway cast albums like “A Chorus Line” and film soundtracks.

Mr. Macero left Columbia in 1975. He later worked with the singer Robert Palmer, the Lounge Lizards, Vernon Reid, D.J. Logic and others.

Besides Ms. Lightbourn, of Morristown, N.J., he is survived by his wife, Jeanne, of Quogue, N.Y., and his sister, Lydia Edwards of Sarasota, Fla., and Queensbury, N.Y.

Annie Thorogood

It has been a sad few days for many of us here in the Indaba community. On February 21st an Indaba member many of you have come to know, Annie Thorogood, passed after struggling for years with Multiple Sclerosis. In the time that Annie was with us her words and music touched many.

Over her last months our community became increasingly important to her as she met new friends and even re-connected with old family through the site. She recently shared with us that, "Nowadays, I MAKE myself get up in the mornings, just in case I might have a message from anyone at Indaba."

We are saddened by our loss, but we hope that you will join us in remembering Annie and celebrating her life with the same joy that she brought to many of ours.

In this spirit, we invite you to help us in remembering Annie by taking part in the following three things:

- Please visit Annie's profile and view the comments from a few of the people she touched.

- Please listen to the session, Kaleidoscope For Annie. It is a musical collaboration for Annie and her family by some of her friends in the Indaba community.

- In memory of Annie, Indaba Music has made a donation to the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. We invite you to do the same, in the hopes that one day we will conquer the disease, which has affected so many.

Thank you. Our thoughts are, and will remain, with the Thorogood family.

- Mantis and the Indaba Music team

Legendary musician 'Cachao' dies at 89
Miami Herald Sat, Mar. 22, 2008

JEFFREY BOAN / EL NUEVO
Israel Lopez "Cachao" performs at the Carnival Center in Miami.
Known to the world simply by his nickname -- Cachao -- bassist, composer and bandleader Israel López died Saturday morning at Coral Gables Hospital of complications resulting from kidney failure. He was 89.

Cachao was one of the most important living figures in Cuban music, on or off the island, and ''arguably the most important bassist in twentieth-century popular music,'' according to Cuban-music historian Ned Sublette. He not only innovated Cuban music but also influenced the now familiar bass lines of American R&B, ''which have become such a part of the environment that we don't even think where they came from,'' Sublette said.

Cachao and his brother Orestes are most widely known for their late-1930s invention of the mambo, a hot coda to the popular but stately danzón that allowed the dancers to break loose at the end of a piece.

It debuted in a chic Havana night club -- and flopped.

''Nothing happened,'' Cachao told The Miami Herald in 1992. ``Here was this 180-degree turn. The whole orchestra was out of work for six months after that because people didn't understand that type of music.''

Typically modest, Cachao always credited bandleader Dámaso Pérez Prado for making the beat world-famous in the 1950s.

''People think there could've been some antagonism,'' Cachao said. But ``if it weren't for him, the mambo wouldn't be known around the world.''

A possibly more important musical moment took place in 1957, when Cachao gathered a group of musicians in the early morning hours, pumped from playing gigs at Havana's popular nightclubs, for an impromptu jam at a recording studio. The resulting descargas, known to music aficionados worldwide as Cuban jam sessions, revolutionized Afro-Cuban popular music. Under Cachao's direction, these masters improvised freely in the manner of jazz, but their vocabulary was Cuba's popular music. This was the model that wold make live performances of Afro-Cuban based genres, from salsa to Latin jazz, so incredibly hot.

This majestic influence came from a man of sweet demeanor and unassailable sense of humor. Fronting his band at a fancy dance in Coral Gables when he was already in his late 80s, he seemed so frail that he had to lean his whole body on the contrabass to keep from falling. But his beatific smile and closed eyes proved that he was in heaven already, embracing his instrument like a lover, like a strong friend.

Yet he no longer owned a bass.

''That's outrageous,'' said jazz legend Charlie Haden when he heard this at the time. ``I'll give him one of mine.''

But a contrabass took up too much room in his small Coral Gables apartment. Besides, what need did he have to rehearse? Cachao carried his bass, his music, inside him.

A marvel of the 20th century, Cachao was born in 1918 in the same Havana house where Cuban poet and patriot José Martí was born. He was the youngest of three children in a family of distinguished musicians, many of them bassists -- around 40 and counting in his extended family.

As an 8-year-old bongo player, he joined a children's septet that included a future famous singer and bandleader, Roberto Faz. A year later, already on bass, he provided music for silent movies in his neighborhood theater, in the company of a pianist who would become a true superstar, the great cabaret performer Ignacio Villa, known as Bola de Nieve (Snowball).

His parents made sure Cachoa was classically trained, first at home and then at a conservatory. When he was 13, he joined his father and brother in the Orquesta Filarmónica de La Habana -- The Havana Philharmonic -- playing contrabass under the baton of guest conductors like Herbert von Karajan, Igor Stravinsky and Heitor Villa-Lobos. He had to stand on a box to reach the strings.

He was equally at home playing in a dance band, changing out of his coattails at the end of a concert to play with Arcano y sus Maravillas. When they weren't playing, Cachao and his brother created some 3,000 danzones.

''One day I was in my own home and I turned on the radio,'' he told The Miami Herald. 'And I heard a danzón that I liked. And I said `Who is that'? -- and at that moment, the announcer says it's mine.''

After a rich musical career in his home country, he left Cuba in 1962. His brother Orestes stayed on the island. As retribution for leaving, Cachao said, the Cuban government removed his name from all of his recordings, leaving only Orestes on the label. That, he said, was a ``big tragedy.''

Cachao eventually landed in Las Vegas because, as he admitted, ``I was a compulsive gambler.''

Though cured later in life, he nearly gambled away every penny until his wife whisked him away.

For a while, he had two distinct musical personae. In the New York salsa scene he was revered as a music god, with homage concerts dedicated to him, and records of his music produced by Cuban-music collector René López. In Miami, he was an ordinary working musician who would play quinceañeras and weddings, or back up dance bands in the notorious Latin nightclubs of the Miami Vice era.

It took a celebrity, Miami's own Andy García, to integrate his musical personality into one: that of a legendary master. In the '90s, García produced the recordings known as Master Sessions, accompanied by big concerts honoring his legacy. Cachao's star rose again.

But he remained a working musician, if at a much higher level of appreciation. Cachao continued to perform and record with all the energy of a much younger artist. Though already frail and distraught at the funeral of his fellow legend, trombonist Generoso Jiménez, in September 2007, he headlined a rollicking concert in Miami a week later.

Earlier this month, just days before he was hospitalized, the multiple Grammy winner was in the Dominican Republic receiving a lifetime achievement award. Cachao was planning an European tour in August with violinist Federico Britos, with whom he frequently collaborated.

The day before his death, Cachao told his friend Britos, ''When am I supposed to record with you again? I have to get out of bed.'' And he was in pre-production for a CD of new compositions.

''It was not only a great musician who died,'' said producer Emilio Estefan, who was at his bedside, ``but a great señor -- a gentleman. Even in his deathbed he would make sure his visitors felt at ease. He belonged to the people.''

Cachao, whose wife of 58 years, Ester Buenaventura López, died in 2004, is survived by their daughter María Elena López, grandson Hector Luis Vega and his nephew Daniel Palacio.

Miriam Makeba (Vocalist)

(b: 4.Mar.1932, Johannesburg/South Africa; d: 9.Nov.2008, Castel
Volturno/Italy)

The singer Miriam Makeba died November 9th in a hospital in Castel Volturno, Italy, at the age of 76 after she had collapsed from a heart attack after a benefit concert. Makeba started as a jazz singer in 1950s South Africa and was one of the first South African musicians to tour Western countries in the 1960s. She always was outspoken against Apartheid and was barred from re-entry to her home country in 1960. She had a big hit with "Pata, Pata" in 1967, married the Black Power activist Stokely Carmichael in 1968, subsequently having to leave the United States, settling in Guinea where she
received a diplomat's passport. She only returned to South Africa in 1990.

Makeba was often referred to as "Mama Africa"; she was one the continent's most prominent and beloved musicians.

Tony Reedus, 49, top jazz drummer
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
BY ZAN STEWART
Star-Ledger Staff

A man with a big heart and a big beat, drummer Tony Reedus cared for other people the way he cared about making a band swing.

"He was true blue, he'd do anything for you," said pianist Mulgrew Miller, who knew Mr. Reedus as a youth in Memphis, where the drummer was born, and later employed him in his trio in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

"He was supersensitive," said his wife, violinist Jenise Grice-Reedus. "He'd see a person who was sad and would go talk to that person, and would have another friend for life."

"He was a funny guy," said organist and pianist Mike LeDonne, with whom Mr. Reedus regularly performed. "Just a sweetheart, that's what Tony Reedus was, and great to work with."

Mr. Reedus died Sunday of a pulmonary embolism en route by ambulance to Jamaica Hospital Medical Center in the Richmond Hill section of Queens. He had collapsed at John F. Kennedy International Airport after getting off an American Airlines flight from Bologna, Italy, where he had been performing with LeDonne. He was 49.

Mr. Reedus lived in Irvington with his wife and their 5-year-old daughter, Cameron. He had been troubled with undetermined gastrointestinal issues since August.

A superb musician, Mr. Reedus picked up the drums when he was 13 and broke into the upper echelon of jazz just seven years later, performing and recording with innovative trumpeter Woody Shaw. In a story in The Star-Ledger in 2006, he likened joining Shaw to a baseball player "going from single-A to the Show."

"It was music on such a high level," said Mr. Reedus.

He played on Shaw's albums "United" (Columbia) and "Master of the Art" (Elektra/Musician).

Mr. Reedus also played and recorded with such masters as trumpeter Freddie Hubbard, vibraphonist Milt Jackson, saxophonist Benny Golson, and guitarist Dave Stryker. Mr. Reedus also was a leader who made three solo albums.

Mr. Reedus was noted for his all-around drum kit acumen -- in particular, his ride cymbal beat. "He had a real wide beat, and his feel on the cymbal was unique," said Stryker, whose organ trio included Mr. Reedus for several years. "He felt great to play with, just really swinging, dancing."

Of the importance of that beat, Mr. Reedus said in 2006, "It's a heavy feeling that makes people want to pat their feet, sway back and forth. When people come to see you play, they want to escape, they want to feel good. Music is a celebration of life that comes from the heart."

Mr. Reedus returned to college in the middle of his career, earning a B.A. in music from Rutgers University-New Brunswick in 2005. "The day he graduated was one of the happiest days of his life," said Grice-Reedus, who plays with the Garden State Philharmonic and the Plainfield Symphony and leads the Ebony String Quartet.

Another was the birth of his daughter. "He loved being a father, being married," said Stryker.

Linda Grice, Mr. Reedus' mother-in-law, said: "He loved his family; he took good care of my daughter and my granddaughter."

Mr. Reedus' survivors include his brothers Chris and Keith, both of Memphis.

A visitation will be held Sunday at 2 p.m., with services at 4 p.m., at the Prospect Presbyterian Church, 646 Prospect St., Maplewood. More information is available by calling (973) 763-8955 or visiting the church's website (prospectchurch.org).

Zan Stewart is the Star-Ledger's jazz writer. He may be reached at zstewart@starledger.com or (973) 324-9930.

©2008 Star Ledger
© 2008 NJ.com All Rights Reserved.

Peter Levinson, Publicist and Biographer of Jazz Greats, Is Dead at 74

Peter J. Levinson, a music publicist who parlayed his close familiarity with jazz personalities into rich and sometimes intimate biographies of them, died on Oct. 21 at his home in Malibu, Calif. He was 74.

The cause was injuries suffered from a fall, said Dale Olson, a publicist and his longtime friend.

Nearly two years ago Mr. Levinson received a diagnosis of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, the neurodegenerative disease popularly called Lou Gehrig’s disease. With the aid of his talking computer he was able to write and carry on business until the day he died.

Mr. Levinson handled publicity for stars including Dave Brubeck, Rosemary Clooney, Stan Getz, Woody Herman, the Modern Jazz Quartet and Mel Tormé. He publicized the hit television series “Dallas” and the film “Kramer vs. Kramer” (1979), which won an Academy Award for best picture. He helped to orchestrate the campaign to issue a postage stamp honoring Duke Ellington.

In an interview in 2004 with Tom Nolan on the Web site januarymagazine.com, Mr. Levinson said he had never planned to become an author. “I can’t say that I set a path for myself to do this,” he said. “It just occurred to me.”

“If you work as a publicist,” he added, “you’re working not only with artists but with managers and agents and so forth. You get an understanding of what careers are all about.”

Mr. Levinson’s first book was “Trumpet Blues: The Life of Harry James” (1999), a biography of the trumpeter and bandleader. Mr. Levinson mined his reminiscences from 24 years of knowing James, as well as from 200 interviews with musicians and James’s friends, to paint a portrait that pulled few punches.

“Long before there was sex, drugs and rock and roll, there was sex, alcohol and big-band swing,” People magazine said about the book. “And as this surprisingly absorbing biography suggests, trumpet player Harry James could have been the role model for Mick Jagger.”

Mr. Levinson next wrote “September in the Rain: The Life of Nelson Riddle” (2001), about the arranger known for his work with Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald and Nat King Cole. Variety praised Mr. Levinson’s detailed description of the artistic and personal relationship between Sinatra and Riddle, again drawing from his experiences with both. But the review also complained that mountains of “mundane detail” got in the way of the Sinatra story.

His next book was “Tommy Dorsey: Livin’ in a Great Big Way” (2005), which told how Sinatra patterned himself after Dorsey, the trombonist and bandleader, in everything from his way of breathing while singing to his wardrobe to his dashing self-assuredness. A fourth book, “Puttin’ on the Ritz: Fred Astaire and the Fine Art of Panache — a Biography,” is scheduled to be published in March.

Mr. Levinson was born on July 1, 1934, in Atlantic City and graduated from the University of Virginia, where he began writing about jazz artists and producing jazz concerts. He continued to produce concerts while serving in the Army in Korea. He then took a job as a music publicist with Columbia Records, after a brief stint as a freelance writer.

He eventually started his own publicity firm in New York and later expanded it to Los Angeles.

Mr. Levinson is survived by his wife, Grace Diekhaus, and a brother, Dr. John Levinson, of Wilmington, Del.

In his 2004 interview, he said his publicity background not only helped him gather material for books but also helped him promote them. When publicists for the Harry James book failed to get him radio appearances, he said, he personally set up 23 interviews with disc jockeys.

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By DOUGLAS MARTIN
Published: November 15, 2008