This month is the second entry in my occasional series “To ______ or Not to ________” where I examine musical practices to try to find an answer to rhetorical questions. I failed to arrive at a definitive conclusion with my first topic (“To Quote or Not to Quote,” TST May 2025) and anticipate the same result this time. This exploration is designed to invite you the reader to examine your thoughts regarding the subject, anyway.
Topic #2 is “To Sit or Not to Sit.” When a band plays traditional (or classic) jazz, should the front line sit or stand? When I was getting into this music as a kid in the 1970s-1980s, all the bands I encountered had a standing front line, and sometimes the banjo players also stood. By the late-1980s, when the Great Connecticut Traditional Jazz Festival was an annual event in Essex, Connecticut, bands from all over the country performed on high stages in large tents, and the front-lines stood. The only three bands I remember unanimously sitting (excepting the double-bassist) were S. Frederick Starr’s Louisiana Repertory Jazz Ensemble, The New Leviathan Oriental Fox-Trot Orchestra, and the Fenix Jazz Band. The first two groups were reading bands, so sitting was reasonable; the third was from Argentina so I figured that was simply how they did things there.
As I tuned more into the history of jazz, I learned about some of the conventions of early New Orleans music. Sometimes the gigs the jazz musicians were playing went on for hours and hours, and if the dance floor was filled, a tune of a certain “Funky Butt” tempo could conceivably go on for twenty minutes. Many of these events were casual dances or social club get-togethers; it was hot; it was late; a good number of the musicians in the groups also had “day jobs”: sitting made sense. The handful of times I attended a concert by one of the traveling Preservation Hall outfits, the musicians playing horns were sitting (of course, many of them they were in their 70s and 80s, so again, sitting made sense).
In the early 1990s, I started performing on the festival circuit and saw some bands sitting down. One notable example at a West Coast festival was a group from Pennsylvania called the Boilermaker Jazz Band. These guys were emulating New Orleans clarinetist George Lewis’ aggregations down to wearing black trousers and white socks while they sat playing hot music. For the uninitiated (me at the time) this looked weird!! At that same festival, I also heard for the first time the Grand Dominion Jazz Band and the Golden Eagle Jazz Band. Both groups also played in a New Orleans Revival style and, although with members perhaps twice as old as the Boilermakers, their front lines played standing!
Later, I encountered the Cakewalkin’ Jass Band from Toledo, OH, led by Ray Heitger (famous for that band and for siring and mentoring his son, the internationally revered trumpeter Duke Heitger). That front line was sitting.
So now I was getting a bit confused. Should the horn players stand or sit? Was my earlier East Coast experience or what I was now seeing as my travels expanded the “correct” way to play this stuff?
I played with a few ensembles paying homage to the revivalist New Orleans band styles and conventions and noticed that often they signaled the final ensemble by rising out of their chairs. I have to admit, if a band chooses to play with the front line sitting down, standing for the final chorus is an effective way to increase the audience’s excitement. After all, if you’re already standing, what do you do? Start jumping up and down??
I discussed this topic with my old friend, Hal Smith, and he had some great perspectives to share.
Hal Smith: Banu Gibson’s husband Buzzy heard Bob Scobey’s band when they played in Chicago in the 1950s. He described it as a “‘stand-up’ Dixieland band.” All the San Francisco bands stood: Watters, Turk, Scobey, Bay City, the Mielke and Oxtot bands, the FH5+2, and later in Southern California, El Dorado and South Frisco. Last year in Sedalia [at the Scott Joplin Ragtime Festival], I had my San Francisco Jazz All-Stars play standing up: It infused the performances with so much more energy!
Jeff Barnhart: Same in Connecticut: The Galvanized Jazz Band, The New Black Eagles, The Salty Dogs when they played back East: they all had standing front-lines, and they were playing 3-4 hour gigs! I know in NYC Woody Allen’s band always sat, emulating the George Lewis-era New Orleans style bands. It’s interesting that when one sees a photo of Eddie’s Condon band playing in one of his clubs, everyone is invariably sitting down, but as soon as they took the Town Hall (or any other) stage, they were standing.
HS: Condon’s band sat down when they played at Earthquake McGoon’s one time and they were not invited to return for that very reason!
JB: It’s revealing to go back to the earliest days of band photos in and around New Orleans to see who’s doing what, depending on the type of band and the location they’re playing in. In the 1920 photo of Buddy Petit’s band, everyone is standing in a country road except drummer Eddie “Face O” Woods, and banjoist Buddy Manaday. Now, you might say, “Well, why bring chairs out into the road?” but I think they were indicating they were a “standing” band. Compare that with the early photo from 1906 of Edward “Kid” Ory and his band, and they’re all sitting (except the bass player) in chairs…in a field!
Thing is, I see it as a mark of respect to the music and the audience if the front line stands during a set or concert, or casual do. It signifies putting on a presentation: a show! Unless a band is playing arrangements or the members are advanced in age or in some way infirm, I say “Stand Up!”
HS: I really don’t like to see young musicians sitting to play, unless it’s a concert with heavy reading involved, such as we see with Chicago Cellar Boys and Graystone Monarchs.
JB: I’m with you, Brother! It can’t be that they’re lazy or out-of-shape (in most cases neither is true). It’s definitely a conscious decision agreed upon beforehand. For me it’s counter-intuitive: No horn player plays as well sitting as they do standing. The human bellows aren’t meant to struggle in that position!
One of the best groups of “part-timers” was the Nightblooming Jazzmen. Run by Muggsy Spanier-styled cornetist Chet Jaeger, they were a “show” band, but could play some solid trad jazz. Chet reluctantly made the decision that himself and his front line would sit to play—as of his 90th birthday! Hal, many thanks for joining in here, and I’m looking forward to your return to Ain’t’cha Got Music in the August issue!
So. there you have it, folks. Is a band featuring a sitting front-line making that choice because it’s seen as more traditional? Are they tired? Is the gig long? Are they maintaining an aura of casualness so as to be more inviting to listeners/dancers? Are they intimating, “This is my job. You sit at your job, don’t you?” Is it a gambit to seem more artful or thoughtful? Is the front line silently protesting that the banjoist/guitarist, pianist and drummer always get to sit (to which any of those sitting musos might comment, “Well, we’re constantly playing during the sessions; all you lot play, at most, a mere third of the time!”)?
Conversely, is a band sporting a standing front-line simply doing so because that’s what they grew up experiencing? Do they want a better view of the crowd to see who to hit on during the break? Are they hoping to be in the position to sprint off the stage after the last tune of the set to reach the bar before anyone else? Do they feel their air-support is stronger standing? Do they think about this at all?
HS: (leaping back into the narrative) I believe Chris Tyle was the person who told me that an older musician told HIM that the reason New Orleans bands sat was so that the horns would be able to hear the rhythm section better.
JB: Now that makes sense, Hal! Thank you!
Logic aside, for me it’d be a fascinating study to see a band play a set each in both set-ups on a single gig. Would they sound different? Would they behave differently? Would the musicians interact in a different way with one another and the audience? Could I get a grant to facilitate this crucial query? Recently, large sums of money have been given to studies I find far less useful, such as $856,000 to study shrimps’ ability to walk on treadmills, $387,000 to give Swedish massages to rabbits, and $65,473 to discover what bugs do by lights.
Wait, I’ve got it! I’ll look for funding to have bands play on treadmills, while receiving Swedish massages as people shine lights in their faces!
P.S. I’d like credit for my restraint in not including in my list above of actual (though pointless) grants one that provided $592,527 to ascertain why chimpanzees throw their feces. I believe the bands on those treadmills would be grateful as well. Only time (and money) will tell.
Jeff Barnhart is an internationally renowned pianist, vocalist, arranger, bandleader, recording artist, ASCAP composer, educator and entertainer. Visit him online atwww.jeffbarnhart.com. Email: Mysticrag@aol.com
