Logan Center Blues (I)
“The doctor came, lookin’ very sad
He diagnosed my case and said it was awful bad
He walked away, mumblin’ very low
He said, ‘He may get better but he’ll never get well no more’
I hollered, ‘Lord, oh Lord, Lord, Lordy, Lord
Oh Lordy, Lord, Lord, Lord
I been so badly misused and treated just like a dog’
I’ve got a long trip and I’m just too weak to ride ”
“Tired of weeping
Tired of moaning
Tired of crying over Covid
I’m so glad
I’m so glad
I’m glad, I’m glad, I’m glad”
The third biennial Logan Center Bluesfest opened late Friday afternoon just as the trees lining the Midway Plaisance began their annual color change, which will be followed in a week or two by the drop. The Festival is the brainchild of Chicago blues harpist Billy Branch, who called Logan Center Executive Director Bill Michel six years ago with a simple question: “Why does the Logan Center do jazz, but not the Blues?” Michel was amenable, as he usually is, and we are now all the better for it.
Of course, Covid-19 was ever present this weekend: Proof of vaccine, the ubiquitous masks, and capacity limited to 80%. But Covid can’t keep the Blues down on the killing floor.
George Freeman, Billy Branch, and Mike Allemana. Ninety-four year old George Freeman, together with Mike Allemana, and the aforementioned Branch opened the weekend with 90 minutes of music and conversation. Most impressive was the reverence and love that both Branch and Allemana showed toward George the Bomb, as Freeman is sometimes known. Freeman reciprocated, which made for an intimate experience. We were all in on it, hoping that Branch might invite us to his house for some cornbread after the session.
Aside from the stellar skills on display, the careful amplification stood out. Rather than overpowering the audience, the three chose small, “handheld” amps. The results far surpassed anything Led Zeppelin ever did. The harmonica is often associated with trains rolling down the line. With Branch, you could hear that lonesome whistle blow as the train moved across distant plains; he added plenty of reverb. Freeman’s small amp provided note-engulfing tremolo that accentuated the plucks and strums a-popping off his guitar’s strings—all elliptically geometrical. Together, Branch and Freeman transported the audience back to Maxwell Street’s heydays. When Allemana joined in for a rendition of All Blues, I was transported to the streets of Montmartre. I continued my late night stroll through the streets below Sacré-Cœur Basilica when Allemana and Freeman did a duet on Frantic Diagnosis.
Midway through the set, Branch and Allemana put their instruments down, yielding the floor to Freeman for a good 45 minutes. In reminiscing, Freeman revealed that he decided to make Chicago his home despite the siren’s call that frequently tried to pull him from his natural orbit. Freeman’s father, a Chicago policeman, infused music into young George’s blood. By befriending musicians, the cop with the beat brought the music into the family’s living room. Frequent visitors included Louis Armstrong, Earl Hines and Fats Waller, which helps explain why George and his two older brothers, Von and Bruz, all became professional musicians.
Freeman chose the guitar after seeing T-Bone Walker on the sly, and subsequently found himself under the tutelage of Walter Dyett, the famed musical director at DuSable High School. Eventually he headed to New York City with his friend Johnny Griffin, who had taken a position in Lionel Hampton’s band. It was in Harlem that Freeman was exposed to the likes of Charlie Parker, Thelonious Monk, Max Roach, and other be-bop pioneers. Like Dean Acheson, Freeman was present at the creation; the be-bop revolution was a cultural hydrogen bomb. Since those days, Freeman has played with many luminaries, including Parker, Gene Ammons, Coleman Hawkins, Clifford Jordan, Sun Ra, Ben Webster, Lester Young, and several leading lights of the B6 organ. Presumably he played with John Coltrane when Freeman met Trane while visiting Philadelphia.
It may have been the heroin that was so prevalent in New York that brought Freeman back to Chicago, as he recounted what plagued many musicians working in Harlem. Particularly notable was Freeman’s stint with Jackie Wilson in the early Sixties. Freeman was very impressed with Wilson’s stage antics, as well as his ability to get the girls. Surprisingly, Wilson didn’t know who Freeman was, despite his presence in Wilson’s band.
Most recently, Freeman has been playing the blues with Branch, as well as playing jazz in a two-guitar configuration with Allemana, who just earned his Ph.D, having completed his dissertation, “Will You Still Be Mine?”: Memory, Place, Race and Jazz on Chicago’s South Side.
I had seen Branch and Freeman do their blues gig at the Chicago Jazz Festival immediately prior to the Covid’s onslaught. It was a very enjoyable evening, but the performance in the Logan Center Penthouse far surpassed it. Other highlights included Where’s the Cornbread?, which appeared on the album they recorded together, and Back Drawer’s Down, adding Allemana back to the mix.
One thing is for sure: Someone should give Freeman the stage for eight hours. He would easily transfix the audience with the many tales that he has to tell. I hope someone is recording an oral history.
[Click on Enlarge an Image]
George Freeman with Guitar on Lap
Billy Branch Has a Laugh
“Where’s the Cornbread, George?”
Billy Branch Takes a Solo
Mike Allemana Playing
George Freeman Playing
Alone Together
Descendants of the Blues: After Allemana, Branch, and Freeman took their bows, I headed down to Cafe Logan for some pretzels and a cookie (i.e. dinner), and then I went to the main performance space, where I was pleasantly surprised: I did not need to present my vaccine card again because I had the magic wristband. After chatting briefly with photographers Janet Mami Takayama and Paul Natkin, I took my seat in the fourth row, along with my long-time friend Jeff Sosman.
Some families pass down the hardware store to subsequent generations. With others, it is the family farm. On the South and West sides of Chicago, it is the Blues. Friday night’s main event featured Lurrie and Steve Bell, Ronnie Baker Brooks, Shemekia Copeland, and Demetria Taylor. Together they paid respect to their pioneering parents while thoroughly entertaining the near-capacity audience. Copeland is the daughter of Texas blues guitarist Johnny Copeland—Texas isn’t that far from the South Side of Chicago, at least in spirit if you are from the right parts of Texas; Baker Brooks is the son of the late Lonnie Brooks; the Bells are sons of the late blues harpist Carey Bell; and Taylor is the daughter of the late Eddie Taylor and the brother of the recently deceased Eddie Taylor, Jr.
The proceedings went largely as might be expected. First up was Ronnie Baker Brooks, together with a bass player, pianist, and drummer. As the evening unfolded, Brooks became the de facto MC, first playing four or five songs, then bringing out Demtria Taylor, then Lurrie and Steve Bell, and finally Shemekia Copeland. The two-hour set put each performer in his or her best light. Steve Bell’s walk into the audience while blowing harp was a crowd pleaser, as were a duel that saw Brooks and Copeland square off. I must confess this style of Blues—loud and rocking—is not my favorite format, but I did enjoy the evening. I particularly liked the images—many of which taken Paul Natkin—projected behind the musicians showing their parents performing.
[Click on an Image to Enlarge It]
Ronnie Baker Brooks Squeezing Out Sparks
Demetria Taylor (with a Photo of Her Father in the Background)
Lurrie Bell Under Cover
Festival Artistic Director Matthew Skoller Makes a Few Remarks During a Break in the Action
Steve Bell on Harp
Ronnie Baker Brooks, Steve Bell, and Lurrie Bell
Shemekia Copeland Reaches Deep
A Smile Graces Her Face
The Duel
See Part II for the rest of the story.
Copyright 2021, Jack B. Siegel. All Rights Reserved. Do not alter, copy, re-display, or redistribute without the prior written consent of Jack B. Siegel.
