Jazz on a Summer's Day

Doubtless inspired by Hollywood's success at integrating jazz and movies, a photographer named Bert Stern did some experimenting at the 1958 Jazz Festival in Newport, and the results are intriguing. Stern's film, Jazz on a Summer's Day, is a series of close-detail impressions taken in and around the Festival, using the jazz as background. And despite a noticeable uncertainty of purpose, it's an exceedingly fine job.

Stern lets his camera roam, picking up the boats reflected in weird patterns on the rippling water of Newport Harbor, a sedate matron startled by the sudden appearance of an amateur brass combo, or a bartender's fruitless battle with explosive beer bottles. The music is well-integrated throughout, reflecting the tasteful editing of Stern and Aram Avakian. The cumulative effect is excellent.

The movie, like the Festival, is a potpourri, ranging from Louis Armstrong's Dixieland Blues to the esoteric West Coast sound of Chico Hamilton. Jimmy Guiffre does his best piece, "The Train and the River," aided by Bob Brookmeyer. Thelonious Monk crashes through "Blue Monk." Anita O'Day does two vocals in her most irresistible manner, and Dinah Washington offers "All of Me," which is a bit too much for anyone to take.

The Gerry Mulligan set shows Mulligan before his famous decline and still good to listen to. He squirms through a number called "Catch As Catch Can," with particularly fine aid from Art Farmer. George Shearing gets the benefit of good angles and skilled use of colored lights during his piece. Then, after Big Maybelle, who is much reminiscent of Bessie Smith, and Chuck Berry, who is much reminiscent of cacophony, comes Chico Hamilton.

Hamilton is perhaps the one drummer around, not excluding Shelly Manne and Buddy Rich, who can make a long solo sound like music. Apparently either the 'cello and flute were flat or someone sabotaged the recording, for the Quintet sounds rather flat. But the solo is typical of Hamilton's best work.

Louis Armstrong does a crowd-pleasing routine about his trip to Europe and his audience with the Pope, then he and Jack Teagarden follow with "Old Rockin' Chair's Got Me."

And of course the picture like the Festival, ends with Mahalia Jackson singing the Lord's Prayer. As always Mahalia is superb.

Mr. Stern and Columbia Records have done an admirable job with the Festival, but, more important, they have made a very fine movie. By alternating shots of the performers with closeups of the more responsive members of the Festival audience, they have succeeded in relating the music to the listeners. Perhaps the greatest weakness of modern jazz is its love for the esoteric; it has evolved beyond the enjoyment of the uninitiated. Reasserting the tie between the artist and audience is a service for which jazz can be grateful.

At the same time, the initiates will enjoy the tight camerawork on the musicians. The closeup of Brookmeyer masked behind sunglasses and Guiffre bouncing energetically around the bandshell is a treat; so is the intense concentration of Hamilton during his solo. It is a commonplace of jazz that much rapport is lost in a large all-star program like Newport, and shots like these more than compensate.

Stern and Avakian have edited 8,000 feet of film out of a shooting of 130,000 feet; the material is well selected and beautifully coordinated. Come prepared to participate at least to the extent of snapping your fingers, and buy the Newport '58 record series, which duplicates the sound track.