Rough drafts — whether of music, artworks or
written material — generally deserve to be seen only by their creators. After
all, the artist in question wishes to put the best foot forward, and it’s
hardly fair to view warts-and-all preliminary efforts.
(Which is why, just in passing, I had absolutely
no interest in Harper Lee’s Go Set a
Watchman, when released in July 2015. Ample evidence existed, prior to
publication, that it was an early draft of what eventually blossomed into To Kill a Mockingbird ... despite the
efforts of opportunists who insisted, quite falsely, that it was a wholly
different “lost novel.”)
All this notwithstanding, exceptions crop up every
once in awhile; what follows is one of them.
Way back in the day, John Leydecker was one of many
youthful members of the St. Paul’s Church choir, which rehearsed extensively
with Guaraldi and later performed the debut of his Jazz Mass at San Francisco’s
Grace Cathedral, on May 21, 1965. John’s mother Mary was a part-time journalist;
several months after that event, she wrote an informative article about
Guaraldi, the choir and the evolution and presentation of the Mass. Her article
— and numerous photos — were submitted to both The Episcopalian (a monthly church journal published between April
1960 and March 1990) and the Marin Daily
Independent Journal. If the piece appeared in the former, I’ve not yet been
able to track it down; it did, however, get published in the latter on October
23, 1965.
What appeared in the Journal, however, is significantly different than Mary Leydecker’s
original draft: something I’m able to state with certainty, since John kindly
provided a copy of the original typewritten manuscript. It’s much more
laid-back and conversational than the Journal
version, and opens a charming window into those historic events.
Mary Leydecker’s version appears here, for the
first time ever; it’s followed by PDFs of the quite opulent Journal spread (with lots and lots of
photos ... a generous use of space that we simply don’t see in newspapers any
more).
John also shared some additional photos that
you’ll find below, all published for the first time.
Enjoy!
********
BEAUTIFUL, MAN!
By Mary Leydecker
The little jazz musician peered over the grand
piano through a haze of smoke. He was dressed in an old sweater, jeans and
tennis shoes. His mustache and sideburns almost covered the part of his face
not hidden by immense dark glasses. Nearby a bass player leaned on his
instrument, and a drummer grinned as there was a pause in the rehearsal.
However, these three were not in their native
habitat of nightclubs or recording studios, but in a large wood-paneled music
room of a suburban Episcopal church; sharing the room with them were rows and
rows of bright-faced children, who followed intently the instructions of their
choir director, a young man in a sweat shirt with a whistle hanging from his
neck.
This scene was repeated many times this year, as
this group of people of many backgrounds gathered to prepare a “new setting for
the Holy Communion.” The product of their labors has been recorded and is now a
nationwide success under the label Vince
Guaraldi at Grace Cathedral.
The story of how this unusual musical undertaking
came into being goes back many months. As Grace Cathedral in San Francisco was
nearing completion of its building program, a committee was appointed to mark
the occasion with a series of special events. The Rev. Charles Gompertz, a
young priest who was at that time curate of a suburban parish, was one of the
members. When another committee member suggested a “holy hootenanny” for the
young people of the diocese, Father Gompertz presented a different idea.
Guaraldi's good friend and champion Charles "Chuck" Gompertz died October 2, at the generous age of 83. Vince's fans know Gompertz as the Episcopal priest who chose the pianist to compose and perform the Jazz Mass that honored the completion of San Francisco's Grace Cathedral in the spring of 1965. I knew Chuck from the many generous interviews he gave during the research phase of my biography of Vince, and from the warm and friendly correspondence — and occasional visits — that resulted from our initial chats, and continued until he died.
