'We're really blessed'



Billy Higgins (1936-2001) with protege Henry Butler in the 1980s.

IT WAS GETTING on toward midnight when a couple more of the regulars arrived at Billy Higgins' Monday night drum workshop, carrying their big conga drums dangling from straps over the shoulder, like Santa's backpacks.

Every jazz fan in the world knows Billy Higgins from reading record label credits if nothing else. He's played drums behind the biggest stars in music, helping them glitter for half a century.

But on this soft spring night in 1998, the starmaker was with his homeys in Leimert Park, where he lived on the south side of Los Angeles, lending a little glitter to the people who could use it the most.

"You always come in last," he said to one of the guys, who was wearing a conical Tibetan hat over his dreadlocks. "You must have a job."

THAT BROUGHT LAUGHTER from the roomful of drummers and singers and other amateur players -- children, women, young men and old -- each of whom had enjoyed a good long moment in the spotlight since  the evening at the World Stage Performance Space began at 7 p.m.

Higgins had made sure of that, cajoling and pleading and praising in the most persuasive way. He knows how to get people to shine, you could see that.

 "No use coming all this way if you don't play," he said to this new pair, just as two or three more came in. "Come on up here."

Higgins nodded to a youngster in the front row, who raced upstairs and brought back Higgins' talking drum that he got in Africa, and a half-dozen drummers were off for another hour of deep and soulful rhythmic discourse, drums only, playing till everyone except Higgins was exhausted and replete.

"YOU GAVE those guys a lot," someone said to him later.

"Oh, yeah, well, you know, everybody can come away with something," Higgins said. "Very seldom is that able to happen, you know, and it's a chance to make a bright moment. That's what we're supposed to be about, I think.

"It's a place where young people can feel comfortable and learn. And older people too, we got kids from 4 to 80. That way, everybody can learn from everybody.

"I enjoy seeing young people being interested in what they can do," said Higgins, who has six children and three great-grandchildren. "That's the most important thing to me. Not just younger people but older people, too, because the drums are that kind of instrument where people are not intimidated. You know the drum was the first instrument besides the human voice."

WORKING WITH the poet Kamau Daaood, and with the sponsorship of actress Marla Gibbs, Higgins began to develop the World Stage eight years ago. In addition to the Monday night drum workshop, there's a writers' workshop on Tuesday, a poet's workshop on Wednesday, a jam session on Thursday and a concert series on Friday and Saturday.

"It's beautiful," Higgins said. "There's no place like that in Los Angeles. And there really is no place like that in New York where they have that much going on. So we're really blessed to have that."

Higgins behind the drums at the World Stage.

BILLY HIGGINS was one of the most versatile and omnipresent drummers in jazz, certainly the one with the best smile. He was 64 when he died on May 3, 2001, at Daniel Freeman hospital in Inglewood, Calif., after a long period of liver illness.

His intuitive genius and infectious buoyant drive brought him gigs for 50 years with the greatest players in the game. These included Thelonious Monk, John Coltrane, Sonny Rollins, Milt Jackson, Dexter Gordon, Jimmy Heath, Harold Land, Hank Mobley, Steve Lacy, Joshua Redman, Jackie McLean, Art Pepper, Clifford Jordan, Joe Henderson, Cedar Walton, Cecil Taylor, Herbie Hancock, Sun Ra, Donald Byrd, Lee Morgan, J.J. Johnson, Slide Hampton and Pat Metheny.

A Los Angeles native, Higgins took up the drums at the age of 5. He played as a teenager with such R&B stalwarts as Amos Milburn and Bo Diddley. He also backed the intimidating Sister Rosetta Tharpe, the blues singer who sang "Baibee!" on the Ray Charles record of "Nighttime is the Right
Time."

Soon he was working with the bassist Red Mitchell, and he co-leading a pioneering group called the Jazz Messiahs with Don Cherry and James Clay, the Texas tenorman who was a contemporary of Dexter Gordon and Wardell Gray.

HIGGINS WAS A CHARTER MEMBER of the Ornette Coleman quartet in its garage days, and that was him on drums during in the legendary New York debut of Coleman's radical group in 1959 at the Five Spot. He backed Cherry and Charlie Haden on the momentous Coleman "Free Jazz" album for Atlantic.

After 15 busy years in New York, he returned to Los Angeles in the late 1970s where he lived with his six children, still fulfilling his bulging engagement calendar. He traveled the world for jazz festivals in Europe and Japan.

In the late 1980s, he and the poet Kamau Daaood opened a storefront in Leimert Park as the World Stage, a performance enclave where Higgins presided over heavily attended Monday night drum workshops like the one written about above.

His friends in the jazz world, such as Ron Carter, Kenny Barron, Barry Harris and Geri Allen, donated their services for weekend concerts and workshops in the 50-seat auditorium, and he helped develop such groups as the B Sharp Jazz Quartet and Black/Note.

Higgins was a member of the jazz faculty at UCLA and was awarded a Jazz Master's Fellowship in 1997 by the National Endowment for the Arts.

 

 

Text and photographs by Tony Gieske

Tony Gieske has been reviewing jazz and occasionally playing it on his cornet since the 1950s, when he wrote the jazz column for the Washington Post. Now he works for the Hollywood Reporter, where his reviews and photographs, such as these, appear regularly.The photographs are available as prints or as scans by sending an e-mail to grnskl@earthlink.net. More jazz stuff can be seen by clicking on the links beneath.

 

 

Jumpin' in the Boneyard: The prelude

The night they remembered Woody

Woody remembers Woody

Woodchoppin' for the old Woodchopper

The blue flame goes out

Riding with the boys on the Count Basie bus

A mockingbird sang on Citrus Place: Annie Ross

Melissa Manchester's voice does everything she asks

Earthy delights with the Bricktop of the blues

Uan Rasey: Play it reverently

Young Jazz Giants: Newsy and juicy

A taste of the new Brownie, Maurice Brown

Hank Jones: Not a minute to waste

Horace Silver becomes more spiritual

Take your time, Sister D

Gerald Wilson reveals the secret of bebop

Teddy Edwards: 'You ain't done nothing but play great.'

No sun, no day: Sun Ra

Tiny Grimes: 'I never could afford the other two strings'

'Ain't that a bitch!' said Jay McShann

Woof of melancholy, warp of jazz

'Pop, can you play this thing?' Stacy asks Jimmy Rowles

Hamp's last stand

Hamp's last stand: The outtakes

Final flight

'I never wanted a band,' said Marshal Royal

Twinkly but unblinking: Lorraine Feather

Pronounced john-gear-off

Miss Peggy Lee, 1920-2002

The real Count

'A little trumpet player from down in Dayton named Snooky'

Sweets Edison: Death of a Mainstay

Hubbard in the hood

With abandon but chops: DDB

Dwight Trible, kick-ass holy man 

'I'm Roy Haynes, Dammit!'

High kicks and belly blows: James Carter

The accursed Coltrane

Jazz Fusion Is Not Dead: Billy Cobham

Brookmeyer: Soft spoken but hard core.

Snakes in the Clover: Steve Lacy

Sam Rivers: Like Bartok rocking out

Les Paul, Solid Body

Billy Higgins: We're really blessed

A night full of deep things: Charles Lloyd

Death of the horse whisperer

Talking about Chet Baker

A visit from the Poinciana Kid

 Adieu to Art, a Euro-gentleman of jazz

Blues for Bags, 1923-99

A night with the Florence nightingales 

 An ancient afternoon with Dizzy

Bill Berry's Own Private Ellington

A Bowl full of bebop

A blessing blows into town

Blowing with Buckaroo Banzai

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