Side A

JAZZ AT THE PLAZA (Straight No Chaser)

MY FUNNY VALENTINE

Side B

IF I WERE A BELL

OLEO

The Miles Davis Sextet: Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Julian "Cannonball" Adderley, Bill Evans, Paul Chambers, and

Philly Joe Jones.

"Come to a Jazz Party," the invitation read. At Five. At The Plaza. It was sent to as many of our friends as we could crowd into the Edwardian Room. The occasion was the healthy state of jazz at Columbia Records. The reason was our pride in this pre-eminence. The year was 195s.

This was a time, if you'll remember, when jazz was everywhere. Each new album by Miles and Brubeck and Garner hit the charts and moved up. Spring and fall were the seasons for college tours, and jazz on the campuses had almost replaced foot ball. Summer was festival time from Newport to Monterey, and jazzmen played in sea breezes until they were almost healthy. In between, the insatiable European market for jazz provided an annual tour for anyone ready to go. Jazz, immensely popular, wholly respectable, had been everywhere and would go anywhere.

But in all its glory, jazz had never been to The Plaza. Until that afternoon the loudest sounds in the Edwardian Room had been the ping of thin teacups on proper saucers and the whine of a violin in the corner. No tray would dare to drop. Yet, to that discreet corner of New York came Duke and Miles and Rushing and Lady Day, and the sounds were not discreet.

And our guests came too. It's not unusual for a record company to present its artists in live perforrnance these days, but in those days it was. The fact that the affair was recorded was fortunate, but it was not a record session. It was a party. We taped

it because we wanted to remember it, in case it never happened again. It hasn't.

The bandstand consisted of carpeted risers facing 5sth Street and was cluttered with the baggage of the Ellington bus. There the Miles Davis Sextet, like six stragglers from a larger band, took up the cause, while Plaza waiters took up the orders. The sextet of that era consisted of John Coltrane, tenor saxophone, Julian "Cannonball" Adderley, alto saxophone, Bill Evans, piano, Paul Chambers, bass, "Philly" Joe Jones, as distinguished from "Chicago" Jo Jones, drums, and, of course, the great trumpet player himself. It was the group Miles brought to the charts with such hits as "Kind af Blue," and in all of the Miles metamorphoses, it is the one most fondly remembered. Its repertoire was a baffling combination of highly complex originals and improbable pop tunes, but, if Miles laughed at the titles, he played his version of the melodies wild.

So came the Davis set at The Plaza, beginning with an original called "Jazz at The Plaza" to introduce everybody and following with "My Funny Valentine" without saxophones. I don't suppose anyone has heard "If I Were A Bell" lately. It's from Guys And Dolls, and it wasn't meant to last, but jazz players have a way of rescuing songs by sheer perverseness. Who would have expected to hear "Who's Afraid of The Big Bad Wolf?" by Ellington or "Russian Lullaby" shouted by Jimmy Rush mg? Or, for that matter, "Someday My, Prince Will Come" in a less than Snow White version by Miles Davis?

The Davis set at The Plaza continued to applause into the early evening and ended with "Oleo," which gave everybody one more chance. The party was in full swing. Outside the tall windows people were hurrying home, their faces set, their shoulders hunched. Not even the sound of a trumpet in the Edwardian Room could distract a New Yorker at cocktail time.

At least four jazz groups were born out of this sextet of stars. Like Ellington, Miles has always been more interested in the next sound than the last. Yet, at that time and in that place, what we heard was not to come again. The first half of our jazz party still sounds as if we all enjoyed ourselves.

-Irving Townsend