Below YOU SEE Berry in front of the group of strong personalities he gathered out in the Valley. He's leading them through Duke Ellington's "Cottontail," the granddaddy of all the lickity-split show stoppers that ever brought the fans cheering around the bandstand. Berry was a charter member of that group of jazzmen who came to Los Angeles in the 1970s, all stalwarts of the road band era. They were veterans of the Count Basie, Stan Kenton, Woody Herman, Buddy Rich and Maynard Ferguson groups, or even, like Berry, Duke  Ellington's band. 

 They were out there by the score, golfing by day, gigging in the studios by afternoon, and slipping along Ventura Boulevard at night in their Porsches and Benzes, picking up a little bread toward the house payments: They were the fabled fast guys from the studios.

Cornetist Berry's 17-piece group, which he calls The L.A. Band, is one of a dozen or so that sprang up in the 1970s and 1980s, led by such players as Don Menza, who was with Rich; saxophonist Bill Holman, out of Kenton's band; drummer Frankie Capp of the Harry James orchestra and pianist Nat Pierce, a body double for Count Basie on many a record date and night club engagement.

Like Berry, many are veterans of long ago television studio bands -- Berry came west with the Merv Griffin band, as did another big band leader, Jack Sheldon. Others were with the late lamented "Tonight Show" band.

PUTTING THE WIND in the sails of "Cottontail" on many a night in those days would be Conte Candoli, out of the Tonight Show band, and his brother Pete, who played lead in the  Tommy Dorsey band. Pete later dressed up in a Superman costume to blow screech on "Superman with a Horn" with the groundbreaking Woody Herman First Herd. Conte, one of the slickest of the beboppers, was in one of Kenton's "Artistry in Jazz" groups, the Neophonic Orchestra. "Sure, a lot of the guys are grandfathers," Berry said at the time. "I think Conte and Pete both are." But one thing it did for you, rolling from one Great American One-Nighter  to another, especially back in the pre-Interstate days: You developed stamina.

Playing lead alto in the L.A. Band this night was Marshal Royal, 71, the who served as musical director for the Lionel Hampton and Count Basie bands. And everytime he stood up for his solo on Ellington's beautiful "Warm Valley," it brought home the motto that Slide Hyde, the trombonist, shouted out one rousing night at Carmelo's in Sherman Oaks:

"If you ain't 50, you ain't shit!"

BERRY STILL KEEPS a crease in his pants, as though he were in Manhattan. He still plays bop on the cornet, but with a Bix-ish air. He often brought the L.A. Band to the Monterey Jazz Festival, of which he was musical director for many years.

 And he still runs the youth outreach program there.

 "I have the kids at Monte rey, the high school all stars. There are some wonderful high school musicians in this state, and I get the cream of the crop.<

And there are some wonderful kids, just wonderful. One year we had -- from one school in Northern California --- we had six kids, and the school is in a town of 500 people. And out of the whole state, they got six of the chairs out of about 20 chairs. One little town called Aptos.

The festival is a non-profit enterprise that plows back part of its revenue into music education in the state of California. So a host of youngsters have been getting a jazz education -- thanks to the jazz grandfathers of the Valley, like Bill Berry and many of the men who've played in his band, a few of which are shown below during an engagement at Alfonse's. The trumpets from left are Steve Huffstetter, Frank Szabo, Don Rader and Jack Sheldon; the trombones, Buster Cooper, Slide Hyde and George Bohannon; the saxes Jack Kelson, Marshal Royal, Lannie Morgan and Jack Nimitz.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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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