B6 eZ re the washington post.friday, april 3 , 2020
obituaries
BY HARRISON SMITHBucky Pizzarelli, one of the
nation’s preeminent seven-string
guitarists, who began his career
as a coveted sideman and studio
musician before stepping out on
his own and forming an ac-
claimed jazz duo with one of his
sons, died April 1 at his home in
Saddle River, N.J. He was 94.
The cause was the coronavirus
disease covid-19, said his son
John Pizzarelli, a guitarist and
singer with whom Mr. Pizzarelli
formed one of the rare father-son
duos in jazz.
Mr. Pizzarelli honed a gentle,
richly textured sound while play-
ing as an accompanist and solo
artist, performing lyrical impro-
vised solos that typically featured
chords rather than single notes.
Although he began his career
in the 1940 s, touring as a teenager
with singer Vaughn Monroe’s
dance band, he came into his own
after acquiring a seven-string
Gretsch guitar in 1969, inspired
by seven-string pioneer George
Van Eps.
The instrument featured an
extra bass string, which Mr. Pizza-
relli used to virtuosic effect in
swing-era standards, Brazilian
bossa nova and songs by the
Beatles, Burt Bacharach and Hen-
ry Mancini. A fixture of the New
York jazz scene for decades, he
was also a staff musician at ABC
and NBC, where he played with
the “Tonight Show” band and
tuned Tiny Tim’s ukulele before
the musician got married before a
TV audience of millions in 1969.
Mr. Pizzarelli spent much of
the 1950 s and ’60s inside record-
ing studios, where he arrived ear-
ly to practice his nylon-string
classical guitar and did three ses-
sions a day, recording tracks such
as Dion’s “Runaround Sue,” Ray
Charles’s version of “Georgia on
My M ind,” Ben E. King’s “ Stand By
Me” and Brian Hyland’s “Itsy Bit-
sy Te enie Weenie Yellow Polkadot
Bikini.”
He also performed with the
pop group the Three Suns, toured
across Europe with Benny Good-
man and collaborated with artists
including Buddy Rich, To ny Ben-
nett, Frank Sinatra, Wes Mont-
gomery, Zoot Sims, Bud Freeman
and French violinist Stéphane
Grappelli, the former musical
partner of his guitar idol Django
Reinhardt.
But he was perhaps best
known for his work in guitar
duos, including with George
Barnes, one of the first artists to
record with an electric guitar.
“Their duets are built on thecontrast between the soft, dark
sound of Mr. Pizzarelli’s thumb
and finger plucking and Mr.
Barnes’s use of a pick to produce
high, tight phrases that dart and
dazzle over his partner’s founda-
tion lines,” New York Times jazz
critic John S. Wilson wrote in
1970.
“They may be light and airy — a
perfect soufflé of sound — and
then go rollicking off through
rapid-fire lines that wrap around
each other, chase each other, join
in unison and set up challenges of
the musicians and the listening
ear,” he added. “This is a brilliant
and unique team.”
Mr. Pizzarelli and Barnes re-
corded a 197 1 album, “Guitars
Pure and Honest,” but within a
year began “to detest one anoth-
er,” a ccording to a report from the
New Yorker jazz critic Whitney
Balliett, who witnessed a chaoticperformance at the St. Regis
Room in Manhattan that brought
the musicians’ rivalry into public
view.
“The guitarists’ swan set was
played not on their instruments,”
he wrote, “but on each other.”
Mr. Pizzarelli found far less
drama while performing with
members of his own family. His
197 2 album, “Green Guitar Blues,”
featured a duet with his 14-year-
old daughter Mary, whom he
trained on classical guitar. By the
end of the decade he was per-
forming with his son John, with
whom he recorded albums such
as “2 x 7 = Pizzarelli” (1980) and
“Twogether” ( 200 1), which fea-
tured duets of jazz standards.
In time, they also performed
with Mr. Pizzarelli’s other son,
bassist Martin Pizzarelli, and
with John’s wife, singer Jessica
Molaskey, forming a group that
John Pizzarelli likened to “the
von Trapp family on martinis.”
“I learned by sitting with him
on the bandstand,” J ohn Pizzarel-
li told TV interviewer Steve Adu-
bato in 2013, accompanied by his
father. “It was trial by fire. He
would just play melodies and
stare at me.” ( “We don’t get mad,”
Bucky Pizzarelli told the New
York Times, “but we knock heads
once in a while. I don’t i nterfere.”)
In a 2016 interview with Inside
Jersey magazine, jazz guitarist Ed
Laub, a onetime pupil of Mr.
Pizzarelli’s, recalled a piece of
advice from his former teacher:
“If you’re planning on being a
professional musician, you need
to understand that your job is to
always make the other guy as
good as he can possibly sound. It’s
not about you.”
For Mr. Pizzarelli, Laub said,“It’s about making beautiful mu-
sic. It’s not about grandstanding.”
Mr. Pizzarelli was born John
Pizzarelli on Jan. 9, 1926, in Pater-
son, N.J., where his childhood
classmates included poet Allen
Ginsberg. His parents owned a
grocery store, and his father
played the mandolin and nick-
named his only son Bucky, o ut of a
love for cowboys and the Ameri-
can West that he had nurtured
since working in Te xas as a teen-
ager.
His uncle Bobby Dominick was
a banjo and guitar player who
“looked like a million dollars ev-
ery time I saw him,” Mr. Pizzarelli
told George Cole, author of the
Miles Davis history “The Last
Miles.” “ He had a suit, a new car
and he was picking up 50 bucks a
week on the road with all his
bands.... When I saw that, I said,
‘That’s what I want to do.’ ”
Mr. Pizzarelli learned the ba-
sics of music during Sunday jam
sessions that included Bobby and
another uncle, Pete Dominick, as
well as Joe Mooney, a blind Pater-
son jazz accordionist. Influenced
by guitarists such as Reinhardt,
Freddie Green and Charlie Chris-
tian, he went on to perform at
weddings and dances before join-
ing Monroe’s dance band at 17.
He was soon drafted into the
Army and, at the close of World
War II, served in Europe and the
Philippines, where he “spent nine
months doing nothing,” as he put
it, aside from playing guitar. He
returned home to spend five years
with Monroe and join NBC.
Mr. Pizzarelli’s records includ-
ed “The Red Door” ( 1998), a trib-
ute to Sims, featuring Scott Ham-
ilton on tenor sax; and “5 for
Freddie” ( 2007 ), a tribute toGreen with pianist John Bunch in
the role of Count Basie, Green’s
longtime musical collaborator.
At home in Saddle River, he
presided over what one journalist
described as “a living jukebox,”
where Goodman dropped in to
nap, Sims swam in the family
pool, bassist Slam Stewart stayed
over and impromptu perfor-
mances broke out almost daily,
with most family members taking
part. Mr. Pizzarelli’s wife of 66
years, the former Ruth Litchult,
did not play an instrument but
“knows music and can say what’s
good and bad,” her husband told
the Times in 1973.
“I’m a critic mostly when he
plays too long or when it’s time
for dinner,” s he said.
In addition to his wife, survi-
vors include four children, Anne
Hymes of Orlando, Martin Pizza-
relli of Saddle River and John and
Mary Pizzarelli, both of Manhat-
tan; a sister; and four grandchil-
dren.
In recent years, Mr. Pizzarelli
told Cole, the music scene had
transformed, and the kind of
playing he did in studio bands
was all but nonexistent. “Guitar
players — it’s mostly effects,” he
said. “Guitars in the hands of
these kids today are weapons!”
Still, he plowed ahead, playing
dozens of club dates each year
and maintaining the approach
that had fueled his career for
nearly eight decades. “Every day I
get up and I try to correct what I
screwed up the night before,” he
said. “That’s my theory. I prepare
for the next time. I’m playing
mostly live dates now and that’s a
big thrill, because that’s the ulti-
mate — to be in front of people.”
[email protected]Bucky Pizzarelli, 94
Guitarist, celebrated as 7-string master, formed acclaimed group with family
helayne seidman for the Washington Post
Guitarist Bucky Pizzarelli, left, performs with his sons Martin,
center, and John. Mr. Pizzarelli died Wednesday at his home in
Saddle River, N.J., after contracting the novel coronavirus.BY MATT SCHUDELEllis Marsalis, a pianist who
launched a jazz dynasty as a
teacher in his native New Orleans
and was the father of four sons
who became acclaimed musi-
cians, including superstars Bran-
ford and Wynton Marsalis, died
April 1 at a New Orleans hospital.
He was 85.
Branford Marsalis announced
the death in a statement, noting
that his father had been hospital-
ized for complications from covid-
19, the disease resulting from the
novel coronavirus.
Mr. Marsalis was a leading jazz
pianist in New Orleans for de-
cades, but he did not gain wide-
spread renown until his sons
reached prominence as they
helped lead a jazz revival in the
1980 s.
Wynton, a trumpeter who be-
came an outspoken advocate for a
return to the early traditions of
jazz, has won nine Grammy
Awards, is the co-founder of Jazz
at L incoln Center in New York and
is probably the best-known jazz
musician in the world. Branford,
the winner of three Grammys,
toured with Sting, led the “To-
night Show” band and is one of
the leading saxophonists of his
generation.
Two other Marsalis sons, trom-
bonist Delfeayo and percussionist
Jason, also became musicians,
making them unquestionably the
American first family of jazz.
“A ll I did was make sure they
had the best so they could be the
best,” Ellis Marsalis told Ebony
magazine in 1993. “They did the
rest.”
He spent virtually all his life in
New Orleans, the city considered
the cradle of jazz and the birth-
place of such seminal musical
figures as Jelly Roll Morton and
Louis Armstrong. Even though he
often struggled to make a living
from music, Mr. Marsalis was
seen as an enduring beacon of
musical integrity who insisted on
high standards for his students,
his children and, above all, him-
self.
“He made us see life in a certain
way,” Branford Marsalis said in a
1990 appearance on “Mister Rog-
ers’ Neighborhood.” “We have a
certain outlook on how we’re sup-
posed to carry ourselves in the
world and how we should see
other people and treat other peo-
ple that I think really has a pro-
found effect on what we play mu-
sically.”
Mr. Marsalis found a n ew m usi-
cal niche in his 40 s, when he
taught at the New Orleans Center
for Creative Arts, a high school
whose students included his sons,
trumpeters Te rence Blanchard
and Nicholas Payton and singer-
pianist Harry Connick Jr.
During the late 1980 s, Mr.
Marsalis taught at Virginia Com-
monwealth University in Rich-
mond before returning to his
hometown t o lead the jazz studies
program at the University of New
Orleans.
“I never thought of myself as a
teacher,” he once told NPR. “ I used
to always look at m yself as being a
coach. Not devoid of instruction,
but I was never that organized in
my a pproach to what I was doing.”
Through it all, Mr. Marsalis
remained a working musician, ap-
pearing with jazz players passing
through New Orleans and, from
1967 to 1970, touring with popular
trumpeter Al Hirt. Ye t he was a
relatively obscure regional figure
until his sons’ success brought
him into the spotlight.
“My dad’s philosophy is, ‘Jazz
isn’t popular. Let’s play jazz,’ ”
Branford Marsalis told Jazz Times
magazine i n 2019. “When Wynton
and I were playing in R&B bands,
doing cover tunes, we were mak-
ing way more money than he was.
Wynton was like, ‘Doesn’t that
bother you?’ ‘No, I chose this,’ [he
said]. That was the end of it.”
Beginning in the 1980 s, Mr.
Marsalis’s rising profile led to re-
cording contracts and occasional
appearances with his sons, in-cluding with Branford on “Loved
Ones,” a 1 996 album containing 14
songs with women’s names in the
title — including “Dear Dolores,”
which Mr. Marsalis wrote for his
wife.
His 1990 recording with Wyn-
ton, “The Resolution of Ro-mance,” containing more than 20
ballads, was a portrait of musical
sensitivity and a high point for
both musicians.
“I heard my father playing
these songs in clubs so beautiful-
ly,” Wynton said in the liner notes
accompanying the album. “What Ilove about his style is that he’s got
a serious touch and he’s always
listening and always trying to
make everybody in the band
sound better, which is the best
way to play.... The feeling in his
playing comes through as just
what it is: deep interest and con-
cern for things human and musi-
cal.”
After retiring from teaching in
200 1, Mr. Marsalis devoted more
time to performing, including
regular appearances at the Snug
Harbor jazz club in New Orleans.
He often accompanied his four
musical sons, and the Marsalis
family collectively received the
Jazz Masters honor from the Na-
tional Endowment for the Arts in
2011.
“It’s nice to be known as a
performer, b ut this publicity came
30 years too late,” he told his son
Jason for the liner notes of their
1998 recording, “Twelve’s It.” “ At
this point I just want to pass
information on to as many of you
guys as possible.”
Ellis Louis Marsalis Jr. was
born Nov. 14, 1934 in New Or-
leans. His parents ran a motel
where many leading African
American entertainers and civil
rights figures stayed.
Mr. Marsalis played saxophonein his youth and did become a
full-time pianist until he was a
student at New Orleans’s Dillard
University, from which he gradu-
ated in 1955. He then served as a
musician in the Marine Corps,
appearing regularly on television
while stationed in California.
He was familiar with tradition-
al New Orleans jazz, but he much
preferred the complexities of be-
bop and more modern styles. He
ran a nightclub at his family’s
motel in the 1960 s, but it soon
failed. He began teaching in ear-
nest in 197 4, influencing genera-
tions of New Orleans musicians.
He later received a master’s de-
gree in musical education from
Loyola University in New Or-
leans.
He helped instill a respect for
quality and musical integrity that
his sons later made their musical
hallmark. He used a nutritional
analogy to make his point:
“I used to tell students that it
reminded m e of a dessert I bought
at the store once,” he told South-
ern Living in 1992. “I looked on
the box and there were no natural
ingredients in it at a ll.... [In jazz]
we were still playing instruments
like the saxophone, which you
have to breathe into to get sounds.
And the drums, which you have to
strike, and the piano, which is
made out of wood. There was
human control over them.”
In 1958, Mr. Marsalis was mar-
ried to Dolores Ferdinand, who
“commanded discipline in a
house where Dad was often on the
road,” Branford Marsalis told The
Washington Post in 2009. She
died in 2017.
In addition to Branford, Wyn-
ton, Delfeayo and Jason Marsalis,
survivors include two other sons,
Ellis Marsalis III, a poet and pho-
tographer, and Mboya Marsalis,
who is autistic and lived with his
father; a sister; and 13 grandchil-
dren.
Mr. Marsalis and his sons last
performed together as a family at
the New Orleans Jazz and Heri-
tage Festival in 2019. He gave his
final performance in December at
Snug Harbor. A community musi-
cal education facility was named
in his honor after Hurricane Ka-
trina devastated New Orleans in
2005.
Even though he played the pia-
no professionally, Mr. Marsalis
maintained a proficiency on other
instruments, including the bass
and saxophone.
“I remember being in the bath-
room one day and hearing a horn
playing Charlie Parker” licks on
the saxophone, Wynton Marsalis
told DownBeat magazine in 2011.
“I said, ‘Damn, Branford finally
learned how to play that thing?’ I
came into the living room, and it
was Daddy.”
[email protected]ellis Marsalis, 85
Pianist and patriarch of a New Orleans jazz dynasty
Judi Bottoni/associated Press
Ellis Marsalis performs at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival in 2009. Mr. Marsalis was a leading pianist in the city for decades
but did not gain widespread renown until his sons reached prominence as they helped lead a jazz revival in the 198 0s.susan ragan/associated Press
Mr. Marsalis, center, is joined by sons Branford, left, and Wynton
in New York in 19 92. “My dad’s philosophy is, ‘Jazz isn’t popular.
Let’s play jazz,’ ” Branford Marsalis told a magazine in 20 19.