Skip to main contentWhen legendary jazz composer/bassist/pianist Charles Mingus died 31 years ago, he left his wife, Sue, with very specific instructions. "I want to be cremated. In India," Sue quotes him as saying in her 2002 memoir, Tonight at Noon. "I don't want to be anywhere near America."
Sue Graham Mingus not only delivered on that promise, spreading Charles' ashes in the Ganges River, but exceeded it—she'd go on to dedicate much of her life to spreading his music throughout the world and cementing his reputation as one of the 20th century's great composers. She began by organizing a seven-member memorial group, Mingus Dynasty, to play a tribute concert. By 1999, she'd be in charge of three groups dedicated to Mingus' compositions: Dynsaty, the Mingus Orchestra and the Mingus Big Band.
The 14-piece Mingus Big Band, which will celebrate its 20th anniversary next year, delivers high-energy blues and downtempo ballads alike, with a collection of players that ranges from precise veteran sax player Craig Handy to explosive teenage drummer Justin Faulkner.
Sue Graham Mingus, now well past retirement age, refuses to slow down. In her post as artistic director of the Mingus Big Band, she hires band members, gives musical direction and pays the band for its weekly gig at The Jazz Standard in NYC. In anticipation of the Big Band's visit to Portland, Sue Graham Mingus took time to speak with WW via telephone from New York City.
WW: Why do you do all this? Couldn't you be sipping Bloody Marys on the beach in Florida?
Sue Graham Mingus: No, that's not my style. I would be incapable of relaxing on a beach.... I don't know. I do it today because I did it yesterday and the day before. I'm also writing, I have other things that I do, I have kids and so forth. But for me it's a big plus.
What makes the Mingus Big Band special?
Well, it plays with a lot of verve and energy and excitement. There's a lot of freedom within it, as there is in Charles Mingus' music. A lot of things happen that are off the page, so to speak.
As artistic director, are you as hard on the Mingus Big Band as Charles would be?
If Charles came here, I would be out the window in two seconds. He would say, "What is she doing here?" [laughs]. I think for sure he would be happy, and I don't think he'd be surprised by what's going on because I think he knew his music would live on. But how would he behave? I always tell them, "If Charles were here he'd fire all of you."
Is he getting enough respect, posthumously?
I think so. You know, there's been a sea change since Charles died. The music used to seem unapproachable; a lot of musicians were not playing Mingus' music the way they were playing Duke Ellington. I don't think people wanted to play it because they thought it was his turf. Now he's not here, but this huge, sprawling legacy is here.
Charles' songs have been sampled by a lot of hip-hop producers. What would he think of that?
I think he'd be delighted, you know. He would encourage it, I'm sure. [But] I never understood why people would pay to take one figure and repeat it over and over. I always say to them, "Do it yourself; why would you want to pay royalties?"
Do you find yourself using Charles Mingus slang?
No, but I turn into him sometimes. I scream and yell at the musicians.
In the book you talk about Charles complaining about people talking through his sets. Have crowds gotten more respectful?
I think they have. The only person they've told to be quiet at the club is me—to my utter horror and astonishment. Apparently I was speaking loudly, and the manager came over. I've actually never seen him do that to anyone else.
What lessons did you learn from Charles?
Oh God, I learned so much. Well, he would say, "Play yourself." That's probably the first lesson: Be who you are, speak out with your own voice. And certainly when he was dying [of Lou Gehrig's disease], it was a lesson about prevailing over adversity with such grace and courage. He never lashed out at the gods or complained or anything. He was a fighter.
The Mingus Big Band plays Newmark Theatre Friday, Feb. 26. 7:30 pm. $25-$55. All ages.
WWeek 2015
