Appreciation : Joe Pass, the Giant of Jazz Guitarists

There are few musicians of whom it can be said that they cannot be replaced. Guitarist Joe Pass (Joseph Anthony Passalaqua), who died Monday at the age of 65, was such a man.

His was a sharply separated career. His first decade, mainly the 1950s, was a maze of problems in which drug addiction and incarceration kept him from achieving the recognition he deserved. The turning point came with a record he made in 1961 during a stay at the Synanon Foundation, a drug treatment center. Soon afterward, his life straightened out, he became a welcome figure both in jazz clubs and in the studios for commercial dates.

Pass’ technique was so dazzling that he was compared to pianist Art Tatum; his ideas came in a constant flow. He enjoyed working with fellow guitarists, spending many memorable evenings at Donte’s in North Hollywood, in tandem with Herb Ellis.

The impresario Norman Granz discovered him in 1972; from then on he was ubiquitous, graduating from the nightclubs of Hollywood to the concert stages of the world, and recording as a virtual member of the Granz jazz family on Pablo Records.

Solo albums, duets with Ella Fitzgerald, dates with Oscar Peterson and live performances at Montreux and other festivals followed one another in such profusion that by the end of the 1980s he was the most recorded guitarist in jazz history, and arguably the most gifted.

Pass’ adaptability was legendary. Singers worshiped him; he provided accompaniments for Frank Sinatra, Billy Eckstine, Sarah Vaughan, Carmen McRae and Joe Williams. His partnership with pianists first came to prominence during two years on the road with the George Shearing Quintet, and later in international tours with various Peterson groups. His intuitive grasp of harmonic nuances made him the ideal foil for Peterson.

He had become less of a local presence in recent years after a divorce and subsequent marriage to a German citizen. Though living part time in Hamburg, he maintained his home in the San Fernando Valley.

If he seemed withdrawn and somewhat introverted, his personality still showed flashes of ironic humor. His modesty was such that he once said of his partnership with Ella Fitzgerald: “Although she’s so relaxed and easy to play for, I feel nervous, out of place with her--I mean, she’s a legend, like Louis Armstrong. She’s a part of history.”

So, now, is Joseph Anthony Passalaqua.