The first thing you notice when you start up the first movement of Duke Ellington’s “The Queen’s Suite” is that you can’t tell if it’s “classical” or “jazz” or “pop” music. That, of course, is a hallmark of Ellington’s oeuvre, his entire career — that it and he were outside of the narrow confines of the labels and genres of music. As he is famously quoted as saying, “There are simply two kinds of music, good music and the other kind … the only yardstick by which the result should be judged is simply that of how it sounds.” That being said, this is the most programatic Ellington music I’ve ever heard. The first two movements in particular are virtual portraits in music of their subjects, as revealed in their titles: “Sunset And The Mocking Bird,” and “Lightning Bugs And Frogs.”
The Ellington Suites is a reissue of a 1973 disc that brought together these rare recordings. They were written and recorded at different points in his career. The first of the suites, “The Queen’s Suite,” was written for and dedicated to Britain’s Elizabeth II. It was recorded in the winter and spring of 1959 but not widely released until 1970. This whole suite is absolutely lovely, but if I had to choose one piece to preserve forever it would be the sublime “The Single Petal Of A Rose,” which is Ellington solo on piano accompanied only by a lightly bowed bass. According to the original liner notes by Stanley Dance, this tune was in particular inspired by the Queen, and was often played solo by him in his later concerts. It and the opener, “Sunset And The Mocking Bird,” have attained the status of standards in the repertoire.
The second of the suites here opens and closes with a fanfare. It’s “The Goutelas Suite,” inspired by a French project in which an old chateau was restored by members of the community. Ellington was invited to participate in the dedication of the restored castle, and he was reportedly deeply inspired by the cooperation involved, by members from all walks of life. He wrote and recorded this one in 1971. The central piece, “Get-With-Itness,” incorporates elements of bebop and avant-garde over a martial beat; very cool.
The third suite is “The Uwis Suite,” written for a festival residency the orchestra spent at the University of Wisconsin. I think this work, recorded in 1972, is my favorite of the lot. The opening section “Uwis,” is a swinging full-band piece with absolutely lovely horn section passages, full of changes in tempo, time signature and mood. But it never makes a big deal of all those musical fireworks, it’s just a casual display of the mastery that Duke retained so late in his career. Next comes “Klop,” a brief, jazzy polka that Ellington put together as a tribute to Wisconsin’s signature dance. Again, there are sly touches of modernism, particularly in the harmonies but even in the arrangement. Finally, there’s a tribute to Madison, “Loco Madi,” nearly 10 minutes of inspired modern jazz. Money Johnson has a spiky solo on trumpet, and then Harold Ashby and Norris Turney face off on saxes. Ellington himself duels with the tenor on one chorus. Oh, and this one has a rarity, an electric bass guitar, played by Wulf Freedman.
This disc ends with an Ellington piece that’s appearing on disc for the first time ever: “The Kiss,” which was recorded in the same ’71 sessions as “Uwis.” The electric bass guitar figures prominently in the Latin-tinged arrangement that at once sounds thoroughly modern and also hearkens back to when jazz was almost purely a dance music. This band could’ve played at Woodstock and would’ve had the kids up on their feet.
This is a highly entertaining album; kudos to Norman Granz for collecting these disparate pieces into one album.
(Concord, 2013 / Pablo, 1973)
