Artie Shaw Dies at 94

Dec. 30, 2004--Artie Shaw died earlier today at his home in Newbury Park, California, about 40 miles west of downtown Los Angeles. He was 94.

Shaw was a brilliant clarinetist rivaled only by Benny Goodman. Shaw led what many consider the finest big band of the Swing Era because of the highly talented musicians who played in it and the brilliance of his arrangements. Listening to Shaw's records as I write this makes me realize once again how good he and his band really were, particularly the one from 1938-1939.

But Shaw did not like being so famous. He shut down his band a couple of times in the 1940s and, with the big band era a thing of the past, threw in the towel forever in the early 1950s. Writing became his new muse. He lived quietly, almost anonymously, in Southern California.

In the 1988-1989, I lived in Thousand Oaks, next to Newbury Park. I saw Shaw twice.

The first time was at a Wells Fargo branch near my home. The elderly man in front of me was yelling like crazy at the young teller, bringing her to tears. I tapped him on the shoulder and told him to lay off. He turned around, gave me a dirty look, and hurried out of the bank. I realized immediately that it was Shaw. The teller thanked me.

About a year later, I went to a lecture Shaw gave at the Thousand Oaks Public Library. He spoke in a classroom that had about 35 desks. About 20 people, mostly senior citizens, showed up. Shaw arrived a few minutes before seven o'clock, carrying some of his LPs, cassettes, and books.

He began his lecture by saying that he would not talk about his big band days or his eight wives. Shaw encouraged anyone to leave who came to hear about his music or his wives. A few walked out.

Shaw then began his talk, rambling about writing and other things for a little while. More people left. About seven-thirty, a dozen of us were still there.

"Any questions?" Shaw asked.

"Yes," I said. "Why do you refuse to talk about your big band years? You had one of the finest big bands ever. I still listen to your recordings all of the time and think they are fantastic. And most, if not all, of the people who came here tonight want you to talk about them."

Shaw hesitated for a moment. He knew I was right. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"OK," he finally agreed. "Go ahead."

There was one question after another. Shaw, reluctant at first, opened up. He even smiled and laughed a few times. His memories were vivid and colorful. His mind was sharp, alert, fast.

"Nothing fails like success," I said. "My friend in Chicago, Studs Terkel, often says that."

"I know Studs," Shaw said. "He's absolutely right." Both Shaw and Terkel were big fans of Chicago jazz from the 1920s.

"You know, it just gets really boring playing the same big band arrangements night after night, year after year," Shaw said. "Any big band musician will tell you that. Small group jazz offers much more freedom."

As the hour came to an end, Shaw said the albums and books he brought were for sale. A couple of people bought a few. As I was leaving, he asked me if I wanted to buy any. I smiled. "No, Mr. Shaw, I've had all of your albums for a long time." And then I thanked him for doing the lecture.

"Your welcome," he said. We shook hands.

Artie Shaw's music is as haunting, as enchanting today as it was 65 years ago. To find out, all you have to do is listen....

To do so right now, just click on the title of this entry.