Recently I was made aware, by two readers of this blog, of an interesting paragraph in a lesser known article by François Postif (titled In Jazz Time), in the November 1960 issue of Jazz Hot, where he describes how he taped a Ray Charles concert at the Apollo.
While reading that article, I found proof for a second interesting footnote to Ray's "live" career: his first documented live performance with a big band.
"And His Big 16-Men Orch." |
The New York Amsterdam News wrote on October 8 that "Apollo Theatre management had to stop Ray Charles from doing extra shows to satisfy his fans crowding the theatre to hear him. They feared he'd wear himself out. He's there an extra week...", and "At the height of his popularity, the Apollo had to cancel the movie several times over the weekend while Ray did extra shows to accommodate the huge crowds." (The Apollo at that time presented up to 5 full shows each day - starting at 11 a.m., until midnight - but in cases like this, they were able to increase the number of scheduled shows to 7 per day).
"What to say about Ray Charles that hasn't already been said," Postif wrote, rhetorically, "he presents himself at his small electric piano [...], and sings his success of the moment, Georgia (On My Mind). It's delirious. I was lucky to have the transistor tape recorder with me, that I brought back from Italy [...] and I am listening again to the tape as I write this article. [Ray] really caresses the melody of Georgia, accompanied on flute by one of the musicians of the orchestra."
Ray Charles expert Joël Dufour has tried to check if the tape still exists, but the sad conclusion of his research was that it must be considered to be definitively lost.
But I recently found some reproductions of promotion materials for the October 1960 Apollo program that riddled me because they explicitly announced "His [i.e. Ray's] Big 16-Men Orch[estra]".
Ad in NY Amsterdam News. |
Ray's French record distributor Vega heavily promoted his Antibes concerts in '61. |
A little later, describing Ray's overall performance, he reveals that "The versions he sings are much longer than on his records, but the orchestra is so developed (it is the same line-up, so to say, which accompanied The Coasters and Dee Clark, with Clark Terry), that it gives the same impression of perfection that emerges from the records [...]."
From Cashbox, Oct. 22, 1960. |
My conclusion for now is that there certainly must have been a 16-man band backing Ray, and that it's certainly not improbable that Ray's own sextet was part of that for this occasion (although it's a bit suspect that Postif then didn't name David Fathead Newman as "the flute player" in the rendition of Georgia that he described). Although I doubt if Postif was 'connoisseur' enough to recognize Clark Terry 'behind', as he wrote, 'a majestic beard'... - the more since Terry's name at the time was big enough to be credited in the promotion materials for the show - it's not impossible that Terry took this gig (he had played the Apollo many times before in the 1950s), or even that Quincy helped him to get the assignment from his friend Ray after their (Q's and Terry's) penniless return from their own big band adventures in Europe..., or even that this was the first occasion where Quincy could try out the big band chart of Georgia (with flute!), which he penned on Ray's special request...
One thing is 100% sure in this context: Quincy Jones hired Clark to "contract the date" (i.e. to choose the musicians) for the recording of Ray's album Genius + Soul = Jazz, on 26 and 27 December 1960.
Special thanks to J.P. Verger for providing me with copies of the articles.
I was in the Army at Ft Devens, Mass. and would go the New York on some weekends. I saw in the newspaper
ReplyDeletethat Ray Charles was going to be at the Apollo. I was very aware of the Apollo and was a R&B fan. WHAT I wasn't aware of it that it was in Harlem. I took the subway to the nearest stop, go off, and found
the theater. The show was already in progress as I entered. The lights were off and I found a
seat right about dead center of the audience. When the lights came up at intermission, I found to
my surprise, and to a few hundred others that I was the lone white person within miles! It was a bit
uncomfortable, but I remember thinking how a person of color must feel in an all white crowd (especially
in that time period). Always remember Ray Charles and the Coasters. Al Ludlow (Al_ludlow@yahoo.com)