Joined at the Hip: A History of Jazz in Twin Cities

8: Way Up North in Dixieland

103 8 Way Up North in Dixieland “Please do not mention modern jazz while people are eating.” — Sign at Doc Evans’s club, which featured Dixie and traditional jazz exclusively As far back as the days of riverboat bands, on through Prohibition, and into the 1930s era of swing, musicians associated with Dixieland and traditional jazz had performed widely in the Twin Cities. For many young musicians who would go on to play in different styles, Dixieland music was the first jazz they heard. For others, it was a style with which they remained linked throughout their careers. Progressive-­ jazz pianist Mickey McClain, dominant on the local scene in the 1960s, remembers at the age of ten walking down Hennepin Avenue with his dad. “I heard this Dixieland coming from one of the open doorways,” he said. “I wanted to stop, but Dad said I couldn’t go in there.” David Bastien takes it back even further, remembering “going to the Curtis Hotel for my fourth birthday just after my father [Biddy Bastien] was discharged from the army. The band was a Dixieland band with my uncle, Fritz Hughart, playing bass. He was mainly known as an orchestra player, but he did some Dixie­ land jobbing back then.” One of Dixieland’s best-­ known players, both locally and around the United States, was Paul “Doc” Evans, a multi-­ talented musician and music leader. Doc’s son Allen understated it when he said, “A lot of ­ people were interested in my father’s music.” A store in London, for instance, features an entire section of his music. In October 1958, the Minneapolis Tribune 104 Joined at the Hip noted, “For six summers, Doc Evans’s Dixieland band has drawn fans by the thousands to Walker Art Center’s courtyard, sparking a resurgence of interest in New Orleans jazz.” Paul Evans, born in Spring Valley, Minnesota, in 1907, was surrounded by music, especially in the classical vein. He developed an insatiable­ appetite for listening. Later, his friend Fritz Lawrence, who had a large record collection, got Paul hooked on jazz. Evans attended Carleton College , where he began playing piano, drums, and sax in the Collegians band, but he soon learned his real love was the cornet. By the end of the Roaring Twenties, he was a regular on the Twin Cities music scene. From the time the New Orleans Rhythm Kings first played the Marigold Ballroom in 1925, Dixieland increased in popularity in the Twin Cities. The popular early pianist Nettie Sherman blended Dixieland, ragtime, and the pop tunes of the 1920s. Over the years, more traditional styles of jazz such as Dixieland and swing generally stayed downtown and in­ hotels and country clubs, while the pre-­ bebop modernists who played more experimental jazz hit the after-­ hours spots, especially on Minneapolis ’s Near Northside. While chamber of commerce promotions might not have mentioned jazz as a cultural asset in the 1930s, Dixielander names Doc Evans and Harry Blons occasionally surfaced in the press. Dixieland was the de facto public face of jazz in Minnesota. Doc played at Nisswa’s Bar Harbor near Brainerd in 1936 with the Don Magnus Band and also played sax with Norvy Mulligan’s group. He was once described as a very lyrical player who didn’t play loud. Doc quickly joined the ranks of trumpeters Les Beigel, Ferrol Wilson, and El Herbert as an in-­ demand player. In 1939, after Wilson (who was compared to Bix Beiderbecke) decided to hang it up and become a fisherman in Florida, Doc joined clarinetist-­ saxman Harry Yablonski (later Harry Blons), Eddie Tolck on drums and vibes, and Don Thompson on trombone. Red Dougherty put the band together for the opening of Herman Mitch’s new nightspot in Mendota, just across the Mississippi from St. Paul. When the authorities went after the former speakeasy and gangster hangout, Mitch threw out the gambling tables and put in a stage. Mitch’s thrived until World War II, when gasoline rationing kept people from driving out to the remote location. Way Up North in Dixieland 105 Radio personality Leigh Kamman set up broadcasts from Mitch’s with Sev Widman in the early 1940s. On the program Studio Party Wham, audience members answered quiz questions for free dinners, and Dougherty’s band provided the music. “I suppose we were the forerunners of Dick Clark,” said Kamman. After the radio duo split up...