REVIEW JAZZ WEEKLY, GEORGE W HARRIS
This is Volume 9 of the continuing series of previously unreleased recordings of the legendary Art Pepper culled from the storage depot of his faithful wife Laurie. For my money, this is the best one yet for a couple of reasons.
Number one, it’s capturing Art Pepper during the mid 1970s when he was during his renaissance. He was trying to get his foot into the studio musician’s door, and his sound, chops and ideas are at an apotheosis. Number two, for the first time in 17 years, he’s reunited with possibly the last unique sounding tenor saxist, Warne Marsh, who was also in a revival, as he was in the chair for the highly popular Supersax band. So, for these 3 discs, you get two of the West Coast’s most personal sounding artists, captured in LA’s definitive 70s joint, Donte’s, where for five bucks and two drinks you could take in the best sounds jazz had to offer.
Pepper’s working team at the time was Mark Levine/p, John Heard/b and Lew Malin/dr (Bill Mays sits in on “Cherokee”), and the team is flexible and sharp. Levine is able to go Tyner Modal on “All the Things You Ar” and bebop with the best on the thrill rides of “Lover Come Back To Me” and ”Yardbird Suite.” Pepper is simply inspired and inspiring; he feels right at home as he slithers on vintage boppers such as “Donna Lee” and searingly agonizes on “’Round Midnight.” The real ringer is when he switches to soprano sax (!) for a highly hip “Walkin’”.
Marsh is wonderfully cerebral and icy, at times swinging like Lester Young on “Broadway” flexing muscles on “Rhythm –A-Ning” and showing his unique brand of angularity on “What’s New.” The two horns do some wonderfully weaving in and out like coalescing mists, making the time stand still as they hover over the rhythm section in vintage Tristano mode on pieces like “Here’s That Rainy Day.” Bill Mays delivers the goods on the 18+ minute “Cherokee” which closes this album. Pepper sounds like he just went 15 rounds with Oscar De La Hoya, but he’s still standing. Does anyone give his all to music like this anymore?
The two things that you’ll walk away with after listening to this gold mine of music is a) bebop is still the heartbeat of jazz, and all sounds since simply signify a slow decline b) playing like this is not learned in music schools; you’ve got to feel it, and that just ain’t in a classroom at $20,000 a semester. These guys teach what isn’t being taught.

REVIEW JAZZ TIMES, DAVID WHITEIS
This three-disc set, recorded live in 1974 at Donte’s in Los Angeles, is the latest entry in Laurie Pepper’s Unreleased Art series of posthumous releases featuring her late husband. The pairing of Art Pepper and Warne Marsh was fortuitous; they hadn’t seen each other, let alone played together, for almost 17 years. Marsh, in fact, wasn’t originally supposed to be there at all; he stepped in to sub for trumpeter Jack Sheldon. If stereotypes were to be believed, they were an unlikely pair—alto saxophonist Pepper, with his naked emotionalism, his spiky flights of exploration, his unerring swing roiled by fractured phrases; and Marsh, with his dry, oaken tenor tone, the studied logic of his lines built on chords and harmony rather than melody. The storyteller and the architect. The romantic and the rationalist. Dionysus and Apollo. Or, in the words of one “Larry,” who responded to Laurie Pepper’s Facebook request for thoughts on how the two might complement each other: “Warne was the boy next door; Art was the reason you wanted to move out of the neighborhood.”

As usual, though, stereotypes obscure more than they reveal. Pepper was an unerringly coherent soloist. Even his most torrid displays of technical and emotional fervor—or his most wounded vulnerability on ballads—were tempered with restraint, a refusal to violate the narrative arc of his storyline. Marsh, the “compulsive structuralist,” as critic Larry Kart has called him, nonetheless created music as freedom-bound and transcendent as Pepper’s.
With all that brilliance exploding in front of them, the sidemen—pianist Mark Levine, bassist John Heard and drummer Lew Malin—are relegated further than usual to the background, but their work is admirable. They avoid cliché and contribute solid support and brief, satisfying solos. Note: Bill Mays replaces Levine on the concluding “Cherokee.”
On numbers like “Lover Come Back to Me,” “Good Bait,” “All the Things You Are,” “Broadway,” “Rhythm-A-Ning,” “Yardbird Suite” and “Cherokee,” Pepper plays loose and breezy yet with a sharp edge, sardonic but never cynical, freely incorporating ideas from the multiple eras his career spanned yet beholden to none of them. Marsh, predictably, sounds more emotionally reserved, or at least cautious, but deeply soulful nonetheless. As his solos build, negotiating the songs’ harmonic angles with slyly inserted rhythmic and melodic curlicues, his ebullient swing and irrepressible joy are on display.
Pepper may well have been the supreme balladeer on his instrument, and offerings like “Here’s That Rainy Day,” “What’s New” and his signature, “Over the Rainbow,” find him coaxing deep meaning from each note, summoning intense feeling while avoiding even a hint of pandering. For his part, Marsh delivers his statements in a tone virtually vibrato-free, almost stolid, as if admitting he won’t even attempt to plumb the emotional depths mined by his colleague. His studied approach to improvising makes itself felt most strongly on these numbers. Logic doesn’t trump inspiration but grounds it; for him, control wasn’t a mark of conservatism but a proclamation of victory.
REVIEW ALL ABOUT JAZZ, C MICHAEL BAILEY
When any previously unheard Art Pepper is released, the event bears a bit of context. Laurie Pepper's Volume 9 addition to her Unreleased Art series is the 3-CD box Art Pepper & Warne Marsh at Donte's April 26, 1974. It contains music from late in Pepper's fallow period between the releases of Intensity (Contemporary, 1960) and his comeback period inaugurated by the release of Art Pepper: Living Legend (Contemporary, 1975). I mark the period by Pepper's two studio recordings of the period because they provide the perimeter for when Pepper was not in prison for his heroin addiction.
During this period, Pepper stacked time in 1960—61, 1961—64, and 1964—65, the latter two incarcerations being spent in San Quentin, where Pepper played in bands with, among other notable jazz musicians, vocalist Ed Reed, trumpeter Dupree Bolton, alto saxophonist Frank Morgan, and pianist Jimmy Bunn. An unenlightened time, to be sure, but a critical incubator period for Pepper between his martini-dry early years and his molten and corrosive late-career comeback.


This 15-year "fallow" period was not without Pepper recordings, studio or live. Pepper appears sporadically in the studio on Helyne Stewart Love Moods (Contemporary, 1961); Frankie Randall A Swingin' Touch (RCA, 1964); The Buddy Rich Big Band Mercy, Mercy (Pacific Jazz, 1968); and the Mike Vax Orchestra Evil Eyes (Artco, 1974). Several live recordings have surfaced from the period, released on Fresh Sound, where we can readily hear Pepper orbiting John Coltrane: Art Pepper Quartet '64 in San Francisco (1964) and Art Pepper Quintet Live at Donte's, Vols. 1 & 2 (1968).

Between these 1968 recordings at the LA jazz club Donte's and the present performance by Pepper and tenor saxophonist Warne Marsh, Pepper's career trajectory slope was decidedly positive and accelerating. Living Legend would be recorded just 16 months after Pepper's appearance with Marsh, an appearance that was not intended as Pepper had been appearing monthly with trumpeter Jack Sheldon at the time. On this particular date, Sheldon proved unavailable and Pepper was once again united with his most simpatico and diametrically opposed, the densely cerebral Warne Marsh.

Famously, Pepper and Marsh had recorded together nearly 20 years previously as evidenced on Art Pepper with Warne Marsh (Contemporary, 1956). It is startling to note the two very different Art Peppers appearing on these to widely separated recordings. The Contemporary set has the pre-prison/comeback Pepper, playing his coolest cool jazz: dry, often vibratoless tone, heroin-chic, dripping with sex and honey. The April '74 performance finds Pepper working out of his orbit with John Coltrane, taking his experiences with the Coltrane vision while forging what would eventually become the visceral and emotive, almost bloody, style and tone of his come back and triumph in the late '70s to his death in 1982.

Warne Marsh, for his part, on both recordings, remained as he always had: significantly influenced by his many collaborations with pianist composer Lennie Tristano. Marsh's musical approach was always one of vertical cerebral transcendence, mind-over-matter. Where Pepper would tell elaborate and affecting stories with his playing, Marsh would build skyscrapers whose musical architecture was both humorous and informed. The two saxophonists' artistic approaches are a classical pathos versus ethos dichotomy.

For a similar comparison of differing styles we also have the recordings Pepper made with saxophonist Lee Konitz, another Tristano devotee, originally released on Atlas and later as The Hollywood Allstar Sessions (Galaxy, 2001). Pepper is well into his twilight-of-the-gods period, scorching the earth even on these relaxed sides while Konitz does what he does best: think vertically and play horizontally, always surprising and delightful. Pepper's juxtaposition with Marsh and Konitz were seismic and potent reminders that music comes from both the head and the heart.

The book for this set was largely that of Pepper's. "What's New," "Here's That Rainy Day," "Lover Come Back to Me," and "Over the Rainbow" would be staples of Pepper's ballad performances while "Donna Lee," "Walkin,'" "Yardbird Suite," and "Cherokee" would be Pepper's go to cookers. The clash of approaches is captured best in the blues of "Walkin'" and the pastoral balladic of "'Round Midnight." Pepper solos concentrically like light emanating out from a bright point in all directions. Marsh's solos have a vector quality tending in one direction and then another. Marsh's approach is almost scientifically defined while Pepper's is empirically experienced.

Well supported by pianist Mark Levine, bassist John Heard (subject of Pepper's later "Blues for Heard") and drummer Lew Malin and more-than-adequately captured sonically, Art Pepper & Warne Marsh at Donte's April 26, 1974 is one more blessing from the largess of Laurie Pepper, a class act and music historian finally realized.



REVIEW AUDIOPHILE AUDITION, JEFF KROW
A blend of passion and cerebral coolness…
(Art Pepper – alto and soprano sax; Warne Marsh – tenor sax; Mark Levine- piano; John Heard – bass; Lew Malin – drums; Bill Mays – piano on “Cherokee”)
I’ve had the pleasure of listening to all nine volumes of previously unreleased live recordings of Art Pepper issued by his widow, Laurie Pepper under her own label. They cover the later years of Art’s career and display his urgency in sharing his vision even when he was in ill health and fully aware that he did not have long to live. If at all possible, Art’s playing became even more vibrant as he poured out his guts and love for the music that had sustained him when drugs and incarceration sapped his strength and well being.
The latest issue from Laurie documents a full evening at Donte’s, a jazz club in North Hollywood. Recorded in late April, 1974, from tapes of an unknown source, Art was sharing the stage with tenor saxist, Warne Marsh. Pepper had recorded with Warne back in the mid 60s but it appears that their paths did not cross often before this chance meeting, when Marsh was subbing for Jack Sheldon. Their styles would seem to not really mesh as Warne was out of the Lennie Tristano school of a cooler more cerebral sound than Pepper’s “hotter” blues based passionate playing. The liner notes make mention that there would be a meeting point between the two reed men, as both Lester Young and Charlie Parker influenced both musicians. When you have two jazz musicians of the stature of Pepper and Marsh, they have the innate ability to intuitively blend well. It is a testament to the skills of Warne Marsh, however, that he probably sacrificed more of his style/vision that evening to meet the steam roller of Pepper. Listening to the nearly three hours of music recorded that evening, Marsh certainly holds his own with Art, and often matches him in intensity (Art’s forte) chorus for chorus.
The vast majority of tunes (largely standards) exceed ten minutes and provide a chance for both gentlemen to stretch out and explore their creativity. They spar with each other, and it spurs on their improvisations to make these well known compositions “theirs” for the evening. They often mix a sweet and sour blend as Pepper brings a funky blues driven approach while Marsh, still swinging, goes in a profound, less blues based direction. Both can explore more “out” playing, and each seems up to the challenge to go where the other leads.
Based on my tastes, I thoroughly enjoyed the ballads a bit more than the off-to-the-races heaters. “What’s New” was like a contemplative walk between two soul mates as the horns play off each other. “Donna Lee” is hot bebop and Warne’s creative improvisation had Pepper on his “A” game when he sensed a challenge. Warne matched Pepper in the passion department which is a real accomplishment.
“Walkin” features Art on soprano sax, and he brings to mind a snake charmer with his keening tone. Warne’s tenor solo here is quite the opposite of the cool icy reputation of a Tristano influenced reed player. On “Lover Come Back” the saxes are like slot cars on the track in a mad sprint. “Good Bait” is another free for all, beginning loose and funky but opening boundaries as it progresses.
I will never tire of Art Pepper emoting on “Over the Rainbow.” I have heard it on most of the Unreleased Art issues and I am convinced that Art owns this classic tune. He pours out his heart each time, and this night Marsh is just as passionate. Incredible…
Other signature tracks include “Here’s that Rainy Day,” “Broadway,” and the mournful “Round Midnight,” where there is a bit of role reversal as Art explores the “bottom” of his alto while Warne takes on the upper range of the tenor. On an extended “Cherokee” Bill Mays sits in on piano and his three minute solo at the twelve minute mark is memorable.
The live recording has been digitized, edited, and mastered by Wayne Peet and it meets present acoustic standards well enough to highlight the strengths of all the musicians. The bass and drums are set back a bit but the piano skills of Mark Levine are on full display. It’s the two iconic sax men, however, whose chance meeting epitomize why we love this music so much. Thanks to Laurie Pepper for sharing the magic.

LINER...

On April 26, 1974, two wildly gifted and very different artists, Art Pepper and Warne Marsh, met again, for the first time in 17 years, by accident, on the stage at Donte?s in North Hollywood, because Jack Sheldon had to cancel. It must have made for an unforgettable night for those who found themselves sitting in the legendary club and listening to two cult heroes, two profoundly great musicians, playing for the audience and each other?out of the lives they?d lived at the same time, in the same places, but personally and stylistically so far apart.

Now we can join that audience. The music was recorded.

In 1974, Art was at the very outset of what would be his last great comeback. He?d quit his job managing a bakery and was making a living playing bar mitzvahs and weddings. He had just started playing in Jack Sheldon's band, once a month, at Donte's.

Unlike Art's, Warne?s career had been relentless and ongoing. He?d been touring with his own bands for years, and in 1974, he was traveling the world with Supersax, with whom he?d won a Grammy.

Though Warne forbade recording at his gigs, this gig was recorded. On reel-to-reel, quarter inch, quarter-track tape. The original tapes were quite good; the audio was probably picked up from the sound board. And the tapes were sent to Laurie Pepper by persons never known or now forgotten. She rediscovered them while cleaning out a closet. As she tells us in her liner note: 'Sometimes, the way things and people come to me for Art's sake is, I want to use the word, miraculous A good word for this night and those tapes. Laurie gave them to the incomparable Wayne Peet of Newzone Studio, who, "knows how jazz, how Art should sound." He balanced and enriched the onstage sound, killed excessive noise, and dealt delicately with inevitable glitches that occur in live recording. Laurie, a non-musician, goes on to talk about the Pepper/Warne distinctions in the language of a dedicated fan.

"Art lives down in the grime of earth. You can find him on the L.A. Freeway. You can get into your car, roll up the windows, put on any of Art's blues or ballads and delve into your pain and scream aloud to it.
"Warne seeks sublimity, improvising music that's transcendent, that makes mere passions puny. He can take you to a level where shit doesn't matter.
"Warne offers to distract us. He offers art, the endlessness and possibilities of art, the infinite inventiveness and charm. Something in me, if I'll listen, hears his rhythmic and harmonic revelations and responds with pleasure, satisfaction, even laughter, as to a mystic?s holy trickery."
"Art discovers, witnesses, makes us confront, the disasters and the raptures swimming through our own, shared, volatile blood, beyond the reach of language. He knows our grief, our joy, our rage, and turns them into something timeless. His music seems to talk about real, actual life, the one that's nasty, sweet, and short. And he convinces us, repeatedly, that, just as-is, it's sacred."

This latest album joins the catalog of previous albums from the Unreleased Art Pepper series. All have gotten rave reviews from well-known critics.



Liner Note: On April 26, 1974, two wildly gifted and very different artists, Art Pepper and Warne Marsh, met again, for the first time in 17 years, by accident, on the stage at Donte’s in North Hollywood, because Jack Sheldon had to cancel. It must have made for an unforgettable night for those who found themselves sitting in the legendary club and listening to two cult heroes, two profoundly great musicians, playing for the audience and each other—out of the lives they’d lived at the same time, in the same places, but personally and stylistically so far apart.

Now we can join that audience. The music was recorded. And it will be released as a 3-CD set on November 11, just in time for the anniversary of Widow’s Taste, the label Laurie Pepper started ten years ago to bring her collection of Art Pepper’s unheard live performances to his fans.

In 1974, Art was at the very outset of what would be his last great comeback. He’d quit his job managing a bakery and was making a living playing bar mitzvahs and weddings. He had just started playing in Jack Sheldon’s band, once a month, at Donte’s.

Unlike Art’s, Warne’s career had been relentless and ongoing. He’d been touring with his own bands for years, and in 1974, he was traveling the world with Supersax, with whom he’d won a Grammy.

Though Warne forbade recording at his gigs, this gig was recorded. On reel-to-reel, quarter inch, quarter-track tape. The original tapes were quite good; the audio was probably picked up from the sound board. And the tapes were sent to Laurie Pepper by persons never known or now forgotten. She rediscovered them while cleaning out a closet. As she tells us in her liner note: “Sometimes, the way things and people come to me for Art’s sake is—I want to use the word—miraculous.” A good word for this night and those tapes. Laurie gave them to the incomparable Wayne Peet of Newzone Studio, who, “knows how jazz, how Art should sound.” He balanced and enriched the onstage sound, killed excessive noise, and dealt delicately with inevitable glitches that occur in live recording. Laurie, a non-musician, goes on to talk about the Pepper/Warne distinctions in the language of a dedicated fan.

“Art lives down in the grime of earth. You can find him on the L.A. Freeway. You can get into your car, roll up the windows, put on any of Art’s blues or ballads and delve into your pain and scream aloud to it.
“Warne seeks sublimity, improvising music that’s transcendent, that makes mere passions puny. He can take you to a level where shit doesn’t matter.
“Warne offers to distract us. He offers art, the endlessness and possibilities of art, the infinite inventiveness and charm. Something in me, if I’ll listen, hears his rhythmic and harmonic revelations and responds with pleasure, satisfaction, even laughter, as to a mystic’s holy trickery.
“Art discovers, witnesses, makes us confront, the disasters and the raptures swimming through our own, shared, volatile blood, beyond the reach of language. He knows our grief, our joy, our rage, and turns them into something timeless. His music seems to talk about real, actual life, the one that’s nasty, sweet, and short. And he convinces us, repeatedly, that, just as-is, it’s sacred.”

This latest album joins the catalog of previous albums from the Unreleased Art Pepper series. All have gotten rave reviews from well-known critics. And all available here, at CDBaby.