Ted's notes for The Mancini Project
Henry Mancini’s love of jazz was apparent by the approach he took when composing for film and TV. He moved away from the heavy symphonic treatments that had been used by composers for a time by employing jazz motifs and using smaller ensembles. He was also known for his use of unorthodox instrumentation and his "cool jazz" sound. Certainly, tapping in...
Ted's notes for The Mancini Project
Henry Mancini’s love of jazz was apparent by the approach he took when composing for film and TV. He moved away from the heavy symphonic treatments that had been used by composers for a time by employing jazz motifs and using smaller ensembles. He was also known for his use of unorthodox instrumentation and his "cool jazz" sound. Certainly, tapping into Mancini's rich legacy as a base for a creative project is a worthy choice on its own, but for me it was also personal.
I grew up in Los Angeles in the 60s and 70s, a time many consider to be the heyday of the film industry's outpouring of original music by great composers, one being Henry Mancini. I had the good fortune to be exposed to this great music in a unique way: my father and uncle, Dick and Ted Nash, were both prominent studio musicians, firmly ensconced in Hollywood's film scene. They were present on just about every film score and record of Mancini’s during that time. Ethmer Roten - my saxophone, flute and clarinet teacher - also played with Mancini, and was featured along with my father and uncle on the weekly TV show “The Mancini Generation”. Once a week the family would gather around the television, excited whenever we’d get a glimpse of dad.
I was home one summer afternoon (practicing, as usual), when the phone rang. It was my father in a panic, asking me to bring his baritone horn to a recording session he was in the middle of. I jumped into my metallic-blue VW Bug and hit the road, with my sax strap still hanging from my neck. When I got to the studio I ran straight into the control booth. All heads turned sharply to see this sweaty teenager, in shorts and t-shirt holding an instrument case. “This is for my father who’s in the studio...um...I think he needs it right away.” A voice responded, “Yeah kid, you can go right in.” I went back out into the hall and saw the door leading to the studio. Above the door the “recording” sign was on. Well, they told me to go in, so I did. What did I see? None other than Henry Mancini at the podium in the middle of giving the downbeat for a take! Seemingly in slow motion: his baton reaching bottom, his head turning to me, his face with an expression of “What - are - you - doing?!” Sheepishly, I looked over at dad. He looked mortified, and with a single finger he motioned me to bring his horn. I walked quickly across the studio floor, amidst restrained chuckles, and handed him his case. I said sorry, and left. My first time meeting Henry Mancini.
My earliest memory of being really excited about music was at the age of six seeing The Great Race, a Blake Edwards film with music by Mancini, a score that featured my father on trombone and baritone horn. This was also the first time I really connected with what it was my father did. It was around this same time that my brother Bill and I discovered in my parents’ record collection a somewhat scratchy LP of The Pink Panther. He and I would dance along with the record for hours, pretending we were playing all the instruments. My favorite part was mimicking Plas Johnson's memorable saxophone solo on the famous theme. Even before I knew I would be a saxophonist, I was drawn to the sound and expression of this instrument.
Mancini often used my uncle on the bass and alto flutes to create a feeling of suspense and mystery, which became one of his signature sounds. Included on The Mancini Project are two pieces using the alto flute, paying homage to both Mancini and my uncle. My uncle, in his autobiography, describes how Mancini developed this idea of using the lower flutes in his music. They were on a lunch break during a record date when Hank started a conversation:
“‘Have you ever played jazz on the bass flute?’ I had to reply that the bass flute was so cumbersome and slow responding, that I never thought it would be too conducive for jazz. I told him that the closest I'd come to it was when I worked on the movie, The Pied Piper of Hamelin, and had to play the bass flute for Van Johnson as he lured all the rats out of the village and over a cliff. When that didn't seem to impress him, I suggested that after we eat, we go back to the studio and see what we could come up with.
Throughout lunch, all he could talk about was his new project - a TV film pilot that producer Blake Edwards had just finished making, which featured a hip private eye and his girl friend, who sang in a jazz club called Mothers. Blake had asked Hank to look it over and try to come up with a totally different approach for a music score. It's hard to believe, but prior to this, no dramatic show had ever used jazz for its underscoring, and Hank thought that this would be the perfect time to break the ice.
So what happened? Not only did he break the ice, he broke the sound barrier as well when both the show and Hank's career took off into outer space. The private eye who benefited from all that jazz was, of course, Peter Gunn. Along with being an immediate success, it also became the role model for all the jazz-scored detective shows that followed.
Back at the studio, I was ready to give my bass flute its big chance for stardom. Hank used to be a flute player himself, which put this performance under high scrutiny. Fortunately, his instructions gave me a pretty good picture of just what he wanted - ‘Give me some ominous sounding things on a minor modal chord, and throw in a few outside clashers here and there for excitement.’...I took a deep breath - a bass flute takes a lot of wind - and played him some menacing kind of things in a quirky, funky style. Looking for a reaction from him, I caught a slight grin with a twinkle in his eye, but then I realized - he always had a slight grin with a twinkle in his eye.”
This project is a departure from my usual approach to conceiving a record. Being a composer, my recordings often feature my own material. The Mancini Project celebrates the diversity of this great composer. Frank, Rufus and Matt play beautifully and join me in reinterpreting the music - making it feel as if it were a record of original compositions.
About the Artist
DownBeat Magazine recognized Ted as a Rising Star in the alto saxophone category in 2004, 2005, 2006 and 2007 as well as a Rising Star in the tenor saxophone category in 2003, 2004, and 2005. Still Evolved made the Best CD list in 2003 and the Best Jazz Album list in 2004.
Born in Los Angeles, Ted Nash's interest in music started at an early age. Exposed to music and encouraged by his father, trombonist Dick Nash, and uncle, reedman Ted Nash (both well-known studio and jazz musicians), young Nash started playing the piano at age seven. At age twelve he began playing the clarinet and a year later picked up the alto sax. While in high school, he studied jazz improvisation with the innovative teacher and vibraphonist Charlie Shoemake.
Ted’s first gig came at age sixteen, playing a week in Hawaii with legendary vibraphonist and bandleader, Lionel Hampton. That same year he won an audition to play lead alto with the Quincy Jones band. By age seventeen Nash had toured Europe, appeared on three records, and was performing regularly with Don Ellis, Louie Bellson, and Toshiko Akiyoshi, as well as with his own quintet.
Ted’s first composition, “Tristemente,” was recorded on Louie Bellson’s record, Raincheck, on which Nash played with the late trumpeter Blue Mitchell. At age eighteen, Nash moved to New York City recorded his first album as a leader, Conception. Ted also became a regular member of the Gerry Mulligan Big Band, the National Jazz Ensemble, and the Mel Lewis Jazz Orchestra – of which he would be a member for more than ten years.
In 1994, Nash was commissioned by the Davos Musik Festival in Switzerland to compose works featuring a string quartet in a jazz setting. This project led to the formation of his group, Double Quartet, and the recording of his CD Rhyme and Reason, voted one of the best releases of 1999 by Jazz Times Magazine.
La Espada de la Noche (March 2005), reached the #1 position on the CMJ radio chart. The Village Voice said, “…ripping, dramatic, and only slightly ironic… describes everything else on saxophonist Ted Nash’s new tango album.” Odeon’s previous release, Sidewalk Meeting, landed on several "top ten" lists for 2001, including The New York Times, Village Voice, Boston Globe, and the New York Newsday, as well as the 2002 Downbeat Critics Poll for best jazz CD.
Cited as a “Rising Star” on tenor saxophone in 2003 and tenor and alto saxophone in the 2004 and 2005 DownBeat Critics Polls, Ted can be heard on several other Palmetto releases: the Herbie Nichols Project – Strange City; with Ben Allison – Medicine Wheel, Third Eye, and Riding the Nuclear Tiger; and with the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra with Wynton Marsalis – A Love Supreme and Don’t be afraid… the music of Charles Mingus.
