The world's best Christmas and New Year album was recorded for us by grandmother Ella.
The queen mother of jazz.
It seems that she has always been and is in our world.
Perhaps we are here for a short while and quite in passing.
Ella Fitzgerald (about her life - a little later) has an incredibly powerful discography.
She has worked with Count Basie, Louis Armstrong, Joe Pass, Duke Ellington, Quincy Jones, Bill Kenny.
She is the true embodiment of jazz.
The twilight of the hall, frozen in anticipation of the music.
An alien species, a microphone cast in chrome and darkness, ripped out of oblivion by a blur of light.
Strict harmony and madness of improvisation.
The deafening roar of giant bends and discreet, palm-sized piano and double bass.
Sound and silence.
Contrast and palette mixing.
What is winter for us?
Cold, fireplace, wet shoes, a glass of mulled wine, snowballs and laughter, a blizzard in the face, numb hands, warmth and candlelight in anticipation of the holiday.
Memories.
Tears and laughter.
The extraordinary beauty of decorated firs.
Only she could tell about everything just like that.
Only she.
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Ella Wishes You a Swinging Christmas is her 19th studio album, released through Verve Records in 1960.
She is 43, she is at the peak of her power and does only what she considers to be truly important: she is recording a holiday album for children.
This is exactly how it is for children, and this has been said by her more than once in different years.
Elle is accompanied by the orchestra conducted by Frank Devol, the very one who made a name for himself forever, arranging Nature Boy for Nat King Cole.
In each of the tracks, Devol surpasses himself - this is a cohesive epic narration, a saga about winter celebrations in our souls.
Everything sparkles, sparkles and shimmers.
And what a chorus!
What precision in the smallest details - you will not find a single blot, no matter how much you search.
Potion for cold weather and sorrow.
Elixir of happiness.
In 2000, Verve re-released the CD recording under studio number Verve 440 065 086-2, and the new version includes six additional tracks.
Highly recommend.
So what about Ella?
And what is the secret of her success, the ability to pave the shortest path to our hearts?
Poverty and endless wanderings.
Childhood, least of all like the world of Merry Christmas.
And Divine providence that never left her.
After the death of her mother, at 14, she left home, later ran away from two orphanages, and finally ended up on the street.
And it did not disappear.
Maybe because she didn't want to, or maybe because she shouldn't have been lost.
The one who has the keys to the Chest of Happiness showed it in 1935 to Chick Webb, the leader of a jazz orchestra and a unique drummer (also, by the way, who started from the very bottom).
Chick almost adopted Ella, fell in love like an older brother, took him to the orchestra, allowed her to sing as much as she wanted.
And then he died in 1939.
And he left her his orchestra.
Just like a real big brother.
As an emissary of God.
He was 30. Together they managed to record a very funny A-tisket, A-tasket.
And this was enough for the first success of the young, shy Ella.
And just a children's counting room.
Not a miss was "baby" Chick Webb, 130 cm tall.
Nobody's Fool.
It was he who, in the old days, won the sleek, sleek, languid Benny Goodman with his “fiercely roaring” big band in the legendary Savoy, in the battle for the title of “King of Swing”.
And he won.
And flew to his planet.
So at the wrong time.
And she was left alone again, but now she had her orchestra and her jazz with her.
And she was 22. The rest is known.
Ella's voice - sweet, like the honey of the heavenly heavenly bees of the squadron of God # 1, and just as healing and saving - accompanies us from birth, even if we don't even suspect it.
She is a friend of romantics and dreamers.
I think wine merchants all over the world should erect a monument to her the size of Mount Moiseyev.
Where would they be with their wine on long moonlit nights, if only? ..
When you put on your luxurious Thorens a luxurious (that is, any) her record, drink something decent.
She is the queen mother of jazz, after all, which means your mother too (unless, of course, you consider yourself decent people and do not pay much attention to the color of your own and other people's skin).
She is a queen mother, even if she raised only one child she adopted - her own nephew, whom she named Ray Brown - the youngest in honor of her husband, the great double bass player Ray Brown - the elder.
And went out of the younger sense.
They were married for a short time.
They hardly saw each other because of the series of endless performances and tours - and yet they remained good friends for their entire life in music.
After that she retired in a modest house on a hill, or perhaps it was not a hill at all, but an old mill by an unnamed river, or a hut among giant sequoias, or a high lighthouse tower on a promontory that stretches so far into the sea that it is not visible and coasts, and that is why the music is not tied to the pier or the pier and floats freely as it wants it, and sways quietly on light waves, and lulls, lulls with a languid and long look ...
God was pleased with her.
She was shy, shy, laconic and always worried before performing.
She has collected all imaginable and inconceivable awards, 13 times became a Grammy laureate.
However, this is all empty and useless husk.
In the 1970s, close friends used to visit her lighthouse along a high spiral staircase, climb to the very top, so that there, in a hut, sheltered by the mighty branches of General Sherman, they could drink something like that in a strong stormy weather, sing something like that, looking on tall waves with white lambs-bangs of ripe southern cotton.
It seems that in those days the sea water washed away the entire visible world, but above, closer to the flaming spotlight, closer to the fire, in a huge studio-house, open to all winds, peace and tranquility reigned.
And jazz.
And the blues.
And songs of the heart.
And there was nothing but vocals, and to it, in addition to a guitar or a piano, and quite a bit and to the best of the double bass.
Sometimes.
For an old friendship.
If suddenly he dropped by, in addition to Joe and Oscar, also Ray Sr.
We want to believe that this is how everything was (recorded), although, of course, it was all (recorded) not at all.
On August 29, 1973, Joe Pass dropped in to see her.
All day Ella sang and Joe played guitar.
In Los Angeles.
At the lighthouse.
In the middle of the city and the sea.
In a hut by a small fire.
And there was no one but these two in the whole world.
Nine songs, nine simple stories about love and life with and without her - Take Love Easy album.
When rain knocks on high windows to the north, or the sun floods the south, fading in the gold of the day, when something else happens that cannot be, should not, or that was terribly long expected and finally happened, listen to this disc.
This is the correct record.
She can help you.
Nothing extra.
A conversation between two worthy people.
On May 19, 1975, Oscar Peterson was her guest.
And again Ella sang all day long, and Oscar played the piano incessantly.
Following the sun on water and land.
Following myself.
A little later, in the evening, and not for long, Ray joined them.
With a constant double bass.
How in time he did it.
How on time.
Nine songs about the seasons and about us in them - the album Ella and Oscar.
Nine songs about a life that will surely pass someday, but is that really the point?
Does this mean anything?
When it gets quite warm and a chilly western wind blows, when it knocks you down, singing lullabies into your ear, full of snow and ice, listen to this disc.
She's correct.
And she will definitely help you.
Nothing extra.
Just a conversation of three worthy friends.
All three were tied with an invisible thread for many years.
Or rather, no, all four - after all, Ray Brown, the elder, was with them.
Now that thread is not destined to break, and this is a sign and manifestation of the higher power of real art.
Do not be lazy, I ask you, do not be lazy.
Read at least sometimes the stories of great jazzmen, read and listen to the music created by them, because they ate their bread for a reason.
They lived by what they did.
And yes, another album in your collection is the magical The Best Is Yet to Come, recorded in 1982 on Pablo Records with the brilliant Nelson Riddle Orchestra.
This is Ella Fitzgerald's 50th studio album.
The absolute pinnacle of jazz and the highest, unencumbered level of skill.
This is all that remains unspoken.
This is Love.
This is the music of love.
On January 26, 1976, Joe Pass came to her again.
He stayed for an unusually long time, until February 8th.
And every time in the evenings Ella sang something, and Joe played something on the guitar.
So they kept the conversation going.
Conversation without words.
A conversation about snow and rain, about early autumn, about waltz and samba, about jazz and how much water has flowed under the bridge since those first days on earth.
Big blues in the heart of jazz.
14 songs, 14 true stories - Fitzgerald and Pass… Again.
When you remember all those who made up the mosaic of your lives and your days, when their faces will pass before your eyes, when you feel both bitter and funny, listen to this disc.
And she will help you.
And not at all because it is correct, but simply ...
Just listen.
The author's point of view may not coincide with the position of the editorial board.