Introduction
52nd Street, New York City, c. 1948
Photo by William P. Gottlieb
It all started with Garvin Bushell.(1) One night, when I was a teenager, I made it down to Jimmy Ryan’s on 52nd Street to hear the De Paris Brothers. At the time, Ryan’s was the last club standing on that famous strip and it featured traditional, New Orleans-style jazz. Bushell was playing clarinet in the band. After a few tunes, Wilbur De Paris called for “St. James Infirmary.” Bushell reached back, and placed his clarinet on a stand . . . then picked up an odd-looking wooden tube with holes and shiny keys and strapped it on. It was a bassoon. Just to see this was a shock, but to hear it in this context, even more so. The song started with a slow count . . . then the band fell in. Bushell put the double reed to his mouth and out came the most beautiful tones . . . ancient, bucolic sounds like a shepherd calling in the fading light to his beloved stragglers. I was spellbound. It was the perfect choice for the mood of the song; nothing could have sounded better.
In early 2005 I toured Germany . . . the Ruhr region down to Bonn. One of the gigs took place in a little performance space in Aachen on the border with Holland. The audience was respectful, but as is the case with Germans north of Bavaria, and regardless of how they felt, their applause was feeble. On this particular evening, however, one table in a dark corner in the back was going nuts . . . whistling and clapping wildly after every song. I met them at the break. They were Dutch!
I played Amsterdam a few times after that, and those same Dutch folks came to see me. They lived there, and we hung out — restaurants, museums, etc. After checking me out for any serious character flaws, they decided to adopt me; and after finding out that they would wash and fold my laundry, I decided to adopt them. They became my “Dutch Family”. . . Peter Steultjens, Jitta Miedema and their relations.
A few years later, I got the idea to record some chamber works I’d been working on: pieces for violin, cello, clarinet, bassoon, and French horn. I would need classical players for an extended period, and they needed to be top-notch. Where? L.A.? New York? Boston? It all seemed daunting; then it came to me. Maybe it was time to “get out of the way.”(2) Amsterdam might work, and it was an easy place to be. Perhaps I could find musicians there, a producer, places to rehearse and record. It was worth a try . . . and I knew I would never run out of clean laundry.
Geoff Checking the Score
Things came together and the journey began. For the next ten years I traveled to Amsterdam two or three times a year to rehearse and record. After the first couple of rehearsals, producer Gert-Jan Blom came on board. Thanks to Gert-Jan, and due to his many years of recording expe- rience, we were connected to the best studios and engineers in Holland. As my arrangements and compositions evolved, and different ensembles were needed, we found key players from the Netherlands Philharmonic Orchestra, Radio Philharmonic Orchestra, Residence Orchestra of the Hague, the Asko | Schönberg Ensemble and Metropole Orkest . . . and freelancers on a variety of instruments. Gert-Jan introduced me to ourfine mezzo-soprano, Claron McFadden.(3)
Claron and I met for tea at De Ysbreeker.(4) From her accent and manner, I thought she was Dutch . . . but as it turned out, she was from Rochester, N.Y. She’d been in Amsterdam for many years, establishing herself in the opera world and on the concert stages of Europe and beyond. At first, I had trouble connecting: Claron, a classical singer . . . and I, an American roots musician. I thought, “How can I break the ice (so to speak)? Let me see . . . Rochester . . . Rochester . . . hmmm. “Claron, do you remember Smitty’s Birdland #1?” That did it! She lit up. Smitty’s was her favorite rib joint . . . mine too.
During my time in Amsterdam I would often wonder why these talented, seasoned professionals gave so much of themselves to the proj- ect, why they always came to rehearsals and recording sessions so well- prepared. Perhaps the project offered a little time off from their demand- ing duties . . . something different . . . a nice break. For me, this was a learning experience like no other. They were my teachers . . . and I’ll always be grateful for my time with them . . . “gezellige” memories, indeed.
Garvin Bushell had a long career as a multi-instrumentalist, playing and/or recording with artists as diverse as Bessie Smith, Fletcher Henderson, Eric Dolphy and John Coltrane. He also played in symphony orchestras, and taught many students over the years, including King Curtis.
Malcom X – Message to the Grass Roots. “I’m telling you . . . you don’t know what a revolution is. Because when you find out what it is, you’ll get back in the alley, you’ll get out of the way.”
Now Lady Claron McFadden: she was knighted on 24 April 2020.
De Ysbreeker, a venerable café-restaurant on the Amstel, named for the icebreakers that docked in front of the place in earlier, colder times.
