[Dixielandjazz] Fw: Henry 'Red' Allen with the Alex Welsh Band

[Steve Voce]

When over here Pee Wee was booked to appear at the manchester Sports Guild with the clarinettists Archie Semple and Sandy Brown.
Archie in particular had idolised Pee Wee and was distraught when Pee Wee reacted aggressively. Pee Wee wrongly got it into his
head that the other two were trying to show him up.
I've just looked up Jack Swinnerton's history of the Manchester Sports Guild (Jack chose and booked all the musicians) and he had this to say about Pee Wee.
Steve Voce




Just how well Jenks had revived our renowned guest became apparent on the first public night with the Alex Welsh band. Enthusiasts of Pee Wee Russell will
realise that the standards we all knew him by, such as Rose Room, Sugar, and I’ve Found A New Baby, appeared stimulatingly fresh every time, and the whole
of the Welsh band were as astounded by the inventiveness as us humble listeners. I suppose we all make mistakes, but why I neglected Sandy Brown and the
band for the weekend of jazz has often puzzled me In the event, Sandy Brown turned up on his own determined initiative, together with his family, and simply
joined in. Appearing from the crowded room, he played a couple of duets with Pee Wee which somewhat dramatically appeared to leave the pair in genuine awe
of each other. ‘Melody Maker’ carried a short piece by Sandy headed, ‘I played with Pee Wee Russell — and lived and remarking, '.... when swapping choruses
with Pee Wee, I had an uncomfortable sense of identification with the heavy end of the Laurel&  Hardy team. . . perhaps you remember Oliver Hardy’s plaintive
catchphrase —well, here’s another nice mess you've gotten me into — it seemed particularly apposite to the musical situations I found myself in when my bits came round.'

Mention of the ‘Melody Maker’ naturally brings me round to its editor, Jack Hutton. A devoted jazz enthusiast, he managed to make it essential reading under his
too brief editorship. The issue of October 24, 1964, was simply ecstatic in its reviews of Pee Wee Russell at the MSG: ‘From far and wide to honour Pee Wee.. .took
the stand at the Manchester Sports Guild last Saturday... and for hundreds of jazz fans in this country a dream came true. There he was in the flesh.., he was rapturously
received, possibly getting an even bigger welcome than Red Allen. And that one came in roof-lifting proportions:

The following night with the Johnny Armatage Jump Band gave us the well remembered trio Archie Semple, Sandy and Pee Wee playing Pee Wee’s Midnight Blue.
One of the really good occasions in those MSG years, I don’t now recall anything more emotional than that. Was that the only time they ever played together as a
trio of reeds? I think so.

Pee Wee told me later, enjoying an illegal (for him) drink, that he found it quite a challenge to stay on top, despite my assurances that they were devotees anxious
  merely to have the honour of accompaniment and, to quote: ‘Self preservation. There were a hell of a lot of clarinet players around there: Regrettably, all three
have been dead for many years now, making our claim to be presenting these events, whilst there was still time, more genuine than we could have known.

On Sunday evening with the Freddy Randall band, Pee Wee was quite plainly delighted with Bruce Turner’s alto (he usually played much more clarinet with
Randall than he did with his own band), and it seemed to encourage a wider repertoire than many other nights on the tour.

The personal company of Pee Wee Russell was as different from Red Allen’s more consistent temperament as one could imagine. As Jack Hutton observed,’.. .
a blend of shy diffidence, which is completely disarming.. .a conspiratorial wink that could get him into a lot of trouble.. .a fierce belief that he has been playing
worthwhile music for over forty years... His recent illness may have had an adverse affect on his temper, and he could be the very essence of charm. But there
was a somewhat darker side.

The temerity to suggest that he had musical associations with the Chicagoans, for instance, would cause the heavens to come crashing down. I recall one young man
at the Palace Hotel, Southport, an autograph hunter and devoted fan, receiving an earful for this offence, despite him carrying recorded evidence a the contrary.
(In later years, my collection must include about seventy concerts of the Condon men, not many of which are without Pee Wee. Maybe he was thinking of a city,
as opposed to a style?) In an attempt o pacify, Pee Wee threatened to report me to Jenks for his appalling intervention (as my time and efforts were purely
voluntary, that would have been an interesting
confrontation), and yet, only moments later and all forgotten, we would be the best of friends. Probably discussing the music so far over a drink or five.