Left: Jamming with Auckland trumpet player Jim Warren on the ferry to Waiheke Island in the 1940s are Jim McAllum on guitar and Lloyd Sly on piano-accordion. They are on their way to Atwater’s annual picnic. Sly’s family founded the business Sly’s Pianos in 1914, and it still exists today. A multi-instrumentalist, Sly was most proficient on piano, organ, oboe, flute and piano-accordion; before the war he was a member of Epi Shalfoon’s band in Auckland.
l Blue Smoke was only possible thanks to the help and advice of two people: jazz archivist Dennis Huggard and trumpeter Jim Warren. I recently profiled Jim for Audioculture:
WITH A CAREER that spanned the 20th century, a natural ability to swing, and a great sense of humour, it’s no wonder that trumpeter Jim Warren is one of the most popular and respected musicians in the Auckland jazz scene.
At his 80th birthday – 16 years ago – his wife Madeline gave him a new trumpet. These days he gives his “lip” a rest, and prefers to play Duke Ellington standards on his upright piano.
Warren has a phenomenal memory and can recall bands playing in Auckland in the late 1920s: brass bands, soon to be followed by some of the earliest jazz bands in New Zealand. By the late 1930s he was playing jazz professionally, and he heard a visiting swing band. It was a revelation. Sammy Lee and His Americanadians showed him exactly the feel and force with which jazz should be played. More here at Audioculture
Originally published in the NZ Listener in November 2010.
ROCK MUSICIANS AND photographers are natural-born partners: show-offs need an audience, and a Nikon lens loves a show-off. For some photographers, like Auckland’s Bruce Jarvis, the scent of the hunt has been a life-long quest. Shooting first as fans, many become professionals, and Jarvis’s tenacity at capturing live shows secured him access that today’s photographers can only envy.
Jarvis’s work is the backbone of a large-format book Live: Gigs that Rocked New Zealand, that portrays the flamboyant visitors in our midst. From the first international rock’n’roll tour – Johnny Cash and Gene Vincent, in 1959 – to Lady Gaga’s aerobic fashion-show earlier this year, the performers are freeze-framed at the peak of their careers. Some of the images – such as Jarvis’s portraits of a satanic Frank Zappa, an exultant Bob Marley – belong in the rock photo hall of fame. But even more than the performers, it is the settings that resonate. In the background, a vanished New Zealand hovers like a vaguely remembered backdrop.
At the Beatles’ civic reception outside Auckland’s Town Hall in 1964 – how the councillors criticised Mayor Robbie for his generosity – one can glimpse the area now lost to Aotea Square. Out of sight are the 7000 fans who wagged school that morning. Instead, we spot the Market Hotel, one of many Edwardian corner pubs that are long since gone like the Vauxhall Velox seen cruising an almost empty street. Twenty years later, in the same area, a panoramic shot by Bryan Staff shows DD Smash’s drummer Peter Warren surveying a calm, peaceful crowd of thousands. The “Thank God It’s Friday” celebration to welcome the summer of 1984 will soon be renamed the Aotea Square riot.
The surprises often come from the unsung heroes who turn emotion into emulsion: the jobbing photographers rostered on for the day by a newspaper’s picture editor. At the Turnbull Library, saved from destruction, are gems from the files of deceased papers such as the Evening Post. These go beyond the requisite Maori welcome parties, the gimmick poses and the bland equivalents of rock stars kissing babies. Among the treasure are action shots of the Who, smashing their equipment on the Wellington’s Town Hall stage in 1968. Somehow, the Pretty Things’ out-of-control drummer Viv Prince found time to sit for a formal portrait during the band’s notorious tour in 1965. He wears a woman’s leopard-skin hat, the coolest of rimless shades, chain bracelets of the style favoured by bodgies – and across his knuckles, a sticking plaster that testifies to his many scrapes while here.
As glamorous as some of the stars appear – the Temptations, stepping out in the 1970s’ finest flared suits; Roxy Music’s Bryan Ferry, elegant in herringbone tweed – it is the species Kiwi Rock Fan that makes these photos special. Invading the Rolling Stones’ stage in 1966 is an ecstatic fan, resplendent in homemade polka-dot mini skirt. Almost as gleeful are the navy-blue helmeted constables coming to Mick Jagger’s rescue.
Parked ostentatiously before the muslin-clad crowd waiting for Rod Stewart at Western Springs stadium in 1977 is a Ford Falcon emblazoned with Radio Hauraki’s logo. Beside it mooches a deejay in denim flares and manky long hair, while staff members or girlfriends attempt cool in satin jackets and bad posture. Their attitude: we are closer to the action than you.
The images also evoke the months of excitement that once came with the news that an overseas act was about to play “the Springs”. Long before the mammoth 1980s shows by David Bowie and ZZ Top, the Auckland speedway amphitheatre had hosted Little Richard, Elton John and Neil Diamond. For the first time we can see the Rolling Stones’ 1973 show in colour, thanks to a roll of film shot by Lloyd Godman. He didn’t need a flash – they played on a sunny afternoon – and it turns out that Jagger’s diamond-studded, low-cut, satin jumpsuit was turquoise.
Presented en masse, many of these shots have a “They walked this Earth” quality. They also answer the perennial question asked of visitors as they step off the plane: how do you find New Zealand? (It was apparently a wide-eyed Australian reporter who enquired “How many of you are there in your quartet, Mr Brubeck?”).
The Beatles look jubilant, although reports later came back that they described New Zealand as being like Britain, before the war. The Rolling Stones – specifically, Keith Richards – said of Invercargill it was “the arsehole of the World”. We remember these jibes, and almost more than the concerts we remember the interaction that these troubadours – grizzly or courteous – have with the locals.
Contrary to their surly reputation, in 1966 the Rolling Stones look cheerful, with their shirts off, enjoying the sun beside their Wellington motel swimming pool. The Guess Who play an après-gig jam at Tommy Adderley’s speakeasy Grandpa’s (sadly, no one was there to record the night in 1973 that Keith Richards turned up with a guitar and sundry other Rolling Stones).
Afterwards, when the litter has been cleared from the town halls and the paddocks that once hosted festivals, the anecdotes turn into urban legends. The Great Ngaruawahia Music Festival of 1973 is now remembered more for Corban Simpson’s nude performance than for headliners Black Sabbath headlining or the early appearance by Split Ends. Two years later, live on stage at the Te Rapa Racecourse, is Slade’s gormless Dave Hill; he is resplendent in an early mullet, a glitter-pasted forehead, a silver frock coat and platform boots. The promoter of this 1975 one-day festival – the cape-wearing Byron de Lacey – sounds almost mythological.
An Auckland school teacher friend says that every year – for nearly four decades – some 15-year-old aspiring guitar heroes in his class ask him the same question. “Sir, have you heard the Led Zeppelin song Stairway to Heaven?” Yes, he replies. “In fact, I heard them play it live at Western Springs in 1972 – before many of us had heard it on record.”
“Really?” they gasp. “Led Zeppelin played … here?”
The Viv Prince shot is from the Alexander Turnbull Library’s collection of Evening Post negatives. The reference number is EP/1965/3179.
Te Ara – the on-line encyclopedia of New Zealand – has just launched its last section, “Creative and Intellectual Life”. So after 12 years’ work, it will be updates only from now on. It’s a magnificent work that covers every aspect of New Zealand life: history, economy, sport, leisure, religion, science. And finally, culture. I was honoured to be asked to write the entries on popular music. The main one, Popular Music, is 5000 words and covers from the Europeans’ first encounter with Maori – it was a musical encounter – in the 17th century, to the success of Lorde last year. The other, smaller entries I’ve written are on jazz and dance bands, and folk, country and blues. The researchers at Te Ara sourced some wonderful photos, film and sound material. Thanks to Ross Somerville, who in 1998 commissioned from me a profile of the legendary broadcaster Arthur Pearce, which led to this kind of work including Blue Smoke.
New Zealand’s rock’n’roll pioneer was a cowboy at heart. Although in rock histories Cooper is praised for making New Zealand’s first rock’n’roll recording, a cover of ‘Rock Around The Clock’, his most significant release was a self-penned country song, ‘Look What You’ve Done’.
Cooper had a busy, varied career. In the early 1950s, before he ever heard the words “rock’n’roll”, he recorded several country 78s. He toured Korea three times as an entertainer for the New Zealand troops. He wrote what is regarded as the first original New Zealand rock and roll song to be recorded, ‘Pie Cart Rock and Roll’.
The rest of my profile of Johnny Cooper is here at Audioculture.
And here is an audio tribute I put together for RNZ National.
I especially love this photo of Johnny having a singalong with Auckland pop vocalist Pat McMinn during their tour of Korea in 1955 entertaining New Zealand troops. It captures the woolshed party quality of his music, and also the transition between old school pop and rock’n’roll.
The Beatles arrived in New Zealand 50 years ago this week. I was just about to turn five. We had a surprise guest at our panel discussion at Wellington’s Museum of City & Sea on Sunday 15 June: John Lennon’ second cousin, Lynda Mathews. It was her family in Eketahuna that Lennon’s Aunt Mimi visited while she was in New Zealand at the time of the Beatles’ 1964 tour. I didn’t realise Mimi stayed in the country four months, visiting all her relatives.
Both TVNZ and TV3 showed an interest in the “We Come in Peace” talk, and featured items in last night’s news bulletins. The TV3 report concentrated on Lynda, while TVNZ showed archive footage and interviewed the two old enthusiasts who organised the discussion.
For a limited time, here is the Listener “oral history” cover story I did in 1984 – when the anniversary was only 20 years. The hand tinting of Jack Short’s Evening Post photo was by Karen Colebourne. Roughly photographed – but the pages should be readable if you click on them to expand.
© NZ Listener 1984
There is also fascinating, but silent, footage of the Beatles’ arrival in Wellington at the Pathe news site, and a good clip of the airport hongi at the on-line encyclopedia Te Ara, and an article on their eight days in New Zealand at nzhistory.net.nz
On the phone, Stu Buchanan was instantly likeable, and I regret that I never met him. The legendary Christchurch jazz musician – sax, clarinet, flute – wrote me a couple of wry letters after Blue Smoke was published. They were evocative and quick-witted and any criticisms were put across in a charming way. (“You’ve left some things out, but you’ve included lots of things I never knew …”). One letter was about his early years in Auckland, where he was an early devotee of the jazz scene, attending the radio dance band live broadcasts at 1ZB’s Durham Street studio, and witnessing some key musicians. If I’d known that I would have made certain I interviewed him, but I had thought his career began after the close-off date of the book: 1964.
Stu entertained thousands in a playing career of over 50 years, and influenced hundreds of Christchurch musicians as a teacher and an organiser of many bands (he formed the Garden City Big Band). As recently as April he was still playing, but he passed away this week. As a composer, he could be quite edgy, but was always accessible. (In 1989 the Silver Saxes of Stu Buchanan released The Beatles Revisited – jazz versions of early Beatles songs, on which he was accompanied by younger Christchurch musicians such as Tom Rainey, Tom van Koeverden and his son, the drummer Kere Buchanan. Another son, Lyn, is also a well-known, highly regarded drummer.)
On Facebook, John Dix described Stu as “warm and wonderful man, a fantastic musician and a Christchurch institution”, and the young Wellington jazz drummer Reuben Bradley said Stu was “probably the world’s best example of a gentleman and a rascal … definitely evident in every conversation and every ballad he ever played.”
In Jo Jules’s lovely 2009 pictorial history of Christchurch jazz, A Passion for Jazz, there is a lively photo of Stu and others having a blow in the Chook Fowler Septet in the early 1960s. The musicians feature many of the A-team of the era: Harry Voice, Mike Gibbs, Rod Derrett, Chook Fowler and Martin Winiata.
Stu was born in 1930, in the King Country, and grew up on a farm. As a child he enjoyed Hawaiian music and jazz. “The atmosphere of their music was very appealing to my childhood ears,” he told Jules …
I whistled and sang a lot as a child and I guess the extemporising area of music had arrived in my whistling world long before I picked up a blowing instrument. So I just mimicked what I had been whistling.
On YouTube there are some clips of Stu playing with the Garden City Big Band in October 2013, at the CD launch for Hey! What’s the Time? This clip is a medley of tunes from the album.
In 2012 I interviewed Stu and another Christchurch music identity, Neill Pickard, for special edition of Blue Smoke for Radio New Zealand that was devoted to Christchurch music from the 1930s to 1960s. Stu’s first-hand observations of characters such as Martin Winiata and “Mal” McNeill are priceless. The programme can be listened to here, and towards the end it features Stu with the New Zealand Jazz Quartet playing ‘Black Orpheus’ from the Peak album Makin’ Tracks. Also at Radio New Zealand’s website is a profile of Stu produced by Sonia Yee.
This Sunday, 8 June, there is a function for musicians and friends to celebrate Stu’s life at the Woolston Club from 5-8 pm. The Garden City Big Band will play some numbers including some of Stu’s compositions.
I first heard about the Moteo Jazz Band when my friend Walnut sent me a photocopy of their studio portrait. It came from a book of regional history, he said, but I ran out of time to track it down. Besides, I knew nothing about the band. But the photo spoke volumes: here was an all-Maori band, formally dressed, who took their music seriously and proudly labelled themselves a jazz band. Unlike so many early “jazz” bands in New Zealand, there are no novelty instruments.
Moteo is a blink-and-you-miss-it settlement west of Napier, Hawke’s Bay; its paddocks are now teeming with grapes, but the marae is still there, near Moteo Pa Road. To think of somewhere so isolated producing such a well-presented, aware jazz band so early is just staggering – and wondering how they sounded is just fascinating.
This low-res photo of the Moteo Jazz Band comes from the Hawke’s Bay Museums Trust, Ruawharo Tā-ū-rangi (#5692). I presume the woman is the pianist, and that it dates from the late 1920s or early 1930s. Note there is a double-bass player: early jazz bands, such as Epi Shalfoon’s Melody Boys in 1930, used a sousaphone for the bass lines.
The only references to the Moteo band I have found thus far come via PapersPast, in an advertisement from the Auckland Star of 27 March 1928. The band has travelled to Auckland to give three charity concerts, with the proceeds going towards “a proposed hostel for sick Maoris at Ngaruawahia Pa”. Perhaps they were connected with Princess Te Puea; certainly they were well connected enough to play before the Prince of Wales, and the Duke of Duchess of York. Presumably the band entertained Mr and Mrs York – parents of the current Queen – on their 1927 New Zealand tour, when they visited Rotorua and recordings were made of Ana Hato. The Prince of Wales connection is more difficult: later known as Edward VIII, this prince was the Nazi-sympathiser who abdicated the throne in 1936 to marry the American divorcee Wallis Simpson. He visited New Zealand in 1920, which would make the Moteo group New Zealand’s earliest jazz band. I would have to say this is unlikely.
To make matters more intriguing, a friend recently posted on Facebook this image of another impeccably presented Maori band. Is this an earlier version of the Moteo band? As they are using a sousaphone, it is possibly earlier than the photo above. Perhaps there is a connection with the Maori Agricultural College, the Latter Day Saints institution in Hawke’s Bay, which had a strong music programme thanks to their early music master Walter Smith (composer of ‘Beneath the Maori Moon’). Hopefully posting this will provide a few more clues about the Moteo and other Maori jazz bands.
UPDATE: The Moteo Jazz Band did have a connection with Princess Te Puea. The Auckland Star of 1 May 1928 reports that a month after their fundraising stint for the Maori of Ngaruawahia, they travelled to the Waikato town. They took part in a ceremony greeting the Governor-General Sir Charles Ferguson to the “model pa” on the banks of the Waikato River. Stepping from the car, they were greeted by “a phalanx of Maoris, shouting loudly in the native tongue, dancing wildly, waving fronds of greenery and poking out their tongues in true native fashion.” Te Puea – “wearing a mat over her European clothes” – escorted Ferguson and his wife to the front of the Kimi Kimi Hall, where:
a jazz band of Hawke’s Bay Maori men, resplendent in evening clothes, played the National Anthem. Tonga Mahuta, a song of King Rata, spoke a few dignified words of welcome.
After the formal greetings, the festivities began: “A weird Maori chant, in a minor key, was sung by an aged Maor”i … a short programme of dancing and native songs … a solo dance by Te Puea’s husband in a solo dance “full of fire and the lust of combat”, and 11 Maori maidens in a graceful poi dance, singing ‘E Parira’ … the beautiful Niko Kaihau dancing a hula … plus:
a striking haka was performed by the whole assemblage in the body of the hall, one very ancient wahine causing some embarrassment to an immaculate young aide by backing into him in the course of her spirited manifestations of good-will. Six braves, stripped to the waist, performed a terrifying war dance on the electrically lit stage, and with such vigour did they dance in pursuit of an imaginary enemy that the footlights went out!