belyin
07-23-2009, 01:39 AM
I don't check in here all that often, but I'm a bit surprised no one has posted about the passing of Hart McNee (http://www.nola.com/news/index.ssf/2009/07/hart_mcnee_new_orleans_flutist.html). Hart was an extraordinary musician, painter, character, and person. Like so many gifted musicians who have given their whole life to music, Hart never really received his due. He never cared about p.r. or fame (although he would have appreciated more gigs)--he really cared only about the music. He performed at Jazz Fest over 40 times, but only once as a leader. (One year, he made 6 hits at Jazz Fest--and was paid less than $300 total!)
Hart spent the last 20 years in New Orleans, where he played flute and baritone with the Storyville Stompers, Mas Mamones, Los Vecinos, Otra, Frankie Ford, John Boutté, Coco Robicheaux, Ricardo Crespo, Mayuba, Metropolis, the Naked Orchestra, Rob Wagner's New Thing, Poorman's Speedball among others. As a leader, Hart recorded 4 cds on Frenchmen Street Records, primarily on the rarely played bass flute. Hart also played treble flute and piccolo, and he was schooled in Bata drumming. He also spent 6 years blowing on his bari on Bourbon Street--that alone ought to reserve him a primo spot in heaven!
Hart was raised up in Chicago. As a teenager in the late 50's/early 60's he was one of the relatively few white kids actively checking out the still vital Chicago blues scene. Hart's hero was Howlin' Wolf, who he heard many, many times on his home turf, and he was also checking out Muddy Waters and Otis Rush. Other white kids on the scene included Michael Bloomfield, Elvin Bishop, Steve Miller, Nick Gravenites, and Boz Scaggs, and Hart was an integral part of their various groups over the course of various migrations (to Madison, Wisconsin and San Francisco, specifically.) Hart did not believe in flying, so he had to quit both Boz' and Steve Miller's bands when they made it big, but in the Bay area he was a longtime member of Bloomfield's band, and he also got to record with Otis Rush, cult figure Karen Dalton, and Marvin Holmes and the Funk Company, with whom he held a steady gig in Oakland for many years.
In addition to Wolf, Hart's other hero was John Coltrane, and like those two there was a full tilt intensity to McNee, yet tempered by a very joyous and playful (good) nature. He was proud of his overpowering baritone sound that could cut like chain saw, yet in the last few years he concentrated on the bass flute, an equaling demanding instrument but one that required a much more nuanced approach. Hart was a great improviser because he was always in the moment, always tuned in, and always honest. I learned so much about music listening with Hart, striving to hear like he could. He was invaluable to me when evaluating sessions I had produced because he could instantly identify when someone was strong or tentative, when they were saying it or faking it, or any stumble in pitch, tempo, rhythm, or form. But in the end, the most valuable lessons Hart taught his friends transcended music, such as how to face one's fears of dying, failure, or rejection forthrightly and head on and how to live one's life on one's own terms no matter what hand you are dealt. He was one of a kind, and he will be dearly missed.
Hart spent the last 20 years in New Orleans, where he played flute and baritone with the Storyville Stompers, Mas Mamones, Los Vecinos, Otra, Frankie Ford, John Boutté, Coco Robicheaux, Ricardo Crespo, Mayuba, Metropolis, the Naked Orchestra, Rob Wagner's New Thing, Poorman's Speedball among others. As a leader, Hart recorded 4 cds on Frenchmen Street Records, primarily on the rarely played bass flute. Hart also played treble flute and piccolo, and he was schooled in Bata drumming. He also spent 6 years blowing on his bari on Bourbon Street--that alone ought to reserve him a primo spot in heaven!
Hart was raised up in Chicago. As a teenager in the late 50's/early 60's he was one of the relatively few white kids actively checking out the still vital Chicago blues scene. Hart's hero was Howlin' Wolf, who he heard many, many times on his home turf, and he was also checking out Muddy Waters and Otis Rush. Other white kids on the scene included Michael Bloomfield, Elvin Bishop, Steve Miller, Nick Gravenites, and Boz Scaggs, and Hart was an integral part of their various groups over the course of various migrations (to Madison, Wisconsin and San Francisco, specifically.) Hart did not believe in flying, so he had to quit both Boz' and Steve Miller's bands when they made it big, but in the Bay area he was a longtime member of Bloomfield's band, and he also got to record with Otis Rush, cult figure Karen Dalton, and Marvin Holmes and the Funk Company, with whom he held a steady gig in Oakland for many years.
In addition to Wolf, Hart's other hero was John Coltrane, and like those two there was a full tilt intensity to McNee, yet tempered by a very joyous and playful (good) nature. He was proud of his overpowering baritone sound that could cut like chain saw, yet in the last few years he concentrated on the bass flute, an equaling demanding instrument but one that required a much more nuanced approach. Hart was a great improviser because he was always in the moment, always tuned in, and always honest. I learned so much about music listening with Hart, striving to hear like he could. He was invaluable to me when evaluating sessions I had produced because he could instantly identify when someone was strong or tentative, when they were saying it or faking it, or any stumble in pitch, tempo, rhythm, or form. But in the end, the most valuable lessons Hart taught his friends transcended music, such as how to face one's fears of dying, failure, or rejection forthrightly and head on and how to live one's life on one's own terms no matter what hand you are dealt. He was one of a kind, and he will be dearly missed.