I grew up in Chicago always thinking my brother, Art Sares, was one of the greatest trombonist ever. He had been compared to Tommy Dorsey as one of the great lyrical trombone players of the world. While clearly there is family bias at play here, he was indeed a special player and that's documented but this piece is not about him. I had my own favorites as well, and growing up in the 50's, I leaned toward the West Coast jazz scene with its laid back, swinging feel. This "Cool" jazz was soothing to my ears, though I admit to sometimes listening to some pretty good Hard Bop stuff as well, particularly Gene Ammons. Of course, the Bird prevailed. Shorty Rogers' music and arrangements, in particular, resonated and the sounds of Bud Shank's alto and John Graas's French horn were something to behold. While my friends were listening to Fats Domino, Bill Haley, and Peggy Lee, I was digging June Christy, Anita O'day, J.J. Johnson, Herb Ellis, Hampton Hawes, Jimmy Giuffre, Conte and Pete Condoli, Curtiss Counce, Gerry Mulligan, Shelly Manne, Bob Brookmeyer and all the rest. Of course I was weaned on Woody's Third Herd and Stan Kenton's big bands. Hell, I remember Kenton's scary background music in "Blackboard Jungle" and Shorty's driving work throughout the "Wild One." "Blues for Brando" is a cult classic. You might say I was before my time...
But there was one guy whose playing stopped me in my tracks. His name was Frank Rosolino, one of the finest trombone players ever and, as many have attested to, one very sweet man....one of the best-loved on the jazz scene. He was a hip jokester with a great wit. He literally bubbled with laughter, energy and mischief. But on the horn, he was all business. He had a full sound, great technique, great ideas (my God could he improvise), and a deep lyricism. As J.J. Johnson once said, "Frank Rosolino was a towering genius and a trombone virtuoso of the jazz genre. His style was unique and instantly recognizable." Quite simply, he was one of the all time greats in the world of jazz trombone whose playing had a quality that penetrated to the listener's core. As well, he had a spiritual quality that was almost palpable; it resonated with his fellow musicians and associates. I can't count the number of exams I studied in college while Frank, Shorty, Art Pepper, Gerry, Zoot and others played softly in the background, or how I got myself emotionally psyched listening to the coolest of the cool and their relaxed West Coast sound. But there was something about Frank's sound that was more soulful than the others...more spiritual in nature. Perhaps it was his genius-like ability to improvise fluidly so well........or maybe, just maybe................it had something to do with escaping from certain realities the nature of which only Frank was aware but I'm getting ahead of myself.
Born in Detroit in 1926, Frank Rosolino took up the trombone at age 14 after having studied guitar with his father Gaspar when he was nine. He graduated from Miller High School, while playing in the Cass Tech Symphony Orchestra. Frank was one of a number-of fine jazz musicians to come out of Cass Tech in Detroit, an excellent high school in which only the exceptional could enroll. Donald Byrd and Milt Jackson were others.
Following service in the U.S. Army during World War Two (like so many other great musicians of the 50's), he played for a number of big bands including Glen Gray, Herbie Fields, Gene Krupa, and Tony Pastor. He made his first real mark while playing in the more popular of Stan Kenton's progressive big bands (1952-1954) where he was given great exposure as a soloist. He then settled in Los Angeles and worked with just about anybody who was anybody. Howard Rumsey's Lighthouse All-Stars in Hermosa Beach, the great Carl Fontana, Jean "Toots" Thielmans, Don Menza, Shelly Manne. While with the All-Stars, he played with other Kenton veterans for a number of years. He recorded often in this period, but rarely as a leader; he was quite upset that "Free for All" (which I am listening to as I write this piece and which he considered his best album), was never released. It has since been released and captures the essence of his music.
The studio scene started for him in Hollywood. Actually, while working at the Lighthouse, he was doing studio work as well working both day and night and enjoying every minute of it. There was a lot of jazz being played on recording sessions and he left himself open for any opportunity that presented itself. Eventually he started getting into motion picture work and live television. He was in the famous Sinatra movie, "The Man With The Golden Arm," with Shorty Rogers' orchestra, and in "The Sweet Smell of Success" staring Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtiss. He also did "I Want To Live" starring Susan Hayward; "the score by Johnny Mandel almost made you cry--it was so pretty," said Frank. Interestingly, each of these movies was both an artistic and box office success. He also enjoyed being in the nightclub scenes, in a group with Gerry Mulligan, Art Farmer and Shelly Manne. "A lot of times, on these picture calls, they'll take a quick shot of somebody blowing, and that's it, but on this particular picture they really held the camera on the musicians. Well, it won the Academy Award, you know--not because of our appearance on it; it just turned out to be a great movie." He also confessed to having a crush on the beautiful Hayward.
He had a soft way of talking and from all accounts, was the very essence of cool. For me, he was the "Chet Baker" of trombonists; the classic bebop musician that I had come to know through my brother. Many had visted our home in Chicago during the 50's and had their own way of talking.....and their own level of "cool." But his style and his celebrated and perky jokester side may well have hidden a darker side that went totally unnoticed. And this is where the mystery lies. Maybe it had to do with Frank's failed marriages (he had been married three times)......or maybe, to paraphrase author Gene Lees, the heartache of tough financial times combined with the searing frustration of seeing himself and other highly talented and academically trained musicians struggling to make do. And this, while bile-inducing so-called rock stars, touted as "artists," rode around in studio limos with members of their swarmy entourage. I had witnessed this with my brother and though He rarely discussed it, I knew it ate away at his him.......and justifiably so. Indeed, there are so many wonderful and talented musicians who go unappreciated while they are with us.
My brother-in-law, Walt Boenig, out of Las Vegas and an outstanding trombonist in his own right, once related a story about catching Frank, Carl Fontana, Chuck Andrus, Pat Sherrod, and Adelaide Robbins playing at a small club on Eastern and Owens avenues sometime in 1977. He said there were only four patrons in the place but Carl, Frank and the others played like it was packed, like there was no tomorrow, and had a fantastic time doing it. Walt said it was one of those "magical moments" that you get to experinence maybe once or twice in a lifetime. A few years later, Carl mentioned to Walt that he sensed there was another side to Frank but "it just never came to the surface and it was something that you just coundn't put your finger on."
In any event, no one can be exactly certain as to sequence of events that precipitated what happened on November 26, 1978. Surely, when Frank learned that his third wife and mother of his two sons went into their garage, turned on the car's motor, and committed suicide, something must have snapped in his mind. Who knows what her motive could have been. Maybe that Frank was living with another woman, but that is pure speculation. He is reported to have mentioned to friends shortly after hearing this horrific news that he might kill himself as well and take his two boys with him. Apparently, he could not bear the thought of leaving them behind. While seemingly okay a short time later..............he even cracked jokes to his friends as was his wont.........something was going on in the mind of this person who had given the world so much pleasure. Horrible demons were at play and viable options must have been disappearing. As his friend Roger Kellaway said later. "When somebody cracks four jokes a minute, we all should have known there was something wrong."
Frank had declined to go out that evening with his companion, Diane. He waited after she had left and then sometime later, as she was pulling up in her car, went into the bedroom where his two angelic sons,Jason and Justin, were sleeping. He shot each of them in the head. Justin was dead. Jason was not and he underwent immediate and extremely lengthy surgery to save his life. Frank put the final shot into his own brain and died shortly after. The coroner's report indicated there were no significant amounts of alcohol or drugs in Frank's system. Jason survived but was blinded and severely disabled, but that's another story and needs to be told by someone with the necessary literary skills to capture the proper pathos.
No one can become inured to this kind of tragedy. It's difficult enough to try to comprehend the inherent nature of suicide, but to understand making that descision for others is beyond my comprehension. There just is no way to understand the illusion of one's control that the random, sudden and scary nature of death can strip away. I have never achieved resolution regarding this tragedy nor have I attempted to. I will not delude myself by trying to make any sense out of the senseless. Suffice to say we lost an extraordinary virtuoso on the trombone..........one who inspired me with his music......and I would just as soon leave it at that.
As an aside, I recommend the book, "Meet Me at Jim & Andy's: Jazz Musicians and Their World," by Gene Lees, published by Oxford University Press, October 1988, in which the author devotes a marvelously written chapter to Frank.
"Frank was a fantastic musician, but behind that cut-up personality was a troubled man." - Benny Carter
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