The Evolution of Mann: Herbie Mann and the Flute in Jazz by Cary Ginell (review)

The eminent jazz journalist Cary Ginell has prepared another exceedingly well-researched biography of a jazz musician. Like his wonderful book on Cannonball Adderley, Walk Tall (Milwaukee, WI: Hal Leonard, 2013), this new biography of flutist Herbie Mann treats us to an album-by-album chronicle of the musician’s life. As in his Adderley work, Ginell tells us about crucial musical events that led up to each album and what occurred at each recording session. He draws upon pointed interviews that he conducted with Mann, Mann’s friends and relatives, and several musicians who played with Mann.

With Ginell’s help, we gain an appreciation for Mann’s extensive musical explorations that stemmed from the flutist’s remarkable curiosity and openness. For the many jazz fans who know only such Mann hits as “Comin’ Home Baby” and “Memphis Underground,” this book will prove to be a breakthrough because it also describes how the flutist developed almost entirely new repertoires every few years and how each of them embraced a different ethnic tradition. For instance, Mann created original amalgams of jazz with Brazilian music (before Stan Getz became known for it), Middle Eastern music, African music, Cuban music, Japanese art music, soul music, rhythm and blues, reggae, and Hungarian folk music. Unknown to most jazz fans is the fact that his disco piece “Hi-Jack” sold millions and was the biggest hit of Mann’s career. The author also provides us with a brief history of jazz flutists, mostly connected with Afro-Cuban bands, and he links Mann’s longstanding interest in Latin American music to hearing a 1947 recording of “Jungle Fantasy” by the Puerto Rican flutist Esy Morales.

For each exploration, Ginell tells us about Mann’s travels to the music’s original source, and how in many cases the flutist engaged the top practitioners of those styles to play with him. This ultimately means that listeners have been blessed by Mann’s tendency to become restless. “‘Every time a style of music I am playing gets a little too perfect, … and by perfect, I mean something that is a little too tidy, something that is in a box instead of on a meadow. With me, this happens about every two years or so. When it happens, I change’” (p. 131). This tendency tied in nicely with his aptitude as a talent scout. For example, Mann albums marked some of the earliest appearances of such luminaries as pianist Chick Corea, bassist Miroslav Vitous, vibraphonist Roy Ayers, and guitarist Sonny Sharrock.

The book is loaded with little-known facts that should delight Mann’s fans. For instance, readers will learn that at one time he wrote music for television shows and that eventually he composed original music for many of his own albums as well as for one by the prominent Afro-Cuban bandleader Francisco “Machito” Grillo. Another little-known fact is quite significant: Mann was the first prominent jazz musician to think of himself as a flutist who doubled on tenor saxophone instead of a saxophonist who doubled on flute. Additionally, Mann told Ginell that when he was devising a jazz improvisation style:

There was no style for flutists playing jazz. You couldn’t listen to the Charlie Parker or the Lester Young or the Dizzy Gillespie of flute playing. So I said to myself, “Why not listen to trumpet players?” So I listened to Miles and Dizzy and Art Farmer and Clifford Brown, and that’s what I based my style on. It was more percussive. It wasn’t like the prevailing notion of the flute. Nobody plays jazz on the saxophone like classical saxophone, and nobody plays jazz on the bass like classical bass. The same goes for piano and trumpet. So I said “I can’t base it on William Kincaid, so I’m just going...