Woody Guthrie, Big Bend, and making it all up

Woody Guthrie's Seeds of Man was inspired by a 1931 trip the author remembered.... or mis-remembered... in 1947-8. The novel wasn't published until 1976.
By evidence of this rambling tome, Woody Guthrie wrote more about his 1931 trip to Big Bend, than about any other single topic. Although, that may be unfairly comparing songs to prose.
A visitor to the mysterious border wilderness known as Big Bend, where Seeds of Man is set, will not quickly grasp how formative was Guthrie's own visit. He was an impressionable young man in 1931 whose travels thus far had been limited to Oklahoma and Texas. Woodrow Wilson Guthrie took his family gift of music and optimism farther than any Guthrie had before. It some ways, it could be said this magical trip started it all.
In 1941 he was part of the propaganda effort for the Coulee and Bonneville dams on the Columbia River. 26 ballads in 30 days, he had so much creativity coming out of him. His autobiographical novel Bound for Glory came in 1943. As he began to feel the curse of Huntington's Disease in the late 1940's, he typed like a madman on a novel he originally titled Study Butte,calling it "An Experience Lived and Dreamed," the chronicle of a search to look for his family's lost silver claim in the Christmas Mountains.
According to family legend, Guthrie patriarch Jeremiah Pearsall Guthrie, "Jerry P.," had a brother Gid who owned much of what became the Sam Nail ranch. The remains of Sam Nail's ranch buildings, including a still-pumping water well which feeds a desert oasis, were at my last visit (20+ years ago),located a mere five minute walk from Ross Maxwell Drive in the park, clearly marked for tourists.
Jerry P. helped out intermittently on Gid's ranch, chasing cows and guarding his property against Mexican raids. On one of these forays, he discovered ore while stopping to take a drink from a mineral spring. It was assayed as $100 of silver per ton, $10 of gold, plus copper, zinc, mercury and other minerals. Jerry P. left his name on a piece of paper wired to a pile of flat rocks to mark his claim.
Instead of returning to work the claim, he was distracted by news of free Oklahoma land being given to native Americans whose names appeared on tribal rolls. Jerry P.'s second wife had been one eighth Creek, so he figured he had a shot. He moved back to Oklahoma, didn't get the land, and died before he could return to Big Bend.
When I talked with Guthrie biographer Joe Klein about this story, he said, "the idea that Jerry P. Guthrie had discovered a rich vein of silver in the mountains near Uncle Gid's ranch was one of the least likely and most persistent of family legends."
So persistent in fact, that Woody, his father Charley, brother Roy, and uncle Jeff Davis Guthrie, went on a "strange, joyous, memorable debacle" in search of the wealth.
As Seeds of Man describes, they drove from Pampa, Texas to the desert in 2 days in a broken down old Model T. As they drove into Terlingua they saw the mansion of the owner of the quicksilver mine, on the right up on a hill, where it stood when last seen. At my decades-ago visit, the building was occupied by Pam Weir, proprietor of the Desert Deli & Diner in the Terlingua ghost town.
Down below, he saw the adobe shacks of the mine workers, an image that would stick with Woody Guthrie.
Over to the east from Terlingua were the Chisos Mountains, which he would describe from memory 16 years later in his 842-page manuscript.
As the story goes, they came into Terlingua, wended their way to Study Butte, and found their way to Sam Nail's ranch. The tattered maps treasured in the Guthrie family outlined the location of the mine from Nail Ranch. Sam and his brother had found a small pocket of native quicksilver while walking to Alpine through the Christmas Mountains. Although the Nail entourage had been unable to locate the quicksilver pocket on their return trip, word of their discovery eventually led to the Wright mine and

the development of the Terlingua mining district, which extended 16 miles from Study Butte west to Lajitas, and was 5 miles north to south. When the Guthries met up with Sam Nail, they agreed to share the wealth.
Even though traces of cinnabar, or quicksilver ore, had been reported early as 1889, large scale production began around 1903 with founding of the Chisos Mining Company, and was a linchpin of the local economy until 1946 (and then again for a short time in the 1960s).
Of the novel, Joe Klein told me, "he made it all up.... it was maybe that one trip when he was really close to his dad and his uncle, and it was the kind of thing that was mostly bereft in his childhood."

Michael Feinstein's American Songbook DVD set

This Three-Park Series on PBS is subtitled "Cultural History, Intimate Biography, and a front-row seat at great live performances." It is all that and more. The cultural history revolves around how the "American Songbook" was once focused on movies and plays, how it became a propaganda arm of the Allies in WWII, and how things changed after that war.

The intimate biography is of Michael Feinstein, not that intimate perhaps, but focusing on his acquisition of artifacts from the 20th century American Songbook, in order to keep the 21st century from forgetting them. This is the part that engaged me the most. Feinstein knocks on doors of collections both grandly indexed and-- just as likely-- sadly dilapidated. He zeroes right in on items of merit, if you believe the DVD, but editing must have helped. Though his scouting is far more glamorous than my own similar journeys, the end result is, for old musical memorabilia, the same. A temporary reprieve from the landfill.

People just don't have time to see what's on those old tape reels, acetates, records. Confronted with hundreds of pieces of historic sheet music from a relative, the inheritor is often overwhelmed. But I'm not. Michael Feinstein is most certainly not. We wade through these things because "lost" and "lost but not forgotten" are basically the same, in our narrow view. As Nicholson Baker has written, preservation of originals is something to be done for its own sake, even after all the proper digitizing has been duly accomplished.

Disk Two has two hours of archival clips showing some of the wartime uses of music for propaganda, such as Army sing-a-long films (long before Mitch Miller). The care taken in song delivery and offering the singer as a surrogate for the girl back home is striking. It is easy to imagine Frank Capra directing these. Other gorgeous live clips include Frank Sinatra in the 1940s, 50s, and 60s (Feinstein has a show called The Sinatra Project), and examples from Bing Crosby, Paul Whiteman, Rosemary Clooney, Alice Faye and many more.

The clips of Michael Feinstein's show are also very good, showing a performer in complete command of his material. Interestingly, his approach to romance, though fully drawn, lacks a female counterpart. He is only shown singing either alone or with other guys. I miss the guy-girl thing from network television in the 1950s and 60s. Those made-for-TV duos were strange bedfellows often as not, but the song seemed more "acted" sometimes.

Not much of a quibble for 5 hours of viewing, which I found myself watching with a permanent smile. It was sent along via a dear friend and patron of our store, who ordered me a copy of this great program directly from the producer, shopPBS.org. I have a link above if you want to buy it from amazon. Stash it with your other great 21st century collections of 20th century standards-- by Sting, Rod Stewart, Diana Krall, John Pizzarelli-- and everyone else in the gang that sang Heart of My Heart.

2010 at moneyblows books & music

This product has become our most popular CD in 2010. We began the year selling a few of them but as the band toured, "Dynamic Sound" became a must-have for fans of Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings. Our holdings have been expanded to include some great records coveted by audiophiles: the Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab (MFSL) reissues and jazz' famed Mosaic Box Sets. We stopped selling books from the back of Harlan Wolfe's Record Shop in Conway, ending our first experiment in "bricks and mortar" sales. We've absorbed quite a few book and record collections this year, resulting in as much as 1/3 turnover of our entire stock. By any measure (month vs. month, year over year) 2010 has been a record year at moneyblows books & music. It's exciting that the new electronic book readers are steering millions of eyeballs to the joys of reading words on a page. When you think of how many people regard a "page" as starting with the word "home" or "web"--- or is something you find in a magazine or school text--- quite a few will be surprised that pages come in paper books, too. And, most books are easily obtained for a penny (ours are more expensive) so we expect 2011 to continue the trend of increased book sales. Similar to most small businesses, we are always looking for ways to advertise efficiently. In 2010 we advertised modestly using Google ads and Facebook ads. Nearly as we can tell, no customers came from the ads. As usual, customers find us either because they already know where to go, or they are intrepid enough to wade the morass of the Web to find us. Our message of "search moneyblows" still hasn't taken hold. It's a simple message--- type moneyblows into any search engine. It'll be easier than ever to shop with us in the coming year. Which starts tomorrow. So for now I'll sign off with the time honored greeting, "Happy Old Year."

Mosaic box sets-- great gifts for jazz vinyl lovers!

The Complete Pacific Jazz Live recordings of The Chet Baker Quartet with Russ Freeman
The Complete Blue Note and Pacific Jazz Recordings of Clifford Brown
The Complete Blue Note Recordings of The Tina Brooks Quintets
The Complete Blue Note recordings of Herbie Nichols
The Complete Blue Note Recordings of Thelonious Monk
The Complete Verve Recordings of the Buddy De Franco Quartet/quint…

Serving dog and mammon

I link to the current Ben Ratliff review of a Coleman Hawkins performance which, apparently, sheds new light on the classic "Body and Soul" that's one of Hawk's best known solos. You can look around and see the latest jazz news about William Savory's collection of disc transcriptions. Had they been released in his lifetime, or close to the time of recording (late 1930s and onward) they would be called "bootlegs" like famous recordings by Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, etc.--- recorded performances by fans.
The big news is that the Savory survivors have sold the discs to the National Jazz Museum in Harlem. Even bigger is the news that they'll probably digitize and release them commercially, after giving lip service to the various ownership conundrums. The reportage on this topic, at least in the New York Times, includes some strangely annotated excerpts on their website, and a boatload of reader comments predictably bemoaning the belated and perhaps restricted access to this material.
Ben Ratliff, a real asset to the NYTimes for the jazz world, clarifies that "Nobody is yet in any position to assess when, how or what portion of the recordings can be commercially released." Since the National Jazz Museum owns the discs, which can be easily digitized, the Times is echoing Gene Kelly "Gotta Dance!" This newspaper which clearly supports "work for hire" transparently got Ratliff to write a legal disclaimer into his review. The first article, reporting the acquisition, suggests that ownership of the aircheck music on the discs is unclear. It's worth reading the comments to both articles because the ephemera aspect of a jazz solo is well displayed. And so is another chapter in the evolution of copyright practice, using old jazz as a foil.

Mitch Miller, oboe player, music exec, host of "Sing Along With Mitch"

Heard of Mitch Miller's passing. Junkers, scouts and collectors know he lives on. His cartoonish visage, on the cover of "Sing Along With Mitch" albums, haunts every thrift store in America where vinyl records can be found. Astute collectors can even find the oboe concerti he recorded with great orchestras. Jazz fans can hear him on the Charlie Parker with strings recordings. Just put a name together with Mitch Miller and there is a story. Mitch Miller/Frank Sinatra. Mitch Miller/Rosemary Clooney. Mitch Miller/Clive Davis. Mitch Miller/Goddard Lieberson. Mitch Miller/Guy Mitchell. Mitch Miller/Columbia Records.
In our store at moneyblows.com, his legacy abounds in many wonderful Columbia Records. Mitch Miller made a huge impression, as artist and repertoire chief at Columbia (later, CBS Records) for most of the 1950s til the mid 1960s. Significantly, his employer invented the long playing record. For 3 years, he had a television show version of "Sing Along With Mitch."
He had a career any oboe player might envy. As I listen to his many contributions to popular music, whether it's the keening banjos behind the male choruses of "Sing Along" or the rocking celeste on Rosemary Clooney's hit, "C'mon A My House," I can imagine the sensitive ear of a double reed player in the agonizing quest to make a difficult instrument into a voice-like utterance.
In what I suspect is a more indirect influence, many Columbia Records of Ray Conniff and Percy Faith explore the blends of instruments and wordless vocals which have come back into fashion among some of  today's big band composers.
In the big picture of things, Mitch Miller demonstrated how popular music was created in the corporate environment. It's illustrated in this story from another corporate musical creature at Columbia, Teo Macero. Teo reported to Mitch Miller while creating jazz classics such as "Take Five."
And, while it is quite difficult to gauge the role of artistry in a monolithic corporate environment, there's no mistaking excellence and quality where it appears.
As a baby boomer, born a month after Rosemary Clooney had her breakout hit with Mitch Miller, I had my formative years and ears under the spell of MOR, easy listening music, rife with smooth strings, sparkling tone colors, beautiful voices, songwriting and composing which optimized the America which was an ethnic "melting pot.". By the time Mitch was cajoling everyone to sing along, I like others in my generation were chomping at the bit. Top 40 radio was playing something else. Top 40 radio was advertising freedom from Mitch Miller, who hated rock 'n roll. We may have been rescued by Pat Boone and Marty Robbins, but at least it wasn't our parents' music.

Sentimental and melodic journey to New Britain

I was sitting at my laptop with the Finale music notation software open, composing the solo clarinet piece that was to become “Kaleenka Suite.”
Though I love composing songs, this was going to be an instrumental solo, so I started thinking about things from an instrumental standpoint. That led me to a nice group of three: melodic motion, repetition and arpeggio.

Motion was probably one of the first musical things explored as, in 4th grade, we learned how to finger middle C, D, and E with the left hand on B flat clarinet. Yup, they were each a step apart from each other.
I thought of a song from the same auditorium at Holmes School in New Britain Ct, where the clarinet was taught. At school music assemblies we sang “My Grandfather’s Clock.” I have a great Johnny Cash version on the original vinyl record and listened to it. Yes, it’s a nice melody with motion.

By 1962 or 1963, when this was going on, I was learning more music from radio and 45 rpm records than I was in school. But school was a good venue for me, I could get decent grades, etc., so I paid attention to the music there, too. White Coral Bells. Marching to Pretoria. One was a round. One was a processional. Cool stuff.
But out there in the big world, a melody got me that sticks today, “45 cents for a 3 course meal at McDonald’s.” A commercial to music! They were called “jingles” back then. What did this melody have? It was the one note samba of the commercial world, repeating the same note.
That’s probably why I still remember it today; probably why I don’t understand bebop too well but I love playing “rhythm sax.” I love the honkers who repeat notes for effect. Always have. Repetition, very nice in music when used creatively. Doesn’t hurt a commercial message. Without it there’d be no rap or hip-hop.

Arpeggio, the mainstay of the student clarinet experience. The instrument is engineered for speed but can only play one note at a time (classically speaking), so, on clarinet, chords are outlined in arpeggios. Suddenly I’m mentally in the same auditorium where we learned clarinet, again. This time, the music teacher is teaching us to sing, “Hot tamales, sure are tasty, always made from finest pastry, so delicious and nutritious, you will like them, so buy some now.” It’s been more than forty years and that melody has come to mind frequently. Have never met anyone who knew it if I sang it. Doggone thing is sure memorable, why? The melody is arpeggios.

Facebook, enter stage left. I got my laptop open to the notation program. There’s a browser open too. I’m gonna find the teacher that taught that melody and ask if she remembers where the heck it came from. My memory is so vague, but I think folk music was on the scene at the time, on the radio, along with Motown, rockabilly, Memphis and New York soul, garage bands, etc. They even brought guitars with folk music into the Catholic church, Kumbaya, etc.

Had her name been Mrs. Jones the whole idea would have faded fast. But there was Ms. Nkonoki, right there on Facebook and basically looking the same as I remember her. I messaged her, asking first if she was the strict music teacher at Holmes School in 1963, and then, did she know where that song came from?

Yes she was; she said I remembered accurately that she was strict. She remembered the “Hot Tamales” thing was a countermelody in a song called Tamale Joe. Couldn’t remember much else about it. I went on Google and found the author’s name for Tamale Joe and also that it was a pseudonym. A reference to a possible recording by Peter, Paul and Mary. That was it. No simple internet trace of a melody that sticks in your head, perhaps only because of an arpeggio.
Well, it also had syncopation. We had heard of rhythm outside of school, on the radio and records, but this may have been the first rhythm tune taught in my elementary school memory. I would have to check with Ms. Nkonoki’s predecessor to confirm that. Both of them went to the same Teacher’s College in Danbury, Ct., the only one in the state that specialized in turning out music teachers.
Whether it made any difference that Ms. Nkonoki was the first black teacher; well, it did at the time, but I don’t know that it does now. What makes a difference now is the persistence of a simple melody. If anyone is ever composing, a simple melody will be your best friend. I also like Three Blind Mice a lot.

Ms. Nkonoki is now on the education committee of the New Britain Symphony Orchestra, and when she found out I had gone on with my music education to the master’s degree level anyway, she wondered if I might like to help judge a scholarship competition, which the New Britain Symphony Orchestra has long used to encourage talented music students in New Britain and the surrounding area.

I went down from New Hampshire to New Britain, early on the day of the scholarship judging, to check out the Young People’s Concert of the New Britain Symphony Orchestra, on its home turf at Welte Hall in the old New Britain Teacher’s College, which is now the Central Connecticut State University, New Britain’s crown jewel of education.

Ms. Nkonoki was the emcee. She had a video camera and before I knew it I was helping set up the camera. I remember thinking how strange that was, because I ran the projectors and film strip machines at Holmes School in 1962-63 and here I was in the same role, year 2010, albeit down the street at the old Teacher’s College. She was busy trying to bring order to the crowded auditorium. What a way to start a Wednesday in New Britain Connecticut, to hear the city’s namesake orchestra play to a packed auditorium of fifth graders from all over! In the late 1980s I was author of a popular book teaching children about the instruments of the orchestra, “Big Ears and His Trip To Orchestra Hall.” And, I have had a children’s group perform my songs. Felt right at home.

Most amazing of all, today’s 5th graders know an anthem that first appeared around 1977, The Star Wars theme. Talk about music transcending time. It was the fitting climax to a program that began with Aaron Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man.

So much had changed in my old home town, but the arts seem to survive in events such as this, a labor of love to make sure today’s students get to associate the name of their own home town, with an orchestra that plays with excellence. And with music they might remember for who knows what reason, like I remembered the countermelody to Tamale Joe.

Over at the scholarship competition later, we heard a saxophonist and two vocalists, performing some challenging repertoire in the nave of the magnificent South Church in downtown New Britain. Right out of the gate the performances were excellent. The judges had to consult after scoring individually to arrive at a decision. We were told nothing of the students, but when we agreed on the winner, we later found out the winner had some music prep education over and above regular school. She also had an artist level instrument.

Getting to know the other judges was fun. One of them rehearses his band at a local McDonald’s on Wednesday nights, if I wanted to come down, he said.

McDonald’s? My thought exactly. A band rehearsing at McDonald’s? Well, Sam Kimble was rehearsing and then some, that night, at the same restaurant mentioned in that influential melody, “45 cents for a 3 course meal at McDonald’s.” His band included folks from my home neighborhood, up near the top of Stanley Street, when Country Club Rd. was northmost. The whole neighborhood was cut out of woods and it was magical to us, and Holmes School meant we wouldn’t have to cross Farmington Avenue to go to Slater Road School.

Sam and his band let me sit in on clarinet, my first music played in New Britain since 1966. Bandleader Sam Kimble lays down a groove like nobody else, reminding me of my favorite past music experiences in Texas where I spent most of my adult life.

So maybe this is an exercise you can try at home. Think back on a simple melody you first heard in elementary school and figure out where you learned it. Or even make a “pilgrimage” like I sort of did.

Will you spend a day starting with a symphony orchestra concert and ending with a jam session at McDonald’s, all in the same town? I can’t guarantee that unless your town is New Britain.