Dan Announces His Return

TST readers will be happy to know that reedman Dan Levinson is back in action after six months following a medical procedure that cast doubt on his future as a musician.

Dan has been a clarinetist and saxophonist with Vince Giordano’s Nighthawks for over 30 years. He had to give that up for reasons he describes. As many of you know, the Nighthawks’ 5:30PM (ET) set on Tuesdays is now live-streamed on YouTube at “Radio Free Birdland.” Almost every time that I tune in, someone posts in the chat “Where’s Dan Levinson?”

Dan posted this message on Facebook, which he rarely uses anymore, on July 6. Within two days received over 700 likes and generated over 400 comments, which shows how many people care about him. So here he is to tell you all about it. I have done nothing to edit it.

After an unavoidable hiatus of nearly six months, I’m pleased to announce that I’m playing my instruments again and am available for work. Molly, Aven and I have made it through these lean months only with the help of a few exceptionally compassionate friends. But I’m ready, willing and able to work again—and NEED TO, to keep us from ending up on a park bench.

Here’s the backstory, for those of you unfamiliar with what’s been going on. First and foremost, I need to allay concerns and put to rest some rumors that have been circulating: I HAVE NOT HAD A RECURRENCE OF CANCER, thankfully. I’m grateful to all of you who reached out to me to express your sympathy—I do appreciate that. But I’m not done with life just yet, and it’s not done with me.

Back in 1998 I was diagnosed with throat cancer. The standard treatment for that would almost certainly have ended my decade-long career as a professional clarinetist and saxophonist. But Dr. Mark Urken —then chairman of the Department of Otolaryngology at Mt. Sinai and one of the country’s top surgeons—came up with an alternative course of treatment for me that not only saved my life, but saved my career. I’ve been profoundly grateful to him for that. The treatment involved surgery on my neck (to remove the metastatic cancer), chemotherapy, radiation therapy, and brachytherapy.

Over the ensuing years, the radiation therapy gradually took a toll on everything that had stood in its path: my teeth, gums, tongue, esophagus, voice, and the soft tissue on the right side of my face. Dr. Urken and his team have been managing my follow-up care all these years, and we’ve been dealing with issues as they’ve presented themselves. In 2022 I learned that I’d eventually require surgery on my mandible (jawbone) to avoid a fracture and prevent recurring infections. (The medical term for what I had is osteoradionecrosis.) I held off as long as I could, fearful that the surgery would end my career. But by last year, playing my instruments had become increasingly difficult, so I knew the time had come.

It happened on February 10. Dr. Urken and his longtime associate, Dr. Daniel Buchbinder—an oral surgeon—worked on me for about eleven hours. The surgery involved removing a portion of the fibula in my right leg (yes—the same one I broke two years ago!) and grafting it onto my mandible, as well as inserting a titanium plate in my mouth. They spent a considerable amount of time working to preserve my ability to play clarinet and saxophone.

The surgery was a success. It was considerably more involved than the surgery I’d had 27 years ago was, and the road to recovery has been much longer. I spent two weeks in the hospital, including a week in the ICU.

I spent many months before my surgery and several weeks after it pondering what I’d do if I weren’t able to play my instruments. Those were scary times for me. All I’ve ever wanted to do was to make music. It was my dream from a very young age, although it took me a long time to figure out the vehicle through which I’d eventually do it. First it was singing, then piano, then guitar, then piano again. By the time I settled on the clarinet—motivated by my passion for traditional jazz and swing music—I was twenty years old and halfway through college. I picked up the saxophone a few years later at the urging of pianist Dick Hyman. But from that point, now over forty years ago, I was mostly at full throttle, trying desperately to make up for lost time.

The prospect of not being able to do what I was put on this earth to do was unfathomable to me. I never developed enough skill on piano or guitar to earn a living playing them, and the number of years it would take me to get there—if I even could—was more than I had. I needed to do something that would generate income for my family. The day in early April when I blew into my clarinet for the first time in over three months and heard A SOUND was truly one of the happiest days of my life.

Getting back into shape has been an unprecedented challenge. It was hard the first time, forty years ago, but this time it was harder. From a technical standpoint, I had to start all over again. I practiced long tones, scales, arpeggios, and etudes for several hours every day.

After three months of putting my embouchure through the wringer, I feel stronger than I did before the surgery. I have a few more battle scars, but have definitely earned the right to sing the blues (or PLAY them, anyway). If you’re in need, I’ve got a reed.