Dizzy Gillespie and Me...

His playing showcases the importance of intelligence. His rhythmic sophistication was unequaled. He was a master of harmony and fascinated with studying it. He took in all the music of his youth, from Roy Eldridge to Duke Ellington, and developed a unique style built on complex rhythm and harmony balanced by wit. Gillespie was so quick-minded, he could create an endless flow of ideas at unusually fast tempo. Nobody had ever even considered playing a trumpet that way, let alone had actually tried. All the musicians respected him because, in addition to outplaying everyone, he knew so much and was so generous with that knowledge...
Wynton Marsalis

The Greatesr Trumpet Of Them All (1958) signed by Dizzy — ***The Greatesr Trumpet Of Them All (1958)*** signed by Dizzy

He told me, “It took me all my life to know what notes not to play."
James Moody
Musically, the most important facet of Dizzy’s playing is not just his rhythm, harmony, chord changes or his technical facility alone. It’s the whole thing. Knowing that horn, he can do anything with it.
Cab Calloway

Diz And Getz (1956 recordings) signed by Dizzy, John Lewis, Max Roach, Ray Brown, Herb Ellis — ***Diz And Getz (1956 recordings)*** signed by Dizzy, John Lewis, Max Roach, Ray Brown, Herb Ellis

When we went to a gig, while many of the musicians would go backstage and change, the first thing Diz would do was go to the piano and start playing something. He would try to figure out something he was working on or improve on something he had heard. Diz was a teacher from the standpoint that if he played something and you asked him what it was, he would bring you to the piano and explain it. He knew the importance of the piano. Long ago, while pointing to a piano, he told me, “Moody, this is it, right here.” He felt that if a player knows the piano, then he will know what the trombones are doing, what the trumpets are doing, and what the saxophones are doing, because every instrument is right there on the piano. And he was right; it is there. Many of the great musicians know something about the piano, because, as Diz said, that is where everything is.
James Moody

Dizzy In Paris (1953 10” Vinyl) signed by Dizzy — ***Dizzy In Paris (1953 10” Vinyl)*** signed by Dizzy

John Birks "Dizzy" Gillespie was a jazz composer, educator, performer and trumpeter with few if any equals. He and Charlie Parker were the principal architects in moving jazz from swing to bebop, or modern jazz. For his part, Dizzy was modest about his contributions: “People talk about the (Earl) Hines band being 'the incubator of bop' and the leading exponents of that music ended up in the Hines band. But people also have the erroneous impression that the music was new. It was not. The music evolved from what went before. It was the same basic music. The difference was in how you got from here to here to here...naturally, each age has got its own shit." Yes, it was some shit that Gillespie and Parker pursued...and John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Charles Mingus, Sonny Rollins and so many others quickly followed.

Dizzy Gillespie was born in Cheraw, South Carolina, attended the Laurinburg Institute in North Carolina on a music scholarship and then moved to Philadelphia when his family relocated there. His first professional gig was The Frank Fairfax Orchestra in 1935, and then Teddy Hill's Orchestra replacing his idol Roy Eldridge in 1937. His big break occurred when he joined the Cab Calloway Orchestra in 1939, and Dizzy was already plotting a new course for his music.

As bassist Milt Hinton observed in his book Playing For Changes, "Diz's music was revolutionary. Even back then he was way ahead of the times. But only a couple of us who had our ears open listened. I knew he'd take music to a new place...Diz's biggest musical problem was that he'd try playing things he couldn't technically handle. I'd often hear him start a solo he just couldn't finish. Whenever that happened, some of the older guys would look at him and make ugly faces. Cab usually showed the same kind of disgust and often scolded Diz at rehearsals or after a performance. He'd say things like, 'Why in the hell can't you play like everyone else? Why d'ya make all those mistakes and have all those funny sounds come outta your horn? Play it like the other guys do!' "

Dizzy and Cab's enmity for each other simmered and finally boiled over in the infamous "spitball" incident in 1941 at the State Theater in Hartford, Connecticut. Cab was angry that Milt Hinton had just blown a bass solo and he saw Dizzy mocking Milt's performance. Just then, a large spitball landed next to Chu Berry, the star saxophonist. Cab was watching from the wings and he became incensed. As Milt wrote, "He never saw who threw it, but in Cab's eyes, Diz was always wrong, so he didn't have to study the situation any further." After the show, words escalated to a slap across Dizzy's face by a much bigger and physically imposing Cab Calloway. Dizzy reached for his knife and sliced Cab ruining his white tux and tails stage outfit. Though Cab's wounds were superficial (he was able to perform the second and third shows!), Dizzy was fired. Many years later, their friendship was mended and Dizzy revealed the real culprit of the "spitball" - fellow trumpeter Jonah Jones, who was sitting next to him.

***Dizzy Gillespie Big Band (circa 1946-1948)*** signed by Ray Brown, James Moody

Upon leaving Cab, the music gods smiled when Dizzy joined the Earl Hines band in late 1941 and he was reunited with the virtuoso alto saxophonist and composer Charlie Parker, whom he had met while sitting in with the Jay McShann Orchestra in 1939. The history of jazz would be forever altered as these two brilliant talents helped usher in bebop, a music of blazing tempos, rapid chord changes and unprecedented improvisation. After a short stint with singer Billy Eckstine's big band, Dizzy started his own big band in 1946, and James Moody, Thelonious Monk, Ray Brown, Kenny Clarke, Miles Davis, John Lewis, and Milt Jackson are just a few of the jazz legends who played in Dizzy's band. As the big band era drew to a close because of economics, Dizzy started a quintet: trumpet, sax, piano, bass and drums which showcased his compositions.

An Electrifying Evening (1961) signed by Dizzy — ***An Electrifying Evening (1961)*** signed by Dizzy

Dizzy was a noted composer and many of his songs have become jazz standards: "Groovin' High", "Salt Peanuts", "Woody 'n' You", "A Night In Tunisia", "Con Alma." Dizzy also introduced elements of Cuban rhythms in his compositions co-written with noted Cuban congo player Chano Pozo on "Tin Tin Deo" and "Manteca." Through the aegis of the US State Department, Dizzy traveled to many countries as a musical ambassador, and helped discover Arturo Sandoval. Paquito D'Rivera and Chucho Valdes among others. As a propagandist for exquisite jazz, Dizzy was nonpareil.

Despite all his accomplishments as a composer, performer, and mentor, Dizzy is probably best known for two things: his upturned horn and puffy cheeks. The origin of his bent horn is attributed to his wife's birthday party on January 6, 1953, when two dancers, Stump and Stumpy, fell into Dizzy's horn and the bell was bent. Dizzy liked the tone so much from the damaged horn, that his wife, Lorraine, drew a picture of the horn and it was sent to his horn manufacturer, Martin to make a custom horn. Thereafter, Dizzy always appeared with this distinctive horn. His puffy cheeks were also a signature. When playing, Dizzy's cheeks would swell and puff to an almost grotesque size, as if the bellows of a fireplace blower had run amok. As a testament to his legend, a photograph of Dizzy in all his puff glory resides in theMuseum Of Fine Arts in Boston as a gift from photographer Herb Ritts.

One Night In Washington (1955 recordings) signed by Dizzy — ***One Night In Washington (1955 recordings)*** signed by Dizzy

I saw Dizzy perform many times through the years, first at the Berklee School of Music in Boston in the late 1970s (Carmen McRae opened for him!), and mostly at smaller venues later in his career, like Blues Alley, a small club in Washington DC in the 1980s and early 1990s. He always had great musicians with him and he was such an affable and engaging performer. I was struck by the speed, skill and ferocity of his trumpet which belied his genial and (almost) goofy stage presence. When Dizzy blew his horn, he was all business.

After a Sunday late show performance at Blues Alley, I snuck backstage to get some vinyl signed. I knocked on the door and Dizzy said "Come in." I cracked the door open, Dizzy was seated and the manager of the club was next to him with a bag of money, counting the week's receipts. I explained, "I don't mean to interrupt...." Dizzy cut me off quickly, all the charm and good nature drained from his visage. "You cannot come in here right now. We have to settle our bill. Please leave and I will deal with you later." "OK, I'm really sorry," I stammered as I withdrew and Dizzy closed the door. In my face. Oops, that wasn't as smooth as I thought it would go. Five or ten minutes later, the door opened, the manager left, and Dizzy welcomed me. All the charm and wit had returned. "Let's see what you got" he said reaching for an album. I apologized again for the intrusion but Dizzy would have none of it. It was time to sign the vinyl. He had been paid, the band had been paid, and there were more shows to play. A showman's life.

Dizzy Gillespie, The Greatest Trumpet Of Them All, just like the vinyl proclaims.