I’ve been paying memorial tribute to Frank Wess since news of his death arrived on Thursday. The great saxophonist and flute player, a pioneer of that instrument in jazz, died on October 30 at age 91. Wess spent over a decade with Count Basie beginning in 1953; Dan Morgenstern called him the band’s “spark plug.” He was active until the last weeks of his long life. This picture of me and Frank was taken by Steven Sussman at the Litchfield Jazz Festival in 2004, where the 82-year-old Wess was the standout soloist on a Count Basie Centennial Celebration.
Baritone saxophonist Gary Smulyan sent this appreciation of Wess earlier today: “Magic is gone. What a huge loss to the world of music. I had the great pleasure of sitting in the saxophone section with Frank in both the Carnegie Hall Jazz Band and the Philip Morris Superband for many years and on many occasions. His playing was always heartfelt and soulful, and his way with ballads could make you cry and shake your head in disbelief wondering how a person could cajole that much spirit from a saxophone. He was one of the last great storytellers in music and an old school raconteur who often had us all on the floor laughing over his stories about being on the road and his experiences as a musician before many of us were even born. He knew and played with all of our musical heroes …Lester Young, Bud Powell, Count Basie, Billie Holiday, Sarah Vaughan, Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Charlie Parker, and the list goes on…With his passing we lose another one of the true originals and we are truly blessed that he left behind such a beautiful legacy of music and humanity.”
Speaking of that legacy, I was pleased to read in today’s Times obituary of Wess that his most recent recording, Magic 101, will be followed with a posthumous release, Magic 201, in February. Wess made a couple of dozen sessions as a leader, and appeared on over 400 recordings as a sideman and studio musician.
Wess and Billy Taylor were high school classmates in Washington, D.C., in the late 1930’s, and they later worked together in the house band that Taylor fronted for the David Frost Show. Dr. T recalls their long association before this performance of “Lush Life.”
Multi-instrumentalist Scott Robinson loved locking horns with Wess. Their tenor saxophone “duels” recalled the spirited battles that Wess and Frank Foster engaged in as the “Two Franks” in the Basie Orchestra of the 1950’s and 60’s. Robinson issued this message on Friday.
“We have lost the great Frank Wess… a dear mentor, friend, and giant of music. Someone I have looked up to my entire musical life. A source of immeasurable inspiration and guidance, as well as friendship. An American treasure. I last saw him less than two weeks prior, before I went on the road, and I knew it would not be long. But as my friend Maria Traversa said to me, “91 years of doing what you love is a pretty good life.” And, from fellow saxophonist Dan Block: “We’ll carry what he gave us throughout our lives.” For me this is a very personal loss. I worked closely with Frank on many concerts, tours and recordings, and we even started a band together – at his urging – back in the early nineties… I am incredibly grateful for the time I have known Frank Wess, and for all that he has given me. I will miss him more than I can say.”
Wess and Robinson are seen here at Birdland in 2007 performing what Frank calls, “one of those two-tenor things,” the Gene Ammons-Sonny Stitt classic, “Blues Up and Down.”