Caravan remains one of the defining jazz standards and has a remarkable history
First recorded in 1936 and becoming one of the best-known songs by Duke Ellington’s band, it originated with the trombonist Juan Tizol.
Among his contributions to the band was a role copying parts from scores, as well as composing.
Tizol often played a valve trombone and, as a Puerto Rican, brought some of that Latin American influence which can be heard in 20th Century jazz.
Mercer Ellington said the melody to ‘Caravan’ was suggested to Tizol through a technique called “inverting” that re-interpreted scores by reading the sheet music upside-down.
It remains one of the most-covered songs in history with over 500 versions published.
My favourite is possibly one of the most controversial.
The bassist Charles Mingus was also a member of the Ellington band and unleashed a version of the song during the fiery recordings for the “Money Jungle” album.
Mingus plays a rhythm part high up the neck that seems to force Ellington into the position of playing the melody in lower octaves.
It’s wild how the conventions of the standard ‘Caravan’ are thrown by Mingus taking the lead.
When I first heard it my mind was blown.
It turns out that Mingus left Ellington’s band after Tizol lunged at him with a knife for the bassist’s playing of ‘Caravan’:
“…this is the band you don’t quit, but this time you’re asked to leave because of an incident with a trombone player and arranger named Juan Tizol. Tizol wants you to play a solo he’s written where bowing is required. You raise the solo an octave, where the bass isn’t too muddy. He doesn’t like that and he comes to the room under the stage where you’re practising at intermission and comments that you’re like the rest of the n****** in the band, you can’t read. You ask Juan how he’s different from the other n****** and he states that one of the ways he’s different is that HE IS WHITE. So you run his ass upstairs. You leave the rehearsal room, proceed toward the stage with your bass and take your place and at the moment Duke Ellington brings down the baton for ‘A-Train’ and the curtain of the Apollo Theatre goes up, a yelling, whooping Tizol rushes out and lunges at you with a bolo knife.”
The following passage where Mingus describes how Ellington asks for his resignation has been seen as documenting his considerable charm.
