My day with Quincy Jones…

One of the interesting things I have observed about Jazz, which perhaps sets it apart from other genres, is that sooner or later – if you stay the course – there’s a good chance you may meet the very people that inspired you to pursue this music in the first place. The inter-generational aspect of Jazz is an essential part of its development – the ability to look back as well as forward – and the ‘elders’ have always been our greatest resource. Before Jazz Education became firmly established, the best way to improve was probably through a non-verbal education on the bandstand from people three times your age – an apprenticeship of sorts in real time. This ‘authentic’ kind of learning experience is one of the hardest aspects of this music to replicate within a college environment. Those of us deeply involved in Jazz Education would do well to remember (as I heard one of our ‘elders’ say…) that “Jazz was always something you did if you didn’t want to go to college”. There are fewer and fewer jazz musicians now who came up this way and they have much to teach us.

 Back in 2015, the Royal Academy of Music bestowed an Honorary Doctorate on the ultimate ‘elder’, the incomparable Quincy Jones – and the Principal, Jonathan Freeman-Attwood,  asked me if I would mind ‘looking after him’ whilst he was in the building. Alongside accompanying him through the day and guiding him through the ritual of it all, I was also tasked with arranging some of his music to be played at the ceremony… so no pressure there. I was to spend a day with the great Quincy Jones!

I became aware of Quincy quite early on in my life (before his association with Michael Jackson put his name on everyone’s lips he was already a big deal with some of us) largely due to my schoolboy obsession with Frank Sinatra and Count Basie (‘It might as well be Swing’) and this led me to seek out the earlier albums that Quincy had recorded in Europe with his wonderful, though short lived American big band (featuring Clark Terry and Phil Woods) and when I had thoughts of becoming a film composer, I also began checking out some of his film scores (‘The Pawnbroker’ – ‘In the Heat of the Night’). I think it’s important to remember that Quincy had almost a quarter of a century of work behind him before he produced ‘Off the Wall’ for MJ! 

One of the things that always intrigued me – aside from his prodigious output as a composer/arranger – was his experience in Europe in the late 50s when he studied with Nadia Boulanger. Whenever he spoke about this formative time in Paris he would emphasise the rigour of her teaching and how it affected him. When asked what he learned from her he invariably answered “Counterpoint, structure, science, left brain”. Having read other accounts about her methodology it was clear that this was exactly what Quincy needed and wanted at that time. He said “She was THE lady. I learned so much from her – in New York they wouldn’t let you arrange strings if you were black – only horns or rhythm section…” he clearly wanted more. 

I’m not sure how many Jazz musicians she took on but apparently she said…  (according to Quincy – and I’m paraphrasing slightly) “I have to be careful with Jazz musicians because they tend to shack-up with music first and then they ‘formalise the relationship’ later.” In countless interviews he often returned to the same mantras… invariably quoting his old teacher… “You don’t have freedom in music until you have total restriction… restrict yourself and establish the periphery and then you have freedom in music.”  In his biography Quincy was even more emphatic… “When you have total freedom, you automatically create chaos. As a jazz artist, this was hard to swallow until I had to score films on a deadline.” Nadia Boulanger’s influence on him was clearly deep and lasting and he returned to New York invigorated by the experience. 

It is interesting how it seems fashionable now amongst some younger musicians to downplay any training they may have received. Perhaps the image of the naturally creative ‘autodidact’ is thought to be more marketable. Anyhow… the message from Quincy couldn’t be clearer… ‘Get the very best training you can!’

 My day with Quincy began on the steps of the Royal Academy – and from here we were ushered into the Principal’s office to relax whilst his assistant was taken through the geography and layout of the day to check that everything would be manageable for him. This meant that we had a good forty-five minutes together and although initially I was nervous I really needn’t have been. Quincy was interested in everything and everyone – and when I asked he talked a lot about his time studying in Paris and much more besides. It helped a little that I was in the middle of the Miles Ahead project with his oldest friend, Jon Hendricks – and able to pass on his regards. At one point – to the bemusement of everyone around us – we sang through the Oscar Pettiford tune ‘Swingin’ ‘Til the Girls Come Home’ and he talked about living in New York with both O.P. and Jon in the mid 50s. That must have been some hang! He also confirmed a story that Jon had told me of how, when times were hard, they would stand outside the Brill Building in New York and sell their songs for cash to those going in to work there. These are the small pieces of Jazz history that don’t make it onto the curriculum.

When the time came to move on to the proceedings Quincy was duly ‘gowned up’ and made ready for the ceremony to begin. He didn’t seem bothered by the formality of the event – in fact he was very relaxed about it all. I had arranged a big band medley of his ‘Stockholm Sweetnin’ and ‘Soul Bossa Nova’ and he very generously signed my score as we waited.

The buzz amongst all the graduates having Quincy in the building was palpable, and he could not have been more gracious to all those around him. The big band played really well and I think he was pleased to hear Stockholm Sweetnin’ – which he wrote when he was eighteen! There was a defining moment – after his citation had been read and his Honorary Doctorate presented – when he turned around to the students and raised his fist up high. To see one of the elders of our music stand astride the Halls of Academe like that, every inch the conquering hero – a Colossus even – was a moment I’ll never forget… my worlds had truly collided. 

 And then, after the ceremony, Quincy sat and had refreshments with all the students – it was all pretty relaxed. At one point he quietly flicked through my score page by page whilst we sat in silence. These moments stay with you.

      
And then he was gone. 

The postscript to this memorable day was that whilst we were holed up in the Principal’s office, Quincy gave me his card – and said to get in touch if I thought he could be of any help. I did get in touch and I did ask him for help. I needed to somehow get my choir, the London Vocal Project, to New York so that his old friend Jon Hendricks could hear us sing his Miles Ahead project – his lifetime’s work… fifty years in the making. Quincy came through! Wheels were quietly set in motion… access to funds, the email of his Travel Agent and a covering letter for each choir member to get us through U.S. customs (Trump had just been elected!). But that’s another story…