#SCUTTLEBUTT ARTIE SHAW FULL#

When he went upstairs like that, I worried about his health, because the veins at his temples would bulge alarmingly. I was amazed that he still could pop out those piercing high notes, but he did, with frequency.

#SCUTTLEBUTT ARTIE SHAW FULL#

Roy and company were in full cry that night.

His smile, which he flashed often, was dazzling. He was very handsome, but by then had salt-and-pepper hair worn in a short Afro, and wore thick glasses. He was about five feet six, but still had a rather athletic build. In the late 1970s, Roy Eldridge was in his mid-sixties. (Above right: John Keveanos and Matty Walsh outside of Ryan’s at 154 West 54th St. Just beyond the bar, on the same side of the club, was the bandstand. Walsh’s attire that night and every night we returned to Jimmy Ryan’s was: charcoal gray slacks white, long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and black necktie. Ryan’s was probably 50 or 60 feet long from the front door (which was a couple of steps down from the sidewalk), to the back wall, and about 25 feet wide.The bar, which was to the right as you walked in, was probably 30 or 35 feet long, and was patrolled by a pleasant man whose name I soon learned was Matty Walsh. Ryan’s was on the south side of West 54 th, with Condon’s on the same side of the street but a couple of doors east. When we entered, we were pleasantly surprised to find the place packed.This was approximately at midnight. The band’s hours at Ryan’s were brutal: something like 9:00 p.m. He eyed us and quickly concluded that we were two young hicks without money, then said to us: “Yizzl have to move on.” With that he shunted us into the club. He had a well-chewed stogie in his mouth.

We then trekked over to Ryan’s.Outside the door was a short, stout, fleshy-faced man of about 60, who was wearing a door-man’s uniform, including what resembled a police officer’s cap on his head. Photo by Nancy Miller Elliott.)īefore we went to Ryan’s, we attended a performance of the Jazz Fest which I cannot now recall. Roy’s nickname, “Little Jazz,” came about because of his small stature, and the fact that he was all about jazz.) (Above left: Roy Eldridge – late 1970s. (NOTE: Although the sign on Ryan’s front awning/sign read “Dixieland,” I can assure you that the music played there by Roy Eldridge and his band was swinging mainstream jazz. When I told my friend about this, he was very agreeable. I immediately resolved to go to Ryan’s that night to listen to Roy. I considered Roy to be a bona fide giant of jazz. I knew his recordings with Fletcher Henderson, Gene Krupa, and Artie Shaw from the swing era, and had a few of his later records as well.

The attraction at Ryan’s was the great Roy Eldridge.

To my surprise, within plain view below were two jazz clubs on West 54 th Street: Eddie Condon’s and Jimmy Ryan’s. Immediately upon entering our room on the south wall of the hotel, I opened the window. (It has since been turned into an apartment building.) On our first stay at the Gorham, we arrived on a sweltering July afternoon. We always stayed at a small hotel on West 55 th Street, directly across from the old Mecca Temple (now the New York City Center), which was then called the Gorham. The mid-summer Newport-New York Jazz Festival, as it was then called, was always the main attraction for us, but we explored many other jazz venues as well. So we eventually made three or four trips to Manhattan together. I had a friend who was somewhat more musically inclined than I, who fortunately was also very interested in this kind of musical exploration. The story: In the mid and late 1970s, I was fortunate enough to make several trips to New York City with the specific purpose of trying to hear as much music and see as many jazz musicians as possible.

Scuttlebutt artie shaw