Jazz musician and teacher Clark Terry died last month. Jazz journalist Jeroen de Valk looks back on a candid interview with one of the greatest trumpet players of all time.
It wasn't until February 21 that he fell silent, Clark Terry. He was 94 and had been in the musician's business for at least 75 years. Go figure: he made his living as a trumpet player as a young teenager and remained active until his last hospitalisation a few weeks back. Blind, legs amputated due to diabetes, no longer able to hold the trumpet due to arthritis. But he continued to receive students whom he provided with instructive tips after listening attentively.
In the course of those 75 years, he regularly made the press; then there was a momentary hype that then passed away again. It started when he was a star soloist with Count Basie and Duke Ellington respectively. Later, he had a hit with 'Mumbles', an improvised song he sang in an unintelligible mumble language.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJuFDvH8wGs
He caught the attention of US TV viewers as one of the first black musicians in the Tonight Show orchestra. And then, in the final years before his death, there was his relationship with one of his pupils: the young pianist Justin Kauflin. A great documentary called Keep on Keepin' on was dedicated to this.
Beautiful moments, but no more than incidents in the daily life of a tirelessly creative and enduring musician. CT's repertoire ranged from Louis Armstrong to semi-free music to hip conservatory chords. He mastered it all, without ever denying his own style. What did that own style sound like? Pleasant and recognisable. A lilting tone, short and precisely timed melodies like musical aphorisms and perfect technique. He never seemed to miss a note, even when producing a hundred a minute in what jazz musicians call 'a jezust tempo'.
In December 1993, I spoke to Terry at length in Amsterdam. He had a few days' engagement at Parker's, a club in Amsterdam where I myself filled the quiet Monday evenings with my bands. The trumpeter was in a wheelchair in his hotel room and - but I only noticed this after 15 minutes - turned out to be particularly visually impaired. ''Diabetes,'' he said apologetically. ,,I work here in Amsterdam with a few young musicians from the city, and ideally I would like to play their pieces too. Because I am not a primadonna but 'one of the boys'. On stage, it's just four guys playing music. But I can hardly read sheet music now. Fortunately, I know all the standards in all keys. My memory is fine.'' (Tapping his forehead:) ''It's all up here.''
What were we talking about? About his perhaps first student, Miles Davis, who, like CT, grew up in Saint Louis. ''I told him right away: don't shiver, make nice, long, tight notes.'' Later, in New York, he was heavy on drugs and hungry. I gave him one meal and a bed to sleep in. I walk around a bit and what do I see? Miles is gone, as well as my gig suit and my trumpet. He took everything to the pawnshop. Later he apologised.''
On Count Basie: ,,He was easy-going, but in his subdued way had a perfect sense of the right tempo. One of our biggest hits, Li'l Darlin', he gave an extremely slow tempo. But just the right one! It was the most swinging orchestra in the world. And a terribly sociable orchestra, one big club of friends. After the gig, we went for a drink and a chat.''
On Duke Ellington: ,,Duke had the least sociable orchestra in the world. All junkies, alcoholics and kleptomaniacs. There was always bickering about money and the distribution of solos. If you made mistakes, everyone turned their backs on you. If you played well, they thought you were a show-off. I was the only one who managed to stay out of all the fights. I stayed there for so long because the music was beautiful. Duke was a great composer and arranger.''
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7Lqa1vyzZc
On The Tonight Show and the much other session work he tackled: ,,I got through the lean years for jazz that way: the 1960s and early 1970s. Colleagues thought I was corny and bourgeois. I was happy with any fat cheque. Then I thought back to my shabby childhood in Saint Louis. When it snowed, I had to put newspapers in my shoes there, because there were holes in them.''
On the then controversial jazz courses: , "Be glad they are there! I now sit with a perfect band of conservatory boys in Amsterdam. We used to, we had to invent the wheel ourselves. An older trumpet player once advised me: 'Press that mouthpiece against your lips as hard as possible!' But that's exactly what you shouldn't do, that way you destroy your embouchure. He just didn't want any competition. I have been receiving students when I am at home in New York for decades now. That teaching, I can go on with that for as long as possible. It's as inspiring as making music. There will come a day when I won't be able to travel anymore; already everything is difficult, except playing myself. Thank God.''
www.clarkterry.com
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