Word: sweetness
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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When the younger jazzmen did away with Dixieland and big-band swing and dove into the cool depths of bop and progressive jazz, they also left behind the sweet, lucid sound of the clarinet. Once known as an ill woodwind that nobody blows good, this relatively new instrument suddenly struck the U.S. mass ear in the 1920s in the hands of Ted Lewis, who made it wail, and reached peak popularity in the pre-World War II days of Benny Goodman and Artie Shaw, who made it swing. It is still a must in every Dixieland and New Orleans jazz...
Clarinet-playing Bandleader Woody Herman, who has managed to go modern after starting out as a swingster, refuses to admit that the clarinet has lost caste. "Brother, the clarinet still sounds as sweet and ridey as ever," he says. "The big fault lies in the lack of new men. Guys like Goodman, Shaw and myself should lend a hand, but Goodman is too busy sorting his jewelry, Shaw is still having trouble keeping track of his girls, and me, well, I have the problem of trying to keep up with Uncle Whiskers on my tax bill. Sure...
...Matthew J. Connelly had a reputation in Washington for getting things done. Last week in St. Louis, a federal district court jury decided that Matt Connelly had tried to get too many things done: it convicted him of conspiring to fix a tax case. Also convicted was Theron Laniar ("Sweet Thing") Caudle, onetime Assistant Attorney General who shocked Washington in 1951 with his honeysuckle-toned stories of poorly concealed roguery in the Truman Administration...
...sentenced next month, and facing a maximum of five years in prison and a $10,000 fine, T. Lamar Caudle wailed his innocence: "My conscience is so clear and open that when I face God, my sweet children and my friends, I will have no apologies to make for anything I have done." Matt Connelly, the man who could get things done, said nothing...
...music is commonplace. What action there is, however momentarily piquant, soon languishes. Hard though the show tries to be cheerful, philosophy is always breaking in, and no sooner does philosophy take its ease than show business bangs loudly on the door. For all Shirley Yamaguchi's sweet reedy singing, and the libretto's thoughtful and pretty words, Utopia seems freshened up by a touch of vulgar Broadway speed or a bit of Harold Langri-la. Lang and Joan