# Monk’s music will guide musicians to their philosophical centers for many years to come: Video

- Link: https://jazzblues.eu/2018/03/04/monks-music-will-guide-musicians-to-their-philosophical-centers-for-many-years-to-come-video/
- Published: 2018-03-04T11:24:39+01:00
- Author: https://JazzBlues.EU

**Thelonious Monk’s recording career as a leader only lasted twenty-four years, 
from 1947 to 1971. When it comes to horn players, most people interested in Monk
associate him with the tenor saxophone, and rightfully so as Johnny Griffin, Sonny
Rollins, John Coltrane, and Charlie Rouse stand tall in Monk’s recorded legacy. **

The alto saxophone was present from his first record as a leader, but no alto players
were able to contribute substantially beyond strong work as sidemen. Gigi Gryce 
stands out as the only alto player to play with Monk in a quartet format on a fascinating
record he led called Nica’s Tempo, which includes four Monk compositions. Trumpet
players also had difficulty establishing themselves in Monk’s world. More questions
remain as to why the alto saxophone and trumpet didn’t work as well as the tenor
in Monk’s music, but that is not my goal here. What follows is an examination of
the trumpet players that worked for Monk, both lesser and well-known, and what their
musical experience was in Monk’s musical world.

Thelonious Monk crossed paths with trumpet players at Minton’s Playhouse including
Joe Guy, Hot Lips Page, and Roy Eldridge. For his first record as a leader on Blue
Note, Monk hired seventeen-year-old alto player Danny Quebec West, cousin of Ike
Quebec. On trumpet, Monk enlisted twenty-four-year-old Idrees Sulieman (1923-2002).
Sulieman was born Leonard Graham but changed his name after joining the Muslim Brotherhood,
a radical sect of the Islamic faith. Sulieman previously played with the Earl Hines
big band while both Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie were in the ensemble. Sulieman’s
most significant solo with Monk is on the pianist’s original “Humph.” A Monk adaption
of rhythm changes, it sounds like advanced bop with some call and response built
into the melody. Sulieman had one chorus where he has control of bop language and
phrasing, with a slight strain. He is playing under the direct combined influence
of Fats Navarro and Dizzy Gillespie. At twenty-four, Sulieman had not yet created
a clear sound or identity, and in Monk’s world, he was a survivor. Ten years later
in 1957, Sulieman recorded with Coleman Hawkins on a record titled The Hawk Flies
High, adding some Clifford Brown but still not having a clear voice. Sulieman still
had an odd vibrato and peculiar tone. Having moved to Europe in 1961 Sulieman also
recorded with Eric Dolphy on sessions that were later released as the Stockholm 
Sessions. Now in a musical environment possibly even more challenging than Monk’s,
Sulieman again adapts and survives. Later on in the mid 70’s Sulieman did some recording
as a leader for Steeplechase, but he sounded nervous and seemed to be pushing too
hard. Of particular note is that the tune “Eronel,” long credited to Monk, was a
collaboration with Monk, Sulieman, and possibly Sadik Hakim. I see Sulieman as a
jazz journeyman, who worked hard and challenged himself in demanding harmonic environments
throughout his life. Playing through never-ending chord progressions as your sole
basis for improvisation is a steep hill to climb on trumpet. While Clifford Brown,
Dizzy, and later on Freddie Hubbard and Woody Shaw were masters, this obstacle may
be one reason why Sulieman remains in obscurity.

Just over a month later Monk recorded more music for Blue Note, but hired twenty-
two-year-old Sahib Shihab (Edmund Gregory) on alto and twenty-eight-year-old George“
Flip” Taitt on trumpet, again going with the bop front line format. Taitt was a 
swing trumpet player who tried to jump off a cliff into Monk’s music. He had a sound
but struggled as did seemingly everyone on some level that worked with Monk. On “
In Walked Bud,” Taitt only solos on the A section, having trouble with all the bridges
on that date. Monk wrote a complicated piece called “Who Knows?” for the session
that took eight attempts. On Taitt’s one solo chorus, like Sulieman, he survives
but has a more pressing time. The challenge of the piece is the placement of the
chords. After an opening measure of G minor 7, the next chord F Sharp 7 comes in
on the third beat of the second measure. At a fast tempo, this is an exceptionally
tricky environment to build ideas in if you’re tethered exclusively to the chord
structure. While Monk’s bop line melody zips by, the real melody is in the movement
of the chords. “Who Knows?” might better be titled “Where’s Coltrane?” who excelled
with these type of challenges. As for Taitt, Robin Kelley had no more information
on him. I hope in his musical life he found other environments to encourage his 
natural relationship with music.

Monk’s last session for Blue Note was in 1952 with Max Roach, Lucky Thompson on 
tenor, Lou Donaldson on alto, and twenty-eight year Kenny Dorham (1924-1972) on 
trumpet. Dorham had already replaced Miles Davis with Charlie Parker where he spent
a year. He came to this session with his sound and playing style intact. On “Skippy,”
Dorham handles the up-tempo “Tea for Two” chord changes with ease and sounds relaxed
despite the speed. On “Hornin’ In,” Dorham only gets to solo over the A section.
As he works through Monk’s chords, his response is not to attack, but instead to
let it happen. He doesn’t reach for over-complex ideas. It’s a Charlie Rouse approach
and keeps the vibe of the piece flowing. On the sixteen-bar piece titled “Sixteen,”
Monk mercifully calls a medium tempo for a dissonant and difficult line. Dorham 
only gets one solo chorus but takes his time, and swings with feeling. “Let’s Cool
One” has Dorham with an opening solo chorus where he sounds like Miles Davis with
Charlie Parker but with Dorham’s sound. Later on, Dorham would have to fill another
player’s shoes when he replaced Clifford Brown with Max Roach after Clifford’s tragic
death, a near impossible task. From 1958-1964 he recorded as a leader. In a continuation
of the tragic lives of jazz trumpet players, Dorham suffered kidney disease and 
was forced to curtail his playing. He worked at the post office and Manny’s Music
store while he also did some freelance writing for Downbeat, going out of his way
to condemn free jazz players, especially Giuseppi Logan in a scathing review. Dorham
succumbed to the illness in 1972 at 48 years old, truly underrated. He was one of
the trumpet players to successfully navigate a course through Monk’s music.

Next up we reach trumpet player Ray Copeland (1926-1984), recording with Monk for
the Prestige label in a quintet in 1954 while working at a day job in a paper company.
Highlights include Copeland handling a relatively brisk version of Monk’s “Hackensack”
and some choice blues phrasing on “Locomotive.” Copeland studied classical trumpet
and was eventually able to work in music full time by 1955. He had a fat, bright,
and pungent tone and had by 1954 created a style that worked for him combining bop
with some swing and blues elements. The only stylistic influences I can detect are
Charlie Shavers and Clifford Brown, but Copeland’s tone is less distinctive. He 
had a personal inner tempo and superimposed his playing on top of Monk rather than
more personal interaction. In 1957 Copeland played on a famous Monk album titled“
Monk’s Music” with none other than Coleman Hawkins and John Coltrane on tenors. 
He solos directly after Coltrane on “Well You Needn’t” and “Epistrophy.” On both
solos, Monk strolls leaving Copeland in a trio format where Art Blakey generates
an enormous feeling of swing. In Robin Kelley’s book on Monk, we learn that Monk
warned Copeland that elaborate runs in the upper register were impractical because
it left him no time to breathe. Monk would later say that extreme range playing 
took away Dizzy’s tone. Copeland also worked with Monk outside the studio on live
dates. In 1957 he recorded a record with Phil Woods, where he continues to reach
into the upper register where he escapes all of his influences. On “Green Pines,”
he uses a Harmon mute but plays as if he is playing an open horn, dodging the penchant
of players for playing a Miles type number. In the process, he sounds more like 
Lee Morgan who played with a Harmon mute loud and directly into the microphone, 
whereas Miles played softly. In 1964, Copeland recorded with pianist Randy Weston
where he sounds like Jon Faddis when Faddis doesn’t play like Dizzy Gillespie, though
Faddis didn’t start recording until 1969! On flugelhorn, Copeland dodges his influences.
Playing flugelhorn is choosing to embrace sound over range, except in the case of
Red Rodney who was able to do both.

In 1967 Monk insisted to George Wein that Copeland join a European tour as part 
of a larger ensemble over Clark Terry. Both Copeland and Terry ended up with Monk
in a nonet performance captured on November 3rd of that year in Paris with interesting
results. Throughout the concert there is creative tension between Monk and Copeland.
On “We See,” Copeland starts his solo without Monk behind him and uses the melody
but on the bridge resorts to total and aggressive chord change outlining. He then
enters a type of abyss where he vacillates between fast playing and upper register
explorations that don’t sound connected to the melody or Monk himself. On “Epistrophy,”
Copeland switches to flugel. On his solo, Monk tries to connect with him but it 
sounds like they each can’t hear or aren’t listening to each other, much like a 
musical disagreement. Copeland ends up going his own way, but has a hard time owning
the situation like Johnny Griffin. On “Oska-T,” Copeland and Monk can’t connect 
and the modal environment seems to feel uncomfortable for Copeland, whose playing
style is based on more distinct chordal movement. Jimmy Cleveland gives us a rare
chance to hear a trombone solo with Monk. He starts off very relaxed, almost too
much, then switches to high range and fast technical playing, almost in retaliation
against himself, or perhaps he just changed his mind or suddenly felt a different
gear. Clark Terry later solos on “Evidence,” mostly in a trio format in one of the
most adventurous solos of his career. Clark uses his technique, sound and style 
aggressively challenging his own boundaries, validating Charles Mingus’ claim that
with Clark he could make the quintessential avant-garde album. Clark returns to 
solo on “Blue Monk” using his plunger where he and Monk connect effectively while
both being true to themselves. The blues of course become the common ground that
seems to unite all jazz musicians. Throughout this concert there seems to be a creative
tension between Monk and all the horn players. As the horns are placed or pushed
outside their comfort zones, they respond with technical assaults, trying to overcome
the tension with virtuosity.

Getting back to Copeland, he was also a teacher and composer, premiering his “Classical
Jazz suite in six movements” at Lincoln Center in 1970. In 1974 he published a book
called the Ray Copeland Approach to the Creative Art of Jazz Improvisation. Copeland
was also the musical director of the great album by Archie Shepp titled Attica Blues.
Mr. Shepp told me that he had enormous respect for Copeland and at one point they
both had to overcome physical diversity that challenged their embouchures. A last
shocking fact is that while appearing on 101 recordings, Copeland never recorded
as a leader. His son was the late drummer Keith Copeland.

Donald Byrd (1932-2017) holds a unique place in jazz history. Before he recorded
with Monk’s ten-member ensemble at a live concert at Town Hall in 1959 for Riverside
records at twenty-six years old, he had already recorded seven albums as a leader
and appeared as a sideman on over fifty recordings. Byrd was in huge demand as a
sideman who began recording at twenty-three in 1955. He could adapt to the music
of many different musicians and bring his version of bop with a unique tone and 
pacing. On “Sweet Sapphire Blues” as a sideman with John Coltrane, he plays an almost
five-minute solo where he attempts Coltrane’s sheets of sound on trumpet. Especially
interesting is what happened when Byrd entered Monk’s house. According to Robin 
Kelley’s research, Monk was especially hard on Byrd, telling him not to play so 
loud like he was playing alone, and especially not to solo exclusively on the changes.
When Byrd questioned him as to why, Monk told him to focus on the melody. During
the Town Hall concert, Byrd seems to be on the fence between his approach and Monk’s
perspective. On “Friday The Thirteenth,” Byrd takes his time and plays his with 
his sound and style, adapting to the environment, but he only has to play over four
descending chords. The melody is a type of haunting bop line that lets Byrd remain
intact. On “Little Rootie Tootie,” Byrd plays the changes clean and fast but is 
unable to utilize the melodic content. When Monk lays out towards the end of the
solo, Byrd continues playing the changes where that may have been the opportunity
to play more melodically. On “Off Minor,” Byrd takes a Charlie Rouse approach but
the changes playing is still apparent. Monk again gives him a trio section halfway
through his solo, but he continues to outline the changes. The challenge remains
to any musician playing Monk’s music to use the melody as the primary basis for 
improvisation. The key may be that Monk’s songs contain a unique rhythmic swing 
that can be used as a basis for the improvisation, instead of being compelled to
spell out each chord change. From 1958 to 1976 Byrd recorded almost exclusively 
for Blue Note and also became an educator. During the 70’s Byrd made a surprising
turn to a rhythm and blues focus into a form of pop-jazz that sold quite well, using
his students from Howard University that eventually formed a separate project called
the Blackbyrds. Byrd did return to straight-ahead playing part-time while continuing
to teach in the final stage of his life.

None of the trumpet players that worked for Monk reached as deep an immersion level
as Thad Jones (1923-1986). Thad hailed from the famous jazz family in Detroit with
his older brother, pianist Hank Jones, and younger brother, drummer Elvin Jones.
He became famous with the Count Basie Orchestra as a featured soloist and arranger
where he worked from 1954-1963. During this period, Jones recorded as a leader on
trumpet for Charles Mingus’ Debut label in 1954 and Blue Note in 1956. In 1959, 
Orrin Keepnews from Riverside records and Monk agreed to add thirty-six year old
Thad to Monk’s group, with exciting results. In Robin Kelly’s book on Monk, Monk
is quoted as saying Jones was a better trumpet player than Miles Davis. The record,
titled Five by Monk by Five, features Jones extensively as well as tenor saxophonist
Charlie Rouse. Known to switch between trumpet, flugelhorn, and cornet, Jones brought
his cornet where his crisp, burnished, crackling and fat tone brought out a personality
in Monk’s music unlike anything in Monk’s other recorded work. Throughout the date,
Jones becomes the leading melodic voice. During Jones’s solos, Monk often starts
comping, and then leaves Jones in a trio format. Monk does this to trumpet players
quite often. On “I Mean You,” Jones has a second solo in trio format where he slowly
adds and builds into a display of his power from his big band work. The solo is 
a masterpiece of tension and release as if arranged for a large ensemble. On “:Ask
Me Now,” Jones’s melodic lead voice on a Monk ballad is another prominent feature.
Throughout the recording, Jones maintains his identity while successfully navigating
Monk’s compositions, all without being compelled to outline each chord change. In
1963, forty year old Jones was hired and featured in a Monk led big band in a live
concert at Lincoln Center. This performance is the quintessential moment for Monk
in his relationship with the trumpet, again with Jones on cornet. Jones plays so
much he could have received featured billing. On the opening piece “Bye-ya,” after
a one minute statement of the melody, Jones plays the first solo of the concert,
lasting a full three minutes. Halfway through Monk lays out giving Jones a trio 
format, where Jones’s lyricism is only enhanced, as he is in total control. On the
following piece, “I Mean You,” after a one minute statement of the melody, it is
Jones again with a lead off solo lasting three minutes. This time Jones has an orchestrated
big band background to play over where he sounds especially comfortable, and it’s
seen that the band’s rehearsal time paid off. Monk comps for a chorus and again 
leaves Jones in a trio formation where he is able to convey the melody. Jones solos
again on “Evidence” showing how though improvised, his solos can be seen as complete
arrangements after he plays them. He uses contrasts in volume and tempo in sections
to great effect. On Monk’s response to modal playing titled “Oska T.,” Jones demonstrates
the power of playing this way at a simmering tempo rather than a boil. Essentially
a vamp in A-flat concert, Jones serves up a clinic on brass technique with a no-
pressure delivery. The environment enables Jones to sift through his style to his
center where he has a song that he sings that is the underlying foundation of all
of his work, his core lyricism being revealed. On “Four In One,” after a one-minute
arrangement of the theme, Jones again takes the lead solo. He plays in a way where
his tone leads the notes, even while playing fast. Here he utilizes the difficult
melodic material. Jones constructs lines that are clear, concise, and precise while
using chord extensions very effectively. Jones is revealed to be the most successful
brass player to work with Monk by swinging and using the melody while improvising
creative new ideas in his voice. You can hear the chord changes, but he is never
restrained by them. In 1965 Jones formed a very successful big band with drummer
Mel Lewis. In 1978 Jones moved to Denmark and led a big band called Eclipse from
1979-1984. He returned to the United States to lead the Basie orchestra in 1985,
but ill health had him return to Copenhagen where he died from Cancer in 1986 at
63 years old. Two records that Jones played on as a sideman to incredible effect
are The Hawk Swings with Coleman Hawkins and Ca’Purange with Dexter Gordon.

Before the Monk big band date with Thad Jones, Monk recorded a live record in 1960
and hired trumpeter Joe Gordon for the record titled Thelonious Monk at the Blackhawk
on Riverside. Harold Land also joined the group, now with two tenors including Charlie
Rouse. Here we have a chance to hear a trumpet player live in a small band format
with Monk who included a standard and his own classic “‘Round Midnight.” Joe Gordon
was a talented bop player with a touch of swing thrown in. He played in the Dizzy
Gillespie big band and had the opening solo on a “Night In Tunisia” before Lee Morgan.
He also worked for Horace Silver. Gordon recorded an album as a leader at twenty-
six years old in 1954 for the EmArcy label. Charlie Rouse was on tenor which most
likely led to the Monk collaboration as Gordon was living in Los Angeles when Monk
traveled out to the west coast to San Francisco. Playing with Monk, Gordon maintained
his almost complete reliance and focus on straight ahead bop. He possessed excellent
ears and musicality and achieved real interaction with Monk on “San Francisco Holiday,”
also known as “Worry Later.” On “I’m Getting Sentimental Over You,” Gordon maintains
his bop prime bop directive with a solo containing no tension and no change in dynamics,
a common trait in his music overall. On Monk’s “Evidence,” he plays a solo section
where Monk leaves him alone in a trio format battling talking customers. His clear
ideas swing, again with no tension as if he were seeking a form of perfection. The
question remains, did Gordon not hear tension? On “‘Round Midnight,” Gordon plays
bop at a slower tempo, with his tone more exposed and revealed. In 1961, Gordon 
had one more record as a leader titled Lookin’ Good for Contemporary. He appeared
on thirty-five records between 1951-61 and also lived to thirty-five. He died in
a fire in 1963. His music was like a pure extraction and amalgam of the bop style
used by Fats Navarro, Clifford Brown, Lee Morgan, Red Rodney, and Miles Davis while
being slightly less organic.

The last trumpet player to be hired by Thelonious Monk was Lonnie Hillyer for a 
concert at Carnegie Hall in 1976, but unfortunately, there was no recording made.
Hillyer (1940-1985) was another bop trumpeter who liked to take his time and also
throw in some slightly restrained blues. He spent most of his recording career with
Charles Mingus and had no dates as a leader. On a record Mingus titled My Favorite
Quintet, Hillyer has a lengthy solo on a piece titled “So Long Eric” where he begins
playing entirely solo introspective solemn blues before the rhythm section erupts
into different tempos. Somehow, Hillyer refuses to engage them and continues as 
if he were observing rather than participating in a musical paradox of sorts, as
if he were in another space and time. The level of caution in which he approached
Monk is unknown, but regardless, his musical honesty deserves respect. At thirty-
three he retired from active playing and was a teacher for the final decade of his
life, falling to Cancer in 1985 at forty-five years old.

Throughout my study on Monk’s trumpets, I’m not trying to disregard Clark Terry’s
album with Monk as a sideman In Orbit, that is often credited to Monk as the leader.
Dizzy Gillespie, the unofficial leader of George Wein’s Giants Of Jazz tour that
included Monk had a long and personal history with Monk that deserves further study.
Miles Davis’s relationship with Monk deserves further research. Benny Harris crossed
paths with Monk while recording with Coleman Hawkins. Trumpeter Vic Coulson replaced
Benny with Hawkins and was a favorite of Monk’s who went on record crediting Coulson
with new directions in music and saying he found his phrasing more interesting than
Dizzy. Descriptions of Coulson’s style are low-key, understated, impeccable, and
even neat. Charlie Parker was quoted as saying Coulson played things he never heard
before, citing him as an inspiration to pursue his music. In 1945 it was believed
that Coulson was overcome by alcoholism and he faded into legend. Finally, Nick 
Travis (1925-1964) was a sideman on Monk’s 1963 big band recording on Columbia, 
but he took no solos. Travis was primarily a big band and studio musician, though
he appears on a TV Show called Jazz Party in a staged battle with the great cornetist
Rex Stewart playing “There Will Never Be Another You.” Travis plays a down-the-middle
no-risk Dizzy influenced style while Stewart was borderline playing free improvisation.
Both of them are very much into their cigarettes. Travis suddenly died from a problem
with ulcers at the age of only 38 years old.

What I believe it revealed in this examination is that Monk had a unique understanding
of the trumpet, in some ways more than the players themselves. As revealed recently
by his son T.S Monk, the trumpet was his father’s as well as his own first instrument!
At the core, a common challenge that all trumpet players face is how the technical
difficulties of the instrument work in the context of playing chord changes. The
harmonic world of Thelonious Monk deepens this challenge. The trumpet is known as
the melody instrument, but in Monk’s world, many musicians let the chord structure
lead the way, often not realizing that Monk’s harmonic movement is melodic as well.
Monk’s melodies are often so personal and pianistic that one wonders how they can
be translated, or spoken on trumpet. Thad Jones emerges as the trumpet player who
went deeper than all others. Still, no trumpet player reached Charlie Rouse’s status
as the lone horn on extensive recordings and live performances. The tenor just seems
to naturally sound correct in Monk’s music with its particular range and sound. 
Of course, it’s more than the instrument; it was Charlie Rouse himself who made 
it work, partially because while he was present, the musical spotlight was still
on Monk himself. John Coltrane and Johnny Griffin had a way of pulling the ear in
their direction. Here in 2017, in my own Harmelodic Monk project, I’m seeking a 
new perspective on Monk’s music based entirely on melody. I believe Monk’s music
to contain secrets to the inner workings of jazz that scholarship cannot teach, 
secrets that can only be reached by playing. I imagine Monk’s music will guide musicians
to their philosophical centers for many years to come. As Monk himself said, he 
liked all instruments as long as they were played right.

![Image result for Thelonious Monk](https://i0.wp.com/www.zocalopublicsquare.org/
wp-content/uploads/2009/10/monkchill.jpg?w=640)

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