|
Chicago Tribune,
October 19, 1995.
Howard Reich - Tribune Arts Critic
|
The big band tradition is alive and well and living in
Berwyn, judging by the proceedings Wednesday night at
FitzGeralds's.
Though the eclectic club long has thrived as a presenter
of everything from blues to funk to bluegrass, FitzGerald's
also has become a bastion for large-ensemble jazz. On most
Wednesday and Saturday nights, some of the top big bands in
the Chicago area play the Berwyn club, with large audiences
cheering them on.
Wednesday night's show was notable because Rob Parton's
JazzTech Big Band, an unusually hard-hitting group, had
brought in a guest soloist: noted trombonist John Fedchock.
To hear an instrumentalist as accomplished as Fedchock
teaming with a large band as technically and stylistically
adept as Parton's JazzTech was to revel anew in the glories
of the big band tradition.
Fedchock, a veteran of swing bands led by Woody Herman,
is more than just a proficient soloist well-versed in big
band idioms. The extroverted nature of his scores, the brisk
interplay between his solo passages and his orchestral
accompaniments and the radiant quality of his brasschoir
writing amount to an unabashed celebration of the large-band
format.
Smaller groups may have taken over the jazz scene in the
'40s and '50s, but shows such as the Fedchock-Parton
collaboration remind listeners that nothing can match the
harmonic complexity, rhythmic drive and expressive range of
a big band at full cry.
Though big band soloists often prefer demure orchestral
accompaniments (the better to display the star's
virtuosity), Fedchock took quite the opposite approach: He
played his most effective solos when the supporting band was
pushing him the hardest.
His arrangements of "Caravan," for instance, asked the
band's horns to roar at the fortissimo level for long
stretches of time. Yet Fedchock's solos cut right through
the orchestral texture, even though he didn't have to
overplay or over-project to be heard.
Rather, it was the penetrating quality of his tone, the
fleetness of his improvised solos and the ingenuity with
which he negotiated the orchestral passages that kept
Fedchock ever in the forefront.
Even in a ballad such as Thelonious Monk's "Ruby, My
Dear," Fedchock (doubling as soloist and conductor) urged
the JazzTech band to indulge in a big and bluesy sound and a
screaming approach to climaxes.
Somehow, though, Fedchock rode this tidal wave of sound
without getting drowned out by it.
As for Parton's JazzTech Big Band, its opening numbers
(performed without Fedchock) suggested that the ensemble
playing was a shade less precise than on previous occasions.
After a few more pieces, however, the band was back on
track, articulating scores with the precision and accuracy
of old.
|
|
Jazzgram,
October 1993.
Jack Bowers
|
If Kermit the Frog thinks it isn't easy bein' green,
he should try leading a contemporary big band. In spite of
what one may have heard or read, the big bands aren't dead
-- yet -- but directing one of them nowadays is the sort of
thankless task that makes selling air conditioners north of
the Artic Circle look like a brilliant career move. There
are a surprisingly large number of bands (a dozen or more)
making lovely music in the Chicago area but only a few have
a place they can call home. And none can be considered
successful if one measures success in terms of dollars and
cents. This is the first in a series of articles in which we
will introduce you to these largely unsung groups that are
carrying forward the proud tradition of big-band jazz
Chicago-style.
It's Wednesday afternoon and trumpeter Rob Parton, the
leader of the Jazztech Big Band, is on the phone calling
piano players. The band is playing that night, and for a
long while it looks as though they'll be doing so without
anyone seated at the all-important keyboard. "The guys [in
the band] are responsible for finding someone to sub for
them if they're unable to play," Parton says later. "But in
this case the piano player was fairly new, decided to wait
until the last minute to find a replacement, and then
couldn't find one."
So Parton made the calls, about 40 of them, using a file
he keeps with the names and numbers of almost every
competent jazz musician within driving distance of Chicago.
"The guy we found was fine; he did a good job," says Parton.
"But I wouldn't want to go through that again." "Hey, I'm
not complaining," he quickly adds. "I love what I do. That's
the only reason I do it. I'm certainly not in it for the
money."
Rob Parton has been a player in the big-band game since
his high school days in Erlanger, Kentucky. There he first
heard Maynard Ferguson and decided that he wanted to play
lead trumpet in a big band. Parton studied under Vince Di
Martino ("a great teacher and a great trumpet player") at
the University of Kentucky. After graduating with a degree
in music education, he decided to pursue a master's degree
in trumpet performance at Northern Illinois University.
"After a couple of months in the Chicago area," he recalls,
"I started gigging around, meeting other musicians,
meanwhile playing every Thursday night in De Kalb with my
own Jazztech band, which was actually an NIU jazz ensemble
we put together so we could play our own charts in the
clubs."
One of the groups Parton hooked up with was the Bob Stone
Big Band. "I played with Bob for about two years," he says.
" We worked hard adn could do more challenging material than
your average rehearsal band. When I found out that Bob was
moving to Florida, I thought, 'Wow! I could put my own band
back together using the nucleus of his band as a starting
point.'" When Stone left, his ensemble became Rob Parton's
Jazztech Big Band. They began playing on Wednesday evenings
at the Moosehead Bar and Grill nearly four years ago.
With Parton at the helm and anchoring the trumpet
section, the band honed its skills for a number of months
before entering a recording studio to produce its first
compact disc, the remarkably polished and irresistibly
swinging Jazztech big Band, on Sea Breeze Records
with special guest, trumpeter Conte Candoli. The band's
second disc for Sea Breeze, The Count Is In, was
released in September.
"The band has pretty much evolved into what I've always
wanted it to be -- a band with the finest musicians in the
area, as tight as or tighter than any road band. We know we
can't be perfect -- there's gonna be a mistake here and
there -- but we want to always be swinging and to keep the
number of 'clams' (sour notes) to minimum. We've gotten some
good jobs because of how well the band plays together.quot;
The band's precision is all the more impressive when one
realizes that rehearsal is all but impossible. "We're mostly
sight-reading," Parton says. "We did manage to rehearse a
couple of times before going into the studio to record [the
first disc]."
One of his goals, Parton says, "was to have a band that's
two or three [players] deep, and I think we've gotten to
that point now. We can have a sub come in and you don't know
there's a sub there. When you're in the music business,
that's a good position to be in."
Another goal, Parton adds, is to "promote Chicago-area
arrangers and composers. That's why our CDs have leaned
heavily on charts by Chicagoans, mainly (trombonist) Jimmy
Martin." (Martin's composition, "Main Street News," is one
of the highlights of the band's first recording.) "In this
way," he says, "we can develop our own 'sound' instead of
playing, say, all Count Basie charts, although we have
nothing against Basie or any of the other well-known bands.
We can play in a number of different styles, but we like to
play compositions that reflect our Chicago roots."
Many of Parton's sidemen play in other bands as well. "I
have no problem with that," he says. "I play in other groups
too. The music isn't competitive; it's not sports. For $25 a
night [union scale for a big-band gig], it doesn't make much
sense to say, 'You're my man; you can't play anywhere else.'
If I were paying someone a big salary, say $800 a week, it
might be different. But no one can really make a living
doing this. We do it because we love the music."
Parton says he has at least 800 charts in his library at
home. "We have about 200 charts in the book at any one time,
but I'm always taking 10 or 15 out and replacing them with
10 or 15 others."
The time-consuming work of leading a big band --
undertaken in addition to Parton's full-time position as
coordinator of jazz studies at Chicago State University and
the many freelance gigs he must take "to pay the bills" --
requires a good deal of patience and understanding from his
wife of eight years, Tami, and the couple's four-year-old
son, Joey. "Well, thank goodness she loves jazz too," Rob
says.
The band suffered a setback when the Moosehead recently
decided to go in another direction musically and severed
their longtime association. "I've been busy trying to find
another place for us to play regularly," Parton says. The
band is now appearing once a month at Fitzgerald's in
Berwyn.
After recording a third disc for Sea Breeze, Parton would
like to take the band to Europe, "to tour the festivals
there" and to appear here at home in the Chicago Jazz
Festival, "a longtime dream of ours."
Let us cross our fingers tightly and wish that these
ambitions are realized, for the Jazztech Big Band is one of
Chicago's treasures.
Chicago-area big bands: If you would like to be
included in this series, please contact Jack Bowers,
708.869.9039 (days) or 708.256.2347 (evenings).
|
|
Chicago Tribune,
January 30, 1992.
Howard Reich - Entertainment writer
|
From the first blast of sound to the last roaring chord
of the night, there was no doubt that Rob Parton's JazzTech
Big Band could hold its own against almost any similar
ensemble on the road today.
Truth be told, most of the big bands still toiling under
the name of long-gone founders such as Duke Ellington, Count
Basie and the like don't have a fraction of the energy,
brilliance or braying audacity of JazzTech.
To hear this kind of aggressive virtuosity, you would
have to look toward the acoustic bands of Maynard Ferguson,
the jazz ensembles at a few big universities and the top
freelance orchestras in New York, Los Angeles and
Washington, D.C.
For Chicagoans, the joy is in knowing that this terrific
band tears it up every Wednesday night in a comfortable,
unpretentious room called the Moosehead Bar and Grill, 240
E. Ontario St.
One hastens to add that this is not big-band music of the
tuxedoed, '40s variety.
On the contrary, this group proves that the art of large
ensemble playing has continued to evolve through the
decades, even while being overshadowed by infinitely less
accomplished pop and rock groups.
Thanks to the college jazz programs that began springing
up in the late '50s and early '60s, big-band music has
evolved with new charts, new sounds and new levels of
technical accomplishment.
The proof is in ensembles such as JazzTech, with leader
Rob Parton and ace trumpeter Al Hood both having played in
the Northern Illinois University Jazz Ensemble.
Parton's group, however, goes the excellent NIU Jazz
Ensemble one better, for JazzTech amounts to an orchestra of
mostly first-chair players.
So regardless of which section happens to be playing--the
front-line reeds, the back-line trumpets--the control of
color, attack, phrasing and swing is often amazing.
Consider, for example, "Blues for Mr. P," which instantly
ignited Wednesday night's show with hard-hitting chords, a
thrilling tempo and virtually flawless ensemble playing.
Each section offer a tightly compressed sound.
Hood's wailing, Ferguson-like trumpet rode atop this rush
of sound, and perhaps only a soloist of Hood's lung power
could have done it.
Generically, JazzTech probably would have to be called a
swing band, though, rhythmically speaking, this band does
more than just swing. "Whirl" might better describe the way
these musicians move from one beat to the next.
The evening also offered a few moments not so highly
strung, most notably "When I Fall in Love," with Jack
Schmidt's languorous trombone solo caressing the band's
warm, muted chords. Even here, though, it wasn't long before
the sweetly voiced sound exploded into bright, brilliant
riffs. Obviously, these players cannot help themselves.
Among the evening's featured instrumentalists, Tony Vacca
played fast and muscular solos on tenor saxophone, Bob
Frankich made his alto saxophone sing and swing, and
vocalist Cindy Symmonds scatted elegantly.
So long as Parton and friends hold the stage, the big
band era lives on--smashingly.
|