I Walked With Giants: The Autobiography of Jimmy Heath

Introduction

Introduction  I guess the old bard summed it up years ago: “To be or not to be.” And then Dizzy went on to qualify it: “To BE, or not . . . to BOP.” What we choose determines what we will be. Choosing is serious business. The most provocative memoirs inspire us to make informed choices in our own lives. That’s why we love to check out other people’s lives. From the pen of a master storyteller, Jimmy Heath’s memoirs instruct and entertain. Jimmy’s has been a life rich in experience, full of the bittersweet ironies and extremities that make you want to laugh, to cry, and to sing the blues. He tells stories with the homespun humor of a true American original . Through him, we get an accurate take on those fabulous musicians who swung across the globe throughout the twentieth century. Possessed of originality, resilience, pride, and a deep understanding of our common humanity, their lives burned brightly and quickly against a backdrop of segregation and injustice. Still, their music projected the joys and sorrows of real life with unsentimental optimism. It was romantic and wise, virtuosic and earthy—the perfect antidote to the difficulties of modern life. These musicians believed that times would always be improving and that the syncopated rhythms and on-the-fly improvisations of their brand of jazz would help. They played with a swagger forged in the Great Depression, tested by the war, and proven in the cultural neglect of postwar prosperity. In the early twenty-first century, Jimmy Heath is one of the last of these jazzmen. Past the civil rights movement, the rock ’n’ roll revolution, and xviii | w y nton marsalis the computer age; through generations X, Y, and Z; and up to the hip-hop nation, his presence speaks to the ageless vitality of this music. He stays very much on the scene, composing, arranging, teaching, and playing with wit and vigor. Jimmy brings the generosity of spirit and downright soul that makes jazz worth the dues paid to play it. At a rehearsal of James Moody’s music with the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra, Jimmy Heath walks in and lights up the room. Men, some of whom are close to sixty years younger than he is, stop playing to salute him. All are happier than they were the moment before. He hugs Moody and calls him “Section.” Man, they played at different times in Dizzy Gillespie’s saxophone sections in the 1940s, and here they are talking ’bout “Section” as if it were yesterday. One thing is clear—they love each other and this music. The passage of time has only strengthened those bonds. While there may be some confusion about the identity of jazz in presentday critical circles, in educational institutions, and even among musicians misinformed by both, Jimmy Heath is unquestionably the embodiment of the spirit and practice of this music. He is always showing us how to live in jazz, how to be . . . jazz. Coming into the twenty-first century, there could be no more perfect figure to call us home. He walks that walk, and what he talks is exactly what we need to be reminded of in this moment. Enjoy the words of a master. Wynton Marsalis October 2007 ...