Jazz giants will pay tribute to Joe Segal
It would be impossible for the jazz community in Chicago — and beyond — to repay impresario Joe Segal for all he has contributed to the music.
Having started by organizing jam sessions at Roosevelt University as a student in 1947, Segal has presented just about everyone who mattered in jazz ever since. Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Sonny Rollins, Ornette Coleman, Dorothy Donegan, Herbie Hancock, Marian McPartland — you name the artist, and chances are he or she played Segal’s Jazz Showcase.
Now several of Segal’s admirers in music will convene to express their gratitude, in the form of a benefit concert Monday evening at the Studebaker Theater. Joey DeFrancesco, the world’s preeminent jazz organist; Dee Alexander, Chicago’s most celebrated jazz vocalist; and several other top-notch musicians are donating their services for an event to help defray Segal’s medical expenses.
At 93, he needs 24/7 care at home.
“I’m hanging in all right,” says Segal, who plans to attend the marathon concert and makes it to the Showcase most Sundays to catch the matinee.
“I still have problems walking. I’ll probably be there in a wheelchair. I’ll come out and wave at everybody and say, ‘Thank you.’ ”
Once musicians began hearing about the planned concert, they wished to express the same sentiment.
“A lot of musicians wanted to come and play, but we don’t have enough time onstage for everyone,” says Wayne Segal, the impresario’s son, who now runs the club.
But Wayne Segal hastens to add that the concert is more than a benefit for his dad.
“It’s to celebrate his contribution to Chicago, to the jazz scene and nationally and throughout the world,” says Wayne Segal. “It’s a celebration of his life, as well.”
It has been a life rich in music, though not without its travails. In the early days of Segal’s career, he practically was a one-man-band, booking musicians, finding far-flung venues in which to present them, selling tickets at the door and introducing the acts onstage.
Back then, in the 1950s and early ’60s, jazz pulsed in bars, clubs, restaurants and hotel ballrooms across the city.
“There were clubs up and down Wells Street, even up in Evanston,” remembers Joe Segal, who rented space wherever he could find and afford it.
“There was a place where we had to go through a bowling alley, and the jazz room was in back. We did stuff in Gary, Indiana. We did stuff in Hyde Park, at the Beehive, and also on campus (at the University of Chicago). We had Miles Davis with John Coltrane. We had clarinetist Tony Scott, who had a young unknown pianist named Bill Evans.
“The (touring) guests thought they’d come and play a little. Then they heard our guys,” adds Segal, referring to the powerhouse Chicago musicians he’d hired to back the visiting stars, such as drummer Wilbur Campbell and multi-instrumentalist Ira Sullivan.
“Then they knew they had to blow.”
No Showcase venue was more exciting than the one on Rush Street, below the Happy Medium, in the 1970s. After dark, the sidewalks were thick with clubgoers dressed to the hilt. People queued up to get into the Showcase, the smoky, cavernous room often packed to capacity. I heard tenor men Zoot Sims and Al Cohn blasting at each other from opposite sides of the room; Teddy Edwards drawing silken lines from his tenor at all tempos; saxophonist Sonny Stitt reminding us what hard-driving bebop was all about (he once tapped the ashes of his cigarette into my beer when I sat at a front-row table — I was honored).
Many listeners probably remember the Showcase best from a 15-year run at the Blackstone Hotel, at Michigan Avenue and Balbo Drive, ending in 1995.
A new generation of future jazz stars announced their arrival there, among them trumpeter Nicholas Payton, saxophonists David Sanchez and Chris Potter, pianist Danilo Perez and others, as well as the old beboppers Segal always loved most: trumpeters Red Rodney and Sullivan, alto saxophonist Charles McPherson and so many more.
Next came music at 59 W. Grand Avenue and, for the past several years, the jewel box of a club at 806 S. Plymouth Court.
“It’s the best room we’ve had,” says Segal, who’s right about that.
But, of course, times and tastes change, and Segal knows well what a hard sell jazz can be these days. Marginalized on TV, radio and various pop culture outlets, jazz struggles to reach listeners outside the converts.
“The younger people don’t have the background, so they don’t really appreciate jazz as such,” says Segal. “They’ve gone into rock and rap and all that stuff.”
Not all, though. Swing by the Showcase on a Sunday afternoon, and you’ll see parents introducing their kids to the music. During the week, students from DePaul, Northwestern and Roosevelt universities, Columbia College and other nearby schools are checking out the scene.
In the meantime, Segal listens to his beloved jazz at home and fields phone calls from the old masters who are still around.
“I just talked to Jimmy Heath,” says Segal, referring to a 93-year-old saxophonist from Segal’s hometown of Philadelphia.
“I knew all those guys from Philly: Red Rodney, Jimmy Smith, Shirley Scott, Benny Golson, McCoy Tyner — a lot of good guys.
“Sonny Rollins is still around,” adds Segal of the 89-year-old New York saxophonist.
“Sonny called me a couple weeks ago. We had a long talk about his time in Chicago. I mentioned a bunch of obscure musicians. (Back then) he got himself straight and joined Max Roach at the Blue Note.”
What has Segal meant to jazz in Chicago?
“As far as I’m concerned, everything,” says Wayne Segal.
“I remember when jazz was very unpopular in
Chicago, and he kept it going all these years.”
Not surprisingly, Segal’s contributions have won various honors, most notably a National Endowment for the Arts Jazz Masters Fellowship, widely considered the country’s highest jazz honor.
“I’m thankful I was able to do something constructive with my life,” he says.
“I had five children, three of whom are still alive, including Wayne. And I have some very lovely grandchildren and greatgrandchildren.
“I’m glad I got out of Philadelphia.”
If he had it to do all over again, would he?
“Yeah,” says Segal. “But I’d try to be smart enough to make some money at it.”