NEW CHANT REVIVES OLD ARTISTRY IN ANDERSON

The number of today’s chanteuses still practicing the art of singing pure, straight-from-the-roots jazz has dwindled down to a precious few. Among them, the woman most likely to be overlooked is Ernestine Anderson.

She is not often mentioned in the same breath with Ella Fitzgerald and Carmen McRae, though she belongs in their elite company. Her career has been a roller-coaster ride: up in the ‘50s, touring with Lionel Hampton’s band and making her first hit record, ironically, on an album recorded with a Swedish band. Then down in the ‘60s, with scarcer jobs, a couple of mark-time years in Britain, followed by disillusionment, near suicidal depression and a series of day jobs. The fickle public had all but forgotten the winner of the 1959 Down Beat critics’ poll.

Then she discovered chanting.

“It was in 1969,” she said, during a recent engagement at Catalina’s in Hollywood, “that I was introduced to the Nichiren Buddhist religion and to its chant, Nam Myoho Renge Kyo. Before long, everything began to turn around for me.”

Essentially, she was just chanting for a chance--an opportunity to be heard. Gradually, things turned around--a call from Benny Carter for some recordings, a few dates at some of the better clubs and, in 1976, a recording contract with Concord Jazz records. Her Concord albums, released overseas, have led to extensive tours in Europe and Japan.

“I must have spent thousands of hours chanting Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, “ she says, “and it worked for me just as it has for Herbie Hancock and so many others. The chant means, roughly, devotion to the mystic laws of the universe. I have a good life now, good relationships, and things have just been getting better all the time.”

A twin, who at one time was married to a twin--trumpeter Art Farmer--Anderson was born in Houston and moved with her family, at 16, to Seattle, where she now lives with her 89-year-old mother and 91-year-old father.

What sort of musical education was available to a young black girl growing up in Texas? Anderson was fortunate. She had a solid background in religious music; her grandmothers both sang in a Baptist choir, her father sang bass in a gospel quartet and Ernestine herself sang in a church group. She listened to Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker on the radio, but along with the be-bop indoctrination, she was imbued with a feeling for the blues--”My parents loved B. B. King and Dinah Washington.”

Along with these influences there were the big bands that passed through Houston--Basie, Lunceford, Eckstine--preparing her for the jazz, pop and blues demands encountered when she worked with Lionel Hampton, Johnny Otis and, most recently, the Capp-Pierce Juggernaut band, with whom she recorded live at the Alleycat Bistro in Los Angeles for a forthcoming album.

Part of the joy of working stems from a travel schedule that would wear out a less resilient soul. “Would you believe this? A couple of months ago I went to Europe three times--to Holland, then back home to Seattle; to Finland, then home again, and to Germany, then back to Seattle a third time--all in a single month.

“It’s worth it! In Europe they still have live radio, and I was on the air with this wonderful 60-piece orchestra in Holland, with strings, a great arranger, a fine conductor. It’s a fantastic experience. Over here, I never get to do it on radio or TV.”

Japan, where she has traveled yearly, was the scene of another rare experience a few weeks ago. “They had a jazz festival at a resort town, Madaro, up in the mountains, with Dizzy Gillespie and an amazing big band that he put together for a tour. I got to sing in a finale with the band and James Moody and Branford Marsalis. I sang with Mal Waldron’s trio, Ellis Marsalis’ trio and one night with Dizzy and a small group.

“I’m going to Monterey next month for the festival, but most of the big festivals now are in Europe or Japan. Next month I’m going back to Japan with the Concord Jazz All-Stars.”

Transcending the language barrier, Anderson has turned one of her recordings into a virtual Esperanto blues hit. “Never Make Your Move Too Soon,” the title number of an album she recorded seven years ago, is a tart, teasing tune with an elongated blues melody to which she has attached a rambling rap addressed to a cynical male--”A dude with a champagne taste and a Budweiser pocketbook,” as she says in the monologue.

Living in Seattle (she moved back there some 10 years ago) has been a mixed blessing, though she has nothing but affection for the city. “It’s clean, it’s beautiful; we have a rain forest; you can drink the water; we have two 24-hour jazz radio stations nearby: one in Tacoma, the other in Bellevue.

“Musically, not enough is happening: We have only one jazz club, and there’s definitely a need for another. We have a great jazz audience that’s supportive of every function. But I don’t work there often--I’m playing the club, Jazz Alley, next month, and I do the odd concert and a lot of benefits.”

A few years ago, she was one of four partners who invested in her own club. “We called it Ernestine’s. That was a mistake; if I ever get another club, I won’t put my name on it, because I don’t need the kind of publicity that happens if a place goes under.

“As a result of being a club owner myself, I now have a healthy respect for club owners. I can see from their point of view all the problems they face. It’s 24-hour job, believe me, and you’re constantly putting money into it, trying to buy the best talent. We had to give up after about two years--I needed to get back into more singing and traveling.”

Surprisingly, she is not disillusioned and would like to try again, relying next time on someone else to take total managerial control instead of straining to do most of it herself.

Cruising through a typical set of blues, sultry torch songs and up-tempo cookers, Anderson conveys a hypnotic and sensual presence that belies her 58 years, her three children and nine grandchildren.

Perhaps it can all be attributed to the right mixture of genes, social background and a strong dose of Nam Myoho Renge Kyo.

“Yes, I really do think chanting has kept me young. I don’t worry about staying on the road, because I have that energy, that vital life force. It’s a good feeling and I hope it won’t ever leave me.”