“The Greatest Photo Taker”: Remembering Jack Bradley Part 37–Italian Sessions December 1967
And now for something completely different! Has anyone out there heard Louis Armstrong sing in Italian? If you have, consider yourself a die-hard Pops fan, but if you haven’t, you’ve come to the right place as this post will contain the music, photos, and stories behind one of the most unique Armstrong recording projects in his entire discography.
The Sanremo Song Festival is one of the most popular music competitions in the world, having taken place in Italy annually since 1951 in Sanremo, Liguria. The competition aspect doesn’t come strictly from the musicians and singers; rather it is a songwriting competition, with new compositions being performed by multiple artists. In 1964, the festival required that each entry would be sung by one Italian artist and one foreign artist. This opened the door for performances by Connie Francis, Dusty Springfield, and Petula Clark in 1965, Gene Pitney and Pat Boone in 1966, and Sonny and Cher in 1967. The drama hit a fever pitch in 1967 when singer-songwriter Luigi Tenco committed suicide after his song was eliminated.
With so much buzz–good and bad–over the festival, the 1968 edition would spare no expense, bringing in Shirley Bassey, Wilson Pickett, Eartha Kitt, Lionel Hampton, and Louis Armstrong. Though the actual Festival wouldn’t take place until February 1968, Armstrong was asked to record four new selections in Italian in December 1967 as the records would be released in Italy by Company Discografica Italiana to coincide with the festival.
Company Discografica Italiana was run by Italian theater impresario Pier Quinto Cariaggi, then-husband of the popular Italian singer and actress Lara St. Paul. Louis and Lara would hit it off when he eventually visited Sanremo and she would become a regular presence in the scrapbooks and collages he would make in the final years of his life. She didn’t make it to New York for the recording session, but Cariaggi was present.
According to Jack Bradley’s Coda magazine column, the All Stars rehearsed the four selections on December 7 and 8, 1967 and recorded the first two at Decca’s studios on 57th Street on December 11 and the final two at Decca on December 12. Armstrong had been recording his recent Brunswick dates at Decca and in some ways, the Italian sessions would be a glorified Brunswick session: Dick Jacobs conducted and assumedly wrote the arrangements, plus the All Stars were augmented by multiple guitars and even a mandolin.
Jack Bradley was there for at least one of the rehearsals and fortunately had his camera with him. The first shot he took? A bottle of Chival Regal on Tyree Glenn’s music stand, along with his trombone, plunger mute, and part for “Mi Va Di Cantare.”
Here, Bradley catches Armstrong entering and hanging up his coat:
Does anyone recognize the studio? This would be the All Stars’s main space to rehearse in New York City in the 1960s; that large painting on the wall in the background is pretty memorable. I’m guessing it might be the famed Nola Rehearsal Studio on West 57th Street, the same street where Decca’s studio was located. Here are the principals: Louis, Buddy Catlett on bass, Marty Napoleon on piano, Joe Muranyi on clarinet, Danny Barcelona on drums, and Tyree Glenn on trombone. You’ll also an unidentified man sitting next to Louis–he’ll play a big role in today’s post:
Okay, who is this man? Unfortunately, his name is unidentified but according to Jack Bradley, he was from the Berlitz School and was there to help Armstrong with his Italian pronunciations! He’d have his work cut out for himself….
As Pops worked on his Italian with the Berlitz instructor, Marty Napoleon took over at the drums!
Here are the All Stars in full, with some extra folks in the room. That’s Louis’s longtime road doctor, Dr. Alexander Schiff behind Danny Barcelona. The man in the white shirt with his back to us is Dick Jacobs, who arranged and conducted Armstrong’s Brunswick sessions. The man now sitting next to Louis is Pier Quinto Cariaggi, who received co-composer credit two of the selections. There’s also an unidentified man standing next to the piano who will appear in some later photos; I assume he was either with Company Discografica Italiania or the Sanremo Song Festival:
Another angle; that’s band boy Bobby Buster sitting by the door; the woman seated behind Jacobs is unidentified:
A smiling Tyree Glenn holds up his bottle of Chivas Regal:
Joe Muranyi takes a swig from Glenn’s bottle:
A good shot of Jacobs conducting the band:
After two day of rehearsing, Armstrong and the All Stars were as ready as they’d ever be for the first recording session of December 11. The All Stars would be augmented for this date and Jack Bradley captured all the new additions in one photo: from left to right, trumpeter Clark Terry, Tyree Glenn, guitarist Wally Richardson, an unidentified mandolinist, and guitarist Art Ryerson:
Here’s another shot of the mandolin player, with Buddy Catlett and Danny Barcelona in the background:
Marty Napoleon:
Art Ryerson, doubling on mandolin:
And finally, Pops, working hard, studying those lyrics:
Here he is blowing as the Berlitz instructor holds a copy of the music:
As the session progressed, the Berlitz man got closer in order to help Pops get it right:
Louis looks very serious here as he continues to study his part:
Some great photos of Louis blowing–and wait until you hear what he blew! Audio to come but perhaps my favorite late 1960s Louis Armstrong solo took place on this occasion:
Armstrong takes a minute to pose for some photos with this unidentified man, either from the record label or festival:
But in these next two photos, the smile is replaced by a pained expression. The first time I interviewed Joe Muranyi in 2006, he told me a story about how during the recording of one particular take, Louis ended in one place and the band ended somewhere else. Louis apparently got upset as Dick Jacobs and the Italians present had to go over the arrangement to see where the trouble was. Muranyi thought it was all rather amusing and let out a chuckle, leading Armstrong to lash out at him, “You like your job?” Muranyi clammed up but always remembered that moment, saying it was the only time Louis ever kind of threatened him. But Muranyi understood that this was a tall order, not only learning new songs but singing them in a different language!
By this point, even Dick Jacobs snuck in a smile as the Berlitz instructor now stands up to whisper the pronunciation of each line in Louis’s ear just before he sings it! Also, how great is it to see Louis and Clark Terry in the same photo; it’s a shame Bradley didn’t corner the two of them to take something more formal.
By this time, the Berlitz instructor is wearing headphones, perhaps listening to a playback and seeing what could be improved:
Louis is now listening and at first, seems a little leery….
….but eventually, it’s all smiles!
And how could it not be? Both recordings done on December 11 are magnificent. First up was “Dimmi, Dimmi, Dimmi.” I might be an Italian-American, but I don’t speak Italian so I can’t speak to Armstrong’s pronunciation, but his phrasing is righteous and he swings as usual. But it’s the trumpet solo that’s the main event on this one, truly one of his finest moments from this period or any period; my good friend Phil Person, who is an outstanding trumpeter, teaches at Berklee, and reads this website, uses this solo as his outgoing voicemail message! Here’s the full recording, but go straight to 1:35 for the beauty:
Next up was “Mi Va Di Cantare,” which would be Armstrong’s big number at Sanremo, where it was also performed by Lara St. Paul. This is a lovely tune–how great it is to hear Clark Terry’s instantly recognizable sound in the opening ensemble–with another great trumpet solo, one that ends with a humorous quote of “Stormy Weather”:
And before we leave the December 11 session, Jack Bradley did take some handwritten notes, giving five stars to the trumpet solo and notating a memorable line Louis uttered when he was struggling!
Sure enough, on his audio diary made a few weeks later, Joe Muranyi only spent a few seconds on the Italian sessions–and didn’t tell the “You like your job?” story he told me 40 years later–but he did repeat the “going back to that mule” line:
24 hours later, Armstrong was back in the same studio with the same personnel except for one change: Clark Terry was replaced by Jimmy Nottingham on second trumpet. Here’s Bradley’s short handwritten note on this session:
Bradley didn’t note that there some guests in the house, but he didn’t have to since he captured them with his camera; here’s Jeann “Roni” Fellows calling our attention to Louis talking with the great tenor saxophonist Big Nick Nicholas:
Failows could resist getting in there for a photo with these two giants:
And these photos of Louis and Big Nick are just a joy:
And Jimmy Nottingham couldn’t resist coming over and sharing something with Louis that gave both men a big laugh:
Bradley also got another photo of the guitar/mandolin section, with Failows looking on from the back of the room:
Bradley also managed to take some nice portraits of a couple of the All Stars. Here’s Marty Napoleon:
Buddy Catlett, with Joe Muranyi in the background:
Danny Barcelona:
Louis also had to make time to smile and greet the VIPs, including Caraggi and the others from again, I assume either the record label or the festival:
Then it was time to go to work, the Berlitz man once again by his side:
Here’s Caraggi, co-composer of both songs recorded that day, offering some notes:
And now for something special! If you’ve been with this series for all 37 parts, you’ll know that Jack Bradley shot in black-and-white 90% of the time. But for this second Italian date, he brought along a roll of color film–here are some beautiful, colorful images from December 12:
I LOVE that last photo of just Louis’s trumpet. Louis plays very well on both sides, if not quite hitting the highs of the previous day. Here’s “Grassa e Bella”:
And finally, “Farfallina,” which has a double-time section that allows for good solos by Armstrong, Muranyi, and Glenn (Muranyi also recalled to me the “corny” “Twelfth Street Rag”-type phrase he had to play to herald the tempo change):
That concluded Armstrong’s days in the studio recording these Italian sides, but I think we should quickly go out of chronology and end with Armstrong’s Sanremo Song Festival performance two months later. Armstrong performed “Mi Va Di Cantare” on the first night and did it very well, just like the record. In fact, Armstrong’s performance was enough for him to reach the final stage the following evening. However, Joe Muranyi–who wasn’t there, but got the scoop from Marty Napoleon, who played with Louis at the Festival–told me that Louis hadn’t quite grasped that it was a “competition” and when he found out, threw a tantrum backstage.
Thus, he came out with something to prove, the old fire still burning brightly in his belly. He did his best while singing, reading the lyrics of “Mi Va Di Cantare” off of giant cue cards placed at the foot of the stage–no Berlitz instructor here–but then he picked up his trumpet and went to work. Like the record and like the first night, he was only expected to play a short 12 bar solo but instead, he kept going and going, playing an entire chorus, signaling the band to go into another one (watch Marty Napoleon beam), trading with the clarinetist, and ending on a declarative high note. In my first book, I called it perhaps Armstrong’s last great extended, spontaneous solo and I stand by it. Here’s the footage:
That YouTube upload ends abruptly but the ovation apparently went on for five minutes–here’s another upload where the performance is shortened, but you’ll see more of the reaction:
Alas, even with the standing ovation, it wasn’t enough for Armstrong to win the competition; of all the international stars, Wilson Pickett actually placed highest, finishing fourth. Still, Armstrong’s performance was the talk of the festival, as can be judged by this newspaper article by Don Short from the aftermath:
In a later Coda column, Jack Bradley mentioned that Joe Glaser was trying to work out a deal with Brunswick to release the Italian sides in the United States but it never happened. Armstrong himself, however, for all the stress of recording them, remained very proud of his work in Italian, dubbing them to multiple reel-to-reel tapes and even sending copies of the sides to friends around the world. For that solo on “Dimmi, Dimmi, Dimmi” alone, the experiment was worth it!
But Armstrong wasn’t quite finished in the recording studio in 1967 after the Italian sessions. He’d be back a week later to record two selections for Mitch Miller at United Artists before playing a Christmas event at the Waldorf-Astoria; Jack Bradley would be there for both and we’ll have the photos in our next post, which will be our finale for 2023. Thanks for reading!