Ben Webster and Coleman Hawkins or ‘Frog & Bean’
Written by Board member of the Ben Webster Foundation Frank Büchman-Møller
The tenor saxophone wasn’t Webster’s first choice of instrument. He first played violin while still a school boy, but later he took up the piano which he played professionally since around 1927. The following year he played for silent movies in Amarillo, Texas, and here he met the brothers Budd and Keg Johnson, tenor saxophonist and trombonist respectively. Ben became interested in Budd’s saxophone, so Budd showed him the fingering and how to produce a sound. A little later Ben borrowed an alto saxophone from his neighbour’s daughter, and in 1930 he bought a tenor which fitted him better than the alto.
At the time, Coleman Hawkins was the most influential tenor saxophonist in jazz, and a featured soloist in Fletcher Henderson’s orchestra. Actually, Ben had heard Henderson already in 1926 while attending Wilberforce College in Cincinnati, but he hadn’t noticed Hawkins that much because he, as a pianist, was more interested in listening to Henderson’s piano playing. But becoming a tenor saxophonist himself, he tried to learn from Hawkins and others of the time’s leading tenor soloists, such as Prince Robinson.
On December 18, 1933, Henderson’s orchestra came to Kansas City. Ben was then playing in Andy Kirk´s Twelve Clouds of Joy, one of the best Kansas City bands, in part due to pianist Mary Lou Williams’ excellent compositions and arrangements. He and Williams became fast friends, a friendship that lasted until Ben’s death. After Henderson’s concert, Hawkins and bassist John Kirby went to the club Cherry Blossom to listen to an ongoing jam session involving several of the city’s best tenors, including Lester Young, Herschel Evans, Dick Wilson, Herman Walder, and Ben. They invited Hawkins to sit in, and much to Kirby’s surprise he went back to his hotel to get his saxophone. At that time Hawkins would never join jam sessions. Apart from Lester Young, who had a style all his own, Hawkins was an idol for the other saxophonists, and they were all eager to show him how much they had learned from him. Count Basie was also attending, and he remembers that Hawkins went up and played with them for a while, and then when he got warmed up, he started calling the tunes to be played in all the most different keys, such as B major. The jam session lasted until the early morning, and only Hawkins and Lester Young were on the band stand at that time. Hawkins was scheduled to play in St. Louis that evening, so he had to stop and get in his car. The evening turned out to be a historical one, between a new and a traditional saxophone style with Young winning and Hawkins losing. Ben remembered it as a special night on which Young played particularly hot. His performance that night earned him a reputation of a rising star among musicians.
European conquest
In early 1934, Hawkins went to Europe where he stayed the following 5 years, playing in England, the Netherlands and Scandinavia. Ben, on the other hand, learned more and more from records with Hawkins, and finally the pianist Clyde Hart told him that he now sounded just like Hawkins. Ben got the message, left all his records with Hawkins and record player with his family in Kansas City and began listening to other saxophonists like Johnny Hodges, Lester Young and Benny Carter.
In the autumn of 1939, Hawkins returned to the USA, assembled an orchestra and recorded among others Body and Soul, a tour de force that set a completely new standard for how to interpret this lovely ballad. During the same time, Ben recorded twice under Lionel Hampton’s name, the first time in the frightening company of among others Dizzy Gillespie, Benny Carter, Chu Berry and Hawkins. Here, Ben is lacking form and ideas, whereas he next time seemed inspired and relaxed.
Hawkins’ version of Body and Soul made a lasting impression on Ben, who in the summer of 1942 made a home recording of the ballad which is very interesting. The tune lasts almost 5 minutes, and is played entirely solo. Ben’s sound is exquisite and soft, and he never becomes overly emotional. Here and there he plays Hawkins-inspired figures, but otherwise he is totally himself, finishing with a beautifully expressed line.
The next recording session with Ben and Hawkins took place on May 17, 1944. The band was called the (Georgie) Auld-Hawkins-Webster Saxtet. In general, Hawkins pulls the longest straw, putting his two students in their place. On this first commercial recording of Salt Peanuts, Ben follows Auld in a mediocre, growl-filled solo, after which Hawkins enters, bringing the tune to a masterful conclusion. In the concluding chorus of Uptown Lullaby, Ben plays the B-part as beautifully as one might expect.
The Great Record date
The next recording with Hawkins took place on October 16, 1957. The rhythm section consisted of the Oscar Peterson Trio plus Herb Ellis on guitar, and the result was outstanding. The atmosphere is not competitive. The two old friends obviously enjoy each other’s company, finding stimulation in the other’s performance, never letting it deteriorate into a cutting session. Ben interprets the ballad It Never Entered My Mind wonderfully, caressing the theme with a tone that almost sounds like a cello.
Ben and Hawkins often ran into each other in New York, some times at the bar the Copper Rail. Hawkins was 5 years Ben’s senior, and Ben took the opportunity to tease Hawkins about his age. Ben would say to Hawkins that “the first time I saw you I was still in short pants”. And Hawkins would reply, “That was not me. That was my father!”
On April 9, 1959, Ben once again recorded with Hawkins. The other horn players were Roy Eldridge and Budd Johnson, and it became a fine session resulting in a lot of good music. Budd Johnson plays with an easy flow, while Hawkins mostly comes up with routine phrases. Eldridge does a fine job, building his solos well. The rhythm section swings excellently, and Ben is in control throughout. His performance is more pensive than usual and less direct, coarse and aggressive. Of everyone, his playing is the most varied and effectful.
During the 1950’s jazz festivals began turning up, among them Newport, Monterey and Los Angeles. Ben played two concerts at Monterey on October 2-3, 1959. The first one with blues singer Jimmy Witherspoon plus Hawkins, Roy Eldridge, Earl Hines and Mel Lewis among others. The band is inspired, and in the rocking Big Fine Girl Ben starts up a series of backing riffs that lift the music an extra notch. In the slow Ain’t Nobody’s Business he plays two lyrical and sensitive choruses that fit Witherspoon’s vocal like hand in glove.
The following afternoon, he and Hawkins were part of a group announced as the Three Saxes with avant-garde jazz musician Ornette Coleman as the third part. Unfortunately, the group was never documented on record, but a reviewer wrote, that “one of the most stimulating performances came from Ben Webster, Coleman Hawkins, and Ornette Coleman. This was a study in contrasts, with Webster and Hawkins embodying the virile tradition of jazz and Coleman hinting at another and esoteric direction that may be in its future.”
Calm and collected
That same evening, Ben and Hawkins drove back to Los Angeles to perform at the first Los Angeles Jazz Festival at the Hollywood Bowl. Eldridge was also member of this group, and with an effective rhythm section they did only two numbers, but the audience was yelling for more, when they got off. A reviewer wrote, that “Hawkins played bitingly on the first, fast number, inspiring Eldridge to follow him and build logically to a series of stratospheric blasts before Webster entered, calm, collected, and dynamically effective. The second number, a medium tempo blues, was testimony to Webster’s jazz immortality. His long solo moved thousands to quick applause, applause that was still crashing down upon the stage after the number ended and the Basie band swung out onstage.”
In early 1964, Ben ran into pianist Joe Zawinul who was then playing in Cannonball Adderley’s quintet. Zawinul asked Ben, if he would move into his New York apartment while he toured with Adderley. Ben accepted with joy, and stayed there also while Zawinul was not traveling. The neighbor was Coleman Hawkins, and the three of them used to play together almost every day. Zawinul remembers, that “they always had this competition, even though they shared the greatest among friendship and respect. Ben was a great ballad player, the best, and we played Duke Ellington’s Come Sunday with difficult changes, you know. For instance, I would go down in the elevator with Coleman and he said, ‘Listen, man, write down the changes for me. I’ll come up some time when Ben isn’t there so I can check some of the changes out because I will burn on him on that ballad.’”
In February 1964, Ben and Hawkins initiated a new series of jazz concerts at New York’s Little Theatre accompanied by Paul Neves, piano, Major Holley on bass, and Eddie Locke on drums. The room’s acoustics were an asset for Ben, and as a reviewer wrote, “For those who relish Mr. Webster’s rich, sinuous lines, this was a real treat, for he has suffered more than most of his colleagues at the hands of amplification systems. He was in excellent form, playing lyrical ballads and surgingly rhythmic pieces with calm, unruffled authority. There were depth, variety and economy in his playing, qualities that were not always evident in Mr. Hawkins’s performances.”
‘Can you whistle the tune?’
In December 1964, Ben moved to London to play in Ronnie Scott’s Club, after which he went to Copenhagen to play at Jazzhouse Montmartre. Ben never returned to the USA, as he had much to do in Europe. November 25, 1966, he performed on a television show in Denmark with some of the musicians from the previous evening’s Jazz at the Philharmonic concert: Coleman Hawkins, Clark Terry, Dizzy Gillespie, Teddy Wilson, Bob Cranshaw, and Louie Bellson. Ben, Wilson, and Hawkins played a practical joke on producer Sten Bramsen. Ben and Hawkins had each played a solo tune with the rhythm section, and the plan was for them to play a tune together. Bramsen suggested the well-known Honeysuckle Rose. Hawkins grunted, “Don’t know it”, and Ben added, “Could you please whistle the tune?” Wilson said, “I’m not familiar with the changes!” In the end, they nevertheless played Honeysuckle Rose.
Ben and Hawkins met at Ronnie Scott’s Club in London around Christmas 1967, Hawkins was playing there until January 1968, when Ben should take over, but Ben arrived quite a while before in order to hear his old friend. A review offers an interesting comparison of the two. “Hawk has lost a little in lyrical tone and in ability to sustain notes, but nothing in ideas, or daring, or big sound, or, above all, in his ability to swing. Webster, by contrast, has kept all his tone, which was always rather silkier, dreamier, sexier than Hawkins’s – pastoral rather than urban. He is as much the arch-romantic of the the Thirties and Forties as Stan Getz has been of the Fifties and Sixties. But he does not now seem to push himself in search of new ideas as Hawk; nor does he take so many chances. Hawk gambles furiously all the time – and it will be splendid if he becomes, as much of an annual fixture at Scott’s as is rare Ben. Both are irreplaceable.”
The last time the two colleagues played together was on January 17, 1968 at Reading University in England. A private recording reveals an inspired Ben airing many new ideas without falling back on routine solutions. Ben played first, and his set was given a roaring response, after which Hawkins went on stage for four tunes in which he played constantly. He seemed tired, and even slightly unsure rhythmical phrasings pops up here and there. The overall impression of Hawkins was, that he was fragile on this date. Indeed, upon returning to London, he was diagnosed with pneumonia.
So many Friends
In April, 1969, Ben moved back to Denmark. He had for three years made Amsterdam his home, but he was tired of the constant racism there. “I stayed with a cold, like, down there,” he explained to an English journalist. “But as soon I went back to Denmark the cold disappeared. But there are so many friends there, and there are so many friends here in London and England, and I have so many friends in Copenhagen. It is so good to see the friends, and that’s what I play for, to see my friends smile.”
On May 19, 1969, Hawkins died, 65 years old. Ben took it very hard, and for a while he was depressed. But Hawkins hadn’t taken care of himself. For some years he hadn’t eaten a real meal, relying on brandy stirred up with an egg, only. Ben lived 4½ years longer, only. He got ill during a job in Leiden, Holland, on September 6, 1973 at the Café Sociëteit De Twee Spieghels, a students’ hangout. After the last tune, and following the applause, Ben addressed the audience, saying, “Thank you! Now I will say to all of you youngsters, what I heard when I was a kid from an old-timer. He said, ‘Son, you’re young and growing, and I’m old and going. So have your fun while you can.’”
The young audience seemed to understand him, and they applauded. However, they had no way of knowing just how prophetic his short speech would be.
After the job, Ben’s condition worsened, and arriving at the hotel in Amsterdam, he was helped to his room. The following day, he was admitted to Lucas Hospital, where he was given the diagnosis of coronary thrombosis. He had lost consciousness the same day and did not wake up until a couple of days later. He got a little better for some days, but on September 20, he died at the hospital. He was flown back to Copenhagen. The funeral was at Bispebjerg Crematorium on September 28. Priest and author Johannes Møllehave held the service, and Kenny Drew played on the organ All Too Soon, Chelsea Bridge and Come Sunday, a few of Ben’s favorite ballads, which he had given his most deeply felt and powerful interpretations.
After the service, there was a wake at the Jazzhouse Montmartre, and later Ben’s ashes were buried in the Assistens Churchyard in Nørrebro, and old cemetery where Ben joined the company of many famous Danish people, including Hans Christian Andersen, Søren Kierkegaard, and writer Martin Andersen Nexø. Several memorial concerts were held afterwards, the first on October 4, when Roy Eldridge was featured as a soloist with Arnvid Meyer’s orchestra at Jazzhouse Montmartre.
Frank Büchmann-Møller
Author of Bio’s for Lester Young and Ben Webster a.o.