Want To Live score. The alto is Dick Meldonian,the baritone is Gene Allen, bass is Bill Takas,and on drums another old face from quartet-sextetdays, Dave Bailey.The instrumentation problem was, I think,one of the things that kept me from getting aband together. I started one a couple of yearsago, and I was thinking in terms of four trumpets,three trombones and five saxes, and I wrotearrangements and even started on an album. Butafter I got halfway through, I decided it was bottom-heavy,too full, and didn’t allow the kind offreedom I’d come to enjoy with the small bands.Also it didn’t have that kind of clarity of soundthat I liked, with the interplay of lines, in thesmall groups.Now the present band gives us most of thepossibilities that we had with the other one, but italso allows for a great deal more clarity. And ofcourse a practical consideration is, if you’ve gotpeople sitting on the bandstand, you’ve got tohave them playing. If they don’t play enough it’sbad for their lips and their horns get cold; theytire of not playing, they lose interest, and contributenothing.Feather: Are you using the clarinet a lot in thereed voicing?Mulligan: We’ve used it not so much as a reedsection sound, but rather as a sound that contributesto the ensemble as a whole. We’ve beentrying to avoid the clarinet lead effect.Feather: Are you aiming this band purely at listeningaudiences, or do you think it might beadaptable to dance dates if you’re interested inplaying any?Mulligan: What I’m really building is a concertband. It’s a jazz band for listening, and there areonly a handful of clubs in the country that canhandle a band like that. I don’t want to thinkabout dance dates yet, until we’ve establishedourselves and are working the way we want to.But it’s fun to play dances occasionally, fun toplay a prom. When we get to feeling like the oldfolks sitting up on the stand watching the kidshave a good time, we play differently. You getvery sentimental and all that sort of thing.Feather: The reason I asked is that JohnHammond said recently he feels jazz is essentiallya functional music and is coming back to that.Mulligan: I’m really not too concerned aboutwhere jazz is going, what it’s doing. I’m concernedabout the entity that I’ve tried to puttogether, which is really quite separate from theentire field of jazz. My answer to John is, thereare jazz musicians who have never gotten awayfrom that. Now if you’re talking about jazz interms of what the avant garde has been doing, orwhat’s the most influential thing with theyounger musicians now, that’s not what I’m basingmy ideas on.But anyhow, by taking the band out ondances now, I would dissipate the band’s poweras a jazz band, a listening band, as a show band.The bands in the ’30s and ’40s did it the otherway around. They were basically dance bands;then the theater shows came along, and thebands that could put on a good show were successful.But at this point there would seem to bea good field for a real out-and-out jazz band,which is what I want. Most bands that have beenput together lately have been trying to reach ahappy medium, and this doesn’t exist; they spoilthe possibilities in both directions.Feather: Do you find it easier to get sidementhan it was years ago? That the level of musicianshiphas advanced a lot?Mulligan: Well, they cost more! But there havealways been good players around. In fact, severalin this band are guys I played in bands with inyears past. There were always plenty of guyswho had technical proficiency, but it took someonelike Lester Young to come along and turneverybody around and show them a new way touse their technique; and then the same withCharlie Parker. So the kind of technical facilitythat these people brought into jazz has come tobe an accepted thing—you either play that wayor you can’t play.Feather: How about your soloists?Mulligan: Well, I’ve approached this band on avery strict premise, which possibly doesn’talways meet with the complete happiness of allthe fellows in the band. In the sextet there werefour soloists. To simplify our own problem andthat of the audience, in this band, too, we havefour basic solo chairs: I’m one, Brookmeyer isanother, the trumpet and tenor are the others. Toa great extent we restrict solos to these fourchairs; as time goes on we’ll find things that willprovide a solo outlet for others. But first wewant to establish some sort of basic approach tothe band.I’ve seen a lot of bands fall into a trap ofspreading the solos around so everybody canplay. Now these are known as musicians’ bands,and one of the reasons they can never establishthemselves with an audience is that the audiencetakes time to be able to understand the playingof each man, and so many players go by thatthey never really have a chance to hear anybody,so nothing really sticks in their minds.Feather: Did you want to have Art Farmer onthe band?Mulligan: Well, all I can say is, I hope Art’sband is a big failure so he has to come back withmy band! No, actually, of course, Art’s bandwas just wonderful when I heard it.Feather: About your movies. Do you think IWant To Live got the recognition it deserved forits musical achievements?Mulligan: Listen, the fact that they not onlydidn’t give Johnny Mandel an Oscar, but didn’teven nominate him, just convinces me of theclosed doors, the private little club that themovie composers have. And they say this is thefirst movie music Johnny wrote. Actually it’sjust the first he ever got credit for—a good partof the good jazz music that was heard in segmentsof other pictures was written by Johnny.They call that ghosting.Feather: You did a little ghosting yourself,didn’t you, I mean ghost playing?48 DOWNBEAT May 2010
Mulligan: Yes, in The Rat Race, they told me Iwas to play a bandleader on a cruise ship, but itturned out they were just throwing me a bone. Itwas a very small acting role and they reallywanted me to play baritone for Tony Curtis—aghost baritone voice. Well, I like Tony and Ididn’t want to be a bad guy, so I wound updoing it anyway.In The Bells Are Ringing, my scene withJudy [Holliday] comes right at the beginning ofthe picture and the whole thing is slapstick. Shetold me she’d had no experience with this kindof thing, and I’d had less than none, so it’s awonder we didn’t kill ourselves! Hitting eachother in the head and breaking glasses and catchingon fire. ... But this opening is supposed to bebuilding to a love story, and it should be a gentlebuildup to her first love song, which she singsbeautifully. But coming right after this comedysequence really kills it for her, so I asked, “Well,it’s nice and everything, but please cut it out ofthe picture.” So they cut out one of her songsand they cut this scene and that scene. But ourown scene, the one that was the root of the trouble,they left in!Feather: Gerry, let’s project a little into thefuture. What would you like to be doing whenyou’re, say, 50 years old?Mulligan: When I’m 50? Well, I’d like to bedoing some of the same things as now—but I’dlike to double on other horns, and play a lotmore piano than I’m playing now. And I’d liketo be a producer in various other fields besidesjazz. I’d love to do some television production,with jazz used on a popular level.As far as the immediate future is concerned,I’m glad to be getting into the position where Ifeel I’m able to call my own shots. I want to takethis band out on the same level of prestige as mysmall bands. I’d like to package my own showbuilt around the band; I’m sick of being bookedon these miscellaneous package shows, and Ifeel my name has drawing power enough to filla hall.The powerful sound-wave on the crest ofwhich Gerald Joseph Mulligan is currentlyriding seems unlikely to diminishin intensity in the foreseeable future. After along siege of hard times, he has found the artisticand economic security that for so many yearsseemed hopelessly out of reach.Perhaps the best summation of Mulligan’sstory, during the weeks I spent talking abouthim to friends and associates, was offered byChubby Jackson, who knew Jeru (as MilesDavis nicknamed him) back in the hungry ’40s.“Some people,” said Jackson, “would sayGerry was stupid in his attitude, but in so manyways it was the most commendable thing hecould do. Gerry wouldn’t conform, would nevergive up his musical principles, even when itmeant starvation. He played true to life the defiancethat every musician of a creative naturefeels. And he’s finally made it. And I say, morepower to him.”DBMay 2010 DOWNBEAT 49