{"id":9760,"date":"2024-10-26T23:24:30","date_gmt":"2024-10-27T04:24:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/postgenre.org\/staging\/4567\/?p=9760"},"modified":"2024-10-31T22:14:08","modified_gmt":"2024-11-01T03:14:08","slug":"jazz-master-terry-gibbs","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/postgenre.org\/staging\/4567\/jazz-master-terry-gibbs\/","title":{"rendered":"Jazz Master: A Conversation with Terry Gibbs (Part One)"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Since 1982, the National Endowment for the Arts has bestowed its Jazz Master award to living legends of the music. The designation is considered by many to be the highest honor an American jazz musician can receive. Generally, the NEA has made wise choices when selecting new Masters. Sonny Rollins<\/a> (1983), Ron Carter<\/a> (1998), George Benson<\/a> (2009), Kenny Barron<\/a> (2010), Dave Liebman<\/a> (2011), George Coleman<\/a> (2015), Dave Holland<\/a> (2017), Henry Threadgill<\/a> (2021), Stanley Clarke<\/a> (2022), Donald Harrison<\/a> (2022), Kenny Garrett<\/a> <\/a>(2023), Amina Claudine Myers<\/a>, (2024), Marilyn Crispell<\/a> (2025), and Marshall Allen<\/a> (2025) have ranked among its worthy recipients. However, the Association\u2019s process for selecting Masters is not without its faults. One of the more blatant errors lies in the failure to recognize vibraphonist Terry Gibbs. This mistake is even more evident after listening to the recent release of Terry Gibbs Dream Band Vol. 7: The Lost Tapes, 1959 <\/em>(Whaling City, 2024).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In a broad sense, Gibbs is a fascinating figure who straddled between big bands and bebop. As to the former, he worked with several names who made music that enraptured audiences in the era of swing – Benny Goodman, Tommy Dorsey, Buddy Rich, and Woody Herman. As to the latter, he worked with the founding fathers of Bop: Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie (1982). Besides Roy Haynes (1995), the vibraphonist is one of the few people still with us who played with Bird. For his groups as a leader, Gibbs refused to draw stylistic lines between the lyricism of swing and the improvisational breadth of bop. Perhaps the best-known of these was his Dream Band, a large ensemble that emphasized intricate arrangements – including those by Bill Holman (2010) – while providing space for individual expression. Between 1959 and 1961, the Dream Band released four studio recordings. However, most of its output came to light decades after the group disbanded, as live recordings were made public.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The most recent of these live releases, Vol. 7<\/em>, was a surprise recording that hid for decades. Its discovery was something of an accident. It emerged when Gibbs’ son, drummer-bandleader Gerry Gibbs, stumbled upon a file marked \u201cParty 1959\u201d on the computer where he had digitally stored all surviving tapes of the group’s performances – featuring Bob Brookmeyer, Al Cohn, and Mel Lewis, among others – from Hollywood, California in March and November of 1959. 1959 was a fascinating year musically, as it saw the fissure of bop into several different threads, from the modality of Miles to the free jazz of Ornette. Hues of another, the West Coast cool jazz most commonly identified with Dave Brubeck, is occasionally heard on Vol. 7<\/em>, as on the ingeniously arranged “Dancing in the Dark.” But more than anything else, what stands out about Vol. 7<\/em> is how thoroughly modern and contemporary it sounds. If heard blindfolded, one would likely never suspect it was recorded sixty-five years ago. The band’s approach to standards like “I’m Getting Sentimental Over You” or “Softly as in a Morning Sunrise” sound practically designed to rekindle a love in the listener for the music that hit its peak popularity generations ago. Swing and bop never died and with this release, Gibbs affirms the music’s sustained vibrancy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But the Dream Band is only part of Gibbs’ legacy. With Lionel Hampton (1988), Red Norvo, and Milt Jackson (1997), Gibbs was one of four who laid the blueprint for modern improvisation on the vibraphone. Would someone like Warren Wolf be making the same music today without him? Gibbs’ influence also extends beyond his instrument of choice. As the longtime TV bandleader for Steve Allen – and for a lesser period Regis Philbin – in some ways, he blazed a trail for someone like Jon Batiste to come to prominence. Gibbs was also at the forefront of exploring the intersection of jazz and traditional Jewish music. As Gary Giddins noted in Visions of Jazz<\/em>: The First Century<\/em> (Oxford, 1998), the record Terry Gibbs Plays Jewish Melodies in Jazztime<\/em> (Mercury, 1963) was “an appealing combination of klezmer bravado and bebop cool.” Though sounding distinctly different from anything ever released by Tzadik Records, one cannot help but wonder if there is some subtle element of Gibbs’ work in this area that shaped John Zorn’s numerous Masada offerings. Jewish Melodies<\/em> also brought the talents of a young Alice McLeod to light. And it was also through her time with Gibbs that the young pianist would be introduced to her eventual husband, John Coltrane.  All of that is before even getting into his seventeen-year working relationship with Buddy DeFranco (2006) throughout the 1980s and 1990s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We are honored to have sat down with Gibbs to discuss the Dream Band and his career more generally. This conversation occurred on October 17, 2024, four days after the legend reached his hundredth birthday. Despite this advanced milestone, Gibbs was as sharp as ever. He was even a producer on Vol. 7<\/em>. This author implores the NEA to properly recognize the contributions of this man while it still can.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

PostGenre: What does it mean to you to turn a hundred years old? <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Terry Gibbs: Numbers don’t mean anything to me. My wife passed away a year and a half ago. She was twenty-five and a half years younger than me, and we were married for forty-six years. And it is similar to the numbers for jazz musicians. I was twenty when I joined Benny Goodman\u2018s band. Benny was forty-two at the time. But after we played about four bars, we were the same age, you know? That’s what jazz does to you. It has nothing to do with race, creed, or age; when two people play together, that’s all that counts.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

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