Along with all the lively chats I had with Guaraldi's colleagues and former sidemen, while working on my book — definitely the high point of the research process — additional excitement came from the discovery of fresh examples of the pianist's recorded output. Such albums came in two flavors: Either they were new to me — such as Woody's Herman's Anglo-American Herd, a way-obscure British LP on the Jazz Groove label, and the only known recording of the 1959 UK tour that included Guaraldi — or they were just plain new, as with Concord's The Best of Cal Tjader: Live at the Monterey Jazz Festival 1958-1980, which came out in 2008, when I was up to my eyeballs in notes, transcripts, photocopies of old newspapers, and all sorts of other ephemera. The latter finally allowed me to hear the exciting late-night set by Tjader's combo at the debut Monterey Jazz Fest, which did much to raise Guaraldi's profile as a ferocious pianist.
I know of other recordings that haven't yet seen the light of day; somewhere, the Fantasy/Concord vaults must contain the entire Brew Moore/Tjader septet performance that was recorded live at UC Berkeley on August 28, 1955. Thus far, only two isolated tracks have been released on two different Brew Moore albums ... talk about frustrating!
Meanwhile, Santa Claus brought Guaraldi fans a lovely present on December 11: The Cal Tjader Quintet: Live at Club Macumba, which presents two mostly up-tempo sets recorded at that San Francisco club in late 1956. The album has been released on the Acrobat Jazz label, and is readily available at Amazon and the usual outlets. The precise dates are unknown; Tjader's quintet was booked September 3-16 and then again October 2-28, so it's possible one set was recorded during the September run, while the second came in October. Or some other combination therein.
The original tapes are part of what is known as the Ackerman Collection, an archive of jazz recordings made during the 1950s and '60s, and assembled by broadcaster Ken Ackerman, beloved as the voice of the "Music Till Dawn" show on KCBS. As sometimes happens with such things, the collection was stored away and then mostly forgotten, until being "rescued" by San Francisco Traditional Jazz Federation members William Carter and Dave Radlauer. They, in turn, donated everything to Stanford University's Archive of Recorded Sound in November 2007. Cataloguing and restoration have allowed bits to be released commercially; this double-CD set is one such example. You can read more about the collection here; I note, with interest, that the listings include a KNBC radio broadcast of a set by the house band at the popular San Francisco restaurant Sabella's. That unit was fronted by Joe Marcellino, one of Guaraldi's two musical uncles.
So, all right already, you're thinking; how's the music?
During the Guaraldi trio's lengthy 1955 run as the house band at San Francisco's hungry i -- as discussed in Chapter 3 of my book -- the combo was approached one day by Helen Noga, who with her husband John owned two other jazz clubs in the city: the Blackhawk and the Downbeat.
Helen Noga wanted a favor, as Guaraldi bassist Dean Reilly recounts, in my book. She had discovered a young, talented singer, and wanted Guaraldi's trio to back him for an audition tape. The trio members agreed -- guitarist Eddie Duran being the third member -- and spent an afternoon at the Blackhawk, laying down the tracks.
"The tapes were sent to Columbia Records," Reilly concludes, "and it wasn't long before most everyone knew the name of that 19-year-old singer: Johnny Mathis."
Drummer Al Torre, who worked alongside Guaraldi later that decade, when both were members of Cal Tjader's Quintet, just sent me a note, having reached that part of the book. I'll let him take over:
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I'm about halfway through your book, and am really impressed with the work you have done. You've definitely captured Vince Guaraldi's personality, and I'm learning a lot of things about him that I didn't know.
On page 41, you describe Helen Noga introducing Vince and company to Johnny Mathis and they, in turn, producing an audition tape of Mathis' songs for Helen to take to New York. At that time, I was a member of the Virgil Gonsalves sextet: Clyde Pound, piano; Ed Coleman, bass; Mike Downs, trumpet; Danny Patiris, tenor sax; Gonsalves, baritone sax; and me on drums. We were playing the Blackhawk, and Mathis used to sit in with us. Helen asked us to do a demo tape for him, so Clyde, Ed and I spent an afternoon at the Blackhawk, recording Johnny's material.
Knowing Helen and her aggressiveness, it's understandable that she would have had two different bands record for Johnny. This is the first that I've heard of Vince's involvement. At one point, while on the Cal Tjader band, we crossed paths with Mathis, but neither Vince nor I ever mentioned those tapes.
After Cal Tjader disbanded the group in the spring of 1958, I got a call from Mathis' manager to go on the road with them. I declined, because of my recent marriage and the fact that I was enrolled in college, working on my second career in engineering, before joining IBM in December 1958. Looking back and seeing the state of the jazz scene today, I made the right decision.
I love your book, and will try to get everyone I know to purchase a copy.
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Needless to say, an endorsement from Al means the world to me ... and I got a new anecdote to add to this blog, in the bargain!
