0-Liner NotesHD724101955822
0-Liner NotesHD724101955822
0-Liner NotesHD724101955822
hubbard
pinnacle
Live & Unreleased from Keystone Korner
FEATURED ARTISTS
t was my first time in New York City. Im sitting in my dark little room in The Wellington Hotel
on 7th Ave. at 55th and the phone rings. It was Freddie, Its freezing outside! I dont know how
people live here in New York! You wanna go for a walk? I put on my old winter coat and rushed
down to the lobby. He walked out of the elevator in a sharp gray suit and hat, a big smile on his face.
He nodded towards the door, New York City! Lets go! We walked down 7th Ave. together as he
told me about some restaurants close by, both of us smiling at a couple of beautiful women walking
the other way. We stop at the corner of 53rd St., and wait for the light. Im in New York! The light
changes, and I step off of the curb to cross. In the same moment, I feel something quickly pull back
on the back of my coat; a taxi roars by, running the light. Im on the road for one day, and my boss has
already had to save my life.
After an audition and a couple of quick rehearsals, to my surprise, Id gotten the bass gig with
Freddie Hubbard. To a 19-year-old kid from suburban purgatory in L.A., this felt like the beginning of
a new life. I had listened to Freddie for years, transcribed his solos, played along with his records, and
harbored the notion that someday I might play with him. After the second rehearsal, Freddie patiently
sat at the piano, showing me how he had written one of my favorite tunes of his, then gave me my
airline ticket saying, I have to get back there early for a record date; Ill see you in New York!
To say that Freddie was a mentor is a vast understatement. His presence in my life was one of the
turning points that all restless souls wait for. Aside from showing us all what could be possible on the
trumpet, he provided a nightly environment where one could experiment and create, testing the very
limit of what one was capable of on their instrument. He had created a musical language for himself,
and was never satisfied with players around him unless they were tirelessly striving to do the same.
Freddie was several people. He was a teacher, a demon, a loyal and
kind friend, an irresponsible rogue, a generous mentor, and a merciless
taskmaster. Like Miles, whom he idolized, he had reinvented the
trumpet. He had come up from the streets of Indianapolis, through
the ranks of Art Blakeys Jazz Messengers, and risen to the top of the
New York scene, before coming to Los Angeles. He had been hazed,
headbutted, ripped off and shorted, and he wasnt going to let anyone
get through his band without letting them pay the price too.
To my mind, much of his best playing occurred outside of the
recording studio, in live settings, when the fatigue of travel on the
Larry Klein at Keystone Korner.
road had worn off the veneer of self- consciousness that we all have
to wrestle down within ourselves. This album is a good example of what might have happened on a
night when all of our defenses were down. On nights like this it felt like we were flying. Nobody ever
played the trumpet like this.
Larry Klein
Freddie Hubbard was one of the founding fathers of Keystone Korner as well as one of the artistic
pillars of this home away from home for so many jazz giants during the thousands of magical nights
in its storied 11-year run, during which time Freddie played the club over a couple of dozen times
with his own bands, and with special ensembles featuring Bobby Hutcherson, Joe Henderson, McCoy
Tyner, Cedar Walton, Eddie Gomez, Al Foster, Billy Higgins, Louis Hayes and the Heath Brothers.
Shortly after his comeback to worldwide touring and a concert at the Concord Pavilion on September
26, 1981, Miles Davis was enjoying a brief hang with Freddie in my Keystone back office after the
second set, and he told his fellow trumpeter that you may never realize it, but you are the baddest
mother****er on the planet right now. And so he was.
With all the focus on his awesome pyrotechnics and soaring sound, what was most often overlooked
about his trumpet playing was that nobody played with any more heart, soul and swing than Freddie
Hubbard. And nobody ever will.
Todd Barkan, January 2011
opened the door to Keystone Korner [on my first visit in 1976] and walked into what felt like Manhattan.
The jazz club was small and dark, and the sounds coming from the bandstandthe honks, the cries, the
sirens of the streets, the confinement and freedom of New Yorkrushed at me with such force that I
stood in the doorway as though rooted to the floor. Home. I didnt even realize how homesick I had been.
When I went back the next week to hear Elvin Jones, my friend Bob introduced me to Keystones owner,
Todd Barkan and told Todd that I should be allowed to photograph in the club. Todd agreed that I could
come in whenever I wanted, without paying, as long as I gave Todd a print of whomever I photographed.
It was an incredible offera gift, really. Elvin Jones was the first musician I photographed, and for the next
seven years, I spent two or three nights a week at the club. I wouldnt have been able to do that if Keystone
Korner hadnt been, as musicians described it, a family kind of place. I often brought my daughter with me
and she was always welcomed. When she wasnt helping collect tickets with the door-people who adored
her, she was hanging out with musicians or sleeping in the back room.
The light was atrocious in Keystone Korner. Overhead spots made hot light on the protruding planes of the
musicians faces and cut deep shadows under their eyes. I learned my craft looking at highlights and dark
places. I just worked with what I had, and learned more about the effects of light and the limits of film than I
ever would have in a classroom. I wanted to capture both the rush of being in the moment and the power of
the people creating music on stage, those great artists who were telling us all about freedom.
Wanting to be taken seriously as a photographer I established a routine that kept me in good stead with the
musicians. I knew the ways in which black musicians had been disrespected and I didnt want to contribute
to that. So I would go to the club on Tuesday night when the band opened its week-long stay, listen to
the music, introduce myself, and ask the bands permission to make photographs. The musicians seemed
genuinely pleased that I sought their consent, and nobody ever refused me. On Thursdays, I would return to
Keystone to photograph, and on Sunday, the last night of each engagement, Id bring prints for each of the
musicians, as well as one for Todd Barkan.
My one regret was that I didnt tape the stories I was privy to as I sat in the back room between and
after sets listening to the musicians talk with each other. The back room was where the elders taught the
youngsters the things theyd need to know about in addition to mouthpieces and harmony. How theyd
need to step around disharmony or become their own mouthpieces when a club owner refused to pay
them or when their bus was stuck in an Iowa snowstorm and they couldnt call Triple A. Embedded in the
musicians tales that evoked knowing laughter were the tools for hammering together an improvised life.
You couldnt make the music and survive without this knowledge and those lessons didnt come in school
or in the booksthey came from the stories shared in the club back rooms and on the back seats of buses
during the long nights the itinerant musicians traveled in order to make a living. Keystone was, for all the
musicians, a home and a haven.
Kathy Sloane
The previous article is an excerpt from My Years at Keystone, an essay which appears in Keystone Korner: Portrait of a Jazz Club, my book of oral histories and photographs.
2011 Indiana University Press. Reprinted with permission of Indiana University Press.
hanks to Todd Barkan, who has allowed us to dip into his formidable archive of jazz recordings,
we are privileged to release this recording of a true giant of jazz, the late Freddie Hubbard. I
have been a fan of Freddie ever since, at the age of 19, I booked him for a concert in the mid60s at Columbia University in New York.
There have been many recordings of Hubbard, but few show him at his absolute best like this one.
Every moment on this CD, chosen from live performances he gave at the famous Keystone Korner
Jazz Club in San Francisco in 1980, is full of the patented Hubbard passion and excitement. This
is the mature Hubbard, astounding with his amazing power and technique, with equal helpings of
inventiveness and creativity.
We feature five of Freddies original compositions,
some well known, some lesser known. We are
also thrilled to be adding to recorded history
by including his performance of John Coltranes
Giant Steps, which was never previously
recorded and released by Freddie Hubbard.
It is so important when choosing posthumous
material that the artist is respected, that the
choices made are based on quality and musicality.
Thanks to our team of Todd, David Weiss and
myself, we have created a celebration of some of
Hubbards brightest moments, which is why we call
this CD, Pinnacle.
Phil Ranelin
Photo by Warren Berman
I hope that, once you have heard this CD, you will know why Freddie Hubbard is considered by many
as the greatest jazz trumpeter ever. If you would like to learn more about this recording, please visit
our website ResonanceRecords.org where we have video interviews with three of the musicians who
perform with Freddie on this CD, Bassist Larry Klein, Pianist Billy Childs, and Trombonist Phil Ranelin, all
integral members of his longest running band. George Klabin, President, Resonance Records