Dizzy Gillespie

Trumpet, Vocal · born 21 October 1917 died 6 January 1993

Click for Richard Cook Bio

John Birks Gillespie grew up with his eight siblings in Cheraw, South Carolina, and mostly taught himself the trumpet. He went to Philadelphia in 1935 and began playing in a local band led by Frankie Fairfax, where he made friends with Charlie Shavers and picked up his lifelong nickname, on account of a penchant for clowning around. Two years later he was in New York, scuffling for a job and eventually taking one of the trumpet chairs in the Teddy Hill band, because he sounded a bit like the previous incumbent, Roy Eldridge. He stayed two years (and visited Europe) but moved to Cab Calloway's band in 1939, where he became one of the star players, his Eldridge influence beginning to be displaced by an even more daring approach: after hours at Minton's in Harlem, he sat in with schemers such as Kenny Clarke and Thelonious Monk and tinkered with musical ideas that pointed towards a whole new sound. He was sacked from the band in 1941 after an argument with the leader and took on bits and pieces of work, before playing in a Philadelphia club where Charlie Parker often sat in. Both men then joined the Earl Hines band, staying for a year (a period during which no recordings were made), before Dizzy was hired by Billy Eckstine as MD for his new big band. Early in 1945, a Gillespie–Parker small group finally held an important engagement in New York, at The Three Deuces club, and it caused a sensation among musicians, effectively the unveiling of bebop. This was backed up by some of the first small-group bop recordings, for small labels such as Guild and Manor. Years of work and self-challenge had polished and driven Gillespie's playing to an electrifying level: as the message-bearer of bop's complexity and innate daring, his trumpet style brimmed with sensational ideas, enthrallingly executed. Although his tone sometimes betrays a thinness compared with some of those who followed him, it is also unflattered by the recording quality on many of the earlier bop sessions. With Parker, he was partnering the personification of bop's intensity: no wonder audiences were stunned, or in some cases repelled. At the end of 1945, Gillespie took a new sextet to the West Coast – the unreliable Parker was only occasionally in attendance – and played a residency at Billy Berg's club, although Californian audiences were sometimes indifferent to the new music. Back in New York, he had a second try at forming his own big band, the first attempt having quickly foundered a year earlier. Despite almost constant economic difficulties, the orchestra hung on until 1950, the only real bop big band which ever existed. Chano Pozo's addition to the rhythm section and originals such as Manteca (1947) made explicit Dizzy's interest in the possibilities of Afro-Cuban music, and there were radical charts in the book from such hands as George Russell, Gil Fuller and Tadd Dameron, as well as such sidemen as John Lewis, Milt Jackson and Sonny Stitt. But Gillespie was forced to disband in 1950 – in common with every other big-band leader, he felt the cold wind of an economic downturn. Slimming down to a sextet – which included John Coltrane – Gillespie carried on, for a time trying his hand at record production with his own Dee Gee label, although this went under quickly enough. He visited Europe early in 1952, and the following year saw one of his final appearances with Parker, at the celebrated Massey Hall concert in Toronto, with Bud Powell, Max Roach and Charles Mingus (the hall was half-empty owing to the concert's clashing with a big sports event). Norman Granz signed him to a record contract, where he 'met' the likes of Stan Getz and Roy Eldridge in the studios. During this period, he began playing a trumpet with an upturned bell, reputedly the consequence of an accident to one of his horns: it let him hear his own playing better.

In 1956 he went on a tour of the Middle East sponsored by the State Department, with a new big band, which he kept together for a time until another disbandment in 1958. Thereafter he worked with small groups during the 60s: James Moody was his regular front-line partner, and the music was nice if relatively uneventful. Gillespie seemed to save his best for projects such as Lalo Schifrin's setting Gillespiana (1960): as outstanding as his small-group work was, something about playing in front of an orchestra always seemed to take him up a notch. He ran for presidential office in 1963 (Jon Hendricks sang the campaign song, Vote Dizzy!) and was unsuccessful, but life on the road always kept him busy: he never kept away from bandstands for long. Granz signed him again when he started his new Pablo label, and there were a few goodish late records, although throughout the LP era record-making never seemed to bother Gillespie too much: one reason why his work is relatively undiscovered by the casual jazz audience is his lack of a signature album to come out of this period. By the 80s, he was jazz's most revered modernist, and bebop's great survivor: he always credited the steadying influence of his wife of many years, Lorraine, who kept him out of the trouble many of his contemporaries looked for. His lip was no longer as strong, but the sense of fun was undiminished, and he toured in honour of his 70th birthday with the old enthusiasm. Five years on, New York's Blue Note club put on a long celebration in honour of his impending 75th birthday, but his health had begun to fail and by the end of the year his powers had gone.

Among the compositions which he left behind were such bebop classics as A Night In Tunisia, Anthropology, Salt Peanuts (which Jimmy Carter sang with him at the White House) and Groovin' High, and with Manteca he ushered in the whole era of Latin jazz: his final big band he called The United Nation Orchestra, which shows how far his music had stretched. There was no greater entertainer in jazz, and no finer musician. One of Dizzy's visual trademarks was his enormously distended cheeks while blowing into the horn, a condition one doctor christened Gillespie's Pouches. Trumpet teachers always admonish their students not to puff out their cheeks while playing: but what aspiring trumpeter would not want to look and sound like Dizzy Gillespie?

Biography from Richard Cook's Jazz Encyclopedia (2005).

If you'd like more information, check out The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz (2002) or The Biographical Encyclopedia of Jazz (2007), both of which are still in print.