The death of Lionel Hampton, one of the last of the jazz giants, brought tributes from key jazz figures among the many who owed him their careers.

"He taught me how to groove and how to laugh and how to hang and how to live like a man," said Quincy Jones, the Grammy-winning producer and composer, who was 15 when he first played trumpet with the jazz great's big band. "Heaven will definitely be feeling some backbeat now," Jones said.

In failing health for several years after a series of strokes, the innovative vibraphonist and bandleader was 94 when he died Aug. 31, 2002, in New York City. The cause was complications of old age and a recent heart attack, his manager, Phil Leshin, said.

"He was really a towering jazz figure," said saxophonist Sonny Rollins, who played with Hampton in the 1950s. "He really personified the spirit of jazz because he had so much joy about his playing."

Among other leading names in jazz who were schooled by "the vibes president of the United States" were Cat Anderson, Milt Buckner, Terence Blanchard, Clifford Brown, Arnett Cobb, Betty Carter, Dexter Gordon, Johnny Griffin, Illinois Jacquet, Charles Mingus, Wes Montgomery and Dinah Washington.

The backbeat was the thing that got the teenage Hampton noticed when he started playing drums with Les Hite's band at Frank Sebastian's Cotton Club, the mob-linked nitery across from MGM in Culver City. A native of Louisville, Ky. He was raised in Chicago by his grandparents and his uncle, an affluent bootlegger who was Bessie Smith's boyfriend. They sent him to Los Angeles to study music at the University of Southern California.

"I had a different style on drums. I was already playing with a heavy afterbeat, getting that rock and roll beat that wouldn't even get popular until the 1950s. I wanted people to dance, to have a good time and clap their hands, and they would do it to my drumming," Hampton wrote in his 1989 autobiography, "Hamp."

The Hite band backed Louis Armstrong when he worked the club in 1930, and Hampton was playing drums at a recording session for the King of Swing when Armstrong noticed a set of vibes in the corner of the studio. "Louis said, 'Do you know how to play it?' " Hampton recalled. Hamp could only play xylophone, but he rendered one of Pops' solos note-for-note on the curious electrified instrument, flooring the trumpeter. Then he backed Armstrong on "Memories of You," and the vibraharp was his for life.

Hampton had met Gladys Neal, a young woman who worked at MGM, in 1929. "She made outfits for the big stars like Joan Crawford and Marion Davies," Hampton said. She became his steady companion, then his business manager and later his wife. She kept him on an allowance and handled his business affairs so astutely with investments in real estate that he became a wealthy man.

Hampton was soon touring with his own band on the West Coast, then settled in at the Paradise Nightclub in Los Angeles, where Benny Goodman heard him play in August 1936. Within days, Hampton was recording with Goodman, pianist Teddy Wilson and drummer Gene Krupa at a Los Angeles studio. It was the first Benny Goodman quartet recording; by the time Hampton joined the others in New York, the record was selling briskly across the country.

Hampton started his "four gorgeous years with Benny" at the Pennsylvania Hotel in New York. The trailblazing quartet broke racial barriers that had largely kept black musicians from performing with whites in public.

When the quartet broke up in 1940, Hampton went out on his own and formed a big band with the assistance of alto saxophonist Marshal Royal. It brought the crowds to their feet, clapping along to ecstatic solos by Cobb, Gordon or Jacquet, shouting brasses with Cat Anderson or Al Killian screaming on top and America's first Big Beat propelling it all.

The band's 1942 recording of "Flyin' Home," which Hamp wrote while with the Goodman sextet in 1937, became one of the most influential recordings in American music history. Jacquet blew the bar-walking, roof-raising tenor sax solo on it that set the stage for rock 'n' roll. Hamp played the chart and that solo, rearranged for a saxophone section, hundreds of times a year for the rest of his career.

For the next several decades Hampton was one of jazz's best-known figures, touring internationally, recording voluminously and playing the major festivals, including the Playboy Jazz Festival, as a headliner and a guest artist.

He performed at the White House for presidents Truman, Eisenhower, Johnson, Nixon, Carter, Reagan and Bush.

Hampton received numerous awards during his long career, including a jazz masters fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts in 1988 and the Kennedy Center Lifetime Achievement Award in 1992.

In 1987, the music school of the University of Idaho was named in his honor. It annually presents a four-day Lionel Hampton jazz festival at its campus in Moscow, Idaho.

 

Jammin' with Bill

Playing in a jam session at the White House is no new thing for a guy like Lionel Hampton, who's been buds with every president since "the Kansas City president,'' Harry Truman.


So after he heard President Clinton jamming with tenorman Illinois Jacquet at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. this spring, Hamp knew just what to tell the white sax boy from Hope. "I said if he ever wanted to give up the president business he could get with my band,'' Hamp cackled.

The Clintons had Hampton over to a concert and reception at the White House the other night. But it's not likely the Arkansas Traveler will be able to break away in time to join the ensemble that the 85-year-old Hampton is about to bring into New York's Blue Note. His latest ensemble band will play the club for a week starting Sept. 28, 1993, then go out, with or without Clinton, for a U.S. tour in November.

"It's a helluva big band,'' says Hamp. "I got a guy, Wally Gaytor, on drums, from out in Brooklyn, he's fantastic. I got four outstanding trumpet players, Barry Reese is one, and Tony Barrero from Cuba. All of 'em play solos. I got some fantastic boys in this band.''

"You're gonna hear some dynamite -- because that's the one thing I know how to do is swing.''

Nobody who heard him on his European tour that concluded last month has any doubt on that score, despite the fact that he suffered a severe stroke two years ago.

Completely recovered and fronting a group called the Golden Men of Jazz, Hamp played to SRO houses one July in Portugal, the Netherlands, France, Germany and Italy. Then he went back in August to play France again, plus Switzerland, Wales and Belgium.

"We broke records everywhere we went. I got this all-star band with Clark Terry, Al Gray and Sweets Edison. And 'there I go, there I go, there I go' James Moody. Also the guy that wrote 'I Remember Clifford,' Benny Golson. Grady Tate on drums, Arvell Shaw on bass, Junior Mance on piano.'' Hamp will rejoin this combo on the S.S. Norway jazz cruise in October.

The Golden Men, all of them silver-haired, stuck close to the pond and gave Hamp no trouble, he said, attendance-wise or punctuality-wise.

"The crowds loved us, we couldn't stop playing,'' Hamp said. "I would sing, 'It's a Wonderful World' at the end, and we had to do four or five encores.''

After the tours wrap, the Hampton forces will concentrate on plans for a television special, now in the early stages of development.

This could be a killer project. If all Hamp did was call the roll of the alumni of the band and the guys he's recorded with, it would be pretty much a complete history of jazz.

An astounding number of the jazz pantheon have been in one or more of Hamp's bands: Jacquet, Dizzy Gillespie, Quincy Jones, Joe Wilder, Joe Newman, Wendell Cully, Snooky Young, Nat Adderley, Ernie and Marshall Royal, Charlie Mingus, Dexter Gordon, Johnny Griffin, Arnette Cobb, to name but a few of those who learned to play "Hey, Ba-Ba-Re-Bop.''

And glancing through his discography in his autobiography "Hamp'' is a cook's tour of a half-century of great recorded music, studded with bandmates like Benny Goodman, Gene Krupa, Teddy Wilson, Benny Carter, Coleman Hawkins, Stan Getz, Charlie Christian, Zutty Singleton, Jerome Richardson, James P. Johnson, Chick Corea, Miles Davis, Bing Crosby and -- remember this one? -- Sugar Chile Robinson.

Not to mention Hampton's vocal discoveries, such as Dinah Washington, Aretha Franklin, Joe Williams and Betty Carter.

"Illinois Jacquet I picked up when he was a kid,'' Hamp liked to recall 50 years later, remembering how he formed his first big band. "He was playing with a little junior band out in Los Angeles, playing alto saxophone. I say, 'You play tenor, man, because they need good tenor players. Herschel Evans was a great tenor sax player and he's gone,' I told him, 'and Chu Berry is gone.' So I got him on tenor.

"And some guy told me about hearing some kid named Dexter Gordon playing with a high school band out in Los Angeles. He came out to audition with me and he didn't have no horn at all, he had a clarinet wrapped up in a newspaper.

"And he played and I said, 'Oh man, this is a good style you play on clarinet, but you should play tenor,' and I talked to my wife and we got him a tenor.''

The wife referred to was the former Gladys Riddle, whom he met in 1929 when she was a seamstress for the movie studios. Back in those days, she used to baby him by slipping him Douglas Fairbanks' old silk underwear. Later, she made sure he held onto his money by never letting him see any cash, and although she died in 1971, Hamp today is holding property in places like Las Vegas and Atlanta, still flush -- and still swinging. It's the one thing he knows how to do.


 
 

 

 

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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