As mentioned in a recent Syncopated Times article about keyboardist Dick Hyman, jazz duet recordings can be the hardest things for two players to bring off owing to the need for the two musicians to support and instantly respond to each other, plus the fact that the slightest error can be the equivalent of a blaring klaxon, thus degrading the performance. A prime example of the first occurring wonderfully and the second not happening at all is the album Fireworks by cornetist Ruby Braff and Dick Hyman, which was not mentioned in my prior Hyman article (“97 Years of Jazz: Happy Birthday, Dick Hyman!” TST, March 2024).
Recorded in concert at New York’s New School For Social Research, neither Hyman nor Braff were aware that their efforts would result in an album. All of the performances were completely extemporaneous, with only the title and starting key of the tunes known beforehand. Five of the eight compositions performed were George Gershwin tunes. Both of the players were brilliant LISTENING improvisers, creating their jazz variations with supreme technique and imagination, without stepping on the other. Most of their creations could be stylistically termed “accessible mainstream jazz” minus be-bop allusions. In contrast, “High Society” is a romping masterpiece highlighting Hyman’s shouting stride and Braff’s revealing his admiration for Louis Armstrong’s emotio
