PAGE SIX THE MICHIGAN DAILY WEDNESDAT ITILY A. 199 THE MTC~h(~AN L LVaaaaa %.a ,. u, YY.Ui/i\i'sa.7 Ald'i+s aUlu X 1000 1.70( I Festival at Newport: The Soun ds of Jazz '67 By DAVID BERSON Special To The Daily WPORT, R.I-As you stroll. down the streets of this ocean- side town, you get the feeling that it really wouldn't be much dif- ferent even if it wasn't the scene of three of the largest music fes- tivals in the world. Near the center of town, its narrow brick streets are lined with tinywooden houses and on its outskirts along the shore rest incredible Gatsbyesque estates be- longing to Eastern magnates of various proprieties. For the past 14 years, Newport has weathered annual invasions of festival fans, somehow retaining its wispy tranquility in the face of the spasmodic assaults. The jazz festival is a little dif- ferent now, from seven or eight years ago when jazz was the music of the underground. The visitors are a little older, a little more subdued, more in search of Fourth of July relief than aes- thetic injection. The same goes for the music. THE SATURDAY afternoon pro- gram was put together by Herbie Mann "to show how jazz has been affected by music of other cul- tures" and vice versa. It was an international program, and while little of the music was gripping, with that nice breeze and sun- shine and notoriously p'etty girls all over the place, it had its moments. Herbie Mann is not one of the better flutists in jazz or in any- thing else, but he is one of the more clever men on the scene. He selects his material and sidemen carefully and is constantly chang- ing his group's sound. He is cur- rently on a Middle East kick and employing an electric oudist "which we found in an oudist camp." Mann's group was joined for several numbers by Michael Olatunji, a Nigerian drummer, and that was all nice, too. But the only memorable musical point of the afternoon was the work of Mann's vibraphone play- er, .a young Californian named Roy Ayres, who played wonder- fully clean and swinging long lines in front of some powerful bass work by Reggie Workman. John Birks Gillespie, a middle aged trumpet player occasionally known as Dizzy, was also on hand in the afternoon, joining Mann, Olatunji, and the German trom- bonist Albert Manglesdorff for several choruses of "Night In Tunisia." Diz, still the heavy- weight champ and obviously still the buff's favorite buffoon, con- firmed prolonged rumors that "Manteca" really does mean grease and also announced that he is once again a candidate for, the presidency. Gillespie returned in the eve- ning'for a short set with his own group and played a beautifully constructed solo on an original called "Winter Samba." "The one we've all been waiting for," the Buddy Rich Big Band finished off the Saturday pack- age with some very ordinary big band riffs. Everybody kept wait- ing, and as it turned out, J.B. Gillespie once again saved the day. Just before Rich was about to kick off the band's last tune, Gillespie strolled onstage and an-; nounced that he wanted to play. It was evident to that time, from Rich's anonymous sideman, that the drummer-leader does not care much for competition. So before calling for a blues for Gil- lespie, he took upon himself the unenviable task of playing the dozens with The Great One. The dozens match was rated a toss-up by most, and so the blues began with Diz drawing pop-eyes from Rich's trumpet section. When the tune and the applause died down, Gillespie announced that he would like to play again. This was too much for Rich, and he gave Diz a good verbal going- over, seemingly sending on his way to the wings. Then Rich called off the band's bread-and-butter chart, "West Side Story Medley," and there must have been a dozen old Negro ladies weeping softly in the aud- ience. All seemed lost, until-lo and behold-it became apparent that Rich's trumpet section was wail- ing with a strange buoyance. Yes it was. And yes he was. Diz was merrily sight-reading the first part, his entire face puffed to gigantic proportions, reaching for mutes that weren't there, wink- ing 'at all the photographers at the edge of the stage, generally having a ball, and leaving plenty of room for Buddy Rich to end the set and the evening with one of t h o s e awesome superman drum marathons that left every- body wondering how many hands the little guy has, anyhow. THERE WAS a notable short- age of new jazz at the festival, and an overabundance of that o1' 1938 Savoy Ballroom sound from the Woody Herman Herd, the Milford Youth Band, a Japanese band called The Sharps and Flats, and Rich, proving that if the big band business isn't dead physically, it pretty much is spiritually., The exception was a 21-piece band from California led by Don Ellis, who may be the first jazz bandleader to have discovered electricity. The orchestra features an electrified reed section, elec- tric piano, and Ellis himself plays his four-valved trumpet with an electronic pick-up and e c h o chamber. The band erupted through its set propelled by four drummers and three bass players. Add to all of this some crazy time signa- tures and material which includes fugues, Turkish folk rhythms, ragas, and boisterous Dixieland, and you have what usually turns out to be just another stereo- phonic gimmick. But Ellis has kept this band in the big band tradition, utilizing the good things of the past with his own new ideas. Only about 600 people heard the band on Sunday afternoon, after a very hard morning rain, but they gave Ellis a standing ovation and festival producer George Wein immed- iately announced that the band would be back next year. Albert Ayler . played before a disappearing' audience on Friday evening but was well-received by those who didn't file out. Rolf Kuhn, a German clarinet- ist, turned in what was probably the festival's most polished per- formance of new music. He has tremendous technical facility and played a tightly knit set of atonal music, weaving his horn in and out of some brilliant piano music by his brother Joachim. The John Handy Quintet, mak- ing its first appearance at New- port, played two long pieces, the first called "Tears for Ole Miss," a programmed piece which tried to deniet James. M'eredifh' nd- Hines, a tall, trim man who looks about half of his 60-odd years, played sturdy two-handed piano: which was as fresh as it must+ have been when Hines was work- ing for Louis Armstrong's Hot Five in the late Twenties. L' Upl'!ti a '5iv~i-" - ' Nina Simone produced a pow- mission in the University of Mis- erfully emotional set. She is a sissippi. It came complete with striking black woman who com- blasts on police and penny whis- mands absolute involvement from tles, a chorus of "Yankee Doodle," her audience. Her voice is deep- and complete freezes by every- throated, but at moments so body in the band in the middle gentle, it quivers. Miss Simone's gifts are many, but perhaps her1 Handy's alto sound is pinched greatest is a sure harmonic sense and often annoying, and despite with which she extends simple all the action, the group rarely melodies into her own personal: Jells. Vibist Bobby Hutcherson, style. Her piano seems almost who has made some fine records baroque but yet fully rooted in in the -last two years establishing the blues. Her only shortcoming: himself as one of the best men on the instrument, seemed particu- larly frustrated and unable to iustain his solos. ONE OF THE MOST interest- ing new groups at the festival was the Gary Burton Quartet. Bur- ton, a former jazz prodigy, who made his .first record at 17, was featured with Stan Getz at 19, etc. He was, in general, a fair- haired virtuoso about jazz, and is now a long-haired virtuoso. One suspects he discovered that while barely out of his teens, he was playing the same kind of music that men twice his age were playing when they were teen- agers. He and his guitarist, another flowering youth named Larry Coryell, played some beautiful pieces written by the English composer Mike Gibbs, interweav- ing vibes and guitar through often immensely complex yet swinging lines in front of Steve Swallow, bass, and Stu Martin, drums. Coryell, who likes country blues dug in deep and in an electric fury, broke his strap and turned up his amp for a wild feedback solo. There were some expected joys at the festival from Wes Mont- gomery's group and the Earl "Fatha" Hines quartet. Mont- gomery thumbed his way through "Bumpin' on Sunset," "Tequila," and "Goin' Outta My Head," playing double stops as easily as most guitarists play single notes. "JOHN BIRKS GILLESPIE, n is some of her lyrical material, which seems noticeably sloppy. ONE OF THE built-in difficul- ties with most jazz festivals is. that the artists rarely get enough time to get below the surface of the music, sort of "Okay, baby, you got 30 minutes. Get out there and 'really get inta' somethin'." This penalizes groups which de- pend most on interaction, and they often come out appearing rather than performing. Such was the fate of the Miles Davis Quintet, which skittered through "Ginger Bread Boy," "Circles," "Round Midnight" and "So What," with everybody - Miles, Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter. Ron Carter and Tony Williams-playing beautifully but! without the unity that makes the group probably the best in *jazz today. The Dave Brubeck Quartet played three uneventful originals and then walked off. Everyone shouted for another number, and so they played another uneventful' tune and walked off again. The man who made the best of his time turning in the best per- hands from the keyboard. Philly Joe Jones is the trio's drummer, and he is probably still the most musical percussionist in jazz. BUT IN TERMS of reaching the folk, as they say, nobody at New- port was more successful than Lionel Hampton. Hampton and his big band *ere the last group on the bill, and the old'vibes player seemed determined not to leave By the time Hampton had gotten into his fourth tune, Joe Newman and Snooky Young were leading the trumpet section in some Amer- ican Bandstand clapping, Jimmy Nottingham was tossing his horn into the air, and Hamp was doing the monkey at center stage with his rotund pianist Mil Buckner. Then tenor man Illinois Jacquet came out in strange spirits, honk- ing, screaming and waving his i without getting people dancing in horn as he stomped about the formance of the entire festival, h ils was pianist Bill Evans. At a time the aisles, stage. If you think that was weird, when intensity is a favored com- Hampton managed to hit that you should have seen what hap- modity and jazzmen are blowing thin line between getting the audi- pened when he started toward the whistles and honking saxophones ence laughing at. him with some edge of the stage and tried to lead and hammering on pianos to deadly funky arrangements and the band. Drummer Alan Dawson achieve it, Evans builds tremen- laughing with him and his shouts was making funny faces. dous heat with logical and flowing of "Yay! Yay! Yay!" and "This And people were dancing in the lines, rarely lifting his eyes or next one's really gon' be a gaasss." aisles. middlle-aged trumpet player occasionally known as Dizzy . . . still the heavyweight champ and obviously still the buff's baffoon . . B 4 * "NINA SIMONE . . . a striking black woman who commands "DON ELLIS. . may be the first jazz bandleader to have discovered electricity." involvement from her audience." ;. I