Showing posts with label Jack Teagarden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jack Teagarden. Show all posts

17 April 2024

Casper Reardon - The First Jazz Harp Player

Casper Reardon (1907-41) didn't start out to become the first jazz harp player. He was a trained classical musician who had performed with the Philadelphia Orchestra and the Cincinnati Symphony.

But after a few of his Cincinnati students introduced him to the delights of popular music, he became interested enough that he began appearing on local radio playing jazz as "Arpeggio Glissando."

Eventually his avocation became a vocation, and he ended up in New York, in a recording studio with Red McKenzie and his group. That's where this story of Reardon's brief but eventful jazz odyssey begins.

This post covers 25 of the harpist's commercial recordings, including almost all of his output. Most of the other recordings, some airchecks and one film appearance are linked below. The recording used for this post are mainly remastered from Internet Archive transfers.

A biography of Reardon can be found on IMDb, written by Peter Mintun.

Early Recordings as a Sideman

Reardon's first recording session was in 1933, and involved musicians who have appeared several times on this blog - Jack Teagarden, Tommy Dorsey, Pee Wee Russell, Bud Freeman, and Eddie Condon. Three songs were set down, none of them issued at the time, but "Mean to Me" appeared on a private compilation a number of years ago in noisy but listenable shape.

The leading light is trombonist Teagarden, who immediately makes apparent the similarity of Fred Ahlert's melody to the "St. Louis Blues." McKenzie is the serviceable vocalist.

Red McKenzie and Jack Teagarden
Teagarden must have liked what be heard from Reardon, for he had the harpist in the studio the following year for a session that included the trombonist's brother Charlie, Benny Goodman and Frankie Trumbauer.

From the downbeat of the blues "Junk Man," Reardon is front and center of the ensemble, keeping up with some of the finest musicians of the time. His rhythm and phrasing fit beautifully with the other musicians. 

The harpist is not as central to "Stars Fell on Alabama" and the generic "Your Guess Is Just as Good as Mine," but still makes his presence known. The songs are mainly showcases for Teagarden, who is in excellent voice.

Benny Goodman and Jack Teagarden,
who looks like he may have swallowed his mouthpiece
Next, Paul Whiteman engaged Reardon for a two-day session in December 1934. The first two sides were devoted to compositions by the English pianist Reginald Foresythe, whose works were the type of high-toned popular music that Whiteman favored. The harpist does not play a pivotal role in these recordings, but they are interesting regardless.

The more ambitious is "Deep Forest (A Hymn to Darkness)," which Foresythe wrote with Andy Razaf and Earl Hines. (This performance does not include Razaf's lyrics. You can hear them in Foresythe's recording on YouTube.)

Reginald Foresythe
"Serenade to a Wealthy Widow" is a lively and memorable piece that is perhaps the best known of Foresythe's compositions. Its jaunty melody and irreverent title would seem to have inspired Raymond Scott's works.

The final Whiteman piece is "When I Grow Too Old to Dream." Vocally, the King's Men were a throwback to the 20s. Their singing is too impersonal for the lyrics; Kenny Sargent with Glen Gray is better. Both versions came out in 1935, timed to the release of the film The Night Is Young, with songs by Sigmund Romberg and Oscar Hammerstein II. The studio was trying (and failing) to turn Evelyn Laye and silent-era vet Ramon Novarro into a second Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy.

In early 1936, Reardon made four sides with the obscure Bob Terry for the Champion label. This collection includes two of them, both highly enjoyable although not well recorded. "It's Been So Long" is a Walter Donaldson-Harold Adamson song written for the film The Great Ziegfeld"Sing an Old-Fashioned Song (To a Young Sophisticated Lady)" is by Fred Ahlert and Joe Young. Reardon has accomplished solos in both, albeit dimly reproduced. Bunny Berigan is the assertive trumpeter; Wayne Gregg the vocalist.

The 1936 Liberty Music Shop Recordings

The invaluable Liberty Music Shop label gave Reardon a chance to step out on his own, starting with an April 1936 date. He is the focus on the recordings, with anonymous backing that at least on these first songs includes the strings from Lud Gluskin's orchestra.

For his first number, the harpist chose one of Duke Ellington's best songs, "In a Sentimental Mood." It gets a lush treatment, with Reardon providing an obbligato accompaniment to a low-register clarinet and the string ensemble. This is followed by an up-tempo interlude where he swings the tune and the ensemble is the accompaniment. The song ends with flourishes from the harp player.

Will Hudson's "Tormented" is a nice complement to the Ellington song (and may have been influenced by it). Again, there are both slow and quick sections.

For his second Liberty Music Shop session that same year, Reardon was accompanied by a similar ensemble, this time with oboe and bass clarinet. For "Summertime," the instruments of the ensemble again take the main melody line, with the harp providing both secondary melodies and obbligato accompaniment. It's effective.

For "If You Can't Sing It (You'll Have to Swing It)" (aka "Mr. Paganini") Reardon essentially accompanies uncredited vocalist Bea Gierdorf. Presumably this song was chosen because it combines something approaching jazz with a nod to classical music. Introduced by Martha Raye in the film Rhythm on the Range, it was a hit for Ella Fitzgerald with Chick Webb's band.

In late 1936, Reardon appeared live with a group called the Three T's (Jack and Charlie Teagarden, Frankie Trumbauer). An aircheck of a few of their numbers can be found on YouTube.

1937-8: A Film Appearance, LMS and Master Sessions

Reardon's only film role was in 1937's You're a Sweetheart, which starred Alice Faye. The harpist was cast as "Cousin Caspar" (sic), who had a featured spot where he played "Ain't Misbehavin'" and the "St. Louis Blues." He's introduced as "the only man living who can play hot music on a harp." The clip can be seen on YouTube.

'Cousin Caspar'
Another version of "Junk Man" was recorded for the film, but is not in the final release. It can be heard from a playback disc, also on YouTube.

Reardon's final session for Liberty Music Shop was in May 1937. His first selection was "Washboard Blues," a 1925 Hoagy Carmichael song. For contrast the harpist chose Cole Porter's "What Is This Thing Called Love?", a 1929 song that was influential with jazz artists. For these songs, his backing musicians are mainly limited to accompaniment in the former song, but make themselves known in the Porter tune.

Reardon's next record date was with the small Master label, which had a well-chosen array of artists, including Duke Ellington, Raymond Scott, Willard Robison and Adrian Rollini. Even so, it didn't last long.

There is some dispute about when the sessions took place - 1937 or 1938 - and even which ones involved Reardon. But we do have one disc that combined his recording of Fats Waller's "Ain't Misbehavin'" with his second of Ellington's "In a Sentimental Mood." Both are with a large band playing busy arrangements by Franklyn Marks, who worked for Charlie Barnet and others. Reardon's harp is a bit under-recorded, unfortunately.

One source I consulted suggested that Reardon also appears on two songs recorded at the time time, one issued by Master under Marks' name (another "Washboard Blues") and another apparently led by Lou Raderman ("A Blues Serenade") that may not have been issued. I haven't been able to locate either.

In 1938, Reardon appeared in Rodgers and Hart's I Married an Angel. He is not heard on any of the commercial recordings associated with the show, such as the ones I posted a year ago, but Peter Mintun has found airchecks of him playing the title song on two occasions, plus an interview and a performance of "I Can't Give You Anything But Love," all of which can be found on his Soundcloud site. Peter has a 1935 radio interview as well.

The Final Recordings

Reardon made some of his finest recordings for the Schirmer label in 1940. His first Schirmer session, in February 1940, was with a small ensemble and yielded four sides, all standards - "I Can't Give You Anything But Love," "I Got Rhythm," "Easy to Love" and "They Didn't Believe Me." The latter two have vocal solos by Loulie Jean Norman, who sounds slightly ill at ease.

Reardon also recorded two classical works for Schirmer - Debussy's "En bateau" and a piece by the harpist's teacher, Carlos Salzedo. The Debussy can be found on Peter Mintun's site.

Casper Reardon and Dana Suesse
Mintun, an authority on Dana Suesse, says that Reardon had met Gus Schirmer in 1939 through Suesse, whose compositions were recently celebrated on this blog. She recalled to Peter, "Casper told me about having an engagement with the Philadelphia Symphony and wanted me to write something for him." She decided to compose a suite with the title, "Young Man with a Harp." The title is a play on the popular 1938 book "Young Man with a Horn," based on Bix Beiderbecke's life.

The session with the Philadelphia Orchestra was at Robin Hood Dell, conducted by Alexander Smallens. There also was a performance by the Rochester Civic Orchestra led by Guy Fraser Harrison.

78 album cover
Schirmer agreed to record the piece in 1940, although not with orchestra. The performers were Reardon, Suesse on piano and Chauncey Morehouse on percussion instruments. The work comes off quite well. The movements pay homage to the instrument's ancient history ("Processional - Thebes 1300 BC"), its historic association with Ireland ("Evensong - Ireland 1300 AD"), and its use in modern popular music ("20th Century Madrigal"). The suite is a brilliant showcase for the harpist.

Casper Reardon died of undiagnosed kidney disease in 1941 at age 33. Dana Suesse wrote a memorial for him, "Coronach," a beautiful work that can be found on Peter Mintun's site. He writes, "It was Dana's musical way of saying farewell to a significant friend and colleague."

18 July 2022

The Young David Allyn - 1940-45


Vocalist David Allyn (1919-2012) is a particular favorite of mine. He never achieved great success, but was a well-respected artist among his peers, often being termed a "singer's singer." To me, that implies he can only be appreciated by other vocalists, but that's not the case. He was a warm, flexible and intelligent artist who was as comfortable with ballads as he was with jazz ensembles.

Most of Allyn's reputation rests on several LPs he recorded for World-Pacific, Warner Bros. and Everest in the late 50s and early 60s, but his career began much earlier. He was recording with the great trombonist Jack Teagarden at age 21 or so, and worked in the recording studios fairly regularly throughout the 1940s.

Today's post and a successor will cover all of his commercial recordings from that period (to my knowledge), adding in some transcriptions and live performances captured on airchecks. These come largely from my collection, with some additions from Internet Archive sources. This first installment includes 21 songs from 1940-45. The follow-up will offer 25 recordings covering 1946-49.

To demonstrate how far Allyn progressed from his early days until his late 50s record contracts, I recently posted his Warner Bros. LP from 1959. His singing there is spectacular.

The Jack Teagarden Recordings

Big T in the studio
Big T was both a wonderful instrumentalist and singer, but his big band never achieved much success. It was a good group even so, as demonstrated by the 1940 recordings he made for Varsity. "Now I Lay Me Down to Dream" is his first side to feature new singer David Allyn, who sounds mature but heavily under the influence of Bing and the Eberle(y) brothers.

On this song and the succeeding four, the arranger is the well-known Phil Moore. "Wait Till I Catch You in My Dreams" and "River Home" are run-of-the-mill pop tunes, smoothly done but not memorable.

At the beginning of 1941, Teagarden was the first artist to be issued on the short-lived Viking label, which quickly became known for its miserable pressings. Allyn is featured on two songs, "Here's My Heart," which isn't bad, and the terrific "It All Comes Back to Me Now." Even here, he has not really found his own style, dipping into the Crosby mannerisms here and there. The latter song has an excellent Teagarden solo.

On these early sides, Allyn is credited as "David Allen." He didn't switch spellings until c1945, and even so his surname would be spelled "Allen" periodically throughout his career. (His real name was Albert DiLella.)

In May and June 1941, Tea was in the studios making Standard Transcriptions, where Allyn can be heard to good effect, none the least because the technical quality was much better than Viking could provide. Dick DuPage is the arranger on the first two numbers. Allyn's first solo is "You're All That Matters to Me," which is done well, save for an ill-advised falsetto ending.

His next recording was a duet with the fantastically shrill Marianne Dunne, "Made Up My Mind." Much better was the fine song, "Blue Mist," one of Allyn's best early efforts (it also has a wonderful solo by the leader).

In June, Teagarden gave him two undistinguished pop tunes to handle, "These Things You Left Me" and "A Star Told a Story." Allyn does well, although he is not yet distinctive, nor entirely comfortable. 

October's "Sing a Love Song" is more of the same. Alec Wilder's "Soft as Spring" is a much better song. Its unconventional melody gives the vocalist some trouble initially, but he finishes well. 

For his final recordings with Teagarden, Allyn did "No Need to Be Sorry," followed by "This Is No Laughing Matter." On the latter, the Teagarden-Allyn duo is as good as most other versions I've heard of this current pop tune.

Allyn went into the Army when the war began, and was medically discharged a few years later.

Fellow on a Furlough

Bob Chester
By 1944, Allyn had become a much more polished and personal singer. There are no commercial recordings or transcriptions from this period, as far as I can tell, but we do have an excellent broadcast aircheck of the wartime "Fellow on a Furlough" with Bob Chester's band. Allyn's legato is much improved and he seems more into the material.

With Boyd Raeburn

Allyn's time with bandleader Boyd Raeburn, starting in 1945, was one of the high points of his career. The earliest performance in this set is another aircheck, this one from San Francisco dating from June 1945. On "There Must Be a Way," the singer sounds more relaxed than before, doing a smooth duet with Claire Hogan.

Boyd Raeburn
The next aircheck is from the following month, same locale. Allyn handles the then-new "Laura" beautifully, in the face of the band's fussy arrangement. Those odd, supposedly advanced charts were a defining feature of Raeburn's band.

George Handy
An August aircheck has a overly elaborate George Handy arrangement that does Allyn no favors, but he puts across the superior ballad "Out of This World" superbly, even so. He seemed to thrive on these challenging environments, and his lovely singing stands out even more as a result.

Also worthy is the following aircheck, from August, of another outstanding song, "There's No You." This also sounds like Handy, and his chart is even more distracting. Blasting, staccato brass incongruously leads into Allyn singing, "I feel the autumn breeze, it drifts cross my pillow as soft as a will o' the wisp." A good alto solo, possibly by Hal McKusick, also mitigates the odd arrangement.

Next we move into commercial recordings with one of Raeburn's most famous efforts, "Forgetful," a Handy composition with a chart that seemingly incorporates the Woody Woodpecker laugh, although this was a few years before that song became popular. "Forgetful" is not a good tune, but Allyn puts it across with authority. This is from the band's first date with the small Jewel label, in October 1945.

Another notable Raeburn song from this period is "Picnic in the Wintertime," here in a broadcast from Hollywood in late December 1945. A pleasant number, not helped by the showy Handy arrangement, or the bombastic Ernie Whitman announcements.

We'll complete Allyn's Raeburn sojourn in the second installment of this collection, then move on to his other commercial recordings and some airchecks from the late 1940s.