Chris Anderson Remembered

I want to use this space in the coming months to reflect on musicians I've known and loved.

I start with Chris, since we are both Romantics, and he influenced---and continues to influence---my thinking on ballads and especially rubato playing. When he had space he was unequaled. He was also one of the warmest, most genuine, and most honest people I've known.

Chris was a diminuitive man with a pixie smile and elfin sense of humor to match. When punchlines drew near his voice would get ever higher pitched, until the top of his range was reached. Then he'd squeal with delight.


Chris had plenty of reasons not to laugh: blindness, a clubfoot that required walking on crutches, and bones so brittle that broken limbs left him hospitalized for too much of his life. But he was tough, got around nationwide, did his gigs, was loved by his friends. Barry Harris----himself pretty snappy as a jazz pianist---was perhaps Chris's biggest fan, and featured Chris on almost all of his once-yearly concert events. There would be Chris in a white suit, surrounded by a sea of faces in Barry's choir---playing A Time For Love. It must be mentioned that his friend the NY-based actor Al Sutton did a wonderful job of looking after Chris.

And that elfin humor was put to good use acknowledging with dark but funny resignation his physical and emotional states. Once, interviewed on WNYC, the host---after listening to a brooding piece of solo piano---told Chris in earnest:

'Chris, you bring out the blue in me'.

'Well, why should you feel better than I do?'

Another time he begged off a gig I offered him because he wasn't feeling up to it. To cheer him up I started to tell him that he was a survivor, but---sensing an opportunity for gallows humor---he interrupted with:

'You're not gonna tell me how godamn strong my spirit is, are you?'

I could see him wincing and rolling his eyes---over the phone I could see it......

To me the essence of Chris's artistry---and uniqueness---was his solo rubato style. He played with groups his whole career, including traditional piano trios, but had to edit his tremendously different harmonic approach so bass players could keep up. But solo rubato was Chris's playground. He knew the tunes he picked---every nuance of the original melody, lyric, composer's intent---so intimately it gave him license to go on some wild excursions. Those excursions featured long spaces in unexpected places, chord changes that were pure Chris Anderson yet rooted in the familiar, a light, almost fragile touch, a blues sensibility that found its way into ballads---and worked. What really made him unique, even among pianists, was that he improvised orchestrally. Most postwar jazz pianists dealt with right hand single-line approaches. Bud Powell was as intimidating an influence on pianists, it would seem, as Charlie Parker on alto players. Even Bill Evans, another great harmonic player, dealt with this in his solos, and worked the chordal soloing in as he went. His arranging, which was brilliant, took place in his rendition set-ups--also often rubato. It's been said that sitting in movie houses all day as a sightless child was what caused Chris to memorize scores. He always said he was fascinated by arrangers like Nelson Riddle. Chris's intros could---and should---be scored. They were unique, perfect rendition set-ups, and could be heartbreaking on ballads.

I recommend Solo Ballads 1 and 2 (AlSut) as primers. Love Locked Out (Mapleshade) gives us the   opportunity to hear Chris sing---in a voice that sounds like to me a cross between early Bob Dylan and the delta blues singers. Also, to hear Chris in a wonderful group led by altoist Frank Strozier, try Strozier's Long Night (originally on Jazzland). Chris's chorded solo on The Need for Love is primo Chris---and pure beauty.

Opening Remarks

My name is Joel Fass. I am a guitarist-composer based in NYC. I was born 57 years ago in Brooklyn, NY and still call NY my home.

To read more about my vitae and hear many performances go to www.myspace.com/joelfass or www.smallsjazzclub.com (go to 'audio archive', select the guitar icon and click on my name enter my name in the search box to hear group and solo shows dating back to 2009).

Now that I've gotten that over with I pledge not to use this space as a vanity blog, but a way to reach out to people and share views. Music, prose, and quotidian interaction are all opportunities for humans to communicate.

The main thing irking me about our current world (particularly in my hometown of NYC---though I am told it is a worldwide phenomenon): the obsession of people with gadgets they seem to prefer engaging with to actual communication with others. In my view it seems to point to a dissatisfaction with the external world. I saw a fellow on the train yesterday that had the whole 9: headphones, iphone, kindle. He couldn't decide, seemingly, which to fixate on first. I worry about young people particularly, and that they will end up bereft of social skills having inhabited as their main social lodging a cocoon-like cyber-world. Remember the song It's Only a Paper Moon?..............

As a musician I am keenly aware of the need for social interaction in our society. I would go so far as to call this a near-primal need. I played my first gig at age 14 at a local temple. I have seen many people come together and be lifted out of dismal moods in my many years playing before the public. I don't put much faith in politics or religion as it is commonly known. I only know that music, friendship, and a belief in human potential work for me.

Sadly, the self-absorption/disconnect syndrome I generally lament has permeated much of the music world, including that of jazz. Long solos often without much purpose or engagement with either the audience or the composition being played---well, I think there's been enough of that. And by no means does that apply to everyone playing, but IMO it does often enough to be disconcerting. I think the greatest musical artists are humanitarians and communicators in their art---not to mention ingenious self-editors---as exemplified by Louis Armstrong, Lester Young, Charlie Parker, Stan Getz--- or in pop music Stevie Wonder, Donnie Hathaway, the Beatles---and I should include here the world-class guitarist-songwriter-singer Toninho Horta. I strive toward this in my own work even as I grow and mature creatively. The two are mutually supportive IMO.

Along with communication and warmth I champion purpose in musical art. Another way to put it might be: don't waste peoples' time. 'Woodshed' and think things through enough in advance of performance that there is clarity along with spontaneity. Audiences are not mind-readers and should not be asked to be. In this connection I believe composition to be a real pathway to meaning and purpose in improvising.

Finally, I would like to mention some of my peers,---and betters---many not all that well-known outside of music circles---whose work I think should be heard live or at least on recording (only a partial list): Guitar: Saul (Zebulon) Rubin; Joe Cohn; Ed Cherry; James Chirillo; Michael Howell; Ray Macchiarolla; Sean Harkness. Piano: Burt Eckoff; Johnny O'Neal (also a smooth singer and good entertainer), Tardo Hammer, Ray Gallon. Bass: Tim Givens, Sean Smith (also a fine songwriter); Ari Roland. Trombone: Britta Langschoen; Mike Fahn (valve trombone). Trumpet: John Eckert; Kerry McKellan; Don Hahn. Composition/Arranging: Glenn Mills; Frank Griffith; Donald Brown; Sarah Jane Cion; Joel Forrester; Neil Kirkwood . Songwriters: Ellen Weiss; Bruce Gordon; Barrett Zinn. (Special mention should be made of the late Jimmy Norman. We co-wrote one song and I know what he could do). Vocalists: Shawnn Monteiro, Deanna Kirk.

Hope this was a decent opening chorus. More to come when I have something to say......