The Roads Taken --Two Paths Converge for Rufus Reid, Jazz Professor And Performer

By Stephanie Mykietyn

Misty rain punctuated by intermittent gusts of wind defines this dank and dreary Sunday afternoon in March.

The beginning of spring break, the campus is deserted, except for the cars huddled near

Shea Center for Performing Arts. Inside, theater lights alternately glow steel blue and magenta; microphones are adjusted by technicians in what has become a pre-performance ritual. The quiet quickly fills with the cacophony of students filtering in, instruments being tuned, and chairs being shuffled as performers take their places.

Rufus Reid, head of William Paterson University's Jazz Studies Program and director of the afternoon's ensemble, enters amid this activity. With a few soft-spoken words he begins the sound check, adjusting dynamics and honing entrances. The students respond to his direction with ease, each alteration bringing a more balanced sound. Focus moves to the afternoon's guest performer, vibraphonist Warren Chiasson, whose solo work is blended into the ensemble. Again, the instructions are deft - a nod, the raise of a hand, a look - all revealing the music's nuances.

This scene is only one stop in the travels of a William Paterson jazz studies student to that elusive destination - success. The journey is often fueled by counsel and encouragement from a man who has traveled that often winding, bumpy road: world-class bass player Rufus Reid. His experiences and innate talent create an ideal fusing of professionalism and musical savvy with the ability to teach and nurture; a combination tested daily in encounters with the jazz program's aspiring musicians.

(Photo: Reid directs student bassist Eleanor Healy, who has traveled from Cork, Ireland, to study in the jazz program.)

Born in Atlanta and raised in California, Reid began his musical career on the French horn simply because it was the only available instrument in his school's inventory. He quickly switched to trumpet, performing in what were then called "dance bands." Although his family couldn't afford private lessons, the music training available in the schools was well-supported and provided a thorough grounding in the basics.

As Reid graduated high school, John F. Kennedy was president, the Berlin Wall was built, and U.S. military aid to Vietnam was increasing. On line to register for college, he made a bold move and applied to the Air Force after hearing that musicians who passed the audition would spend the duration of their four-year tour in the band. Because he was only 17, his mother had to approve his application. "My mother was shocked...I had never really defied her," reflects Reid, "but she signed...and it was probably the best thing that happened to me in terms of growing up and being on my own."

Once in the Air Force, Reid found himself back in the South. It was in Montgomery, Alabama, that his infatuation with the bass took hold. Days with the band were predictable. Everyone met at 8:30 a.m. and practiced until noon. Unless there was a band function, the rest of the day was free. With a bass and practice space available, Reid began to learn the instrument. During this period, he met Al Stringer, an organist and saxophonist who had been in the Army with Cannonball Adderly. To Reid he was considered old, about 33. Stringer, who played at a club in Montgomery, had an opening for a bass player, and Reid recalls the audition as: "He said, 'Do you know Misty?' and I said, 'What key?' He said 'E flat' - well, I had just learned what E flat was, but I knew the song, having played it on the trumpet, and I knew what the bass was supposed to do, sorta'. And so we played and I followed him, and if I didn't know it, I sort of followed him anyway...and then we played something else and he hired me." Reid's career as a bassist had begun. Every Friday and Saturday night he would play electric bass, learning the music off the juke box as new records were released.

Wednesday nights were jazz nights at the club and Reid soon joined those sessions. Montgomery proved to be a great beginning for Reid. By day, he played trumpet for the Air Force; by night he performed on the bass, working with many older, seasoned musicians. He not only learned his craft, but began establishing a distinctive musical style and sense that is admired by many of his colleagues today. This seminal stage in his career continued for about 18 months until Reid, extending his tour of duty, shipped out to Japan.

There, he found an over-abundance of trumpet players. Since he was already concentrating on the bass, he was permitted to play the bass line with the tubas for functions other than formations and funerals. At those, he continued as a trumpet player. Despite the language barrier, Reid took lessons from a retired Tokyo Symphony bass player, increasing his performance skills and broadening his perspective.

Military service complete, he returned to California, sold his trumpet, and purchased a bass. Within months, Reid moved to Seattle to live with his brother. For almost a year, he did nothing but practice, honing his skills and making contacts at local clubs. But the need for his own space prevailed and so he began the search for a "real job." Reid was quickly hired at Boeing Aircraft. Pleased with himself, he returned home to find a second offer, this time as a performer. He took both jobs. "For six months I was a zombie," recalls Reid. "I got up at six a.m to be at Boeing at seven. I came home at four and took a nap, rising at six so I could be at the club by seven. I played until midnight and then came home. There were times when I woke up at six and didn't know which six it was. For six months I just worked and worked - it was good, because I learned what you need to do to survive. I made enough money, looked at each paycheck, and realized that I didn't need the Boeing job. That's the last time I needed that kind of job."

As his career grew, so did his aspirations. Returning to school, he enrolled at Olympic College, a two-year school in Bremerton, Washington. This time, education was on his terms. As a 25-year-old veteran, he had a better notion of what he wanted to do and how he wanted to grow. If he was to aspire to a professional career, it was time to study with a real teacher. That teacher was James Harnett, principal bassist with the Seattle Symphony, who introduced him to the world of classical music. Jazz schools didn't exist yet, but there were music schools that incorporated jazz into their curriculum. Harnett introduced Reid to pieces that allowed him to audition and be accepted at UCLA, Oberlin, Indiana University, and Northwestern. Ultimately, he chose Northwestern because the school was prestigious, Chicago was considered a musical Mecca, and the city was home to the national jazz magazine, Downbeat.

As a student at Northwestern, Reid studied with Warren Benfield, faculty bassist and a member of the Chicago Symphony. Benfield not only encouraged but paved the way for Reid to present the school's first senior recital that combined classical music and jazz. As Reid recalls, "It was probably one of the most attended recitals, most likely out of curiosity."

While an undergraduate, Reid played with the Civic Orchestra, the training ensemble for the Chicago Symphony, and other area orchestras. Performing classical pieces under several different conductors, working at jazz clubs at night, playing at parties, weddings, and other functions, and practicing, meant having the bass in his hands 14 to 16 hours each day. He describes this time as his "real school" and a "very good, good time."

Chicago spawned many connections-Nancy Wilson, Bobby Hutcherson, Harold Land, Sonny Stitt, Kenny Burrell. It was also a time of traveling: to California to record with Nancy Wilson, Europe with Bobby Hutcherson and Harold Land. Reid felt musically strong and excited, and the work was challenging and available. But about five years after graduation, the drought arrived. "Bobby Hutcherson returned to Chicago, and I worked with him again," recalls Reid. "And he confronts me. 'You're not doing it.' 'What do you mean?' I replied. Well, what happens is that when these strong players come in, with all this energy, they wipe you out and then leave. Later you feel this withdrawal. But when you've got a drought period, you lose the roll. You get considered 'local,' laid-back, comfortable, no energy, no urgency. I had gotten into that, not knowing it, but knowing it. So, when he came back and said, 'Well, you're not playing as well as I remember,' it was like I'd been slapped." That experience left its mark. Reid vowed that it was time to leave Chicago. With an invigorated focus, he made the journey to New York two years later.

Even though he had taught at Northwestern and Northern Illinois University, Reid didn't see teaching in his future; he was working with Thad Jones and Mel Lewis and content performing. Because Thad Jones was the head of the newly established jazz program at William Paterson, Reid would occasionally participate in a student workshop or seminar. He also began what was to become a long-standing friendship with Dr. Martin Krivin, a member of the music faculty and founder of the jazz program. Little did he know that while at William Paterson, he was being observed.

In October 1979, Jones left for Europe to pursue his career. Because the semester was already in session, a replacement was needed quickly. Krivin telephoned Reid to see if he would consider filling the position. He refused. More calls and dinner followed. Finally, Reid agreed to come to the campus for a day. When he returned home, he admitted to his wife that he had actually enjoyed himself; but because he was now performing and traveling with Dexter Gordon, Reid assumed that the issue was closed. Wrong. To his concerns and hesitations, Krivin merely responded, "That's okay." Reid didn't believe him.

Although hiring a performing professional was not new to the Music Department, each instance was evaluated by the administration. Knowing Reid's interest, Krivin, armed with a sheaf of materials and a strong argument, made his case that Reid was the best choice to head the jazz program. Rufus credits Krivin for his vision and his tenacious nature to make things happen. Krivin counters with accolades about Reid's unflagging capacity to teach, criticize, and, at the same time, inspire students. Summing up, Reid concedes, "I don't think I could have this job anywhere else in the country, much less the world. It's like having my pie and eating it too. Krivin basically gave me my head to sculpt the curriculum."

That was 19 years ago. Those years have been good for both Reid and the University. As a performer and teacher, he is flourishing. His resume includes two published works, Evolving Bassist and Evolving Upwards (a third is in the works), three recordings under his own name for Sunnyside Records, and five commercial recordings with TanaReid, the quintet he coleads with drummer Akira Tana. In 1996 he recorded with André Previn and Kathleen Battle, and performed a double-bass concerto written for him by Benny Golson that premiered at William Paterson. Touring has taken him around the world with Jack DeJohnette's Special Edition, Dizzy Gillespie, Phil Woods, J. J. Johnson, Kenny Burrell, and many others.

Concurrently, the Jazz Studies Program has grown tremendously, attracting students from around the world. It offers the perfect mix: working professionals who not only excel in performance, but have the ability and desire to share their knowledge with students. The ingredients are not easy to gather because it is sometimes difficult to find individuals who enjoy the program's mission, recognize its importance, and want to make a contribution.

For an undergraduate curriculum the structure is unique. Because so many lessons and sessions are handled by specialists, students see instructors once a week. Although common in graduate programs, undergraduates are usually afforded more contact hours throughout the week. This puts greater importance on a student's ability to focus on goals, and inspires the faculty to keep their own musical skills sharp. It's a healthy relationship and provides a diversity of style and approach that isn't easily obtained. This experience, together with the University's proximity to New York City and its reasonable cost, help the program's applicant pool grow annually.

Reid feels that students bring magic to the program. Some have done their homework and know what to expect. Others are still finding their way, and the program's faculty are prepared to lead them. Occasionally you find one who, after two weeks, knows that William Paterson's program isn't the right experience. In Reid's opinion, students have more options today. If they are not successful enough to become a recording artist, other opportunities are available in the music business. The avenues are boundless, especially with today's technology.

In addition to his work at William Paterson, Reid recently became director of the New Jersey Performing Arts Center's Jazz for Teens that features classes and concerts for participants age 12 through 18. He sees a wealth of blossoming talent, including one pre-teen who already engages his instrument in a thoughtful way, indicating a commitment to the music that normally develops much later. On teaching youngsters the art of jazz, he muses, "It is difficult. It really takes a maturity. They have to be independent, strong enough not to go with the crowd. They have to know who they are."

Reid also serves as artistic advisor for the University's Jazz Room Series. The series, which recently celebrated its 20th anniversary, brings professional artists to William Paterson 12 times each year. A component of each concert is a student ensemble that serves as the opening act and a showcase for the department's talent.

(Photo: Reid and Jazz Room producer and colleague David Demsey)

He works in tandem with jazz faculty member David Demsey in planning the series and is often at the helm of one of the large ensembles performing with guest soloists. According to Demsey, Reid exhibits a level of dedication rarely found. His ability to juggle a very active professional performance schedule, yet devote the time and energy needed to be a successful teacher is extraordinary. "He just regularly hops across the planet to do something and then hops back again. And yet, he's here in Wayne, New Jersey 07470, every week," quips Demsey.

Stamina, excellence, integrity, loyalty, and humanity are words that describe the qualities brought by Reid on his journey to success as a performer, teacher, and consummate professional. It is a road traveled well, with an occasional detour and few a shortcuts. Fortunately for the students in William Paterson's jazz studies program, it now serves to inspire those whose own journeys are just beginning.

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