Albert Ayler was loved by many, both as a musician and a person. Amiri Baraka (formerly LeRoi
Jones) was a highly influential New York based African-American poet, writer and critic who became a leading advocate of Black Nationalism in the 1960s. He first met Ayler in 1963 and saw him as a proponent of Mao's "The Great Disorder" and a leading Avant-Gardist, but with roots deep into African-American culture. He felt the power in Albert's playing reflected Black Power, the assertion of a rightful place. John Coltrane also loved Ayler, promoted him, and got him signed to Impulse Records, releasing Live in Greenwich Village. Musicians playing on the live album included Joel Freedman and Michel Samson.
Joel Freedman
Joel Freedman was one of the pioneering wave of cellists in the new music in New York. Active in several groups at the time, he came to Ayler’s attention while playing in a Jazz Composers’ Guild concert in March 1965.
“I have a confession to make: Before I played with Albert, I had never heard of him. He heard me. I got a call on a Sunday (I guess it was a Sunday morning). He said, ‘I’ve heard you around, up at the Contemporary Center. We're doing this little thing today, you know, some music, over at the Village Gate — some kind of fundraising thing. Would you like to come and join in?’ I said, ‘Gee, I’m a little nervous, Mr. Ayler—’ ‘Hey, man, you can cut this shit; this is not a problem. Just come on and play.’ He just was so calm and so convinced, that he totally convinced me. I said, ‘Can we do a little rehearsal before?’ ‘OK, why don’t you meet me over at the Fat Black Pussycat. Bring your axe, ‘cause we'll have to walk over to the Gate.’ He hung up, and I asked myself, what the hell have I gotten myself into?
I met him. His brother, Donald, was with him. We went downstairs. I sat on a garbage can, took my cello out, and he held up the music. He sang along a little bit, and he took out his horn and he played a little bit. ‘Here’s the head of the tune.’ He corrected me in a few places. ‘Try this; try this feeling. A little more accent here ... that’s great.’ It seemed so simple, so clear. I could hear his music. It was like a march, and I’m playing cello? ...
This guy’s got so much energy and so much sweetness. Very benevolent, very sweet, calm.
It was for the Black Arts; I think I was the only white musician there. That’s another testament to Albert and to his unifying approach to music and to life and to people. We got out on stage, and suddenly I felt like I was in a tornado, this vortex of sound. One of my thoughts was that no one would ever hear my cello; I’m just going to be blasted into oblivion—the sense of being totally surrounded between the power of the drums and Albert’s horn. I heard him complete his solo with that little figure [sings]; there’s no real conscious thought but somewhere I thought I’m gonna pick up where he left off his solo and see where I can go with that. When we finished playing, I felt that my life had been absolutely and permanently altered for the better.”
Michel Samson
After joining the band in Cleveland, Dutch violinist Michel Samson came back to New York with the Aylers and stayed with them at the home of their Aunt Beatrice Hargrove at 454 St. Nicholas Avenue.
“They were worse than poor; they had nothing. We would sit down—just the brothers and myself—in that apartment on St. Nicholas Avenue at times and do what they would call ‘practise’—which was really interesting, because the practising that jazz musicians do is maybe to figure out chord patterns and things like that. But this was not at all like that. They would refer to it as ‘practising soundwise.’ In retrospect it was like—someone has said that music can say things that words can never express. It was that kind of dialogue, that went beyond words. I was telling them on my instrument about me and where I came from, and they were telling me about where they came from. It was fascinating. I’m sure it was as fascinating for them as for me.”
Rashied Ali
“A couple of times Albert and I played at this place on Eighth Street—on the north side, but it wasn’t the Dom; it was another club—between Second and Third Avenues, a place that just had a little room in the back. I think we were just a trio, with Lewis Worrell on bass. Coltrane used to come in and listen to us.
That’s when he was deciding on giving me a gig, because he was checking me out at a lot of places I was playing. Albert said to me, ‘Trane’s out in the audience. ... Shit, what am I supposed to do now? I’m all nervous. ...’ Trane was sitting out in the aisle watching. He used to pull his chair out into the middle of the aisle where people were walking, so he could get a clear view of Albert. I said, ‘Play, man, just play.’ Albert was all shaken up, but it didn’t sound like that when he started playing. Trane loved Albert.”
Reference : Revenant, Albert Ayler - Holy Ghost. Photos by Val Wilmer
Michel Samson has an active Blog, the Expat Epicure http://rebeccahartsellsamson.blogspot.com/
Joel Freedman
Joel Freedman was one of the pioneering wave of cellists in the new music in New York. Active in several groups at the time, he came to Ayler’s attention while playing in a Jazz Composers’ Guild concert in March 1965.
“I have a confession to make: Before I played with Albert, I had never heard of him. He heard me. I got a call on a Sunday (I guess it was a Sunday morning). He said, ‘I’ve heard you around, up at the Contemporary Center. We're doing this little thing today, you know, some music, over at the Village Gate — some kind of fundraising thing. Would you like to come and join in?’ I said, ‘Gee, I’m a little nervous, Mr. Ayler—’ ‘Hey, man, you can cut this shit; this is not a problem. Just come on and play.’ He just was so calm and so convinced, that he totally convinced me. I said, ‘Can we do a little rehearsal before?’ ‘OK, why don’t you meet me over at the Fat Black Pussycat. Bring your axe, ‘cause we'll have to walk over to the Gate.’ He hung up, and I asked myself, what the hell have I gotten myself into?
I met him. His brother, Donald, was with him. We went downstairs. I sat on a garbage can, took my cello out, and he held up the music. He sang along a little bit, and he took out his horn and he played a little bit. ‘Here’s the head of the tune.’ He corrected me in a few places. ‘Try this; try this feeling. A little more accent here ... that’s great.’ It seemed so simple, so clear. I could hear his music. It was like a march, and I’m playing cello? ...
This guy’s got so much energy and so much sweetness. Very benevolent, very sweet, calm.
It was for the Black Arts; I think I was the only white musician there. That’s another testament to Albert and to his unifying approach to music and to life and to people. We got out on stage, and suddenly I felt like I was in a tornado, this vortex of sound. One of my thoughts was that no one would ever hear my cello; I’m just going to be blasted into oblivion—the sense of being totally surrounded between the power of the drums and Albert’s horn. I heard him complete his solo with that little figure [sings]; there’s no real conscious thought but somewhere I thought I’m gonna pick up where he left off his solo and see where I can go with that. When we finished playing, I felt that my life had been absolutely and permanently altered for the better.”
Michel Samson
After joining the band in Cleveland, Dutch violinist Michel Samson came back to New York with the Aylers and stayed with them at the home of their Aunt Beatrice Hargrove at 454 St. Nicholas Avenue.“They were worse than poor; they had nothing. We would sit down—just the brothers and myself—in that apartment on St. Nicholas Avenue at times and do what they would call ‘practise’—which was really interesting, because the practising that jazz musicians do is maybe to figure out chord patterns and things like that. But this was not at all like that. They would refer to it as ‘practising soundwise.’ In retrospect it was like—someone has said that music can say things that words can never express. It was that kind of dialogue, that went beyond words. I was telling them on my instrument about me and where I came from, and they were telling me about where they came from. It was fascinating. I’m sure it was as fascinating for them as for me.”
Rashied Ali
“A couple of times Albert and I played at this place on Eighth Street—on the north side, but it wasn’t the Dom; it was another club—between Second and Third Avenues, a place that just had a little room in the back. I think we were just a trio, with Lewis Worrell on bass. Coltrane used to come in and listen to us.
That’s when he was deciding on giving me a gig, because he was checking me out at a lot of places I was playing. Albert said to me, ‘Trane’s out in the audience. ... Shit, what am I supposed to do now? I’m all nervous. ...’ Trane was sitting out in the aisle watching. He used to pull his chair out into the middle of the aisle where people were walking, so he could get a clear view of Albert. I said, ‘Play, man, just play.’ Albert was all shaken up, but it didn’t sound like that when he started playing. Trane loved Albert.”
Reference : Revenant, Albert Ayler - Holy Ghost. Photos by Val Wilmer
Michel Samson has an active Blog, the Expat Epicure http://rebeccahartsellsamson.blogspot.com/
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