Customer Reviews

Dizzy: The Life and Times of John Birks Gillespie

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Obviously, the two books to compare this work with are Dizzy's own 1979 "To Be or Not to Bop" and Alyn Shipton's 1999 "Groovin' High." Dizzy's book was a disjointed, subjective, sometimes annoying, but deeply insightful oral history. Shipton's book was a straightforward bio that attempted to avoid the "he recorded this, then he recorded that" syndrome by alternating chronological chapters with evaluations of the recordings available from each period in the previous chapter. A good idea, but a lack of specific enough information as to recording dates, locations and labels defeated the purpose.

You won't miss anything if you choose either Maggin's or Shipton's book. Shipton covers the pre-bop/pre WW II period more, while Maggin gives a deeper discussion of Dizzy's incredibly fertile late 50's and early 60's period. If you are not one hundred percent sure what bop is, or why Charlie Parker or Theloneous Monk are so important, Maggin's book is better, because he breaks the story to explain these points without being patronizing. He does start to dip into the "recorded this, recorded that" syndrome in the latter decades of Dizzy's life, but it doesn't get really bad. Overall, Maggin's book reads a little smoother, a little better. What surprises me the most is that during the six years between Shipton's and Maggin's book, absolutely nothing new seems to have come out, not even in the ongoing legal dispute over royalties between Dizzy's widow Lorraine and jazz vocalist Jeanne Bryson, who claims to be his daughter by another woman. (Both Shipton and Maggin conclude that more probably than not, she is.)

In any case, read either Shipton's book or Maggin's. Then, once you know the basic whos, whats, wheres and whens, beg, borrow or let yourself get ripped off for a used copy of Diz's own autobiography, which is where the REAL fun is!

This is by far the most revealing (because best researched), most fascinating, and best written biography about Dizzy Gillespie and his times yet available. Uniquely informative musical explanations of Dizzy's contribitions to be-bop and his use of Afro-Cuban elements in jazz, propelling that music from the Swing Era into jazz of today and tomorrow. Also presents the social and historical context of Dizzy's story, from cotton picking in Cheraw,SC to world renown and jazz immortality. Only thing not explained, because it's unexplainable: how and why he was gifted with and then powerfully developed such prodigious talent -- the Mozart of jazz!

Dizzy Gillespie was truly blessed. Not only with an amazing talent and the ability that allowed him to grasp and expand on the concepts of harmony and rhythm, but by the women in his life who made his success possible. It began with his mother, who after the death of Dizzy's abusive dad when the boy was only 9, worked long, hard hours as a seamstress, laundress, and house cleaner to provide for her children. Then there was Dizzy's third grade teacher who realized he had special talent and encouraged his musicality and eventually recruited him for the school band. Next it was a student nurse at the Laurinberg Institute, who lobbied for his admission to the Institute that was noted for its two commercial bands and where Dizzy got a first-class musical education. There was the daughter of the Institute's owners who, in her free time, taught Dizzy the intricacies of the piano. This became an important instrument to Dizzy's success, as he was now able to work out new and challenging harmonies at the keyboard. And further, because of his ability to play piano and read music, he was one of the few be-boppers of his generation who was able to chart the music they were creating, without which much of the music probably would not have survived. Finally came sweet Lorraine, whom Dizzy met in 1937 at a time when he was only able to obtain occasional band work. After their meeting, Dizzy hit financial bottom, and when Lorraine discovered him begging for money for food, she began to help him. Soon they moved in together and were married within three years, and until the end of his life, 53 years later, she provided support and financial stability. Dizzy was a spendthrift who would have kept the family broke if Lorraine had not stepped in and taken over the finances of both Dizzy and his bands. And Dizzy was constantly surrounded by addictive and illegal substances that Lorraine kept at bay. Author Maggin follows Dizzy's life as he progresses from swing music to the small cadre of instrumentalists who created the new form of jazz, be bop. This modernistic approach to jazz was first derided by critics and audiences alike, but eventually, as listeners became accustomed to the somewhat cacophonic sound, be bop supplanted swing in popularity. To this new creation, Dizzy added Afro-Cuban sounds to start another musical revolution. Some of Dizzy's contemporaries took the music even further with fusion and free styles, but in 1949, Dizzy began to realize that his music had gone too far when he bemoaned, "The trouble with bop as it is played today is that people can't dance to it," and he reigned in his horn to earn acclaim and wealth for the rest of his life. Maggin does a superb job of explaining the intricate changes from swing to be bop to Afro-Cuban as he relates the development of this new music. He gives us interesting comments along with mini-bios on the musicians involved, many of them superstars, who worked in and around Dizzy's big bands and small groups. From time to time he slips into "and then he recorded" modes, but he sprinkles in enough colorful material to make them painless. He even lets us know when Dizzy recorded a clunker, as he often did when he tried to appeal to rock audiences in the 1960s. It would have been helpful if Maggin had created a glossary of musical terms, as I found myself returning to earlier pages to refresh myself on how he explained technical concepts such as diatonic harmony and flatted fifths. This is a happy book about a giant of a man who brought joy to others while exalting in his own life. From a lad picking cotton to an ambassador of good will playing "Salt Peanuts" with President Jimmy Carter, Gillespie had a magical ride and Maggin takes us along every joyous step of the way in this well-researched, organized, and comprehensive biography.

There have been two other major biographies of John Gillespie, now out of print, and his on semi-autobiography, To Be or Not to Bop, published in 1979, also OP.

I bought this book primarily on the strength of Maggin's biography of Stan Getz. Of the two, the Getz book is the stronger, more insightful and more readable book (now, alas, also out of print but in most libraries).

This book is a pretty dry read. Facts are marshaled one after another, incidents related in a neutral voice, and though it is clear the author checks his facts, does not try to mythologize his subject and is not out to feed the popular appetite for dirt, I did wish for a few more anecdotes (there are some), or maybe something just a bit less guarded in the prose. This reads a bit too much like a history book. And important characters kept appearing late in the book that we find were part of Dizzy's life earlier on, I would love to know more about how and when he worked with some of them.

One thing that Maggin does well is show Gillespie's life in the context of the development of the music, just what his innovations were and their place and importance in the history of jazz. That, combined with his caution in portraying Dizzy as true to life rather than larger than life makes this book balanced, objective and informative, if somewhat lifeless. To get a sense of Dizzy Gillespie the man, what he liked, what he thought and felt about his world (and just to have some fun) I'd encourage you to check out his own words, and those of his friends, in "To Be or Not To Bob".

Dizzy was, above all, a master "player," probably the best the music has known. It came through in his clowning, his escapades, his dress, his eating, his resilience, his take-it-as-it-comes spirit, and his music--he approached the language of jazz as a writer like Shakespeare or James Joyce approaches the English language. It's about hard work, discipline and mastery, but it's equally about serendipity, playfulness and fun.

I discovered jazz around the time of "Kind of Blue," and as a result Miles Davis, Coltrane and Bill Evans, along with the putatively more authentic "Blue Note sound," ruled for the next 30-35 years (I know of some jazz followers who still will listen to nothing but Blue Note and Van Gelder-engineered sessions--hence, rule out Bird, Diz, Stitt, Oscar, Getz, Brubeck, Louis, and Duke--thank goodness that very little of Bill Evans' piano sound was "doctored" by Blue Note). It didn't help that on the half-dozen occasions on which I heard Diz, he really wasn't all that impressive--limiting his solo time, traveling with electric bass players and guitarists, carrying a female vocalist of questionable ability, repeating the same gags, exhibiting nothing like the full, wide-range trumpet sound of the few recordings I'd heard by him from the late 1940s and 1950s. But after revaluation and going back and listening carefully to the recorded evidence, I've become a believer.

Miles was the marquee performer commanding mega bucks for each of his appearances, or "dramatic events": Dizzy may have been playing the low-rent jobs in small clubs, colleges and community concert series, occasionally even making "rock n roll" recordings that made Miles' worst fusion efforts sound like the masterpieces his legions claimed on their behalf. But with the dust finally settling, it's become clear that Diz was the genius, the American Master, the other half of Charlie Parker's heart-beat.

It's gratifying to see that he's getting some of the respect he deserves--through his autobiography, the Burns television series, and most recently Maggin's biography. The book is fat (in keeping with the eventful life of its deceptively fast-moving subject) but moves quickly (Diz, more than any other soloist, made fast tempos a way of playing). Keeping up with Dizzy's travels is a challenge even for a reader, but Maggin, with the help of interviewees like Mike Longo, constructs a coherent timeline. He also brings out the significance of Norman Granz and of Verve records--though I wish he had done more to explore the role of Verve in keeping alive a complex musical language that had been reduced to commercial electronica at Columbia, endless variations on the same modal scales at Impulse, and formulaic funk at Blue Note records.

The book could also use more attention to what the man left behind. The absence of a discography makes it easy to miss let alone locate, for example, the first and only LP (10") made by Gillespie and Parker, a supposedly more accessible Diz and Bird. And what about the curious mid-70s Diz-Stitt recording organized by young Swedes, "The Bop Session," on which Max Roach performed only on condition that Dizzy not get top billing on the record? And perhaps it's no longer necessary to concede that Bird had the edge as an improviser: in fact, it's quite plausible that it was the other way around--but point the reader to the recorded evidence.

Some questions are only partially addressed. Why did Diz' solos become abbreviated and his trumpet sound limited in range and volume after 1960? Maggin mentions dental implants in the 1980s, which doesn't provide much of an answer. What was Diz' (and the author's) response to criticisms that the bebop giant was deficient, on the one hand, in Miles Davis' poignant coolness and, on the other, in Clifford Brown's soulful and passionate romanticism? Also, what did Diz make of the later commercial-popular success if not universal deification of Miles, who occupies too little of the present account (possibly because Gillespie never gave his younger, conspicuously less-gifted successor much thought?). And why is Maggin yet another listener who, despite chronicling the life of a bebop avatar, can't hear Stitt's near-complete dominance of Rollins on the "Eternal Triangle" session (especially the title track)? One wonders if he bothered to go back and listen or is simply buying into the popular and critical partyline surrounding the likes of a Rollins, Coleman, Rivers or Ra. And for Pete's sake, a book about Diz the trumpet player with no mention of his famously grotesque Goodyear- blimp cheeks? (The reason some legit players and teachers don't bother to take him seriously).

To his credit, Maggin doesn't presume to know his subject's thoughts, nor does he make grandiose claims about his subject's irreproachable "rightness in all things"--extravagant indulgences manifested in a recent biography of Miles Davis by an academic writer who comes off less as a scholar than a sycophantic worshiper. (Beware of sociological "paeans to the music counterculture" masquerading as biographies and serious musical studies.) Maggin, happily, doesn't promise a study puncturing the myth while simultaneously fueling and inflating it. And though the book is unlikely to convert those not in the fold, it's an enjoyable, frequently fascinating read for Dizzy-ophiles. The author's subject remains human, even credibly so, to the end.