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BIOGRAPHY
It’s
an already implausible story, this saga of Von Freeman, the
iconic Chicago saxophonist who created a unique and captivating
tenor style in the 1940s and 50s; labored in the shadows throughout
the 50s and 60s; led his first recording in 1972 at the age
of 49, a couple more in the next several years, and then nothing
more for a decade; and who – in his 70s and playing
better and stronger than ever – began a series of albums
that have made him a cover boy in jazz magazines, a much-demanded
performer at festivals the world over, and the recipient of
a mayoral proclamation (with a street named for him), as well
as a doctorate from Northwestern University, at the age of
80.
But even in the already implausible story of Von Freeman’s
“post-retirement,” his 82nd year on the planet
holds a new surprise and delight: The Great Divide, which
matches him to a sympatico rhythm section anchored by his
contemporary, drummer Jimmy Cobb (whose resume includes his
work with Sarah Vaughan and the Miles Davis Quintet and Sextet
of the 1950s – the groundbreaking band that recorded
Kind Of Blue). The Great Divide also features Richard Wyands
on piano and John Webber on bass, and it marks the first time
since Freeman’s brief stay in New York, in the late
1940s, that he has surrounded himself with musicians from
the jazz capitol.
The working arrangements constitute both text and subtext
for this recording. On the surface, it places Freeman among
respected peers who support and challenge him in new ways.
Chicago has its share of excellent pianists, bassists, and
drummers, and Freeman has played with most of them; in fact,
he’s helped train most of them, at his still-running
weekly jam sessions on the south side. But familiarity can
occasionally breed a certain complacency, and jazz has always
valued the opportunity to shake things up with a well-considered
“chance encounter.”
On such tunes as “Never Fear” and “Disorder
At The Border,” Freeman responds to Cobb’s crisp
strokes and precise beat with a combination of Chicago power
and New York cool. On the other hand, the mysterious and haunting
“Chant Time” finds Cobb showering the music with
shimmering cymbals before a climactic solo on toms; add in
the subtle shadings of Wyands’s piano (underscored by
Webber’s lockstep bass), and Freeman has an eclectically
textured canvas on which to work his magic. Meanwhile, the
two long standards “Be My Love” and “This
Is Always” find Freeman on familiar ground but nudged
along different paths, as the New Yorkers bring the Big Apple’s
unparalleled polish to the music.
And that explains the subtext, too. Throughout the album,
it is the frisson of these worlds colliding that places Freeman’s
music in a different light, and even affects the music he
makes. The “great divide” between jazz in New
York and jazz in Chicago – in fact, between New York
and everyplace else – looms in the background. And it
connects directly to the overriding question about Von Freeman’s
implausible career: What if he had moved to New York? What
if he hadn’t remained in Chicago while his schoolmates
and bandmates – Gene Ammons, Johnny Griffin, Clifford
Jordan – headed east? Would he then have remained “undiscovered”
into his 70s? Von Freeman would tell you that he wouldn’t
have changed a thing, and many others would agree that his
sound and style developed because of where and when and even
how he has lived – that his unique approach to the instrument
might never have developed in the hothouse atmosphere of New
York. But The Great Divide raises the issue again, and with
exquisite results.
Born Earl Lavon Freeman on October 2, 1922, on the South Side
of Chicago, Von (or "Vonski," to use his universally
known nickname) grew up in a musical household that also gave
us his younger brothers George, a well-known Chicago guitarist,
and drummer Bruz, who retired from music in the 1960s after
a series of records on Contemporary with the Hampton Hawes
Trio. As a toddler, Von heard Louis Armstrong – not
in a dance hall but in his own living room, when Armstrong
(a family friend) would come to visit. Fats Waller also visited
the Freeman household. To this day, Von will point at the
beat up piano in his living room and say, “Fats Waller
played that piano.” At age 6, Von broke the horn off
his father’s Victrola, pieced it together with a wooden
mouthpiece, and started wailing into his very first “saxophone.”
His father relented (if only to protect his prized Victrola!)
and bought young Von a real instrument; by age 12, he was
playing in a nightclub in Gary, Indiana, sporting a large
hat to cover his youthful features.
He turned down an offer from Earl "Fatha" Hines
to stay in school, where he would learn even more about music
than if he’d gone on the road with Hines. Von attended
DuSable High School, where he studied under the famed band
director and educator Captain Walter Dyett – whose instruction
and discipline Von credits to this day. In the early 1940s,
he performed with Horace Henderson's Orchestra before heading
off to the Navy – where he took part in the “Great
Lakes Experience,” the military’s historic experiment
in desegregating the armed services through music by preparing
black bands to perform for white sailors.
Von moved to New York in the mid 40s, but he soon returned
to Chicago, where he and his brothers played in the house
band at the Pershing Ballroom, backing visiting jazz greats
that included Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie; eventually,
he led his own groups, giving early exposure to rising stars
Ahmad Jamal, Andrew Hill, and Malachi Favors. In addition,
he was a founding member of the first “Arkestra”
assembled by visionary Sun Ra in 1948 (although he never recorded
with the band). In the 50s, Von built an underground reputation
as one of the city’s most accomplished but unusual saxophonists,
with a sound just as big as you’d expect from the Chicago
“tenor school,” but displaying a radically different
sonority. He also built a reputation as one of the hardest-blowing
tenor “battlers,” and locked horns on disc with
Dexter Gordon, Willis "Gator" Jackson, Buck Hill
and Teddy Edwards.
Remaining in Chicago to raise his family, Von played in a
wide variety of venues at home – from Calumet City strip
clubs to southside blues bars to northside jazz clubs –
before establishing his ongoing Tuesday night jam session
at the New Apartment Lounge, on a block of 75th Street renamed
“Von Freeman Way” in 2002. These sessions have
become a beacon for aspiring musicians; among those to have
“graduated” (with honors) from the New Apartment
are saxist Steve Coleman, multiple-Grammy-nominated vocalist
Kurt Elling, and Von’s own son, saxist Chico Freeman.
In the last several years, Von has also enjoyed a deepening
friendship with the acclaimed young pianist Jason Moran, who
appears on his previous Premonition release, The Improvisor.
The DownBeat Magazine cover story on Von that appeared in
early 2001 helped create a new round of publicity and excitement
about this ageless wonder’s music; recent events have
included his 80th Birthday Concert at Symphony Center, a birthday
tribute at the Chicago Jazz Festival, his honorary doctorate
from Northwestern, and a Chicago “Heroes” Award
presented by the National Academy Of Recording Arts &
Sciences. The highly anticipated release of The Great Divide
will take its place among these accomplishments.
For Von Freeman, apparently, life begins at 70 – and
really starts to move at 80.
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