(Washington Post)
Chris Connor, 81; Cool-Jazz Singer Exhibited Daring Versatility
by Adam Bernstein
Washington Post, September 1, 2009
Chris Connor, 81, a smoky-voiced singer who helped define the "cool jazz" style
in the 1950s and was an acclaimed performer in leading concert halls and supper
clubs for decades, died Aug. 29 at a hospital in Toms River, N.J. She had
cancer.
Her death was confirmed by Lori Muscarelle, her companion and manager.
Largely self-taught as a singer, Ms. Connor modeled her approach to music after
the breathy swing style of vocalists Anita O'Day and June Christy. Ms. Connor
was capable of great subtlety and intimacy on her recordings, which fit into the
relaxed cool jazz motif, and her versatility complemented the most understated
of trios and the largest of studio orchestras.
Ms. Connor launched her career singing with the popular big bands of Claude
Thornhill and Stan Kenton, with which she had a hit, "All About Ronnie." She
also recorded it with Ellis Larkins's small group for the Bethlehem label and
then went on to make a series of well-received albums for Atlantic Records,
including "I Miss You So" (1956) and "Witchcraft" (1959).
Her repertoire often accented jazz and pop standards by George Gershwin, Cole
Porter and Harold Arlen, but her song selection could also be daring, including
a version of Ornette Coleman's "Lonely Woman" from the 1962 album "Free
Spirits."
Unlike jazz singers Peggy Lee and Rosemary Clooney, Ms. Connor never expressed
interest in a pop career. The rise of rock-and-roll, an ill-timed decision to
leave Atlantic and her struggle with alcohol affected the prominence of her
later recording career in the United States. But her music was embraced anew by
audiences in Japan, where she also recorded in recent years.
Mary Jean Loutsenhizer was born Nov. 8, 1927, in Kansas City, Mo. She was 13
when her mother died, and she was raised in Jefferson City, Mo., by an older
sister and her father, a Western Union telegrapher.
After some clarinet training, she switched to voice and chose a career in music
at a young age. After high school, she changed her name to make it more
marquee-friendly and began singing between secretarial jobs.
She moved to New York in the late 1940s and quickly won a place in the
Snowflakes, the vocal group of the Thornhill big band. She kept a grueling
schedule and soon emerged as a featured singer with the band.
"With Claude, the whole five years was practically one-nighters," she told The
Washington Post. "You'd get to the job, if you were lucky, about 6 in the
evening and have maybe an hour and a half to grab a hamburger at the White Tower
and check in the hotel. And I'd have to get my gown ready, put it in the shower
and let all the wrinkles hang out.
"Then we'd go immediately to the job," she added. "And we'd be there for two or
three hours and then get back on the bus and travel all night, maybe 300 miles.
You try that for like 12 hours at a time -- it's very rough. It did me in."
During a paid vacation from Thornhill, Ms. Connor worked with other orchestras.
One engagement proved fortuitous. She was singing with a band when Christy, a
singer with Kenton, heard the broadcast over the radio and was dazzled by how
much it sounded like her own style. Christy, who wanted a solo career,
recommended Ms. Connor as her replacement.
Suffering from exhaustion, Ms. Connor lasted 10 months with Kenton, but he was
such a national draw that it boosted her career when she left to pursue a
recording career.
Along with Charles Mingus and The Modern Jazz Quartet, Ms. Connor became one of
the most important jazz artists to sign in the mid-1950s with the fledgling
Atlantic Records, run by brothers Ahmet and Nesuhi Ertegun. She stayed with the
company through many fruitful collaborations, including "Double Exposure" (1961)
with trumpeter and Kenton-band veteran Maynard Ferguson.
"Nesuhi gave me total freedom," Ms. Connor later said, "and I could sing
whatever I wanted to sing. Even when I was choosing musicians to perform with, I
had the chance to perform with first-rate musicians in the jazz field and to
also work with wonderful arrangers such as Ralph Burns. It was a tremendous
experience for me."
In 1963, Ms. Connor moved to FM, a short-lived label created by her manager,
Monte Kay, just as Atlantic was transitioning into an influential national
brand. "That was a bad career move," said Muscarelle, who became Ms. Connor's
companion in 1962 and her manager two years later. She is Ms. Connor's only
immediate survivor.
Furthermore, Ms. Connor said her parallel career singing in nightclubs, with its
easy access to liquor, exacerbated her alcoholism. She sought treatment and
stopped drinking in the late 1970s, just in time for a series of warmly received
albums and concert dates that drew a devoted following at venues including
Carnegie Hall in New York and the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts
in Washington.
Writing in the Chicago Tribune in 1987, jazz critic Larry Kart praised Ms.
Connor for a "dominating vocal presence whose music is full of hard-earned
wisdom and truth."
Ms. Connor continued to believe that her voice was best left to its own devices,
free of formal training. "Sarah Vaughan said I just go up there and let loose
and whatever comes out, comes out. That's the best way because as a jazz singer,
you can't do that," Ms. Connor told the reference guide Contemporary Musicians.
"It would not come out naturally and you must sing the way you feel and what
comes out emotionally. You either have it or you don't have it."
by Adam Bernstein
Washington Post, September 1, 2009
Chris Connor, 81, a smoky-voiced singer who helped define the "cool jazz" style
in the 1950s and was an acclaimed performer in leading concert halls and supper
clubs for decades, died Aug. 29 at a hospital in Toms River, N.J. She had
cancer.
Her death was confirmed by Lori Muscarelle, her companion and manager.
Largely self-taught as a singer, Ms. Connor modeled her approach to music after
the breathy swing style of vocalists Anita O'Day and June Christy. Ms. Connor
was capable of great subtlety and intimacy on her recordings, which fit into the
relaxed cool jazz motif, and her versatility complemented the most understated
of trios and the largest of studio orchestras.
Ms. Connor launched her career singing with the popular big bands of Claude
Thornhill and Stan Kenton, with which she had a hit, "All About Ronnie." She
also recorded it with Ellis Larkins's small group for the Bethlehem label and
then went on to make a series of well-received albums for Atlantic Records,
including "I Miss You So" (1956) and "Witchcraft" (1959).
Her repertoire often accented jazz and pop standards by George Gershwin, Cole
Porter and Harold Arlen, but her song selection could also be daring, including
a version of Ornette Coleman's "Lonely Woman" from the 1962 album "Free
Spirits."
Unlike jazz singers Peggy Lee and Rosemary Clooney, Ms. Connor never expressed
interest in a pop career. The rise of rock-and-roll, an ill-timed decision to
leave Atlantic and her struggle with alcohol affected the prominence of her
later recording career in the United States. But her music was embraced anew by
audiences in Japan, where she also recorded in recent years.
Mary Jean Loutsenhizer was born Nov. 8, 1927, in Kansas City, Mo. She was 13
when her mother died, and she was raised in Jefferson City, Mo., by an older
sister and her father, a Western Union telegrapher.
After some clarinet training, she switched to voice and chose a career in music
at a young age. After high school, she changed her name to make it more
marquee-friendly and began singing between secretarial jobs.
She moved to New York in the late 1940s and quickly won a place in the
Snowflakes, the vocal group of the Thornhill big band. She kept a grueling
schedule and soon emerged as a featured singer with the band.
"With Claude, the whole five years was practically one-nighters," she told The
Washington Post. "You'd get to the job, if you were lucky, about 6 in the
evening and have maybe an hour and a half to grab a hamburger at the White Tower
and check in the hotel. And I'd have to get my gown ready, put it in the shower
and let all the wrinkles hang out.
"Then we'd go immediately to the job," she added. "And we'd be there for two or
three hours and then get back on the bus and travel all night, maybe 300 miles.
You try that for like 12 hours at a time -- it's very rough. It did me in."
During a paid vacation from Thornhill, Ms. Connor worked with other orchestras.
One engagement proved fortuitous. She was singing with a band when Christy, a
singer with Kenton, heard the broadcast over the radio and was dazzled by how
much it sounded like her own style. Christy, who wanted a solo career,
recommended Ms. Connor as her replacement.
Suffering from exhaustion, Ms. Connor lasted 10 months with Kenton, but he was
such a national draw that it boosted her career when she left to pursue a
recording career.
Along with Charles Mingus and The Modern Jazz Quartet, Ms. Connor became one of
the most important jazz artists to sign in the mid-1950s with the fledgling
Atlantic Records, run by brothers Ahmet and Nesuhi Ertegun. She stayed with the
company through many fruitful collaborations, including "Double Exposure" (1961)
with trumpeter and Kenton-band veteran Maynard Ferguson.
"Nesuhi gave me total freedom," Ms. Connor later said, "and I could sing
whatever I wanted to sing. Even when I was choosing musicians to perform with, I
had the chance to perform with first-rate musicians in the jazz field and to
also work with wonderful arrangers such as Ralph Burns. It was a tremendous
experience for me."
In 1963, Ms. Connor moved to FM, a short-lived label created by her manager,
Monte Kay, just as Atlantic was transitioning into an influential national
brand. "That was a bad career move," said Muscarelle, who became Ms. Connor's
companion in 1962 and her manager two years later. She is Ms. Connor's only
immediate survivor.
Furthermore, Ms. Connor said her parallel career singing in nightclubs, with its
easy access to liquor, exacerbated her alcoholism. She sought treatment and
stopped drinking in the late 1970s, just in time for a series of warmly received
albums and concert dates that drew a devoted following at venues including
Carnegie Hall in New York and the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts
in Washington.
Writing in the Chicago Tribune in 1987, jazz critic Larry Kart praised Ms.
Connor for a "dominating vocal presence whose music is full of hard-earned
wisdom and truth."
Ms. Connor continued to believe that her voice was best left to its own devices,
free of formal training. "Sarah Vaughan said I just go up there and let loose
and whatever comes out, comes out. That's the best way because as a jazz singer,
you can't do that," Ms. Connor told the reference guide Contemporary Musicians.
"It would not come out naturally and you must sing the way you feel and what
comes out emotionally. You either have it or you don't have it."
