Sunday, December 18, 2005

John Norment remembered

John Norment 
(photo by Roscoe Crenshaw/St. Louis American)
I'm sorry to have to report that St. Louis jazz saxophonist and composer John Norment has passed away at the age of 63. He died Tuesday, December 6 after a battle with cancer, and funeral services were held on Tuesday, December 13 before he was buried at Laurel Hill Memorial Gardens.

The Post-Dispatch ran a brief death notice, including a so-far-unused guestbook for memories at Legacy.com, while the American had a very nice article on the funeral by Roscoe Crenshaw that included quotes from a number of musicians who knew John. A small sampling:
Saxophonist and composer Oliver Lake, who flew in from New York, explained, “John was one of my first teachers. He helped me to get started on the instrument. We were neighbors. I definitely wanted to get here and see him off. He’ll be missed.”...Drummer Jerome “Scrooge” Harris called Norment “a friend for 40 years. Excellent writer, composer and performer. Loved him dearly - like a brother.” Another buddy, trumpeter Floyd LeFlore, remarked, “The saxophone was an extension of his soul. He played for God and you and you and you, ‘cause music was his life.”
As mentioned earlier, though I was not a close friend or frequent musical associate, I did have the opportunity to work with John Norment a few times during the Nineties as both a musician (in the short-lived group Open End) and as a producer of several live events that included John or one of his groups. My thoughts about his musicianship are still best summed up by a brief item I wrote (unbylined) about him for the Riverfront Times on the occasional of his being named "Best Jazz Artist" in the 2003 "Best of St. Louis" issue:
Some jazz musicians stay inside, expertly navigating the changes while inventing fresh new melodies on the spot. Others go outside, discarding the boundaries of harmony and stretching music into pure sound with a restless yearning to grab the whole world and channel it through a horn. One of the things that makes saxophonist-composer John Norment distinctive is his ability to do both -- to play both inside and outside, sometimes even in the same solo, and yet have it all make perfect sense. A skinny man of average height with a frizzy mop of gray hair, Norment looks and talks like a mild-mannered individual -- until he picks up his horn and reveals himself to be part deep thinker, part slapstick comedian and all master musician. Equally adept on alto, tenor and soprano saxophones, Norment has a unique musical mind teeming with intriguing ideas, as well as the experience and technique to realize those ideas in a most satisfying manner.
In addition to being an excellent musician, John was a fine person and always interesting and fun to be around. It's a shame he had to leave this plane of existence after a relatively short time, but he left many great memories of his music and his humanity. As Oliver Lake said so simply, he will be missed.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I didn't know John personally, but you would never have known that by watching him.

I was a fan of the John Norment Trio, and would frequently take dates to see him whenever he played at Brant's or Riddles, and whenever I would say "Hi." to John - he never failed to recognize me as someone who came to see him frequently.

He had that too-cool Jazz Musicians smile, and he'd come over and scootch into the booth or sit down at the table for a minute or two and chat as if we were old friends catching up.

Often he would openly compliment me on my taste in gals - in appreciative words that would make my lady friends blush - and score me huge "Date Points" with them.

There were many nights when my date would say something to the effect of "I didn't know you were friends with the band!".

I wasn't of course. I was only a fan - but I'm not sure John knew the difference. I think he counted all of his fans as friends.

Anonymous said...

I am sorry to stumble onto this sad information so many years on. John and I were musical colleagues in the 80s as well as extremely sympathetic friends. I am profoundly saddened.