ill Berry was fuming and making his mustache bristle, pretending he was sore about having to play a jazz concert  in the Douglas Fairbanks Gardens of the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. "What the hell are we doing there?" the former Woody Herman cornet soloist growled. "I have no goddamn idea," said Polly Podewell, the former Herman singer who was taking part with Berry and some others in an informal pre-concert wake for the innovative bandleader, who died in 1987.

She was bugged because the producers of the alumni concert on Oct. 19, 2002, had only scheduled her to sing one number. Rebecca Parris was going to get three songs, Podewell said, though she was never in the band, which was still thundering along after more than 60 years, then under the direction of Frank Tiberi.

t was going to be a big event, too, with a personal appearance by Woody's old clarinet rival, Artie Shaw; a video message from Tony Bennett; and an army of Herman alumni, many them familiar Hollywood studio names like Alan Broadbent, Pete Candoli, Bill Perkins, Jack Nimitz, Andy McGee, Joe LaBarbera and Terry Gibbs.

They'd be jamming at the Babylon Court in the Hollywood & Highland complex from 6 p.m. till midnight on the Friday before the concert. Saturday afternoon at 1 p.m., Jack Sheldon was to sing songs Herman sang. USC, Cal State Northridge and Cal State Fullerton were to field jazz orchestras playing Herman charts at 1 p.m. Sunday.

But that lineup cut no ice with the 71-year-old Berry, who  played with Duke Ellington, Count Basie, Lionel Hampton, Dizzy Gillespie and Lester Lanin, among many others.

Jake Hanna and Bill Berry tell how it was.

mean, are we trying to sell plots?" he demanded, pretending that he didn't know the proceeds would benefit Jazz America, Buddy Collette's outfit, and the International Association of Jazz Educators, whose past president, Herb Wong, was slated to speak.

"Cemetery lots! We're trying to sell cemetery lots!" said Podewell, laughing bitterly. It was she who nursed Herman in 1987 as he lay dying in the home he had bought from Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall back when jazz was big.

"Well, I've got a title for this thing," said Jake Hanna, the redoubtable drummer who Berry got on the Herman band back in the 1960s when it stopped being the Third Herd and became the Unherd while rock was contracted. "Dig you now, plant you later!"

"We can't afford to be buried there," said Betty Berry, Bill's wife, who spent their wedding night in Herman's hotel room with young Sheldon while the groom played Madison Square Garden with the Herd.

That was one of the Great Band Stories she was trying to tell, if she could get it in edgewise among the ones being recalled by Hanna — a raconteur of mighty scale — Berry, Podewell and Jake's wife, Denisa.



ut Jake wanted to talk about Woody's movie career. This involved a half-dozen films and a George Pal Puppetoon called "The Woodchoppers," in which he provided the music for a clarinet that had little arms and legs . And then there was "Wintertime," in which Woody played himself.

"It starred Sonja Henie," Jake said. "Jeesh! And Cuddles! Woody told me this story. They told Vido Musso, the tenor player, and Mickey Folus or somebody, 'Cross your hands like this and make a seat,' and Cuddles — you remember S.Z. Sakall, who weighed 300 or 400 pounds — would sit in it and they would skate him across the ice.

"Vido says, 'I can't skate,' and they said, 'Don't worry, we'll have a guy behind and push you, and the camera will be right behind you.' So Vido gets out there and, oh, jeez, boom! He hits the ice and they flatten Cuddles and almost broke the ice when he hit. Jeesh!"

ell, wait a minute," Berry said after the laughs stopped, "why would Woody Herman be picked, of all people, to sell cemetery lots?"

"Because that's where Woody is buried," someone said. Berry had to know that, of course, and he may even have been aware that a new monument to Herman on the cemetery grounds was being dedicated at 3 p.m. the next day..

"I dunno," Berry grumbled. "There's a lot of other dead people they could have picked."

 

 

 

 

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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