The Big-Band Survival Kit

The big jazz band is, as always, the symphony orchestra of jazz. Its sectional groupings of trumpets, trombones, saxophones and rhythm have provided composers and arrangers with an extraordinary musical palette of an almost infinite array of timbral sounds, colors, harmonies and rhythms.

In the 75 or 80 years since the instrumentation became established, it has generated music of every manner--much of it well beyond the limits of jazz. It would not stretch credibility to suggest that this unique musical collective can actually be described as the symphony orchestra not only of jazz, but of 20th century American popular music.

Consider some of its achievements. Duke Ellington’s orchestra comes to mind immediately, of course, with its nearly 50 years of magnificent work. But there’s much more. Add the organizations led by Fletcher Henderson, Count Basie, Jimmie Lunceford, Benny Goodman, Woody Herman, Artie Shaw, Stan Kenton, Dizzy Gillespie and Gerry Mulligan, and the surface has barely been scratched.

Toss in the more inventive big swing bands--Glenn Miller, the Dorsey Brothers, Harry James, Claude Thornhill, Gene Krupa, etc.--add such special projects as the Gil Evans and Miles Davis collaborations, and bring it up to date with the Maria Schneider Jazz Orchestra, the Clayton-Hamilton Jazz Orchestra and the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra, and there are still dozens of worthy names that have been left off the list.

Yet, given the vital role that these ensembles have performed in America’s musical history, they continue to face grave difficulties in simply surviving on the contemporary cultural scene.

In recent months, for example, two high-visibility large groups have taken major hits: Carnegie Hall management has elected to discontinue its support of the Carnegie Hall Jazz Band, and the Los Angeles Philharmonic has not renewed the contract of the Clayton-Hamilton Jazz Orchestra as the Hollywood Bowl’s resident jazz ensemble. (The Carnegie band’s presumed final tour brings it, along with the Clayton-Hamilton ensemble, to the Bowl on Aug. 21)

Beyond Wynton Marsalis’ well-funded Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra, in fact, the number of financially stable big bands performing on a regular, continuing basis is abysmally small.

True, numerous so-called “ghost big bands”--groups using the names and the music of departed bandleaders--still tour the country. (A typical example, the Glenn Miller Orchestra, performs at the Bowl on July 10.) But these are essentially nostalgia acts, different only in musical style from Beatles look-alike groups.

What’s the problem? Why has the U.S., which has been responsible for both the origination and the creative expansion of the big-band format, had so much difficulty in sustaining it?

There are several reasons. The first is financial: Lacking governmental or corporate sponsorship, the cost of salaries, maintenance and travel for an ensemble of 16 to 20 musicians can quickly rise to astronomical heights--considerably beyond the payroll of a five-piece rock ensemble (assuming it’s not the Rolling Stones).

The second reason is small groups’ great success in using technology to simulate some of the textural qualities of big band music (although rarely in musically convincing fashion). The orchestra for the annual Grammy Awards, for example, has shrunk from a large ensemble structured around big band instrumentation to a mini-band with a small contingent of horns “enhanced” by electronic instruments.

The third reason is more subtle, directly connected to the simple entertainment-world fact that styles and preferences change. The ragtime music of the early 20th century gave way to the New Orleans music of the Jazz Age ‘20s, followed by the swing bands of the ‘30s and ‘40s, the doo-wop of the ‘50s, the rock of the ‘60s, the disco of the ‘70s, and the rhythm & blues, hip-hop, rap, female divas and boy bands of succeeding decades.

And the fourth reason--closely related to the ascendance of small groups and the advent of electronics--is the unfortunate manner in which big bands are generally presented in live performances. Subject to sound technicians who often are more familiar with rock music than horn bands--with enough microphones to completely manipulate an ensemble’s audio character--the resulting music can bear little resemblance to what the musicians had in mind.

In one recent example from a Playboy Jazz Festival performance, the Count Basie Orchestra, which is famous for the subtle, almost subliminal presence of a guitar in the rhythm section, was amplified so that the guitar was raised to a level higher than the trumpet section. That’s not exactly the best way to introduce new listeners to the beauties of Basie’s music.

So, if they cost a ton to maintain, are impractical, stylistically out of touch with current musical tastes and rarely heard in proper fashion, wouldn’t it be appropriate to simply view big bands as dinosaurs? Not any more than it would be to view the classical symphony orchestra as a worn-out vestige of 19th century European culture. And that, apparently, is not the case, because virtually every major city in America manages to support a symphonic ensemble.

Without in any way diminishing the obvious importance of the master classical composers, doesn’t it seem a bit odd that so much funding is available to ensure that their music is heard in its most pristine form, while so little is a devoted to guaranteeing the continued availability of works by Duke Ellington, Billy Strayhorn, Fletcher Henderson, Don Redman, Sy Oliver, Benny Carter, Quincy Jones, Bill Holman, Pete Rugolo, Gerry Mulligan, Thad Jones, Frank Foster, Gil Evans, Gary McFarland and dozens of others?

Commonly referred to as “America’s classical music,” jazz shouldn’t have to take a backseat. Solutions are possible, but time is not on the side of delay.

The answers to how to preserve and cherish this music already exist. Marsalis’ efforts at Lincoln Center--a resident orchestra that records and tours regularly--provide a powerful blueprint for engaging corporate, business and government entities in the support of jazz. Because New York City is obviously different from, say, Chicago or Los Angeles, Marsalis’ methods will have to be modified to adapt to local conditions. But there is plenty of backing available in most major cities to support the establishment of resident big bands. Making the case to potential sponsors will require the same combination of business savvy and creative justification that Marsalis has established at Lincoln Center.

It will also take some imaginative, blue-sky risk-taking. Let’s take a look at the local scene, for example. This afternoon and evening, the Playboy Jazz Festival presents the second day of its 24th annual event at the Hollywood Bowl. Only two big bands were scheduled: the Charles Mingus Big Band and the Count Basie Orchestra. Yet Playboy founder Hugh Hefner has often noted his affection for and allegiance to big jazz bands.

Given that affinity and Playboy’s long dedication to jazz, why not consider the establishment of a Playboy Big Jazz Band? With Hefner’s blessing, a virtual all-star ensemble could be established, performing an annual concert season, preserving the enormous existing repertoire while remaining responsive to new works by young composers. What better way to underscore the importance of the big jazz band in American culture, while simultaneously honoring Hefner’s memories of his musical youth.

What about the Philharmonic? Yes, it deserves credit for the three-year Hollywood Bowl presence of the Clayton-Hamilton Orchestra. But why stop now? With Walt Disney Concert Hall soon to open, there would seem to be plenty of opportunity to further explore the creation of a permanent Los Angeles jazz orchestra--either through Clayton-Hamilton or a new entity. Southern California’s jazz history, from the Central Avenue years to the present, has been filled with big band achievements. The Philharmonic is the ideal entity to create an ensemble dedicated to the perpetuation of those achievements and the presentation of newly composed music for this vital instrumental collective.

There are other options, as well. The Luckman Jazz Orchestra at Cal State Los Angeles is a fine ensemble, hampered by an unfortunate lack of funding, but perfectly capable--given appropriate financing--of producing six to eight imaginative concerts annually under the creative direction of James Newton. Dozens of other bands assemble on an ad hoc basis from time to time, usually dedicated to the writing of a single composer, but occasionally--as in the case of the Frankie Capp Juggernaut--focused on keeping the jazz repertoire alive.

Any local solution to the problem of sustaining big band music will have to overcome the balkanization of the Southern California jazz community, with its numerous conflicting interests and agendas. But the results would surely justify whatever efforts may be required to maintain and enhance an ensemble that has provided the soundtrack for so much of 20th century American life.