Author: Brandon

In a previous post, I paid homage to American jazz accordionist Frank Marocco, who grew up in the swing era and drew from the great American songbook throughout his career. Today’s post looks at the great Dutch accordionist Johnny Meyer, who preceded Frank Marocco by a generation and helped to establish swing accordion in Europe.

 

In a small park in Amsterdam near the Prinsengracht canal, across the street from an upscale “coffeeshop”, children play and shuffle through fallen leaves. Business as usual in the Jordaan, this rugged one-time working-class neighborhood. What makes this park stand out, even in a city like Amsterdam, are the watchful statues of old Jordaan’s favorite musicians. While these statues may only receive passing interest from today’s tourists and playground enthusiasts, I have come here to pay my respects to one of the earliest and greatest proponents of swing accordion in Europe, Johnny Meyer, forever chomping on his cigar and unleashing wild improvisational lines on his Accordiola button accordion.

 

WHO WAS JOHNNY MEYER?
Johnny Meyer (alternately spelled Meijer or Meier) was born on October 1, 1912 in Amsterdam. He began to play accordion as a child and was playing in Dutch big bands before the Second World War. The immediate post-war years appear to have been fertile for Johnny Meyer and the liberating sound of his swing accordion, and he recorded many swing standards and received several accolades in the 1950s. Like so many other professional accordionists, Johnny Meyer’s recording output and performances after the golden years of the 1940s and ‘50s appear to have received a set back by the arrival of rock-and-roll in the early ‘60s.

A compilation album from this later period, but featuring songs recorded from 1952-1957, illustrates his devotion to the swing genre – and indicates that the record label thought that it would sell better with a little bit of cheesecake ! Although he toured Europe, he is mostly known for performing within his home country. A lifelong musician, Johnny Meyer spent his final years playing occasional jazz gigs around Amsterdam. He passed away on January 8, 1992. See American jazz accordionist Art van Damme paying his respects at Johnny Meyer’s grave, which features a wonderful headstone carved like an accordion!

JOHNNY MEYER’S SOUND
For me, Johnny Meyer’s style is firmly rooted in the swing era tradition of clarinetist Benny Goodman, one of the top performers from the era. This was the case for many early swing accordionists, since there were no jazz accordion precedents – no surprise then that Meyer’s solos bring Goodman to mind, or even pianist Teddy Wilson! An early example of Johnny’s mastery of the swing idiom can be heard in this recording of Tea for Two. Although the video was obviously recorded after the accompanying soundtrack, it is a delight to watch Johnny’s right hand glide effortlessly over the buttons of his keyboard as he executes smooth glissandi. This is used to great effect in the live video of Sweet Georgia Brown, where he alternates “Goodmanian” single-note lines with glissandi that erupt into chords, culminating in some seemingly impossible chord melodies (near the 2:30 mark)!
It is important to note that Johnny Meyer remained faithful to the swing style through the end of his life (in addition to recording more “popular” music too), which can be contrasted with Benny Goodman, who did make an excursion into bebop territory when it became more fashionable. Nevertheless, Johnny Meyer apparently had a sense for more modern harmonies, as he beautifully presents in the introduction to Polkadots and Moonbeams, recorded in 1988.
Thankfully, Johnny Meyer left behind a considerable discography for new fans of jazz accordion to discover. A good introduction to his swing era recordings can be found on Volume 3 (aka “Rebop Continental”) of the 4-CD set “Squeeze Me: The Jazz And Swing Accordion Story” (Proper Music).

There seems to be no shortage of good European jazz accordionists these days. Indeed, the case could be made that Europeans are more supportive of the accordion as a legitimate jazz instrument than North American audiences. Personally, I have made every effort to not only see any French jazz accordionist that comes my way, but also to meet and chat with this artist, a list that now includes Richard Galliano, Daniel Mille, Vincent Peirani, Marcel Azzola, Didier Ithursarry, Lionel Suarez, and David Rivière.

During my stay in Germany, I questioned how I could keep up this pace of seeing great jazz accordionists. For starters, the only German jazz accordionist I had previously heard of was Klaus Paier (who has written a pretty handy jazz accordion reference book), and as it turns out he is Austrian, not German! My hopes thus turned to seeing some of my favorite French artists on tour in Germany, which is a risky bet because France has a robust summer festival circuit, and after that who wants to tour northern Europe in the winter?

So, it was with great pleasure and surprise that I recently discovered a German accordionist. Jörg Siebenhaar leads ‘Accordion Affairs’, and the project truly has the feeling of a family affair as Jörg, who is blind, is warmly accompanied up to the stage by his friend and double bassist, Konstantin Wienstroer, followed by drummer Peter Baumgärtner. The audience is in for a big surprise though, when the trio starts to play … as a quartet! Rather than doubling on accordion and piano by switching back and forth between the two instruments, Jörg, seated at a piano, plays the accordion and the piano simultaneously. Watch this live video of Jörg Siebenhaar’s original composition Elle to see how he accompanies his own accordion lines (played by his right hand) with piano chords on his left hand.

While many keyboardists can play two keyboards simultaneously (click here to see Cory Henry’s interpretation of Giant Steps using two Moog keyboards) and the right side of Jörg’s accordion is effectively a vertical piano keyboard, a great amount of finesse and coordination is still required from the left hand to operate the bellows and provide articulation. So how is this accomplished, when the left hand is actively providing accompaniment on the piano? When I saw Accordion Affairs perform live, I observed that Jörg keeps his left hand within the bellows wrist strap, which allows manipulation of the accordion bellows. In addition, his accordion shoulder straps are fastened quite loosely. Consequently, there is much more shifting of the hips, thighs and legs to keep the accordion balanced while playing left-hand piano lines.

Interestingly, Jörg Siebenhaar is not the only artist to simultaneously play the accordion and piano. Fellow jazz accordion aficionado David Magliozzi has pointed out to me that Plamen Karadonev, a Bulgarian jazz pianist/accordionist living in the Boston area, is also noted for this (click here to watch Plamen perform For Miles).

The Accordion Affairs trio has published one CD, Elle, which I recommend for its lush melodies and perfect group interactions. Aside from the main title composition, another highlight on the album is Richard Galliano’s jazz-waltz, Laurita. The album was released in 2016 on JazzSick Records and comes with German/English liner notes that provide some insight into each track.

Do you know of other accordionists that accompany themselves on the piano? Or can you recommend other German jazz accordionists to listen to? I would love to hear from you!

Why should a review of a French mystery novel about electric guitars appear on the Anglophone website of an accordionist/bassist? In a general sense, the recent French novel “Vintage” by Grégoire Hervier artfully conveys what can be hard for a musician to express: how somewhere there may be that unique instrument that feels right in your hands and responds to your musical thoughts.

 

In “Vintage”, 26-year-old Thomas embarks on a wild quest for a Gibson Moderne, a mythical electric guitar that may or may not have existed. Thomas, erstwhile guitarist in a French rock band and occasional music journalist, is filling in at a Parisian vintage guitar shop when the owner sends him to personally deliver a rare Gibson Les Paul guitar to a new client living on the shores of Loch Ness. Thomas arrives with guitar in hand only to discover that the mysterious client is a Scottish Lord residing in Boleskine House. Past residents of this manor include Aleister Crowley and Jimmy Page, and this intersection of the dark arts with popular music vis-à-vis the electric guitar effectively establishes the novel’s atmosphere.

After delivering the Les Paul guitar, Thomas is invited to see the mysterious Lord’s collection of vintage guitars, culminating in a private room for displaying several extremely rare Gibson guitars from 1957: a Flying V and an Explorer/Voyager. A third guitar is apparently missing, and Thomas learns that the Lord was recently robbed of the guitar completing this Gibson ‘Modernistic’ triptych: the Moderne, a guitar so rare that there is no evidence that it ever made it beyond the prototype stage (with the exception of a short-lived reissue in the 1980s). Despite this, the enigmatic occupant of Boleskine House must prove its existence for insurance purposes, something that even he is incapable of doing since he never took any photographs. The Lord, confined to a wheelchair, convinces Thomas to collect any information that could possibly be used to establish the guitar’s existence, in exchange for a share of the insurance settlement. And so begins Thomas’s adventure of a lifetime: chasing down leads from Loch Ness to Australia, ultimately crisscrossing the same American routes and cities known for generations by itinerant bluesmen: Memphis, Chicago, New Orleans, and inevitably … the devil’s crossroads (Highways 49 and 61) in Clarksdale, MS.

Without providing too many plot details, Thomas’s quest for the Holy Grail of vintage guitars puts him in contact with an Elvis impersonator, as well as a young PhD student from Ole Miss. These supporting characters are ‘instrumental’ in narrowing his search to a 45 RPM released by a cursed bluesman in the late 1950s. But will Thomas be able to assemble enough evidence to satisfy his end of the bargain?

Throughout this ‘road novel’, Grégoire Hervier introduces the reader to many interesting side trips. I particularly enjoyed learning about Pierre Schaeffer and his manipulated recordings (e.g. “sillon fermé”), or the use of ‘sound on sound’ techniques and ring modulator effects. Likewise, I was unaware that the current trend of “relic-ed” guitars can be traced to Keith Richards and his need for a back-up copy of his famed Telecaster, Micawber. Personally, I found this particular anecdote to embody a subtle but recurring theme in “Vintage” that really resonated with me. Whereas on the surface the Micawber replica could be seen as a simple economic solution to gigging with a priceless vintage guitar, it also suggests a deeper meaning – is the instrument priceless for its rarity on the vintage market, or because the musician has a unique bond with this one instrument?

What does it mean to bond with a special instrument? Perhaps part of the equation has something to do with a ‘familiarity of touch’, facilitating the transfer of a personal musical language to the instrument. The great jazz accordionist Richard Galliano speaks of returning to his beloved Victoria accordion from his youth, after experiment with Cavagnolo accordions in the 1970s-80s; since the 1990s this instrument has not left his side as he travels and earns accolades throughout the world. Oddly, my personal adventure with the accordion began with a fictive yet familiar sensation. After a period of extensive listening to bandoneonist Astor Piazzolla I awoke one morning feeling as though I had played the accordion, in which I experienced this familiarity of touch – the keys and bellows all seemed to work in harmony – despite never having played accordion before! This dream felt so genuine that I became consumed with the idea of playing accordion, setting off a cascade of events that has sent me in search of that instrument to bond with, from learning the piano accordion to changing course with the chromatic button accordion, and eventually seeking out my current instrument in Castelfidardo, the cradle of Italian accordions. Have I found that one instrument? Perhaps, but this does not mean that the adventure should end here!

Have you found that one instrument that is quintessential to your art? I would like to read your comments!

“Vintage” by Grégoire Hervier was published in 2016 by “Au Diable Vauvert”, and can be found everywhere. With an engaging storyline, it is the fastest that I have ever read a novel in French (and it is the only French novel that I have read twice). It may be worth learning French just to read this novel!

Frank Marocco (January 2, 1931 – March 3, 2012) possessed the holy grail of musicians: an instantly recognizable style. He was particularly graced with a sense of swing that breathed life into any melody that he touched, and a left hand technique that solidly assured the rhythm with a bebop sense of harmony. And if his sound is recognizable, it’s also because his playing appears on several hundred film, television and studio credits!

The path to his musical sound was a product of an era, when the accordion reigned as one of the most popular instruments in America, and was supported by instructors who could maintain this interest at a high level of quality: the golden age of the accordion. Frank’s early training was thus shaped within the accordion culture of the greater Chicago area of the 1940s, and was polished by the great instructor, Andy Rizzo.

The next important feature in the development of Frank’s sound is that years of incessant touring, teaching and demanding studio work provided a firm foundation for an impeccably professional technique. These skills gave Frank a unique voice in his interpretation of the great American songbook, a major source for his performance repertoire.

In the early 2000s, when I was first taking accordion lessons, I discovered Frank Marocco through my accordion teacher. At the same time, Frank seemed to be entering a new phase of his illustrious career, in which he was giving more concerts around the world (instead of being cloistered within the Hollywood studios). This coincided with the rise of YouTube, and I religiously watched each new video featuring Frank. One of my personal favorites was taken from a jazz club appearance in Denmark, in 1984 .

Frank’s recordings are rich and varied in stylistic output. Some personal favorites include:

Jazz on the Road (1988): This is a solo recording made during a visit to the Klingenthal accordion competition in the former East Germany. In this solo context, one can really appreciate how Frank approached the role of the left hand ‘Stradella’ system, making it a unique accompanist to the melody. For me, the recording of Clare Fischer’s ‘Morning’ really stands out on this occasion, in which we can clearly hear 3 distinct yet simultaneous lines during the theme.

Ballad for Anne (1989): The sound of electric accordions may seem dated at first, but this compilation album rewards the listener with a modern approach to jazz accordion. ‘All The Things You Are’  (1980) features the odd pairing of bassoon (Ray Pizzi) with Frank playing organ and walking bass lines on his electric accordion. Another compilation CD, ‘Brazilian Waltz’ (1988), is similar in scope and instrumentation.

Art Van Damme and Friends (1979): This is another recording with odd instrumentation. Here we have an interesting concept from the accordion designer and craftsman Julio Giulietti: a big band jazz sound recreated using accordions voiced like different orchestra sections. In this case, we find Frank on “bass accordion” and Kenny Kotwitz on “cello accordion”, backing up Art van Damme on a more conventional lead accordion. The intense, interweaving accordion parts shine on the Van Damme piece ‘Let Yourself Down’. (Although a typical Van Damme instrumentation uses guitar or vibes, here Pete Jolly, another great accordionist, is featured on electric piano.) The idea of a jazz accordion orchestra was notably also used by Leon Sash, with Gerry Brown and Jerry Cigler.

Frank passed away in 2012. One of his later film score dates was for Pixar’s Ratatouille, which includes exceptional “fills” on ‘Le Festin’  in which Frank achieves a very warm, smooth sound on his Giulietti accordion.