“I’m gonna tell Benny about you”: When Barney Met Charlie

On the occasion of what would be the 88th birthday of Barney Kessel (1923-2004) . . .

. . . and also, remarkably, what is the 53rd of another guitar virtuoso, Howard Alden, a keeper of Barney Kessel’s flame . . .

. . . I reproduce this reminiscence of Kessel’s cited by Wayne E. Goins and Craig McKinney in The Biography of Charlie Christian, Jazz Guitar’s King of Swing (Edwin Mellen Press, 2005, 286-88). 

In 1981, in preparation for a special Charlie Christian issue, Jas Obrecht, who had edited Barney’s column for Guitar Player magazine since the late ‘70s, interviewed him. In that interview Barney elaborated upon not only what Charlie meant to him personally, but also upon the context of jazz guitar playing that Charlie had burst into and then transformed. This valuable interview was never published until earlier this year when Mr. Obrecht posted it on his blog, to which I hope jazz aficionados will turn after visiting mine. What now follows is Goins and McKinney's introduction to Barney Kessel recollection taken from that earlier interview:

One of the places Charles [Christian] dropped by while on vacation, at the behest of a friend who worked there as a waiter, was the Oklahoma Club.  As he worked, the waiter listened to the band blow and was quite taken by a young guitarist whose style had shadings similar to the unique Charlie Christian approach. The guitarist was Barney Kessel, who was still in his teens. Years later, Kessel recounted the incredible story of how he got to know Charlie Christian for Guitar Player magazine:

Around October of 1940 [i.e., the month Kessel would turn 17.--T.F.] I was going to high school and playing with a college band from Stillwater, Oklahoma called the Varsitonians. We were playing three nights at the Oklahoma Club in Oklahoma City during some time off from classes. The first night I was taking a lot of solos on electric guitar, and throughout the evening I noticed that a young black waiter kept looking at the bandstand listening and smiling, and when I would play a solo he would nod and grin. He became very animated and showed me from a distance that he really did like what I was doing.

When we took an intermission this waiter approached me and told me that he did enjoy the way I  played and was surprised to find someone so young playing solo guitar. He went on to say that he knew Charlie Christian. He also said Charlie was there in Oklahoma City at the time, and that he intended to call him and tell him about my playing. Well, I didn’t believe that at all; as far as I knew, Charlie Christian was playing with the Benny Goodman Sextet somewhere in New York—certainly not in Oklahoma.

So in the middle of the next set I was absolutely astounded and bowled over when I looked down and in front of my very own eyes there was Charlie Christian looking up at me, registering his approval of the music and what we were doing. He was tall and very lean, and he must have been about twenty-one then. [Born in July 29, 1916, Charlie Christian was 24 in October 1940.--T.F.] I was just overwhelmed! I guess for me to see Charlie Christian at that time would be very much like a twelve-year-old girl having The Beatles look at her during their hey-day.

He seemed genuinely happy to be in my company, and of course I was delighted to be in his; so when he found out I was going to be in town for two more nights, he suggested that we might get together the following afternoon to jam.  Well, I hadn’t dared to bring this up, just out of respect for his artistry and his stature, but since he suggest it I was all for it.

So that night I went to bed almost unable to sleep, just thrilled beyond belief over being able to meet this man and have him be so nice and helpful. I say it over and over again, because I did respect him so much.

Charlie kept his word, and over the next two days, he spent some quality time with the young Kessel, who couldn’t believe what he was experiencing.

Finally, when we had finished playing and Charlie was taking his leave, I just thanked him over and over for having allowed me to jam with him and told him how I would never forget him or that day. He walked away a few steps, then turned and smiled. I can recall today his last words to me and just the way he said them, they inspired me so much. I lived on these words for a long, long time, and they helped me to build a sense of worth in myself. He walked away just a few steps and turned around and said, “I’m gonna tell Benny about you.”

[Barney would first play in Goodman’s orchestra seven years later.--T.F.]

Happy Birthday, Grant Green (1935-1979)

The basic facts about the legendary jazz guitarist Grant Green's life (June 6, 1935-January 31, 1979) and career can be found easily enough. Here's the Wiki entry for him. Here's the complete discography (although I prefer the more colorful version with its thumbnails of album covers, compiled by a Japanese fan). While he was at Blue Note records, he was its most recorded artist.

A technical discussion of Grant's distinctive tone (over the years: tones) is here. Sharony Andrews Green's Grant Green: Rediscovering the Forgotten Genius of Jazz Guitar, his daughter-in-law's biography, fills in the many blanks left by his albums' liner notes. (Here's Bill Milkowski's helpful review.) 

I prefer to devote this birthday tribute to Grant Green by recalling my long road to appreciating his playing.  


I began playing the guitar shortly after the Beatles performed on the Ed Sullivan Show, and jazz guitar became a topic for me in 1971 when I heard Melvin Sparks on the radio. One by one, I investigated all the names my jazz aficionada mother dropped on me: George Benson, Wes Montgomery, Barney Kessel. A friend of hers, who had played briefly in the '50s, turned me on to Kenny Burrell, and in his living room I discovered one of the more powerful influences on my playing, Pat Martino. (In my mind's eye, I can still see his Strings! album on Charlie's living room floor.) 


A few months passed, and Grant Green's name was in the air, but I knew of no one who really knew or dug his playing. I took it on faith that he was great, and bought one LP album after the other every payday at J&R's on Park Row. Here are three I remember buying (and still have, but listen to them on my iPod):

Unfortunately for my musical ears at the time, however, nothing "clicked."

I wanted "more" from Grant's playing. More what? More notes. Notes, notes, notes. He was a "single-note" player, that is, you didn't go to him for innovations in voice-leading chord progressions from him. I liked that. But I thought others, Pat Martino, for example, doled out in bushels what Grant Green seemed only to be hinting at. I had thought, and continued to think, that Pat and George Benson "said" more. 

"When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things." (1 Cor. 13:11)

I was looking for the evidence that others had apparently found. Several times in the early '70s, before Breezin' changed his life, Benson and I -- separately and coincidentally -- would come into the same New York clubs to catch one or more of Pat's shows, which offered me a chance to chat with him. On one of those between-set occasions (at "Folk City" on West Third Street, as I recall), I asked George, seated on a barstool, straight up: 


"What is 'it' about Grant Green? What am I missing?" 


"Aw, man! . . . "


Smiling easily, but unable to hide a "where-do-I-begin?" look, George began to express his apparently limitless admiration for Grant's musicality.  His touch, his taste and, yes, technique were exquisite (not George's exact words, which not even my diary holds, but those were the bases he covered). Grant's "chops" or technique was perfectly suited to his musical intention. (And what are "chops" without that correspondence but so much unmusical showing off?) His intention was simply to groove, high and hard.

Grant with Larry Young on Hammond B-3. The picture was allegedly taken in 1966, 

making a mystery out of the display of the LP of a '63 recording.

I sensed that perhaps George was merely being gracious: if I couldn't hear "it" in Grant's playing, his words weren't going achieve what only further listening, and living, could.


When I made a firm intention in October 2007 to return to jazz guitar with a renewed sense of purpose, I engorged myself on a great deal of music, much of which I had heard decades ago, but never listened to with the ears of someone who intended to do this one day for a living. Tunes became objects of study, not just vehicles for jamming. 


I bring my autobiographical musings to a grinding halt to say that during the next few years I finally "got" Grant Green. After downloading over a dozen of his albums as .mp3's, I understood and respected his ability to express himself in diverse genres in diverse settings, to lead a trio, a quartet, or a hard bop band that could rival Blakey and his Messengers, or to play whatever was called for in someone else's setting. 

Grant with a 22-year-old Herbie Hancock at piano. 

From the Goin' West or Feelin' the Spirit recording sessions.

Most pleasantly, and surprisingly so, I found myself wanting, not to "sound" like Grant Green, but make others feel the way I feel when I listen to him, the joy and happiness carried by those clean, articulate lines.  That's what his playing exudes. But the process of "entering into" the music of another, like entering into the thought of another, is not something done without intention. 


My appreciation of Grant Green has not lessened my regard for anyone else's playing. It is tinged only with the regret that although I have lived simultaneously with his music (albeit it was "below my radar" until 1971), I was never got to hear him "live."


I cannot repay someone on whom I can count to make me happy with his music, but I can try to pay it forward. 

Enough feeling-diluting words! Here is the only known footage of his playing (alongside legends Kenny Burrell [left], Barney Kessel [center]). Grant solos first. Enjoy it, and then with the help of the links provided above, explore and share his legacy!