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ARCH MARTIN:
Kansas City's "Mr. Trombone"
© John Leisenring
Since its inception in 1986, Jazz Ambassador Magazine has made it a point to showcase those Kansas City musicians who are valued contributors to the city's rich jazz tradition. Our cover story this time is about one of the most enduring, talented and significant artists to
grace the KC jazz scene over the last 40 years. Trombonist Arch Martin is not only one of the all-time Kansas City jazz greats, but also the consummate gentleman and the personification of hip. And who better than a fellow trombonist to interview Arch. We think you'll enjoy
John Leisenring's profile of an important figure in recent Kansas City jazz history.
Arch Martin at the 1993 KC Blues & Jazz Festival.
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"Hiring Arch Martin to a permanent position in your band was like the Kansas City Chiefs drafting defensive end Art Still, a perennial all-pro," states long-time Kansas City band leader Warren Durrett in his 1987 autobiography.
"He is one of those beloved, talented, successful pillars of the profession, a natural salesman, and one who can contribute to the long, pleasant life of a band leader."
Arch Martin has indeed been a pillar of the Kansas City jazz scene since the late 1940s, and he remains today what he has always been -- Mr. Trombone. Often unsung, occasionally taken for granted, but never musically disappointing, Arch is, and has been for decades, the
consummate professional, and everybody's first choice among Kansas City's many fine trombonists.
Arch's career has spanned almost fifty years and has taken him from Kansas City strip joints and late night sessions at the Half-A-Hill Club on east Highway 40, to unforgettable collaborations with trumpeter Clark Terry, a European tour with Claude Thornhill, and a year on
the road with Woody Herman. And, not only is Arch a walking encyclopedia of Kansas City's jazz history from the late forties on, but he may be the only KC jazz great who almost killed Harry Truman, who, at the time, was still the sitting President of the United States (more
on that later).
Born and raised in Independence, Missouri, then a town of less than fifteen thousand, Arch Martin graduated from William Chrisman High School in 1949. From the start, Arch wanted to play bebop, and his informal education had begun several years earlier, when, at the age of
fifteen, he started playing in the strip joints of downtown Kansas City. Arch carried, in his pocket, a notarized letter from his parents stating that it was okay with them that he (then decidedly under age) was working in such a questionable environment.
"They knew how badly I wanted to play," says Arch. "Each night the strippers would grind away right in my face, trying to embarrass me while amusing the laughing patrons...at my expense. But I was playing my horn, and I wouldn't have quit for anything."
Drummer John Tirrabasso, known to most jazz fans as John Terry, noticed Arch sitting in one night with guitarist Lucky Enios' blues band at the Half-A-Hill Club, liked what he heard, and took Arch under his wing. It was Terry who got Arch a union card and a job at the New
Orleans Room owned and operated by Dave Beaman. Beaman owned a series of clubs, one of which was the 39 Club, just east of Main on the north side of 39th. When he wanted to open with a new band there, he asked Arch to join a six piece group along with drummer Freddie Finch
and saxophonist Russ Godbey. From the beginning the place was packed six nights a week. Although some straight ahead things were played, it was a band that played mostly Dixieland. It was not unusual for the group to play "When The Saints Go Marching In," file out the front
door, in the back door, up and on the bar, in and out among the seated patrons.
When drummer and leader Finch died, Beaman ruled that the band could stay, but only if Arch took over (he being the only band member at the time who didn't drink). The band -- and the 39 Club -- continued to enjoy tremendous business.
This period found Arch playing six nights a week, nine to one at the 39 Club, and then "out in the county" at a club called Ducey's from two until six. Like it was for so many jazz musicians at the time, the downtown club gigs, while not devoid of musical growth, paid Arch's
bills; but it was the after-hours sessions that provided the immeasurably valuable education that pushed many talented young musicians, including Arch, to the top of their abilities as improvisers.
There was an abundance of clubs and great musicians in Kansas City in the early 1950s. Downtown clubs included the Orchid Room on 12th street, the Playboy Club (so named long before Hugh Hefner ever published a magazine of the same name), and The Club D'Lisa on 12th street.
There was the Mardi Gras at 19th and Vine, the Blue Room at 18th and Vine, and the Boulevard Room at 12th and the Paseo. Out on Blue Ridge there was the Playhouse (where Charlie Parker worked from time to time), and a number of other jazz joints on east 40 Highway -- from the
Heart Drive-In east to Noland Road -- among which were Tootie's Mayfair (run by "Tootie" Clarkin), Scotty's, the Paradise Club, and Ducey's on the corner of Highway 40 and Noland Road.
Among the musicians of the day, guitarist Frank Mooney and bassist Roy Wilcox were often found in bands working these rooms. And there was Jimmy Keith (a saxophonist who, according to Arch, looked like and played in the style of Lester Young) who led a popular Kansas City
band for many years. His bands often included Martin on trombone, Jimmy Lovelace or Corky Brown on drums, Cleofus Berry on bass, George Salisbury on piano, and singer Irene McClarin.
"Keith's bands were strictly dance bands," says Arch. "But many of the charts were straight ahead things with lots of room for blowing. Jimmy's was a class act; and if you were on his band, you behaved yourself, dressed properly, and kept your nose clean."
In 1956, Arch Martin made a record (Kansas City Jazz -- The Arch Martin Quintet) with tenor man Dick Busey and a rhythm section of Jay Shore (piano), Dave Rizer (bass) and John Terry (drums). Arch was 25 years old and had already been on the Kansas City jazz scene for the
better part of ten years. Like most of the younger musicians in those days, however, Arch wanted to make the move to New York. He'd played briefly with another Kansas City great and fellow trombonist, Bobby Brookmeyer, in the late '40s (with Warren Durrett's band) and this
association would eventually pay off. As musical director for The Bonnie Sisters -- an act Arch had met while playing the dance pavilion at Wildwood Lakes in Raytown -- he finally did make it to New York. The Bonnie Sisters had won an Arthur Godfrey talent show, and when
their entourage arrived in the Big Apple, Arch stayed on and tried to make a living playing jazz.
Arch Martin at the Warren Durrett Band Reunion in Oct. 1995
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While in New York, it was Brookmeyer and a drummer from Kansas City named Winston "Wimpy" Welsh who got Arch an audition and an eventual job with Claude Thornhill. Jimmy Knepper was the other trombone player on the band,
Gene Quill and Max Robinson were on saxes, and many of the now-famous Thornhill charts were written by Gerry Mulligan. As soon as Arch was on board, the band left immediately for a European tour that was to last 7 to 8 weeks; but, because of major transportation hassles, it
became 12.
"It was a tour that represented the best and the worst of the music business," says Arch. "Greedy managers, transportation nightmares, personality conflicts; it all wore thin pretty quickly."
The tour ended, Arch gave notice, and soon he found himself in Tulsa, at The Club Royale, in a band led by Eddie Baker. Late one night, in the summer of 1957, the phone rang and Jay Migliori, who was playing tenor sax with Woody Herman's band, informed Arch of an open second
trombone chair in the current Herman Herd...the seat next to Arch's idol, Bill Harris. Arch met up with the band back at Wildwood Lakes in Raytown, auditioned ("the stage was too dark, I couldn't see the music, I thought my audition was a disaster..."), got the job, and sat
next to Harris for most of the next year.
The musical experiences in the Woody Herman band were wonderful, says Arch, what with the associations with greats like Harris, Bobby Lamb, Cy Tough, Al Beletto, Jimmy Guinn and Willie Thomas. But by the eleventh month on the road, the constant travel was taking its toll. All
trips were by car, the band averaged four hotel stops for every seven days, and during one 41 day period, there were no nights off. Walking the streets of Washington D.C. one afternoon, Arch confided in saxophonist Roger Pemberton that he was simply too tired to continue.
Taking Pemberton's advice, Arch gave Woody his notice later that same day.
Arch did stay with the Herman band long enough to make a final week-long engagement at The Blue Note, a Chicago landmark that would close for good in March of 1958. Herman's band was the last to be booked and there was a sense of history in the air. According to Arch, the
band roared, and to top it all off, he got to meet Chan Parker, wife of the recently deceased Charlie Parker and a waitress at the club. After that final engagement, Arch came home to Kansas City, bone weary of the road, never to go back out full time with another band. The
days of "cut or no notice" were over.
"(Arch) is one of those beloved, talented, successful pillars of the profession, a natural salesman, and one who can contribute to the long, pleasant life of a band leader." -- Warren Durrett
Again working at the Paradise Club with Jimmy Keith, Arch, by day, was pumping gas for a buck an hour when saxophonist Jess Cole invited him to work at his band instrument store in Raytown. It was this association -- with one of Arch's most valued friends (Cole died in 1975)
-- that would lead to a myriad of jobs related to the school band business including Jenkins Music in Kansas City, Stanbury Band Uniforms in Brookfield, Missouri, and Conn Musical Instruments. Today Arch is a district sales manager for United Musical Instruments,
manufacturers of Conn, King and Benge, and he works the road for the company in Missouri, Iowa and Wisconsin.
In 1961 Arch became the permanent lead trombonist with the Warren Durrett Orchestra, and has since worked the casual circuit with just about anybody you could name. He has played many a jazz festival, most notably ones in Corpus Christi, Texas (once again with Clark Terry),
and, of course, the old Kansas City Jazz Festivals at Municipal Auditorium. He has been the educational vice president of Kansas City Jazz, Inc., and in 1960, he judged the first stage band festival ever held in Missouri, one of many adjudication invitations Arch would
receive over the next 30 years. To this day, he remains active in jazz education, and very interested in students of jazz at all levels.
In 1976 the Missouri chapter of what was then the National Association of Jazz Educators (NAJE) made Arch the first recipient of the "Jess Cole Award," named in honor of Arch's recently deceased friend. This award is presented annually to persons who have made outstanding
contributions to jazz education in Missouri, and its conferral is an honor of which Arch is most proud. He is now the sponsor of that award to insure that other outstanding educators can be so honored.
Today, Arch lives in Overland Park with his wife Sally, and his four children, all grown, live in California. He considers himself extremely fortunate to be healthy, to have had the wonderful associations he has enjoyed, and to have seen the world of jazz from so many lofty
peaks. While fortune has been kind to Arch Martin, his skills, still formidable in the 1990s, far outweigh luck as he re-earns the title of Mr. Trombone with great regularity.
Oh, and about that incident involving Mr. Truman...
"The president," remembers Arch, "lived only a few blocks from our house, and once when he was in Independence he went on one of his famous morning strolls. I was late for school that day and was bustin' down the road in my old '33 Chevy when I saw a pedestrian in a crosswalk
up ahead. I slammed on the brakes...and the pedal went clear to the floor! No brakes!
"Of course, I panicked, and when I realized it was President Truman, I really panicked. I had plenty of room, and as I went by -- my face white as a sheet -- the president just broke up. He stood there and just died laughing. My last memory of the whole thing was the sight,
in my rear view mirror, of several secret service guys running after me."
It's safe to say that jazz buffs have been chasing Arch Martin ever since.
Get a plaque polished up for the Jazz Hall of Fame.
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© Kansas City Jazz Ambassadors 1996-2007. All rights reserved..
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