REMEMBERING THE MASTER: JOE ALLARD
By Dave Liebman
Used with Permission
Copyright 2002, David Liebman
I don't remember the exact
details of how I began lessons with Joe, but it was somewhere around the age of
17 which would be about 1963. I had studied with a local teacher in Brooklyn but
needed to go further and after speaking with several teachers in Manhattan,
somehow I got to Joe. First of all it was quite a thrill to go to Carnegie Hall
Studios on the subway-it felt heavy! My first six months of lessons were mostly
on clarinet since I at that time I thought I would major on it to get a music
degree at Queens College where I had decided to go by then, since majoring in
saxophone was not a possibility in those days
I was completely baffled by
Joe's lessons. Here was supposedly the heaviest guy in New York and all he did
was tell stories about Toscanini, Mule, Duffaye, etc., etc., and take out Gray's
studies of anatomy to show how the respiratory system and vocal cords worked. I
would play one line out of the Rose clarinet studies and that would be it. Of
course there would be fixing reeds for the last part of each lesson. Taking the
subway home and writing notes down of what I remembered (no cassette machines
then), I just didn't get it.
But I persevered and realized that Joe was
ecumenical in that it didn't matter whether you were going for jazz or
classical, or played flute or sax or clarinet. I remember seeing the Giant Steps
transcription around the studio, but realized also he was teaching the highest
classical majors at Julliard and other conservatories. Joe was about principles
and concepts-content would follow. Like all great masters, he taught by
metaphor. The stories and his amazing demonstrations were meant to lodge in your
brain till it really seeped in. The overtone exercise is the best example of
that.
Finally, years later I realized the importance of Joe's exercises
and explanations: the "fat" bottom lip, the abdominal breath, the "e" position
for the back of the tongue, anchor tonguing for the tip and more. These were
guiding principles and once understood it meant that you were playing the
saxophone as intended-as an extension of your voice, not as some separate piece
of brass that you fingered.
And Joe was a nice guy. He had a cot in the
studio for cat naps because he taught for hours on end. Sometimes you would go
out while he napped and get a soup or coffee for him. Weekly, he traveled up to
Boston staying in the dormitory at the New England Conservatory and taking a
late plane home to Jersey. He also taught at his home. Several times he came to
see me play at the Vanguard meeting Elvin Jones, at the Willow in Boston which
was a student hang out and Carnegie Hall when I played with Miles Davis there.
In fact, Miles was unusually respectful when I introduced him. He said: "You
taught Steve(Grossman) and Dave-nice to meet you".
I stayed in touch with
him and visited the home in Jersey meeting his wonderful wife, Anne. I also
spent days up in his summer home in New Hampshire putting together the concepts
and thoughts for my eventual book and video on saxophone tone. When I saw that
Alzheimer was happening, I told Anne to get it checked because I knew it from
watching my father die that way. This was the saddest of all things-to see Joe
near the end or to watch the video, "the Master Speaks" because you can tell he
is losing it.
But my memories of him are vivid today with that impish
smile, easy laughter and a wonderfully pleasant personality. He was very hip and
knew the score, but was always a gentleman and kind to his students.
This
was a true master!!