Hello Jack

I first knew Warne around 1962.  The first time I heard about him was when a friend of mine played an album of Lee Konitz and Warne.  It knocked me out.  I don't remember when I first met Warne, but I saw him at many places where he played in L.A.  I remember one time I saw him in Pasadena, playing with an alto man.  It was very hot and in between tunes he played about 10 or 12 bars of "Heat Wave", which showed a sense of humor.

Warne was very soft spoken.  He came over to my apartment with Buddy Clark, a bass player, on a motor scooter, about one hour's ride from North Hollywood.  I was at a party at his place when some musicians from New York showed up.  They had never heard of Warne.  When he pulled out his horn and joined in the session their jaws dropped.  He played so much, they couldn't believe it.  The last time I saw him was at Donte's in North Hollywood.  That is about all I remember as it was a long time ago.

Robert DeHay. Atlanta, Georgia. 31 May 2015.

Dear Jack

I don't make it a habit of writing to unknown e-mail addresses and I have nothing substantial to contribute to your website other than the memories I have of seeing and hearing Warne Marsh at Donte's, in North Hollywood, along with Med Flory, Jack Nimitz, Conte Candoli, et al. in "Supersax" in the early 1970s. I ate up the "Crosscurrent" recordings with Tristano and Konitz (who I saw twice in my life), which I first discovered, also in the early 70s, and the famous Konitz/Marsh recording of 1955 I have in my record library. Strangely enough, I heard Marsh with Supersax before I discovered the "Crosscurrent" recordings, but my perception of his playing was always the same: pristine purity, a forward driving virtuosity, crystal-like lines, slim and purposeful, might also be a description I would use. I have always had a great admiration for Marsh, as for Konitz, and I was fortunate to see him (Marsh) one last time, playing in a small concert in Stuttgart, Germany in the 1980s with the famous Austrian tenor saxophonist, Hans Koller.

I would be most happy to hear from you and, though we've never met, I wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Earl Rosenbaum.  Stuttgart, Germany.  (formerly residing near Los Angeles, CA)  21 December 2014.

Many visitors to this website will recognise the name Larry Kart.  Larry has been writing about jazz and other music for many years including for Down Beat magazine and the Chicago Tribune, together with his book "Jazz in Search of Itself".  Of particular note here are his writings on Warne Marsh.  He wrote the booklet enclosed with the Mosaic boxed CD set "The Complete Atlantic Tristano, Konitz and Marsh" and also the liner notes for the the Nessa Records release of "All Music".
I received the following from him a couple of days ago:

I just ran across a fragment of an anecdote on a recorded practice session with bass player, Eric Von Essen.  Eric quoted a musician (probably a pianist) who played with Warne, that Warne called a tune in Ab but he thought he had said Eb, and they started playing in different keys but Warne heard it and switched to the other key in the space of one bar!  

Cheers,

Charles Coffman, Venice, CA. 8 November 2013.

    This the first time I have seen this web site about the musical career of Warne Marsh.  Thank you so much for starting it up....  every one who has written in have comments about his music, I hope it will be OK to hear a little about his life growing up in North Hollywood.  
    I'm his little brother, Owen, who has absolutely no musical talent.  Right now I'm in my mid eighties but still remember the sounds coming from Warne's room at all times of the day and night.  The same set of notes, over and over for what seemed like hours until he was happy with the results.  Then he would continue playing them just to see how much he liked them.

Hello Jack,
I am a frequent visitor and thought I’d take a moment to say how much I enjoy this site.  Particularly like the Global Warne-ing page! 
I am a late arrival to the music of Warne Marsh but have found much to appreciate as I have become more immersed in his discography.
I will comment that I am partial to some of Warne’s later recordings.  Particular favorites these days are the quartet & trio Storyville recordings from December 1975 and the recent release of a trio w/ Peter Scattaretico and Red Mitchell live in NYC in 1980.
Sincerely, 

Fred Born – West Milford, New Jersey, USA.  April 4th. 2012.

I saw Warne with Supersax at a high school jazz festival in 1979 in northern California and as a fledgling sax player, was blown away.   I got to talk to Warne after the show and asked him how do you play like that, all wide eyed and in awe, and his kind and gentle reply was "10 years or 10,000 hours... whatever comes first," then he gave me an autograph.  That was a long time ago but one of my best jazz memories, and I still remember how his solos that day changed my look at how the horn was played.  He was very powerful.  Thanks Warne.

Jeff Littlefield.  Martinez, California.  21 March 2012.

 Warne and I met in Los Angeles in the late 1950s, through Buddy Clark, the bass player.  He had a casual dance gig and needed a piano (me) and one horn (Warne).  We hit it off.  Warne had a great fey sense of humor and knew the Tristano Kids were not held in high favor by the Bebop Boys.  So he was not only impressed that I was a bopper who loved Bud Powell, but that I also knew Tristano’s 1945 Keynote sides: “Out on a Limb,” “I Can’t Get Started,” etc. 

 I also liked to play chess and Scrabble, which were passions of his.  Warne was close to being a master in chess, but we were fairly even in Scrabble.  He hated to lose, and if you won, he insisted on “just one more game.”  That could go on if he didn’t win.  There were very few of those occasions!

Warne used to come over to my tiny bed-sitter at 1552 ¼ on narrow, steep Lucretia Avenue in Echo Park.  It almost became a gig for him: show up about 9 P.M., have a drink or two, buckle on his horn, and away we would go for at least two hours.  It was just like a club date.  Weird we were, playing sets!  He liked my “arranger’s piano”--no frills, no florid runs, just solid changes.  Early on he made a point of saying, “Can you cut out all those hip substitutions?  I’ll play those; you just feed me the basic changes and I’ll play on top of it.  Listen to how Lennie does it.”   

This began a long friendship, which survived Warne opening a bottle of champagne and blowing out a window with the cork.  With his analytical mind, he calculated the odds of hitting the exact trajectory again.  Warne was very good with electronics and worked as a repairman for quite a while in the 1960s.  Problem solving is a major key to understanding him—whether in music, games or electronics.  He just couldn't solve the problems in his personal relations. 

As I said, we treated my apartment as a club date, and after the “gig” we would get some take-out food and sit at a table playing chess or Scrabble until the wee hours.  Or we would alternate between blowing and games.  I knew all the Tristano Capitol sides, the ones with Lee and Warne.  So we played those and we would play Lee’s lines.  You can imagine the panic I had getting through “Wow,” especially the bridge!  Whoooooeeee!  Somehow we got through it and cracked up laughing when we totally screwed something up.   

Warne always wanted a challenge.  You couldn’t sit back, relax and play the same thing night after night.  My favorite story came about from nothing more than incipient boredom.  Warne said, “Christ!  Isn’t there some other ballad we could play?!  Something we haven’t put through the wringer?!”  I started noodling, strictly from left field, and he said, “I know that; can’t we make a ballad out of it?”  It was the slow theme from the fourth movement of Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra, the send-up of Tchaikovsky.  He probably loved Bartok more than any other composer.  Well, we fiddled around with it for about an hour.  We took the opening motif and welded that on, worked through some other bits and pieces and ended up with a damn curious—but marvelous—“ballad.”  Fade out and now dissolve to one of the in-type L.A. jazz clubs, with all the hipsters—the Miles and Sonny coterie--hanging around.  The leader of the house band played piano and was not wont to let other piano players sit in, but Warne—that was another matter.  He was hip, man!  I don’t recall why we went; we probably had too much to drink at my apartment and decided to find a session somewhere to whip out our polished musical wares.  We did that on rare occasions when my stage jitters didn’t bother me.  I mean, who the hell was going to get up there and play the bridge of “Wow” with Warne Marsh?!  Anyhow, Warne played a set but I can’t remember the other horn players that night.  Although Dr. Jazz, the house pianist, held court most of the night, Warne asked, “When is Don going to sit in, man?”  When hell froze over, I guessed.  Finally, the leader asked Warne to play a ballad!  “What do you want to blow?”  Warne thought, looked at me, turned to the guy and said, “Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra.”  End of story except, as you may have guessed, I did get up there and we played our tune.  It blew everybody away and left Dr. Jazz nonplussed, but quiet as a mouse fart.  I have never played that tune with anyone else, and haven’t even thought of it for years.  Warne called it “Bartok’s Ballad.” 

The years went by and we fell away from the blowing days.   I got married, he got married.  He went back to New York for a while and I fell into the limpid pools of television, writing a lot of greenback music.  Of course, when we saw each other that was another story.  But the bloom had gone, the roses faded, and we got old.  

Ironically Warne died in Donte’s, playing “Out of Nowhere,” one of the tunes we had played together 30 years before.  Buddy Clark was the bass player that night; I was at home when Buddy phoned.  There was no thunderclap as with Beethoven, but I could hear a sardonic laugh somewhere out there: “Let’s play this in another key, man.” 

Don Specht, January 30, 1990

Thank you so much for collecting and making available so much information about this great musician. I have been a fan since cutting my musical ears on the great Lennie Tristano quintette, back in the early 50's. It is hard to believe that Warne has been dead now for 23 years. One of my favourite combinations was Warne and Susan Chen. Their empathy was palpable. I have kept track of Susan who is now in San Francisco. Unfortunately I have been unable to track down their duo recording.
Thanks again for all your efforts.
Brian Finnemore, Salt Spring Island, British Columbia, Canada.  23rd. November 2010.

(Note by JG. - I've now heard from Brian that he's been able to locate a copy of the duo recording.)

Hi Jack,
My name's Geoff James - I'm a sax player living in Shropshire, England. I had the good fortune to see Warne in December 1975 at the Warren Bulkeley Hotel, Stockport.  He was the first American Saxophonist I'd seen live, and wow!   A life changing experience for me!  One thing I remember was how BIG his sound and presence were!  Absolute magic!  I can still remember the entire set - including "Crazy She Calls Me", which I don't think Warne played often?

V Best Wishes
Geoff.    4th. October 2009

“Hello,
     I am James Martin, the drummer who played with Warne on a tour in Europe in 1983.  I also played on his "A Ballad Album" LP with Lou Levy.  I remember his great lyrical playing and his honest approach to life.  I treasure those memories.   James”  (12 June 2009). 

Hello Jack,
   Thanks for the response so quickly.
   I am currently living in Naples, Florida, playing at the Ritz-Carlton with a couple of jazz trios.  After living in the Netherlands a few years, I returned to Atlanta, then the Miami area, then Switzerland.  I have been lucky enough to play jazz for a living all these years with locals and jazz greats alike.
    My experiences with the "musical acrobat" are greatly cherished, not to mention the greats Lou Levy and Jesper Lundgaard. 
    I was lucky enough to have been born in Atlanta, Georgia, a city steeped in African-American history.  I started out playing rock music, but was trying to better myself playing this magical music, jazz.  I had been playing with various bands and even played with Major Lance and Billie Joe Royal.  Finally, I got to test the water playing in strip clubs, etc. with some great local jazz musicians who took me under their wing.  I was probably about 21 at this time.  As time passed, I began to play  some with Duke Pearson, Layman Jackson, Paul Mitchell and others.
    In the mid-seventies, I played in a jazz house band with Johnny O'Neil. We backed artists such as Clark Terry, Zoot Sims, Sweets and Jaws, Milt Jackson, etc.  There are live recordings released of these on various labels.  We even did a couple of road dates with Milt.  It was a magical time, when some people actually had "ears".  One of the most intense weeks I ever had was with Lyle Mays and Marc Johnson.  I felt I was playing in the Bill Evans trio, not long after he passed.  After this week, I was contracted to record an album in Italy with a HUGE pop star, Renato Zero, little did I know.
     The Renato Zero recording turned out to be No.1 pop hit for 26 weeks. It was a lovely experience enjoying all the beauties of Italy for a few months. Upon my return to the States, I passed through Holland for a few days.  I had been there a few months a couple of years earlier playing gigs and enjoying the life.  During my stop-over, I sat in at a lovely jazz club on the coast in Scheveningen, outside of Den Haag.  The owner asked if I would return to work there after my commitments in the States.
     After returning, I went back to work at my old jazz job in Atlanta.  It was funny, at this time I was borrowing drums and cymbals from my friends before returning to Europe.  I sure learned a lesson from that! A musical instrument is like clothing.  It has got to fit!
     I was very excited about living in the Netherlands.  I loved the beauty and freedom of the people.  I was playing with local jazz musicians and the occasional star as I worked at the Vliegende Hollander, the "Flying Dutchman".
     A couple of years later, I was recommended to Gerry Teekens to do this tour with Warne and Lou.  I remember our first gig was at the "BIM-huis", the legendary jazz club in Amsterdam.  We clicked from the "get go" and played furiously that evening.  I remember Warne turning around and smiling at me after some burning piece.  Lou kinda warned about playing too loud, which I kept in my mind for the remainder of the tour, but we were all excited and playing very dangerously.  I remember all the jazz ex-pats were there that evening…. Sandy Mosse, Irv Rochlin and others.
     We travelled mostly by auto on the tour.  Warne and Lou loved to play this word game as we were travelling, but  I can't remember how it was played.  They were both quite amiable  and we all got along quite well.  They were both quite deep thinkers, not only in the jazz world.  Jesper was always very quiet and was intense with his electronic gear.  I called him "gadget". What a fabulous bass player.  I remember I was "cutting up" somewhere and knocked his music stand over and it put a little scratch on his bass.  I don't think I have ever been more embarrassed in my life.  He shrugged it off, but I am sure it upset him.  As Milt Jackson said "You can't unring a bell" !!!!  Jesper and I would do a couple of more dates later with Duke Jordan.
     I have a small book somewhere with all the dates, but I can't find it at the moment.  The order of these dates won't be in order, but I will speak of various ones.
     Our gig at the New Morning Club in Paris was very meaningful to Warne and myself.  It was the first time either one of us had played there.  The hotel where we stayed was just down the street from the club, not exactly the nicest place, but convenient.  I knew Lou and Warne were not very happy about it, but let it go due to its location.  I remember when I got in my room a funny situation ensued.  A woman and her friend, arrived at the room next door.  The walls were paper thin so I couldn't help hearing "Ca Vas?" and he answered "Ca Vas".  Five minutes later they were out the door...Hehehhehee, such is life...
     Of course after a sound check, we prepared for our opening night. I was quite unhappy with the drums, but "Ca vas"...hehehehe  The first night was very busy and continued to grow every night of the three days.  New Morning is a large jazz club, or hall.. nice to fill it up.  The first tune is, of course, waiting for the reaction of the sophisticated Parisian ear. After the first tune, and a short silence … the audience roared!  I could see the Parisians had ears for Warne's special approach in his playing. He definitely was, as the Radio France announcer said, a "musical acrobat".  During our stint there, I got to meet some legendary jazz greats, Kenny Clarke and Martial Solal.  What could be more beautiful than "April in Paris" and playing with Warne?
     Another interesting venue was in Heist-op-den-Berg, Belgium.  We went over to the director's home, Juul, and witnessed his massive jazz archival collection.  Lou would talk about that great "hothouse" film of Bird and Diz ... A funny thing, the drums for the gig actually had slash marks in the toms. I said something and the reply was "Well, Billy Higgins played them last month!"  It seemed they got them from one of the neighbors...Hehehe...Thank God I brought a snare...The gig went very well for a full house.
      The gig in Amsterdam, “De Kroeg" was equally hilarious.  As I was bringing in my drums, someone dropped a keg of beer by my drums which spewed all over them… Lou had to play an upright piano which you could literally pull the keys out of the board…  Welcome to the world of jazz...Ca vas.
      The next gig was in Utrecht with a glorious hall with a Bosendorfer....Ridiculous to the sublime...Ack Van Rooyen played with us on the concert.  You couldn't ask for a better setting, lovely.
       We played also in "De Tobbe" in Voorburg.  That is exactly what it sounded like, a tub...Even with all these situations, Warne could still do his musical juggling.  He was unreal.
       The last gig was at Dizzy's in Rotterdam. On the way to the gig, I was terribly sick.  They would have to stop and open the door off the autobahn and let me stick my head out.  I really had the flu.  After we played the show, Warne or Lou said to me, "Man, you should have gotten sick earlier in the tour". Hehehhehe, I must have had a good night....
        Somewhere in the course of the tour, we went in to record. Believe it or not, I suggested we do a ballad album.  I felt Warne could leave a footprint like Coltrane, with his unique approach.  Maybe it was already the plan, but whatever the case, it proved to be a fabulous recording.
        I am so honored and proud to be a part of this history. In this world of "cookie cutter" musicians, Warne was totally unique, the "musical acrobat".

I have added the photos that James sent me to the Photo Gallery pages here  Photo Gallery

I had a recent exchange of emails with Ted Brown, and I mentioned the Lennie Tristano line on “How High The Moon” which Lennie named “Lennie-Bird”.  Ted had an anecdote (one of his many anecdotes) for this as follows: 

"When Lennie wrote that line, he had no regard for a horn player's need to take a breath once in a while. That was the same problem with Lennie's line on "See You In My Dreams" where the last 16 bars had no space whatsoever for a breath. When Warne and I played that we worked it out so I would omit a couple notes in one place and he would do the same in another place so we could each grab a quick breath but there would never be a break in the sound. But with just one horn that is tough". 

All the best,   Ted    July 21, 2009 

Joel Fass.  Yonkers, NY.  March 17th. 2009.

Hello Jack
I have been looking through your website. Congratulations on what you have lovingly put together, what a great tribute to one of jazz's greatest and totally unique players.
I too had the privilege of seeing Warne with the great Lee Konitz at the memorable gig at The Corner House at Whitley Bay on Tyneside back in the mid 70s. At the time I was going there regularly to listen to weekly local jazz sessions so went to this concert and I still often think about it. I'm a big fan of UK guitarist Dave Cliff - he played wonderfully on that gig too. Following that, I bought some Marsh recordings for my collection and came to regard him as one of my all time favourite players. I'm always suggesting to young players to check him out (as well as another favourite of mine, Richie Kamuca).
It's a nice thing to do something positive to help deserving artists get the credit they deserve and to have their place in the history of the music acknowledged for posterity.
My very best wishes and thanks
Roly Veitch, Tyneside, UK.  27th. December 2008.

I was a jazz improvisation student of Warne’s in the early ‘70’s.  I was a bebop jazz guitarist and was studying with Warne and Joe Pass at the time.  So many stories.  Just a couple…..  I remember going over to his house in Pasadena for lessons.  During a break he would have the chess board out, drinking and listening to Supersax recordings on his headphones – at the same time.  I remember when he performed at Donte’s with Supersax and when he started to solo, and circular breath, everyone on the stage just stepped back, Med Flory’s jaw dropped and they all just looked transfixed waiting to hear what would come next.  I started taking lessons with Warne at the music store that Gary Foster was working at in Pasadena on Colorado Blvd.  I had just taken Gary’s class at Pasadena City College (same time that all the Van Halen guys were there).  Putter Smith (bassist – who also managed a role in a James Bond movie and insisted that they pay for his entire family to go over to Europe with him otherwise he wouldn’t take the part…..) would come by to play from time to time.  Warne had a jazz improv class and was convinced that his method would allow ones improvisational abilities to reveal themselves……and they did.
Michael D. Silberman.  Calabasas, California.  May 22nd. 2008.

I only saw Warne play one time, at the Jazz Showcase in Chicago in the early '80s. We weren't sure if the house drummer Wilbur Campbell would be right for Warne, but it worked just fine. By the time the third set started, it was the wee hours of the morning, and fewer than a dozen of us were left in the club. Warne closed his eyes and played his heart out, chorus after chorus of "vertical improvisation," always finding another tale to weave. I think he identified with the late-night diehards, those of us who would play music or listen to it until we dropped.
Of the thousands of live performances I've seen over the last forty some years, this was one of the best.
Rest in peace, Warne.

Mike Stillman, Chicago.  May 31st. 2006.

Dear Jack:

Thanks for this wonderful website. I'm teaching a graduate seminar called "Topics in Jazz Theory and Analysis: Charlie Parker and Lennie Tristano" this semester at New England Conservatory in Boston. The students in the class are some of the best young jazz players in the U.S. We've been studying some of Warne's solos and compositions as part of the course, and I just directed the members of this class and my other class, Jazz Styles: Improvisation, to your site. The students are quite interested in Warne's work, and I think they'll enjoy the information on your site. Again, thanks for your work on this.

Best wishes,
Allan Chase
Dean of Faculty
New England Conservatory
290 Huntington Avenue
Boston MA 02115 USA.  April 12, 2005.

I studied with Warne at the Hotel Bretton Hall on 86th and Broadway for about 2 1/2 years in the early 80's. I also remember two excellent players who also studied with him at the time. One was an Alto Player named Mike Kolodny. Mike was one of the most innovative players I have heard. The other student was a Tenor player named Gregg Martin. Gregg was also very cutting edge and a great player.

I remember sitting on the floor outside Warne's hotel room before my lesson listening to him practice. He would weave a mosaic of music that was the most beautiful and sensitive playing I have ever heard. I wasn't a very good student and not a very good reader so Warne focused on my ear. I would listen to solos of Lester Young and Louis Armstrong and sing them to him. He also told me to listen to Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra to really learn a tune. He said that they were always true to the song.

My time with Warne was very rewarding. He didn't want very much from life except to love his family and to play. To Warne Music was a religion that took care of everything else. He went through some pretty rough times with life but what he believed in more than anything was Music. His love of Music and his generosity to all who studied with him was very heartfelt especially to me. He was a friend and treated me as an equal even though I couldn't possibly stand in his very large shoes.

He changed my life and I will never forget him.

John P. Bianculli.  Queensbury, New York.  March 27th. 2005.

Congratulations Jack on your fine website devoted to Warne Marsh! This is something of real value as Warne was one of the great players of all time, and it's wonderful to be able to read the various comments by others on him and his music. I had the privilege of knowing Warne Marsh as a student in the early seventies when he was discovering a second career as a teacher -- something he came to truly enjoy.

Warne's extrapolation of melodic improvisation was an innovative contribution to 20th century music; at his best he was certainly the equal of Lester Young and Charlie Parker, his main sources of inspiration along with Lennie Tristano. The subtle brilliance and complexity of his playing make him almost too challenging perhaps for the average jazz listener, as his music is really on a par with great classical music. His commitment to linear improvisation places him on a rather lonely peak of achievement shared by few others. He was truly a musical giant.

I am sure that in the course of time Warne Marsh will emerge as one of the most incisive and impassioned musical thinkers of this era, for he was uncompromisingly dedicated to the possibilities of creative improvising based on the most thorough and deep comprehension of the interplay of melody, harmony and rhythm. Warne's solos exhibit both fire and intense intellectuality, and remain fresh and absorbing after repeated listenings. They are remarkable spontaneous compositions, full of surprises but with a superior sense of order.

His was a soul wedded to music; Warne was a great artist who cared only for creative expression of a high kind. We are lucky that he was among us. He was a great teacher also, and he affirmed for me that art is the greatest of all ways to affirm the truth and beauty of being human. Let's never forget him!

Thanks again Jack for putting your website together and contributing to the continuing celebration of Warne Marsh's extraordinary music.

Charles Coffman
Venice, California.  February 14th. 2005

Dear Jack,

What a great website. I perused all of it. The photos are wonderful. I especially liked George Ziskind's contribution -- just like Warne, hugging his horn and looking at George with those intense Warne Marsh eyes. I also like George's contribution to the anecdotes -- it just knocked me over! I might be able to help identify the tracks on "The Art of Improvising." I was the editor. Lennie didn't tell that to Warne and Warne assumed that Lennie did the editing. I did it for Lennie because he wanted a solo tape of Warne's playing from that date.
This misunderstanding wound up causing some harm and hurt feelings! I managed to give this information to Lee Konitz a couple of years ago and it turned it around for him. I was glad I was in a position to do that. Someone is writing a bio of Lee and asked me for a contribution of two paragraphs. One paragraph will be to tell that particular story. It had nothing to do with Lennie editing Lee out. It was just me making a solo tape for Lennie.

Thanks for this website.

Connie

Connie Crothers.  New York City.  February 10th.  2005.

Hi Jack,

I love the website. I’m 40+ and have dug the Lennie Tristano School since I was a child, when my father would play ‘Judy’, ‘Yesterdays’ and segments from ‘Crosscurrents’ and other related stuff on his upright piano (located in my bedroom). Warne Marsh always fascinated me. I was struck by how much he looked like the actor Alan Ladd (from ‘Shane’). In fact, Warne (and Lee Konitz, for that matter) never looked the same in successive photos. It struck me that they looked almost non-descript or ordinary. Warne looks ill on some of the photos in your gallery.  I remember learning some of his solo’s, transposing them to alto. I’d hum them for weeks, months: I still know them.  

Warne and Lee (and the Lennie Tristano School) turned me off from a lot of jazz. I liked what they were doing but little else. I liked the linear approach to improvisation (and became influenced by it). My wife and I got married to ‘Darn that Dream’ (from the Marsh/Konitz European tour: the same line-up that you saw in Whitley Bay all those years back). 

I listen to Warne every week and have done for years. I don’t know if I’ve become blinkered. I listen to other stuff but rarely for long (exceptions are: Kenny Wheeler, Dewey Redman, some Monk, Charlie Haden). If it’s jazz it has to be from The School.  

It’s good to see that your website has been such a success. I’ve got no reminiscences to give you (sorry). I’ve seen Konitz a number of times (met him once) and am seeing him again on the 18 January (Kenny Wheeler’s 75^th birthday gig). But perhaps my most important live attendance occurred when I was an undergraduate at the School of Cognitive & Computing Sciences, University of Sussex. And it kind of links up with that Whitley Bay line-up.  

I was playing tenor at that time and a student buddy said that a guitarist and alto player played duets at one of the student bars on campus. I went along one Sunday afternoon and discovered that the guitarist was Dave Cliff and the altoist was Geoff Simkins. They were playing some familiar standards. One student asked if they’d play ‘Summertime’ (dreadful song!). I think it was Geoff Simkins who replied something like “I’ve got nothing new to say about that song, so sorry”. It reminded me of a story I heard about Lee Konitz: he was asked (somewhat unwisely) by a member of the audience, if he’d play ‘Take Five’. I think he replied “I wouldn’t be seen dead playing Take Five”!  

But I approached them and asked if they’d be prepared to go over some Tristano School lines. Dave Cliff was clearly shocked and quietly impressed I seem to recall. Anyway, they did go over some of those wonderful lines for the rest of the set. I don’t think that they’d practiced the lines regularly. There were a few errors. But it was great; the best live music I’ve ever heard (partly because of the relevance of it to me). I studied briefly with Simkins thereafter.  

Whilst gigging (on alto) in Portsmouth, a drummer said to me between songs that I reminded him of Lee Konitz: well, I could have hugged him, even if he was a drummer.  I play a little jazz piano now having given up the sax for a number of reasons.  

I never saw Warne Marsh but I love that man’s music, its uncompromising purity, the feeling of humility you feel if you dare to try and keep up with him. It has always been an intimidating experience listening to Warne (certainly as a sax player I feel that). It surprises me that so many pianists tended to lay-out behind Konitz but not Warne. I’d have thought it’d been the other way round. Having said as much: I find it easier to follow Warne than Konitz on the piano. 

Anyway. Best wishes to you and to all likeminded souls out there.  

Keeping Warne’s memory alive is a truly great service and I thank you for it. 

Thanks for your incredibly important work on one of the only people who understood the logical next direction for the trajectory of Fats, Prez and Bird - to pick the fattest pillars. As Bird once said to Bud Powell as they sat and listened to Warne play in the very early days "That's the next me." (recounted to me by Sal Mosca who was sitting behind them at the time.)

Best

Michael Gold, Ph.D.  Minnesota. November 14th. 2004.

I was very fortunate to be a student and friend of Warne's in the years from 1973 until he passed away. As a beginning musician, Warne was always patient and understanding in answering questions on music styles and theory.

Warne always said that a musician should learn the original melody of the song, especially from a standard done by Frank Sinatra or Billie Holiday.

Even more than musical ability, Warne was able to point me in the right direction as far as listening and appreciating quality music. I also would like to say that his wife Gerry was always very hospitable to all the musicians when we would have jam sessions at their house in Pasadena.

Here's to you Warne from one Valley guy to another.

Dusty Wood.  Van Nuys, California.  November 3rd. 2004.

One day Warner ("Warner" was my pet name for Warne, and he seemed to dig it so I kept using it right until the end) and I were standing at Second Avenue and 82nd St. waiting for the downtown Second Avenue bus to come along. And totally out of the blue, Warner turned to me and said, "You know, man, I think I am really in deep shit with Connie." (Connie Crothers, of course.) I asked him why?  He replied - and I'll never forget his exact words, and my instant comprehension of the gaffe that Warner obviously felt he made - "...because the other day I told her that Lennie was the best blind pianist I had ever heard!"

George Ziskind.  New York City.  September 3rd. 2004.

Just some reminiscences about Warne.

I met him three times while he was in Japan with Supersax. I first saw him at a concert in Yokohama. At intermission he was alone on stage doing something to his tenor, so I walked up the steps onto the stage and started talking to him (it wasn't a very big hall). Now I don't usually do things like that, but to me here was THE great genius of the saxophone, (well, along with Lester and Bird), who had had a profound influence on my life, and so it was something I had to do. He was reserved but friendly. We talked a little about the tour, about a mutual friend, and about jamming in clubs in Japan (he was keen to, but had not done so, at that point). Then Buddy Clark came out to check his tape recorder - he was apparently recording the concert. Warne said something like, "I can take care of the recording for you, man." Buddy Clark said pretty sharply, "Jesus - don't you even touch it!" He didn't seem to have much faith in Warne's recording capabilities...

The second time was at a concert in Tokyo a week or so later. I took along a Japanese friend of mine who managed a jazz coffee shop, and he brought Free Wheeling and the Atlantic for Warne to autograph. He was very friendly, and mentioned that Free Wheeling was unavailable in the States, that it was one of his favorites, and that he didn't have a copy.

The next time may have been the next night. I picked up a copy of Free Wheeling (it was readily available at that time), and bluffed my way into the dressing room to give it to him. He was very grateful.

The music he played was incredible, but I found it a little difficult to take in cold like that - the tempos (Salt Peanuts etc.) were so fast...

Would you believe it, but at Tokyo Station there was a full size billboard with a photo of the Supersax band advertising the concert! Unfortunately I didn't have a camera at the time...

Peter Scott.  Fukushima, Japan.  30th. December 2003

I was recently at the train station in Omiya, Japan. At the station, there was this jazz duo playing that consisted of a young female singer and a young male guitar player, both Japanese.  After their first set, they came up and started talking to me and asked me to attend their upcoming performances. I thanked them and told them who my father was. The guitar player flipped.

After the second set, I had dinner with the two of them, and the singer told me that the guitarist was almost too nervous to talk to me. Of course, I didn't want him to feel this way, and I was open to any questions he may have for me. However, God bless him at the same time. There are musicians from my father's generation that compliment me for my father's accomplishments, but nothing compares to hearing those compliments from the younger generation of players.

Pop's sweet melody can still be heard, and is still an inspiration, all over the world.

Edit as you see fit, Jack, and drop me a line when you have the time.

Thanks again,
Jason Parker Marsh.  Japan.  27th. December 2003

I was told by a friend of the family that my dad would always deny any desire to listen to music he had played before. In particular he did this with his friend Steve who had a studio in his house. The next day my dad, knowing Steve would have recorded  everything they played, would ask if he could check out the tapes.

K.C. Marsh. North Hollywood, December 18th. 2003

    I can't even begin to tell you all the story...but here goes.....

    In 1983 I was a 19 year old saxophone neophyte when my dad brought home a scrap of paper with the name scribbled Warne Marsh on it for me. He said he had met a woman who was his wife (my now good friend Gerry) and that she lived in town (Santa Cruz CA), and had I ever heard of this guy, she claimed he was a famous saxophonist. At that very moment the Warne Marsh/Pete Christlieb Warner Bros record Apogee was taped and inserted in my car cassette machine, I had been listening intently for several months at that point. Upon calling Gerry I learned that Warne was to be in town soon, and I arranged to meet him at my old high school since his son KC was playing in the jazz band and Warne was going to stop in at this certain time and talk to the jazz band.......
    I will never forget the sight of Warne walking into the Harbor High music room, a room I knew so well as a former All State saxophonist there and a graduate the year before, with a Walkman cassette player around his neck. Shortly he spoke to the class, grabbed his son KC's alto, and played a solo with the band on it. I can still see it, I can still hear it, and man it just about killed me. Afterwards I chatted with him, and we went to breakfast.....We became friends, and I saw him whenever he came to town, as well as becoming friends with Jason and KC, his sons, and giving KC some very bad saxophone lessons as a favor to Warne, to keep him interested in the music. He mentioned his various recordings, and they soon filled my music collection. He would love to come up to our house in the Santa Cruz mountains, bask in the sunshine, and smoke some of the herbaceous native I would offer. We would gather around the piano, and he would school me big time. Little did I know that my life was being forever transformed by his presence and spirit. He was so generous and giving, to such a neophyte, it just is beyond comprehension. But we had a lot of fun.......
    Not long after that I moved to San Francisco. Since I stayed in touch with Warne in LA, I soon talked to him and learned he would be in SF, this was Dec of '86. I went to hear him play, in Oakland, with Susan Chen. The next day I met up with him at some guy's house, he introduced me to him, a one George Khouri. We listened to some Joe Henderson albums, smoked some herb. Little did I know George Khouri would become a lifelong friend. I asked Warne for an autograph, on Dec 3, 1986. It hangs with the picture of him on the cover of the book in my house. It will, forever.....
    I was in the Jazz Quarters, a record store on 20th Street in SF, in late Dec, 1987. I noticed a new obituary on the wall there. Tears streamed down my face as I read the news, I was in shock. I cried and cried.
    I talked to my friend Kevin Moore in Santa Cruz, himself a Marsh student in LA in the 70's that day. All he said was, "Yeah, I thought you knew....."
    The years go by, and the more I ponder my time with him, the more I realize how special it truly was. Recently I got to hang with the boys, KC and Jason. It's eerie, how KC looks a lot like Warne, and Jason talks just like him. I have that picture, I have that autograph, I have the obit, and I have the music and memories. I still talk to Gerry, and I realize how we all miss him. George and I get together and play the lines from time to time. And I live my life, teaching music, playing music, and hearing echoes of the greatest tenors of all time, Lester, Warne and Coltrane. Warne opened the door, and I walked through...
    Thanks for helping me find my Inner Melody, Mr. Marsh. Your boys and your wife are my friends, your students keep my soul alive. Your music is timeless, and your voice echoes in my head.....he used to say it all the time....."Sing your own song, play something new....."
    I remember Warne........
   
Mark G. "Markos" Sowlakis, Santa Cruz, December 18th. 2003

The one thing I would like to share this evening is not a story, but rather an observation:
for me the world is a richer place due to the fact that Warne Marsh once inhabited it,
but sadly a poorer place because he no longer does. Thankfully we have his work to
turn to, and can experience his noble joy in the way that I'm quite sure he would
have most appreciated, through his recordings and the music of those he influenced

Peace -
John Klopotowski, San Francisco, December 17th. 2003.

My favorite Warne Marsh story, included in my book, "An Unsung Cat", is this: a student, Claude Alexander, asked Warne if he had ever tried LSD. Warne said he had. "How did you like it," asked Claude. "It makes the notes too far apart," answered Warne.

Safford Chamberlain, Los Angeles, December 12th. 2003.

In 1983 I functioned as a driver for Warne Marsh and Lou Levy to the "New Morning" club in Paris.
Driving back to the Netherlands, Lou Levy and I were talking about politics, Warne was smoking his very strong marihuana in the backseat. Suddenly we heard his voice: "Lou, on the bridge of Star Eyes, you played one wrong chord.  Instead of..... , it should have been...."  (not being a musician myself, I forgot what chord had irritated him).  Lou of course denied having played something wrong, but asked me some minutes later at a gas station, as Warne left the car to buy some cigarettes, if I realised how obsessed that man was with his music. 
I understood that Warne was reliving the music they had made the day before.

Edo Essed, The Netherlands.  18th. November 2003.

Marsh's peculiar linear logic and behind-the-beat phrasing are the aural equivalent of well-aged scotch, and his rapport with Barry Harris represents a felicitous union of straight bebop and one of its most enigmatic tributaries, the Tristano school.
— David R. Adler

From the allmusic.com review of "Back Home" on Criss Cross Jazz CD.