JAM Magazine: August/September 1999 Issue: Storyville

TRAM: THE FRANK TRUMBAUER STORY
by Philip R. Evans and Larry F. Kiner (with William Trumbauer)
Published by Rutgers University and Scarecrow Press, 1994; 821 pp.

(Ed. note: As many KC jazz lovers/historians will know, Frank Trumbauer had important Kansas City ties. We first heard of this book the year after it was published and have just recently been able to secure a review copy; hence the following belated remarks courtesy of guest contributor, Campbell Burnap.)

It is not surprising that a man descended from sources as diverse and exotic as the Cherokee Indian tribe and Charles Dickens should have led a colourful and varied life of his own. For classic jazz fans Frank Trumbauer will always be the melodic maestro of the C-melody sax, a stylish musical 'story-teller' whose solos were copied by countless aspiring saxophonists of the late 1920s and early '30s. He was an inspirational figure to the tyro Lester Young, and most romantically of all he was the close buddy of Bix Beiderbecke.

"But there was another Frank Trumbauer: the enthusiastic flier, who, in the second half of his professional life became a civil aviation administrator for the great farmlands of the midwest, and, during World War II, an airforce instructor and test pilot. He was also a devoted husband and father, as well as an exemplary model in all his business dealings.

Those two dedicated and painstaking researchers into American music, Philip Evans and Larry Kiner, have divided this hefty 800-page tribute into four sections: biography, discography, chronology and song title index. They have also included photographs from the Trumbauer family collection. Tram planned to write an autobiography and had gathered together preliminary notes, tapes, letters and diaries. His sudden and unexpected death at 55 put an end to that project, but his daughter, Lynne, made the material available and it is interspersed liberally in bold type throughout the authors' text.

Reading Trumbauer's own segments is both fascinating and frustrating: on the one hand we get precious information from the band buses, ballrooms, and recording studios of long ago, but on the other there is tiresome overkill about which musician played which practical joke upon whom. "How we laughed," he writes at one point (an echo here, perhaps, of his illustrious ancestor's creation, the kind-hearted blacksmith, Joe Gargary, in Great Expectations... "What larks, Pip!") The genial saxophonist was partial to tall stories and so perhaps some of these anecdotes should be taken with a pinch of salt.

The book's opening chapters would benefit from the inclusion of a Trumbauer family tree illustration -- the written descriptions are difficult to unravel -- while occasional double spacing between paragraphs would have clarified the regular introduction of new characters and episodes in Frank's childhood. But these are minor quibbles because so much of the information is engrossing. For instance, Tram's description of his mother repeatedly hitting piano chords while her young son found the notes to fit them... the basis of his relaxed improvisational skills later on; his brief pen-pictures of the more obscure sidemen who have previously been no more than a personnel listing; how the huge Paul Whiteman organization worked; how important a supportive wife like Mitzi Trumbauer was; and just how thick on the ground unscrupulous agents and club owners were.

Of course, for aficionados of classic jazz the name Trumbauer is synonymous with Bix Beiderbecke, and there are reminiscences and evaluations here which are tender, poignant, and essential reading for Bix scholars and fans. The cornetist's letters to Tram are quoted and his deterioration and early death poignantly remembered. The saxophonist's considered analysis of Bix's status in jazz is both solemn and deeply sincere. On a lighter note -- but equally interesting to me -- is Trumbauer's obvious affection and respect for Paul Whiteman, a man whom he found to be charismatic, supportive, generous, perennially enthusiastic, and who could laugh at himself.

Leaving the opulent Whiteman surroundings to return to bandleading himself brought on awkward financial times for Frank Trumbauer. Then, after a disappointing failure to break into the lucrative Hollywood session scene, and with war on the horizon, he eased out of music and into aviation. His second career brought him both deep satisfaction and much respect from colleagues in a completely new profession. This mild, pipe-smoking, tweedy, gregarious man from the midwest would have struggled to survive in the bop-influenced jazz scene of the late 1940s, and it was probably best that any 'singing the blues' should have been limited to the memory of his elegant recorded solos which so many of us can still hum and whistle.

Much time and affection has gone into the production of this biography. The voice of the man himself is ingeniously intertwined with the authors' diligent research and sensitive feel for the period. Although the biographical section is outweighed by the discography and chronology details, and the price is pretty hefty, if you want to step right into the popular music scene of yesteryear, then get that credit card out.

-- Campbell Burnap

RETURN TO AUGUST 1999 MAIN INDEX

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© Kansas City Jazz Ambassadors 1996-2001. All rights reserved.






	Search our site:		TRAM: THE FRANK TRUMBAUER STORY by Philip R. Evans and Larry F. Kiner (with William Trumbauer) Published by Rutgers University and Scarecrow Press, 1994; 821 pp. (Ed. note: As many KC jazz lovers/historians will know, Frank Trumbauer had important Kansas City ties. We first heard of this book the year after it was published and have just recently been able to secure a review copy; hence the following belated remarks courtesy of guest contributor, Campbell Burnap.) It is not surprising that a man descended from sources as diverse and exotic as the Cherokee Indian tribe and Charles Dickens should have led a colourful and varied life of his own. For classic jazz fans Frank Trumbauer will always be the melodic maestro of the C-melody sax, a stylish musical 'story-teller' whose solos were copied by countless aspiring saxophonists of the late 1920s and early '30s. He was an inspirational figure to the tyro Lester Young, and most romantically of all he was the close buddy of Bix Beiderbecke. "But there was another Frank Trumbauer: the enthusiastic flier, who, in the second half of his professional life became a civil aviation administrator for the great farmlands of the midwest, and, during World War II, an airforce instructor and test pilot. He was also a devoted husband and father, as well as an exemplary model in all his business dealings. Those two dedicated and painstaking researchers into American music, Philip Evans and Larry Kiner, have divided this hefty 800-page tribute into four sections: biography, discography, chronology and song title index. They have also included photographs from the Trumbauer family collection. Tram planned to write an autobiography and had gathered together preliminary notes, tapes, letters and diaries. His sudden and unexpected death at 55 put an end to that project, but his daughter, Lynne, made the material available and it is interspersed liberally in bold type throughout the authors' text. Reading Trumbauer's own segments is both fascinating and frustrating: on the one hand we get precious information from the band buses, ballrooms, and recording studios of long ago, but on the other there is tiresome overkill about which musician played which practical joke upon whom. "How we laughed," he writes at one point (an echo here, perhaps, of his illustrious ancestor's creation, the kind-hearted blacksmith, Joe Gargary, in Great Expectations... "What larks, Pip!") The genial saxophonist was partial to tall stories and so perhaps some of these anecdotes should be taken with a pinch of salt. The book's opening chapters would benefit from the inclusion of a Trumbauer family tree illustration -- the written descriptions are difficult to unravel -- while occasional double spacing between paragraphs would have clarified the regular introduction of new characters and episodes in Frank's childhood. But these are minor quibbles because so much of the information is engrossing. For instance, Tram's description of his mother repeatedly hitting piano chords while her young son found the notes to fit them... the basis of his relaxed improvisational skills later on; his brief pen-pictures of the more obscure sidemen who have previously been no more than a personnel listing; how the huge Paul Whiteman organization worked; how important a supportive wife like Mitzi Trumbauer was; and just how thick on the ground unscrupulous agents and club owners were. Of course, for aficionados of classic jazz the name Trumbauer is synonymous with Bix Beiderbecke, and there are reminiscences and evaluations here which are tender, poignant, and essential reading for Bix scholars and fans. The cornetist's letters to Tram are quoted and his deterioration and early death poignantly remembered. The saxophonist's considered analysis of Bix's status in jazz is both solemn and deeply sincere. On a lighter note -- but equally interesting to me -- is Trumbauer's obvious affection and respect for Paul Whiteman, a man whom he found to be charismatic, supportive, generous, perennially enthusiastic, and who could laugh at himself. Leaving the opulent Whiteman surroundings to return to bandleading himself brought on awkward financial times for Frank Trumbauer. Then, after a disappointing failure to break into the lucrative Hollywood session scene, and with war on the horizon, he eased out of music and into aviation. His second career brought him both deep satisfaction and much respect from colleagues in a completely new profession. This mild, pipe-smoking, tweedy, gregarious man from the midwest would have struggled to survive in the bop-influenced jazz scene of the late 1940s, and it was probably best that any 'singing the blues' should have been limited to the memory of his elegant recorded solos which so many of us can still hum and whistle. Much time and affection has gone into the production of this biography. The voice of the man himself is ingeniously intertwined with the authors' diligent research and sensitive feel for the period. Although the biographical section is outweighed by the discography and chronology details, and the price is pretty hefty, if you want to step right into the popular music scene of yesteryear, then get that credit card out. -- Campbell Burnap RETURN TO AUGUST 1999 MAIN INDEX ------------------------------------------------------------------------ © Kansas City Jazz Ambassadors 1996-2001. All rights reserved.