AN APPRECIATION : A Passion for Music--and Life : Guitarist Tony Rizzi’s Long Career Is Remembered by Friends, Fans

When Tony Rizzi teamed with fellow guitarist and old friend George Van Eps last November at El Matador in Huntington Beach, he took advantage of Van Eps’ rich rhythmic and chordal backdrop, taking off from the familiar melodies they were playing--”Them There Eyes,” “Perdido,” “On a Clear Day”--to explore each tune’s content with crisp, sometimes quirky phrases, punctuated with a sharp burst of chords.

In effect, Rizzi, who died last week after a fall at his Huntington Beach home, gave the well-worn, well-loved material new life.

A month before his pairing with Van Eps, Rizzi had been at El Matador with his “wire choir,” a nine-piece band loaded with five guitars honoring Charlie Christian, whose own inventions on guitar, mostly with the Benny Goodman orchestra, brought the instrument into modern times.

In much the same way that saxophonists have studied each note played by the legendary Charlie Parker, Rizzi had spent years transcribing Christian’s work, turning his improvisations into arrangements for five guitars and a rhythm section.

That night at El Matador, the guitars strummed up a dense, creamy mix of themes and Christian solos. The band also paid tribute to Miles Davis, Lester Young and Parker with arrangements Rizzi had cooked up for the unusual instrumentation. The concert not only spotlighted its leader’s playing, but his sense of dedication to the music he loved so much.

The evening also brought out Rizzi’s humorous side. A sign outside the club had announced (until the mistake was noticed) that Rizzi’s group would include “special guest Charlie Christian”--quite a trick considering that Christian died in 1942 at the tender age of 25. “At least,” 68-year-old Rizzi quipped, “I wouldn’t have been the oldest guy in the band.”

In a phone conversation over the weekend, Van Eps, who had given the eulogy at Rizzi’s funeral on Friday, recalled his friend as “a strong, gentle, very intelligent person who just loved people. We played a week at Fat Tuesdays in New York a few years ago, and he would take the time to talk to total strangers who came up.”

He recalled the mid-’50s when he and Rizzi were working on the NBC series “The Swinging Years of Big Band” (Rizzi was a member of the NBC staff orchestra then) and the two of them would “find a quiet place in one of the studios and just talk and play together. He was a very bright man who had such a passion for life.”

Rizzi played on dozens of other television and movie dates--his most widely heard playing probably was on the soundtrack to “The Godfather,” where he took the mandolin lead on the movie’s well-known theme. He also contributed to the bands of Les Brown and vibraphonist Dave Pell and a host of others.

Pianist Paul Smith, who had been a friend of Rizzi since World War II when they met in the Army band at Long Beach, recalled him as “one of the best guitarists I’ve ever worked with, a man who made real contributions to the music.” Smith also remembered the Rizzi sense of humor, and told of a postcard he had received after the Army band broke up in 1945. He had been ordered into the infantry and went to Germany while Rizzi was sent to Santa Monica for R & R. Not long after his arrival in Europe, the postcard came with just a single line from his pal: “Wish you were here.”

We’ll miss seeing Rizzi, not only at his own performances but out on the club circuit where he and his wife, Laurel, would enjoy the work of his fellow musicians. Between sets, Rizzi would offer his sizable hand in greeting and would comment on what he had heard and what he had been up to recently. If we can borrow the line he sent to Smith some 45 years ago: Tony, wish you were here.