My name is Monk Rowe and we are in Buffalo,
New York filming for the Hamilton College Jazz Archive. I'm very pleased to have Mr. Al Tinney with
me today. AT: Thank you. MR: It's a pleasure to meet you after reading
about you. I always like to think of a nice way to start
and I think I'll use something you said in one of your interviews and that was when you
put your foot in something, something usually happens. AT: Oh yes. After several decades something should happen. MR: Something should happen. AT: Like you wait a long time for something
to happen and all of a sudden there it is. It's funny. But it's something that you have to wait for. You can't push it. That's the funny thing. It's like phone calls. Sometimes you're waiting for a phone call
and if they don't call you when you think they should you have the urge to call them. Like what's up. And if you wait, you say okay, I'll wait a
few minutes longer. And then your call comes. You see? MR: It's all in the timing, isn't it? AT: Yep. Patience is virtue or something like that. MR: Yeah. That's right. AT: I have no idea. MR: You seem to have stressed in some of the
things I've read that you really like to have some organization in your playing. And I think about those jam sessions in Monroe's
and all that, and you seem to have a need to put some organization to it? AT: To the playing or the-
MR: To the whole ensemble I guess. AT: Oh I guess - you know some things you
just can't harness. You have to just let them go on their own. It seems to form its own self. You know what I mean? MR: Right. AT: And so this organizational mind of mine,
it's sort of methodical. I like, you know like on my job I have a certain
system that I use to play, which is - it's not chaos but there's no strictness to it. There's no commitment to it you know. We get on the bandstand and I'll start off
an introduction or something - an interesting thing, a young man, his name was Meister - Jeff
Meister - drums with Michael Sidisky. And he plays with us sometimes, with Advantage
you know. When I need a substitute he comes in. And the funny thing he said is who counts
off? Because there was never anybody - I never
count off. I set a tempo by the piano and then I'll hit
- and - MR: And you're in. AT: Yeah. MR: Well Count Basie used to do that, didn't
he? AT: Yeah, that's right. Well maybe I'm using the tricks of the old
trade or the old tricks of the trade. MR: Maybe he stole it from you, what do you
think? AT: I'm not that old I don't think. I'm not that old. But like I say we didn't have this format
when we came to Fanny's. It just developed as the time went by. It didn't take us long to do this because
I have two exceptionally fine musicians, you know, the drummer is Louie Marino, and the
bass player Sabu Adeola, who, he's wanted all over town by the right people. MR: Right. He's not on a wanted poster in the post office. AT: He has - we all have our faults - his
is being late. Like on jobs he comes in after you expect
him. MR: I see. Kind of like the phone call you were talking
about. AT: Yes. So that's the thing with organizing something
or trying to put something in a trap. Sometimes it'll evade the trap, it'll avoid
the trap and try to do something else. So like I say the system that we had developed. It wasn't meant to be, it was just you know
the same tunes I know, and you give the drummer the right key-
MR: That's important. AT: I always say to the drummer "E flat." And so and the bass player, who is very comfortable
almost in anything, this Sabu, he's an all around person. And I just - sometimes I'm into a tune and
the vocalist comes in, she knows when to come in, and the bass player doesn't even know
what tune we're doing. MR: I see. AT: Like I look up and I say, "Ooh I'm sorry,
man, we're in E flat." While she's singing I'll tell him this. MR: Well that's a good way to lead I think. It keeps people on their toes. AT: Yeah, what's that saying, I don't know
whether they came from India or England, but he governs less - he that governs best that
governs less. Something like that. So I have several of these things in my mind. Like don't answer the phone on the first ring. All these things. MR: Well that's funny because you don't want
people to think that you're just sitting by the phone waiting to grab it. Right? AT: Yep. Okay so that's about where I am there. MR: Well one thing that I'm really interested
in is your childhood memories of New York and just growing up. You were born in 1921 is that right? AT: Yes. A long time ago. MR: Do you recall as a child anything special
about the depression years? AT: You know we never had the chance to actually
think about it as young people. I mean that was the older people's - that
was their thoughts on that. But as a young person I grew up and I had
a pretty nice life. We had great Christmases, great Thanksgivings,
man it couldn't have been any better really. We never thought we were poverty stricken
or anything like that. We were normal, rich kids. MR: You had a rich family life? AT: Yes. A rich thinking family. Because my mother was very frugal. That's what made the difference. She knew how to spend or not spend a dollar. She was very - I don't know, I did not pick
up on any of that. None of it wore off on me. My money goes before I get it. MR: Really. AT: So I can't say I'm good at that. I probably could be if I just could say no,
if I could use the word no to people that come to me - I have certain people that come
to me for money, a certain person rather, I could personalize. And I just can't say no to blood. Can't say no to the kids. So I don't know whether I'm being an enabler
or what you may call it but I'm a parent first, an enabler second. But like going back to my younger days, we
had like I said great Thanksgivings and great Christmases. You couldn't ask for anything better. MR: Your mother sounded like she was pretty
determined to have her kids in show business? AT: Oh God, yeah. Ma saw all these Shirley Temple pictures and
the Nicholas Brothers, and well anyhow, regardless of what she thought it was a contribution. We made a contribution. Because as kids we went out and worked these,
you know like club affairs and things like that. And we were the entertainment. So it was money in our hands and in her hands,
that she knew what to do with. So that's about the size of that. MR: When you took dance lessons, what kind
of dancing were you required to learn? Was it tap dancing? AT: Yeah. Tap dancing and gymnastic type things, acrobats
you know. I was pretty good at tumbling, blum-blum,
flips and stuff. MR: Yeah. AT: Yeah. And we did little stage shows with this dance
school, it was the Willis Lane Dance School - man, my mind is sharp. MR: Whew - got the names, wow. AT: They were a dance team that finally wound
up married and had opened a dance school. And my mother saw this ad or they called or
something, you know how they do. And we became all of a sudden a part of this
thing. And there was a selection of about six or
five kids that this school or this man of the school decided to give us - like say you
had sixty kids going there, but you took five people out of this and made like a small show
out of them. And my sister and I were one of them and there
was another guy, the Padgetts, it was brother and sister, and there was this girl singer
called Rae Harrison. I predicted great things for her but it never
developed. She went sidewards I guess you might call
it. She got into a club and stayed there and the
longevity ruined her I think, you know a continuous thing. She became part of the furniture. So she didn't really want to go anywhere. MR: Were you known, like in school, did you
and your brother or your sister have this kind of like reputation as entertainers? AT: No not really. Not in the school. Except like I had bit parts in school plays,
like as a bird or something, sitting on a desk with bird crap on. But never any for what I wanted to be. And I think I was too early in the music scene. But they did select me for these plays, to
do something. You know one play they had me doing - what
is this guy called - Flip Phillips, when he did that woman thing, that girl thing? MR: Oh Flip Wilson? AT: Yeah. He's a comedian. Well anyhow he does this imitation of a woman. MR: And you got to do that? AT: I got to do one of those impressions,
uncomfortably, because I think they put high heels on me and I'm wiggling. But that was the extent of my vaudevillian
life. MR: Well you went from being a woman impersonator
and a bird to being in a Gershwin production, so that was quite a leap. AT: Yeah. Ooh that was heavy. MR: Yeah. AT: The transition there was heavy. But like when I first realized what this thing
was, this Porgy & Bess was, it was - they had rehearsals at a place called the Gill
Theater. And it was just a little theater. And on the stage there was like
long boards or something, and Coca Cola boxes and they went from one to the other, and entrances
would be marked where to come in for people. And I says damn, the school plays were better
than this. You know I didn't realize that something different
was coming up. Then I heard the music. I heard the chorus under Eva Jessye Choir
and his Chorus, and they were singing these parts that sounded very different from the
choral things I'd been hearing. And one day I got up there and in between
the breaks and stuff I got up and I looked at this music and by the way I had been studying
like from ten years old and I was going to this teacher four, five days a week, every
day a different page. So I was reading like specks and stuff. What's that? Oh that's just the dot you know, so I'll read
it anyhow. So anyhow I'm up there and I'm reading this
score and I'm seeing how beautiful this music is and then one of the chorus or someone said
would you play that? Can you play that for us for a minute while
we-" and it became a news item. I was 14 at that time. It says young pianist or something, plays
Gershwin's music. So that's how that developed. MR: Right. And then people started wanting you to almost
be like a rehearsal pianist or something so they could work on their parts? AT: Well not exactly because there was strict
union things. They had to adhere to their contracts. See my contract was as a juvenile kid in the
village, which by the way, Gershwin would give me more things to do than I was getting
paid to do, you know? I don't know how much he thought I was getting
paid, but at first he had me take - I was the goat guy, I was the goat, and I had to
make friends with this damn thing with the horns you know, and I would be the one to
lead Porgy out on his initial entrance, lead him through the gate and up to the - sometimes
this damn goat didn't look like it didn't want to stop and the pit orchestra was there
and I'm putting on the brakes you know, I'm saying stop. So that happened a couple of times. But then there were different goats in different
towns or sometimes different goats on different occasions. You know what I mean? But I had my time with those goats. That was not a happy situation. MR: I see. AT: Yes. But that was my thing there. And then he had me, there was a man doing
the shoeshine bit in tempo with, the tune was "I Got Plenty of Nothing" which had a
nice -so there was a gentleman doing the shoeshine bit. So he says, "Let Al do that." You know? Man, what next? Here I go I'm doing the patted - you know
with the patted beat? - things like that. Then all of a sudden he comes up with there's
no one up there in the hurricane scene for that, to rattle the shutters, you know, as
the wind blows. He says, "Put little Al up there." I said damn. MR: That's what you get for having rhythm. He knew that you could do it, right? AT: Well you know the funny thing, this is
where I learned how to conduct. Because I was on the right stage up on the
second floor and the conductor was right down below me. Alexander - what was his name now - well anyhow-
MR: I had it written down. I can't remember either. So you had to watch him? AT: No I didn't have to watch him. But sometimes they would look up and my shutters
weren't rattling because I'm busy looking at the conductor. MR: You were fascinated by what he was doing? AT: Yes. I liked what he was doing and what the sound
of the orchestra - when I heard that music I said this is no child's play here. You know? And when I saw the scenery, oof, God. Catfish Row. That's what I call my street now - now that
you mentioned it, one day, about Monk and us, maybe I'd better call this little place
where I live Catfish Row. Because of your last name. So I labeled it Catfish Row. MR: Nice. Well how did the audiences respond to Porgy
& Bess at the time? AT: Oh controversial. I mean they didn't know whether it was an
opera or whether it was a musical you know. And I'll tell you, it had more meat than it
did potatoes. This thing went, I was only in the initial
performances of it. But this thing went all over the world. I mean I'm in school while this thing is still
going on, and people were saying we wish we had a Porgy & Bess in this town, you know
and that town. And I just had a book lately that expressed
all these things, that Porgy & Bess was doing diplomatically world wide you know. And I said gee, I missed all of that. MR: Did you get, in the theater when you were
working, did they have an integrated audiences? AT: Yes, yes in the theater. But I went on a - what would you call these
things now that people go on - almost like a circus. And I went on this one, this circus bit like. And I was the band director for it. And they were separated audiences because
we went to the seaboard, all the way down south. And there was audiences, half this side, there
was a rope down the middle. MR: Oh the old, the rope thing. AT: Yeah. And what the hell, it wasn't bad, I mean everybody
knew what was happening. MR: What they were supposed to do. What year would that have been? Or around what time? AT: '39 I think it was. "38, '39. Something around there. MR: And did you have an integrated band? AT: No, no I didn't have an integrated band. I had comedians and whatnot. And one comedian, he used to knock me out,
he would have this black face stuff on you know, and he would get in front of the audience
and says, "Yep it was me and these six other white boys standing on the corner." And I used to crack up every time he said
that. I don't know why. But it was funny to me you know. It was funny to me. MR: Well it must have been a little hard for
you to function well in school, wasn't it? When you were doing these shows and things? AT: No because they made special privileges. They took me out of one school and put me
in another school that was mainly for kids who were working - something - I don't know
how it was turned around, but anyhow I know I had certain days out of school. I think I went maybe to school one day a week
or so, something like that. Well because there was a performance every
day. MR: Do you recall what you got paid? AT: What, in Porgy & Bess? MR: Yeah. AT: Ten dollars I think it was. MR: Ten dollars per? AT: This is what this manager, who had all
of us kids under contract, this is all the kids got. That's all. MR: Was it ten dollars per show or ten dollars
per week? AT: No ten dollars per week. This guy was - he was reaping up the money
man. But he had a separate contract with the management
of the theater and a separate one with us, showing the mothers and things how much - see
I mean in those days that was a bit of money, in those days. You could do something. And my brother and I were in it so it was
double. MR: Right. Twenty dollars a week. AT: Yeah man. MR: And the way your mother was, she could
really stretch that. AT: Yeah man, she was great with it. She was great with it. Yeah. So it wasn't hard. We were doing what she wanted us to do. She wanted us to be in show business and we
just went ahead and did it. MR: She must have been happy, at least at
that point. AT: Yeah, oh man she was happy. She was happy up until the day I decided I
didn't want to do that, I wanted to be a musician. And then she gave me an option or an alternative
to either live with her or go live with my father, who was a musician also. And they had separated so I had my choice. I went with my father for a while because
of the liberal attitude he had. MR: I see. What was it about being a musician that upset
her? AT: Because I was like my father. My father was a musician and her and him couldn't
get along and there was this controversial playing. MR: So she said well you want to be like your
father then go live with him? AT: Yeah. Not in those words but anyhow that's how I
wound up. And her - they couldn't get along, it was
terrible. There was fights and whatnot. But other than those little fights we had
a great life, we had a great family life, until the day of separation. Other than that it was-
MR: And you were what, 17 or 18 at that time? AT: No I was younger than that. MR: Younger. AT: Yeah they had been separated a long time
before that. I was maybe 15, somewhere around there. I can't orchestrate the exact date. MR: Right. And you got around the city by yourself in
those times? Did you take the subway and all those kinds
of things? AT: Oh yeah, yeah. I was city slick. MR: City slick. Nice term. AT: Yeah I knew how to get around and had
my little ways. One day I decided to play hooky from school
and found it to be the most boring thing I'd ever witnessed in my life. You know? I'd hear all these kids, "Hey I'm playing
hooky tomorrow." Man this must be great. Guess I'll play hooky. And I played hooky and I couldn't find anything
to do because all the kids was at school, so there was nobody - oh man it was terrible,
terrible. So as a result I stopped playing hooky, because
I had no explanation as to where I was or what I did. And the report came back to my mother. "Where were you, what did you do?" And I.. MR: It wasn't worth it, right? AT: It really wasn't worth it. It really wasn't. MR: I'm curious what kind of music would have
been played in your house when you were growing up? Did you have a record player? AT: Yeah. You know my father had a band, he had about
an eight or ten piece band. And the trombone player was a piano teacher
and that's how I got into being taught how to play. But the music was - you know I really don't
know because we weren't home that much. Actually as kids we were out in the street
all the time and the only time we would actually have time to listen to music was at dinner
time. We ate at six o'clock every night. Six o'clock you'd better be home. MR: I see. AT: And that's probably about the time, and
then we shut it off to eat I guess. MR: Would it have been radio? AT: Yes radio. Yeah, the first time I saw the radio come
in the house I'm looking behind it to see the people. Where is he talking from? I was very curious. I'm looking behind the thing, the tubes and
stuff. That was a really exciting thing for me to
hear this radio and these people talking. And my father was sort of a ham too, a ham
radio operator. He liked to build sets you know. And he built his little keyboard and he used
to get other voices on it, you know, and it was interesting. Like the truck drivers use today. MR: Right. The CBs. Do you recall when the term "jazz" became
known to you? AT: When I first started that's what it was
called. MR: And that was the kind of popular music
of the time? AT: Yeah. And then it developed into swing with the
big bands. But jazz was the first word being used, and
I think it was a terminology of the brothels. It came from the brothels. They'd say, "Jazz me baby" and all that. And then it developed with the big bands into
swing, swing time, and from there it just went helter skelter. MR: It sure did. AT: Every man for himself. And that's what happened. And out of that division of bands and musicians
came everything: came bop, and bop I think was the first offspring of it. And then came the - what do you call this
abstract jazz? This stuff that played out of tempo and all
that? MR: Yeah, free jazz. AT: So you're still getting some more influence
in the music that wasn't there, but what happened I guess, if it wasn't for that we would still
be listening to the same music over and over. So what these people are putting into the
music today is really good for the music, it's good for the feel. MR: Were you able to dance at - did you go
to see swing bands and dance for those things? AT: Yeah I used to go to the Savoy. But it wasn't to dance, I was there to listen
to the band. Sometimes I'd get kicked on the ankle, you
know, while I was listening. I used to love the Coleman Hawkins Band. He had a concept which I liked. It was the bass player and the drummer soloing
at the same time. MR: Really? AT: But that was great because I think the
bass was just playing straight fours or something, but in his own way, and the drummer was playing
different beats alternately, sort of contrapuntal sort of playing. That's why I liked that band. Most of the other - and Ellington. I don't care what I was doing it stopped if
the Ellington sound came on. I loved the Ellington band. Some of the things I didn't understand but
I knew they were great because of the sound. They had that sound with the baritone leading. MR: Yeah. What a master orchestrator. AT: Yes he was. And I learned how to do that when a friend
of mine, Bolow Abdullah I think, yes, he had a workshop. And it was formed of like guys who just wanted
to come down Saturday early and work out - you know how people workout? Well this was a workout for musicians. So they came together and then guys would
bring other fellas and he asked me to take over this thing because - to take over this
workshop because he had to go on an assignment to like Gowanda or somewhere. He was into this rehab thing. MR: Gowanda, right. AT: Yeah Gowanda. So I took it over. But when he got back I had a band. I actually had a band and they were playing
stocks, but they weren't playing them sharp enough for me. So I heard this Duke Ellington thing called
"Normins" - "Snibor" is a tune. It's Robins backwards. And anyhow it seemed simple enough to get,
and I was able to steal the right notes and orchestrate it, he had the right notes. And I wrote this orchestration out, I think
it took me about 15 minutes. Because if it takes me any longer I'm through
with it. I've got to do things just like that. So anyhow I wrote down the score, a four line
score that's all I had. And I would choose the voices out of these
four lines. And solos, and the backgrounds. Everything was done out of these four lines. And so I took it to this rehearsal. Now these guys were having difficulty with
the other music. I took this thing down one Saturday morning
and I said, "Fellas, you want to try this?" And you know what? They played it like they had been playing
it all the time. And the sound was there. The Ellington sound was there. And so we decided we were going to make this
workshop the Ellington workshop like. Then I wrote other things, I wrote a thing
called - copied from him of course - called "Jam with Sam," and it featured a trombone
player. And I wrote the solo out and everything. And this was the best solo this guy ever did,
but he loved it and we played this at the auditorium in Buffalo downtown, and it got
a standing ovation. And I says hell, what'll I do now? I don't want to go back to the top, so I'm
going around to each section, Section E, Section E, Section E, okay here we go. Don't start at the top, start at the middle
somewhere. But this went over great man. And I never saw that in Buffalo, like at the
auditorium. I mean yeah, nice, but a standing ovation,
that was something, wow, man. That was really great. So I chalked that off as an achievement. Okay I'd orchestrated, I'd done that, and
I'm through with that part because who's there to orchestrate for? You know there are no large bands, all the
bands are small groups. And so I just said okay, check it off, on
that, I've played piano for eighty - not eighty, seventy years almost, and I've done this and
I did that and I just check them off now. So now I lay in the bed and I watch T.V. and
people say, "You should be up doing something." I say, "Look, I waited eighty years to do
this, what I'm doing. And everybody's telling me to get up and do
something. MR: You deserve the time to sit here and watch
television, right? AT: So what is this? They're taking me out of the bed. MR: Yeah they want to impose their own thoughts
on what you should be doing, right? AT: Yeah. And I don't want to do that. I waited to do this. I couldn't wait long enough. I didn't stop until I was 70 you know, and
I was working at a behavioral center for young men and I found myself on the floor a few
times, trying to break up fights and whatnot, and it was something for me to really get
out of. I shouldn't have been in it that long, not
at 70 years old. But it was an enjoyable feat I'll say, because
I was supposed to be a music instructor, but different things would - you know how-
MR: Sure, discipline problems. AT: Yes. They used to have a saying, if it isn't sex
it's violence. One comes out of the other. And you had some of that going on there - fights
about whose mate is whose. So there wasn't anything to be done about
that. Go ahead. MR: When - it's hard I think for people who
talk to you about the days, the bop days, to remember that a lot of the fellas you played
with and that played with you were not big names like we think of them. AT: That's right. MR: And we always think of those days and
wow, Charlie Parker and Benny Harris, and what a thing, it must have been an amazing
thing for all those people. But at the time everybody was just learning,
is that right? AT: That's right, that's right. It was like the school. You know I had the band. The Boston Club made me the musical director
for the band. And he let me hire who I wanted, and that
was another workshop scene. I was doing the writing there for a small
combo and I didn't quite accomplish what I wanted to writing there. Because there was another guy that was writing
and his writing sounded so good, you know I couldn't match that so I just gave up writing,
until, and that was in the forties or something. And I just gave it up until I wrote for the
big band. And I said oh I can do it. But anyhow, like you say, bebop, I'd never
heard of that name until I went overseas. And a young man came overseas and I had this
band, the 201st Army Ground Forces Band that they made me director of that out of - not
out of desperation choice or whatever, but anyhow a sergeant left a note that when he
left for them to find me. And I wasn't - I was at the hospital. And these guys found me in this hospital and
they transported me to the band that was supposed to get me, but that band was leaving to go
to the United States. This was in Germany. And this band was going home. But I didn't want to come back to the US. I wanted to stay over in Germany longer. I don't know why. But anyhow there was another band, that 161
or something, and I said I'll stay here, because this was the only chance I had to work as
a conductor. So I stayed as the conductor for that band. And plus I signed up for six months longer. I said I must be crazy. But I had everything there that I wanted to
work with. I had musicians and bands and stuff. MR: Was it playing military music or was it
playing swing music or all of that? AT: It was both. I made a swing unit out of the military unit. We used to do parades and things like that,
and I would select a guy to be the guy that looked good, you know a nice tall guy to be
the band director, and I would just stand on the side as the musical director. But anyhow out of this big band I made a show
like. I had a small band, like a six piece or seven
piece group out of all the stuff, and then I had the sixteen piece band and I had a guy
who liked to sing, and I had a guy who liked to tap dance and tell jokes and stuff, so
I made a show out of it. I said hey, we're in show business. MR: All right. Play for the officers' club and things like
that? AT: Yeah, yeah. Well not really officers, other companies,
other Army companies that didn't have any that wanted entertainment, we'd go over and
play for them. Yeah it was nice. MR: Was the service pretty much segregated
at that time? AT: Definitely at the time I was in it was
segregated. But I didn't know it. I mean to me I had always lived like this. But I lived in the ghetto neighborhood, I
didn't realize anything then. I don't know where my mind was. None of this bothered me. MR: Well when you're in it, and not observing
it, I think it's different. When people write about it later and make
- maybe at the time it wasn't a big deal it was just the way things were. AT: You had a few spokesmen in the race that
knew what was going on or wasn't happy with what was going on, and wanted to change it,
you now, not realizing that in some instances they were putting people in jeopardy you see. Like they were taking - actually when they
did that they - what do you call it - saturated the black teachers and stuff out of jobs because
now anybody could come in and get those jobs you see. Before when you had - you understand where
I'm coming from? MR: Yeah I think I do. AT: Yeah. They were actually black positions you might
say. And these were gone. Anybody could take - like even just a janitor,
now it was open to anyone. MR: I see what you mean. So by opening things up it was almost detrimental
to some people. AT: That's right in some cases. Although - and it's funny that time, time
is the essence of anything that happens. Like the phone calls. If you wait the time will develop its own
self and that's what should have happened but didn't happen. See the pressure was being put on and these
marches in Selma where the kids were trampled on and the water thing, and you know when
all of this would have developed in a sense of time. I would say that wouldn't have been necessary. A great leader, a man who led them was killed
by it, and so I really don't understand why we won't wait for that phone call. MR: That's a good way to put it. You said something else that I had read kind
of in that regard and it was about people calling certain entertainers Uncle Toms? AT: Uncle Toms? MR: Uncle Toms, like that they were - and
you had said that these were the people who paved the way for the important people to
follow them. AT: That's right. They were the backs of what we stepped on
to get where things are today. Like Steppin Fetchit. He was one of the great ones. And most of the black comedians were really
- they had foresight. They would make fun of situations that soon
developed into a situation of reality. So we have them to thank a lot for whatever
happened. But things you see, and why I say that is
because things have not really changed. Things have not really changed. In fact there is development on this supremacy
thing right now. The Ku Klux Klan or something, you still have
things like that that have not obliterated any of the feelings, and they're out campaigning
against the black thing, and the blacks are trying to overcome, still trying to overcome. So it really hasn't changed anything. And then now you have the influx of foreign�
oh well we're all foreigners to put it, you know, but now you have the Asian thing that
you didn't have before, as much as you have now, and now you've got what to me seems - I
don't understand how it happened - but when the Polish people were in dominance in this
part - in Buffalo you know - there weren't signs and things up in Polish. But now that the Latin people have come here,
now you have signs and things in Latin. And I'm saying why? What happened? What transition is this? Now we have to learn two languages. Now that's another case that I see where the
Latin people who come here that know how to speak English and know how to speak Latin
can mop up the jobs that require bilingual techniques, see? Now it's difficult for say a person to go
in that speaks Latin or Spanish or whatever and there's a black person there that's a
receptionist or something and she don't know how to deal with this. "Lucy, will you come here? I can't understand what this gentleman is
saying." She's not going to have that job long. See? You have to have a bilingual quality in order
to - that's one thing about it. So I stepped out of line one night. I was at a little table in Fanny's and there's
another Tinney in Buffalo called Herb Tinney. And his daughter married a Latin person. And I'm just rolling off at the mouth about
the job saturation you know. Not realizing I'm saying some of these insulting
things. I mean they weren't really insulting, they
were factual. But facts sometimes are sort of, and I didn't
realize it. So I had to apologize. But when I went - this Tinney that I'm talking
about, works at the library downtown. And when I went downtown one day to the library
where he works I said, "I'm sorry," but he says uh huh, you were right. He said because a friend of mine says you're
going to insult him that he was going to have to learn Latin in order to speak to his grandchildren. You see? So I wasn't wrong but I was wrong in the time
and place. MR: Right. You were a little too honest for the time
and place. AT: Yeah, yeah, yeah. But as they left we were all shaking hands,
you know. MR: Yeah. Well that's a very interesting point you make
about people creating separateness with the language and not seeming to want to assimilate
into what is here. AT: Yes. When I went overseas anybody could speak English
as a second language. You could speak to anybody over there in Germany
- I was in Germany, France, and everybody "oh hello, you speak American?" MR: You had some other really interesting
things I think you've said, that you were never awe-struck by anyone. AT: That's right. Only by the clouds and the heavens. That's the only thing. Like some people will say Art Tatum, you know. Art Tatum, he was a good piano player, he
was about the best piano player around. But you know the funny thing is he knew every
damn piano player in the neighborhood except me. You know what I mean? This kind of - not bothered me much - but
it made me wonder. And every time somebody would say, "Hey Al
did you ever meet Tatum?" And I says here we go again. He lived up - oh hey man and I'd shake his
hand and he never recognized me as a piano player. I guess because I never sat down behind him. I sat down before him once and played and
he sat down behind me and I don't know whether that was something funny there or-
MR: Maybe he felt a little threatened by you? AT: You know I'm telling you man, this was
funny because there was a movie starlet called Isabel Jewel - I don't know whether you heard
of her or not but she was way back in like the Hopkins people and all that, but her name
was Isabel Jewel. And she came down to this Monroe's Uptown
House with one of the stars from Billy Rose's Aquacade. And I'm coming off the stand, now this is
going to hit you in the head man. I'm coming off the stand and she jumps up
out of her seat and hugs me and says, "You're better than Art Tatum." I just thought this lady does not know piano
players. But it made me feel good but then I don't
know, but it didn't strike me as being a big compliment because of her competence as a
person to acknowledge who is who you know what I mean. MR: Yeah. I would take the compliment though. AT: Yeah well I kind of take it like that. Especially with the big hug and stuff. She was a wonderful woman. But anyhow that's another thing that kind
of bothered me or that stuck with me through the years I'd say. And I came all this way, 81 years, to find
you, Monk Rowe, to tell this story to. MR: And I appreciate hearing it. You know we like to think, those of us who
weren't there again, we think that everybody got along all the time, that musicians liked
each other and all those things, and musicians are just human beings too, right? AT: I would hope so. Yeah. There's only one thing, there is a difference. We're more a diplomatic sect. And most people are. Like a plumber or something like that would
not rub elbows with the kind of people musicians rub elbows with. And we have to like be on our toes as to what
we say. Like I say I made that mistake, that social
mistake, and other people wouldn't even regard that as - they'd say ah what the hell. But with us we have to, this can be - that
could have been told to my boss, and like hey your piano player doesn't like Latin people. But in another situation, a situation would
be ah the hell with him. MR: Do you think that's partly because on
the bandstand you're musically always negotiating with each other? AT: Yeah. I think so. We have a connection - I think I told my bass
player one time, we were talking and I don't know whether it was about money or not, I
doubt if it was money because these guys never complained about the money - but I says, "You
know man," I said, "it isn't all about the music." And why I said that I don't know. I said, "It isn't all about the music it's
more or less about the camaraderie of the musicians. Some musicians you work with you don't really
like to play with them because they may get on your nerves or may not play up to par,
you understand what I mean? And they're actually at your coattails to
help them. But there is a level, several levels of playing. And if one doesn't reach your level or something
then you're uncomfortable with that. And you hope that the night goes faster than
it did. MR: I love the comment you made about at jam
sessions and so forth that the people that don't play very well usually play the longest. AT: Right. MR: That's a great comment. AT: Yeah they have the longest throats. Oh man that's terrible. Because the guys that know how to play, they
make a statement and that's it. But the guys that don't, they just play on
and on until you tell them to stop and let somebody else do it. MR: Right. Maybe they don't know where they are and can't
get out of it. AT: That's a point. They don't know where the codas are. Yes. So that could happen. MR: You know you I'm sure have some strong
opinions about the drug scene at the time. And you stated that it was malnutrition that
brought down a lot of those players. AT: Hell yeah. Because they weren't eating. All their money was going into the drug situation. They were feeding the drug dealer. And actually they were living reclusively
you know, by themselves, and just banging up all day or doing something, and nothing
else interested them except maybe their music, which they would maybe practice for four or
five hours at a time. They were great practicers in my day. That's why they were all so good. Like Bird and Diz and the rest of them, Charlie
- what's his name now - he was a trumpet player - Charlie Shavers, that's his name. And they were all terrific and because of
their practice. They practiced, like they say you want to
get to Carnegie Hall? Practice. And they finally made it to Carnegie Hall,
believe it or not - not in the Carnegie Hall tradition but jazz in the Paul Whiteman tradition,
taking jazz to Carnegie Hall. MR: Well it must have been quite a challenge
working with guys like Don Byas and so forth? AT: Oh man. Don Byas. One night he took a tune, and I'm glad I knew
the tune, and he said, "Let's go through the keys, Al." I said, "Oh no." He said, "Come on, man, you can-" I said,
"I don't even know it in this key." But we went through all of the keys. And this is where I got all my schooling,
from these guys. Him and another trumpet player, I forget his
name now, but these guys were all my teachers. Not just one person, I had several teachers
you know. I learned from several people. MR: And it wasn't even like official lessons,
it was just like on the job, right? AT: Oh no, it was just - here's how you do
this Al. And I would do it like that. Because like I used to love Teddy Wilson and
I used to actually start playing similar to him. And then him and I became very good friends
and I would go up to his house to get the data for an orchestration that I was going
to do for him and his small group down at - what is it called, it was - well anyhow,
he was in the bathroom shaving or something and I was playing the piano and he sticks
his head out and he says, "You've been listening to Tatum, ey?" I said, "Oh no, no, no, I'm still a Wilson
-" because I had been listening to Tatum. MR: That's very interesting. AT: And there was a lot of scale work and
stuff and transpositions and transitions and stuff. But after a while I found him not so interesting
as I thought he was. MR: Teddy Wilson? AT: No. MR: Or Tatum? AT: Tatum. Because of the similarities and how much further
can you get out? How much can you get out of that? MR: Do you think some of it was for show? I mean he had amazing-
AT: Actually, all of it was for show. I mean who would learn how to play like that
just for their own self? MR: Good point. AT: In fact everybody out here that's doing
something in the public is doing it for the public not for themselves. MR: Right. That's true. AT: I didn't study all what I learned - I
didn't study that just to say hey I can do this stuff. Show me. MR: Well said. AT: Yes. MR: We haven't talked much about what society
music was at the time. Now you got kind of disillusioned with the
narcotic scene and so forth. And did you consciously say I'm going to get
out of this? AT: Yeah. MR: Yeah. AT: I did. MR: You had enough self preservation kind
of? AT: Yeah. Well actually I had had enough jazz. I would more or less say that this influx
of drugs and stuff was an excuse for me to get out, you know, to go commercial. I went commercial and played show tunes and
things. And I played for shows in Greenwich Village. And I enjoyed that more than I enjoyed the
jazz scene. Because there was none of this competitive
thing going on. When I was at Monroe's there was trumpet players
trying to play higher than the other trumpets, or the saxophone player trying to play more
notes. And you know it was like the axe cutting scene. And here we are at the piano playing behind
these guys for like hours accompanying them for what they're doing. So I got tired of it. MR: Yeah. You got a whole line of saxophone players
waiting to sit in and you're back there. AT: Oh man, some of them with the long throats
that don't know when to stop, you know? So that was it. That was a good excuse for me to get out of
it. MR: Was - some of the names like Lester Lanin,
was that the type of society bands you would play in or was it smaller groups? AT: No. Now let me see now. Teddy Wilson had a band at Caf� Society
that I did some arrangements for and it was not a Lombardo type thing, you know. It was just cool, you know, and it wasn't
exhibition or anything like that. It was just playing nice music. I liked the society music. Especially Lester Lanin, he had a band who
never had any arrangements of anything in front of him, they all played from their heads. MR: They all played from-
AT: That's right. No music. They had their own heads and things they would
play with. MR: I see. Each like horn man would have a role to play? AT: Yeah. He'd take his own part, his own, similar to
the Ellington situation. They did that but then he got better and better
readers and all them, they were able to exhibit what he wanted which was that tough playing
like. But you take things like the "Crescendo and
Diminuendo in Blue," now that, the best part of that - and that's a complicated arrangement
actually, the arrangement is. But the solo, the 27 choruses, was the most
interesting part about it. And this was all ad lib. But what followed that, like - with the trumpets
that followed was a tremendous arrangement. I remember one time I was at the library. And I asked to hear, to see if they had a
track on "Main Stem," the Ellington tune. Because I don't know why, I fell in love with
that tune. And they did have a track on it so they gave
me the thing and I took it to the desk and I put my earphones on and I played this, and
evidently, unconsciously, I was singing along with it. And the lady came over and said, "Mr. Tinney,
you have to quiet down." I said, "Oh I'm sorry." MR: You had no idea you were doing that. AT: I had no idea, I was completely lost in
it. And I haven't heard anybody play it yet. MR: Really. AT: I could have made my own arrangement of
it. I'm better at transcribing Ellington than
other transcribers do. Because they try to be too technical. I just try to - just give me the right notes. If it's a - what do you call it - a off-sounding
tone, that's the one I'll hear. And that's the one I'm going to write. MR: The dissonant one? AT: Yeah. The dissonant one. That's the one I'm going to write down. Because the thirds and the sixths and the
sevenths and all, they'll be heard within the chord. But this one note here will make the difference. So that's what I learned how to transcribe
from him. And like I say with that band that I was in
or with, that 16 or 17 piece band, when I was writing I was writing purely Ellington. And it was amazing because there was a saxophone
player by the name of Jeff Hackworth I think his name was. And we did a little concert, it was a competition
you might say, between bands. And when we came off I went over, with this
guy. He came up to me and said, "Man, that band
sounds like the Ellington band." And I wanted to hug him man, because this
is what I was- MR: That's what you wanted to hear. AT: That's what I wanted. But when he said it, and this was another
person's opinion besides mine you know. But I loved it man. MR: What is your view on the teaching of jazz? How much can you teach? AT: I don't think you can teach. The reason why I say that is because I wasn't
taught. That's the only reason I can make that statement. I did a lot of listening. I got some books and stuff that had little
riffs and things in it, you know, but mostly listening. It was the science of sound actually. And some people can get - you know you have
to be endowed I believe, a bit. Because there are some people who've got it
and some people who don't have it. Some people who have been playing for years
and they still sound like crap you know. And there are some people who play today and
tomorrow they sound much better. So I think it's more or less what you're endowed
with. MR: Yeah. I think you're right. And there's lots of methods out now that they
are entitled "Anyone Can Improvise." AT: Yeah, that's right. MR: I'm not sure it's true. AT: But improvising is an old thing though. Like that's what they were doing - I believe
that there was similarities between the saloons and the salons. MR: Good statement. AT: You know? Because I can imagine Beethoven and those
guys getting together in a saloon or a salon or whatever you want to call it and saying,
"Man listen to this: I found out this diminished chord fits with this seventh chord." And this is what I can imagine, the life they
lived. They can't have been isolated. MR: Yeah. And those guys liked - those classical composers
liked to break rules too, didn't they? AT: Oh definitely, definitely. I found a few and I corrected them. MR: Is that right? AT: I did. I corrected a Beethoven thing, the Sonata,
the "Moonlight Sonata," I said why did he do that? He could have did this. He didn't work within the rules. And Gershwin I did the same thing with. I said he's doing contrary motion because
of a rule when he doesn't have to, he can do similar motion. MR: So why did he do that? AT: Rules. He went by the rules. Contrary motion. One angling this way and one angling the other
way, which is one thing that he really wrote by - strictly by the rules. And he came out beautiful. I don't see how - it was his mind. MR: Yeah you credit him with a lot of harmonic
stuff too that people picked up later. AT: Oh man, he was the first one I heard,
well in my kind of music, playing in chordal harmony, fourths, harmony in fourths, and
the clusters that he used to - he had an introduction, the introduction to the overture you might
say, to Porgy & Bess was like strictly pentatonic. And then he went into sevenths in a cluster
with the strings -. I mean this was all by the rules. MR: He sure knew how to use the rules, didn't
he? AT: Yes. That's the whole thing. Knowing how to use them. It's like we have laws, civil rights laws
and whatnot. And they're making all these changes in the
laws when the law by itself would have stood up. You know. If we say well we can't have candy today and
somebody wants to have candy today, well they're trying to be outside the law, and well why
can't you make it different between today and tomorrow? Can you say well okay in your case we'll make
it - in your case - that's where the changes of the law comes. And well in your case we'll change the rule,
see? And they'll put an item in or something like
that which will not change the rule but changes the way the rule is used. So that's what I say about that. MR: You've had quite an amazing life. If you think about your life, what's the most
important thing for you? That's a heck of a question isn't it? But I'm wondering if you have a -
AT: Yeah that is quite a question. What's important to me? MR: Yeah. AT: That's funny you said that. A good woman. A good woman to most men. A good woman. I just heard something recently, a guy said
if you have a good woman you have a good life. If you have a bad woman, or a woman that ain't
up to par, you'll become a great philosopher. Because you start making things out of situations. MR: Yeah. You have grandchildren now? AT: Yes. Yes. I had two daughters and one of my daughters
had two daughters. Just like I did you know. And my other daughter had a son. She spoiled the transition. She went from girls to boys. No, my first wife, well my only wife, and
I said, "If you bring a boy in here you and the boy goes out." Now I wasn't thinking, this wasn't forethought
or anything but I'm realizing what those poor boys have to go through. You know? They don't only have to think of themselves
as providers, but now it comes to war and comes other things that they're involved in. You know the war scene wasn't heavy, to me,
but to some other people it was heavy, it was costly. It cost them something they brought up from
a child and all of a sudden the man puts a uniform on him and throws him a gun and says
you go out there and kill or be killed. What kind of - you know - you wouldn't do
that to a dog. MR: Well it's really been fascinating talking
with you today. AT: Thank you. MR: You know we might have to do another part
here sometime because you've got so much to say. AT: Okay. Well this is the end of it like? MR: Well we're running out of tape. AT: Okay. I'm running out too, so everything turned
out all right. It turned out beautiful. I enjoyed this. MR: Well thank you for your time I really
appreciate it. AT: I don't know if you were looking for something
educational, which I'm not really a clinical person. So I'm glad you asked me about my life and
you did ask me about children and grandchildren. No one else does this. MR: Well those are important things. AT: They are. MR: It's not just the music as you said. AT: Right. It's not only the music.
