Last weekend Terry Teachout devoted his Saturday Wall Street Journal column to a consideration of Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughan. Teachout disussed his deep enjoyment of Billie Holiday's work by contrast with that of Ella and Sarah. I quoted at length from Teachout's column and expressed my disagreement in "Billie, Ella or Sarah?" I invited readers with thoughts on Teachout's column to send us a message. The messages rolled in over the next several days -- thoughtful, impassioned, knowledgeable, interesting. Who could ask for anything more?

Among them were two that I know were from working musicians (Tom Spaulding and Joe Vass) and one from a self-identified horn player (Brian Adams). Almost everyone who wrote had something of interest to say. In the continuation of this post, I simply quote the messages verbatim after the name of the author. Sincere thanks to all who wrote, and to Terry Teachout -- a guy who must be the best working critic in the country -- for provoking my post. Teachout is the regular theater critic for the Journal and the regular music critic for Commentary; he blogs at About Last Night.

Here we go...listen up!

Dr. Stephen Marmer:

I'm a big fan of Ella Fitzgerald too. I've always considered her the best female non-opera singer ever. Her pitch was flawless; her rhythmic sense superb; her enthusiasm infectious. I respect Terry Teachout very much and always find his insights rewarding. I would never disparage Billie Holiday. But I still think Ella is tops.

One brief story about her character. In college I was a member of the University of California Men's Glee Club, then a true "Ivy League Style" singing group that was separate from the music department. Every year on the Thursday prior to the Christmas break we would go into San Francisco and tape a Christmas TV show. Following the show we would go from store to store and hotel to hotel serenading passers-by with Christmas and Chanukah songs. We learned that Ella always played the Venetian Room of the Fairmont Hotel that season. We managed to find out when she would emerge from her room and which elevator she would take to her performance. We lined the hallway and when she got out of the elevator we began to sing to her. She was thrilled and invited our entire group to see her show as her guests. We even got to go to the front of the room to sing three numbers with her. What a great lady!

When it comes to male singers the choices are both larger and more difficult. Nat King Cole has always been my top choice. But how can anyone ignore Tony Bennett, Fred Astaire (whose voice was idiosyncratic but whose musicality was peerless), Bing Crosby, and yes, Frank Sinatra.

Yet for me the absolutely finest non-classical musician of the twentieth century, both for sheer ability and for his impact on music itself, was Louis Armstrong. One can argue among Caruso, Chaliapin, and Callas as the most important opera stars, Toscannini or Furtwaengler as the most important conductors, Heifitz, Kreisler, or Oistrach as the greatest violinist, Rubenstein or Horowitz as the preeminent pianist. But in the popular realm my votes go to Ella, Nat, and Satchmo.

P.S. With the encouragement and urging of Hugh Hewitt, I will be starting my own modest blog in a few weeks. I'll keep you posted.

Thomas Grahame:

A quick comment on these great singers.

I had always thought of Ella Fitzgerald, from seeing her in the early 1960s, to whenever I heard her, as a singer with a great voice but one who didn't really appeal that much, because the music was no more than upbeat popular jazz with lyrics that didn't amount to much. In retrospect, the lyrics weren't interesting enough to try to find real meaning to express. And there was better music for dancing, so I never really listened to her much.

In contrast, Billie Holiday always had lyrics worthy of finding ways to identify with and express, and many of her songs were the opposite of pop jazz, you really couldn't dance to them. But if I wanted to hear something soulful, Billie would be near the top of the list. (Ray Charles' music of the 1950s, the Atlantic years, was the music that expressed soulfulness the most for me at the time, partly because it was so searing as expressed by his voice, and partly because a lot of it was upbeat, and I was in my early teens at the time.)

So it was much later that I discovered how wonderfully expressive Ella could be, how she could make a lyric hers, make a great singing performance sound almost like she was talking to you. It just had to
do with her material. I highly recommend you listen to "Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most" and "Lush Life."

P.S. About Sarah Vaughn: I agree that despite her great voice, she doesn't really express lyrics in an interesting way. I bought a couple of her CDs after watching Ken Burns' Jazz series, but don't play them. The only song of hers I really enjoy, but I enjoy it a very great deal, is "Broken Hearted Melody." Her version of "Lullaby of Birdland" is good, but so is most everyone else's, it's just a great song.

Joe Vass:

No, not Billie Holiday--who squawked a miserable impersonation of a singer. (I acknowledge I'm a heretic on this one). She never gave any sign she understood the actual music of the songs she sang. She just knocked off Louis Armstrong's mannerisms without any touch of his genius, including his ability to get inside the song and then elevate it.

No also to Sarah, who indulged the egoistic fallacy that flourished during the "bebop" era and still infects jazz playing to this day. A true musician understands that music is not about the performer and her tricks. She was the true forerunner of all the American Idol wailers and National Anthem wreckers whose sheer awfulness requires that I clap my hands over my ears even in public (thus making me embarrass my wife yet again).

Yes to Ella Fitzgerald, who sings the song so beautifully we naturally recognize the beauty of the singer as well. She doesn't have to work to be noticed; she gives no sign she cares about that. She glories in the music, and that becomes her glory.

(While we're on the subject, Terry Teachout also fails to understand Ira Gershwin's lyrics and the ways they served the songs to which they were so integral.)

Terry Teachout does good work in general; that's why it's so surprising how often he's wrong on the particulars.

Elizabeth Duran:

I read with interest the posts on three of my favorite female jazz artists. There is no doubt in my mind but that the crown belongs to Ella. I think it's interesting that music critics can downplay Ella's body of work while her singing colleagues can't speak highly enough of her (Sinatra, Torme, Bennett, and so on rate her the very best, as I'm sure you know). As for myself, I always believed that since Ella made happy art, as opposed to the tortured drama of Billie or the operatic virtuosity of Sarah, she was just too accessible to be counted on their level. (I guess my cynicism is showing.)

Contrast those happy Ella sounds though with the often tragic events of her life and listeners might rate her skills higher. It could actually have been easier to sing the blues rather than the generally optimistic Great American Song Book. Or maybe we fans like Ella so much because of the three, she's the easiest to sing along to. Deceptively so. Ever notice there are no real Ella imitators?

There have been times in my life when Billie's slow, dark and rough style really spoke to me and others when Sarah's fancy flights thrilled me, but I always come back to Ella. Is that what makes it art?

Janet Beihoffer:

After reading your post on Ella and company, then the posting today I thought I’d share a few points:

1 – Regarding Mr. Cage: I have perfect pitch, obviously since I was a kid (it’s a gift). In my prime, I could hear something once or twice and sit down at a piano and play it – easier to do with Broadway, pop, C & W, etc. than classical but even with some classical music. Even today, sometimes I can do it but as with many things, my memory is best for what happened in my prime years. For the record, I also can read music.

2 – Having said that, I totally disagree with Mr. Cage’s statement that implies if someone cannot listen to his atonal music, they’re limited, etc. Atonal music drives me up a wall – it’s just like scratching fingernails on the old black chalkboards; I literally have to leave if it gets too bad. To me atonal music is just an excuse for music just as modern “art” is an excuse for art. It doesn’t fly. My ear cannot take it. It affects my nervous system, etc.

3 – As for music therapy. I have no degree in music but during Christmas season and sometimes other times of the year, I go to nursing homes and play piano. Unequivocally it is an upper for seniors. I’ve played ‘30’s and ‘40’s popular songs to Alzheimer’s patients and it "gets through." Patriotic songs around the Fourth of July are a big hit. I don’t do it often, but when I do, the tapping of hands and feet in wheelchairs, smiles, some singing are things that warm one’s heart.

You must have one heck of a memory to keep all this music stuff in your head. It is truly impressive. I wish my artist memory were half as good as yours.

Thomas Walsh:

My youngest brother used to decorate Ella's Christmas tree for about the last 10 years of her life. He was a big fan, to say the least. He even quoted my sugestions to her about just walking for exercise when she was having circulation problems. Kind of interesting to be one step away from a great. She had many hangers-on who would not tell her the truth about anything. He gave me the impression that she was a sweetie, but rather simple.

He told me that Sarah Vaughan used to go over her grocery list while
singing, to give an example of how disinterested she was in her music... Just thought you'd like to know.

Daniel Aronstein:

Shirley Horn - Miles Davis thought she was the best. That's good enough for me. And she played a mean piano too.

Tony Groble:

You show once again that you could easily have a Power Line Music blog.

About 8 weeks ago I compiled an i-Tunes playlist of roughly 800 versionsof ~60 "standards" (from a library of 100s of CDs). I did this for a couple reasons, but the primary one was to help me answer the question that the WSJ addresses: Why is it that I've always felt Billie Holiday (Verve recordings)and Fred Astaire are way better singers than Ella or Sarah, even though they didn't have the same technical gifts?

I'll find time tonight to send my details on this, but I'll leave you with a sidebar thought from my active listening of these standards:

Rosemary Clooney, in her Concord sessions, is an incredible interpreter of the Great American Songbook. I'd argue that she should be viewed in the same way as Billie, Ella and Sarah (and, to my ears, ahead of Ella or Sarah).

Colin Lindsey:

Finally, something we can agree on...

As I write, Ella's version of "Blues in the Night" is playing on my local (SF Bay Area) jazz station, KCSM.

Well, I always considered Billie, Ella and Sarah as the Big Three of jazz female vocalists, with Dinah Washington and maybe Ernestine Anderson in the next tier. Like Scott, I started listening to Ella in the mid-70's, when I was in middle and high school. As a former singer (sang in choir and jazz band during my prep school days), although not formally trained, Ella, in my opinion, had (and still has) the best voice of the three. Her tone, intonation and phrasing were incomparable. Teachout knows a lot about music, but I must disagree that neither she nor Sarah were ever interested with the lyrics. Just listen to "These Foolish Things" with Joe Pass on the "Live at the Newport Jazz Festival" recording, or "Good Morning Heartache" and "Miss Otis Regrets" from the same album. Or countless other performances.

I have all her "Songbook" collections on CD (just picked up the Jerome Kern Songbook a couple of weeks ago), and a lot of the Pablo recordings she made with Joe Pass and Oscar Peterson. I started listening to her when her voice was much more burnished and her vibrato thicker, and then worked my way backwards, ultimately, to the songbooks recordings. Ella was not formally trained (unlike Sarah Vaughan, who I understand was a pretty accomplished pianist), but she had an impeccable sense of rhythm and timing.

I love Sarah, too, but I prefer Ella's voice over hers. While Sarah can impress with her vocal range, Ella's voice just sounds so much purer, smoother. True story: I first saw Ella on the "Tonight Show" when Johnny Carson was the host. This had to be in either 1974 or 1975. Anyway, I had heard of her, but never heard her sing nor had ever listened to her recordings. I remember she came out, and I was surprised she was black (I was 12 or 13 at the time, and grew up in Honolulu, HI). I thought with a name like "Fitzgerald" she was definitely white, or Jewish (hey, I was young, ok?). Anyway, she was wearing this yellow gown, and she was…how can you say this...very matronly. With thick glasses to boot. Then Doc gave the downbeat, she started singing (I think it was "Sweet Georgia Brown") and that was it; I was in love. Her voice was so smooth. In fact, the word I use to describe her voice is "vanilla." You know how smooth vanilla is? That's Ella's voice...vanilla. Just so silky smooth.

Anyway, I digress.

I understand what Teachout is saying about Billie. And she did get into her songs, and infuse them with a certain poignancy ("God Bless the Child" and "Strange Fruit" immediately come to mind). And Jimmy Rowles's comment - hey, he was Lady Day's pianist for a ton of years; of course I'd expect him to be biased. I also understand what Teachout said about Sarah. Sometimes her songs seem to be an exercise in how she can use her voice as an instrument. But Ella? Easily the best of the three, in my opinion.

I'm with Scott on this - Ella is The One!

Pete Leavitt:

This is my first formal response to PL, but your piece on Ella, Billie and Sarah struck a chord (a triad to be exact).

I have had a lifelong interest in "Popular Music" and especially the more conservative period (pre modern-jazz), and with particular interest to the importance of and the relationship between the tune and the lyrics. It goes without saying that what passes for music today has no lyrical quality, but I'm insufficiently schooled on how one defines rap and hip-hop as music to make an intelligent comment.

My credentials are that I have been familiar on a personal level with many of the popular song teams from the 20's, 30's and 40's, but I guess my only claim to fame is a vicarious one...my father actually was the person who introduced Richard Rodgers to Larry Hart. Popular music was part of my upbringing.

So let's cut to the chase. I think than anyone who considers Ella Fitzgerald unfaithful to the quality and meaning of the lyrics, simply hasn't paid attention to her overall understanding of the piece and her superior ability to express these virtues through the style of her performances. Gifted with the physical capabilities of producing and generating notes and intonations flawlessly, with a warm and liquid tonal quality, especially in her middle years (in the 40's to 60's), she never betrayed them. (Sinatra, who had no peer in the interpretation of lyrics once said that he always wished he had Vic Damones' "pipes.") The diction and clarity of her vocalizing reduces Sarah's self-serving elisions to expressions of mere puffery designed to inform the listener that she's taking charge rather than to present the song to the audience the way the composer and lyricist intended. This does not mean that the artist can't or shouldn't improvise, but in so doing it should advance the interpretation of the number rather than to merely label it as one's own. Billie, while she still had her voice, also displayed a strong appreciation for the lyrics and was far superior to Sarah in this regard, but I don't think quite up to Ella.

In the first half of the 20th Century, the job of the performer was to sell the songs he was singing to an audience that would then be encouraged to go out and buy the sheet music or the 78rpm records. Things evolved (in my opinion for the worst) in the latter half of the Century when the emphasis shifted totally, and the song instead of being the object, became the vehicle for the performer to sell him or herself. The genius of the composer was rendered ancillary to the promotion of the "artist." Little wonder that by the end of the Century lyrics fell by the wayside (at least outside of the Broadway Theater).

Getting back to Ella: she was also very true to the grammar of the lyrics she sang. The great lyricists were fastidious in being grammatically correct. One song I often use as a measure of whether the artist understands the grammar or not is in the chorus of the Rodgers and Hart piece, "Little Girl Blue." The line: "All you can count on is the raindrops...". To most people, the use of "is" is jarring and many singers replace it with "are." "Is" is grammatically correct (or at least used to be when people cared about such things) and that's the way Ella sings it.

I could go on, but I don't want to waste your time with my rants. Your site is now in my number one slot, principally because of your well constructed political commentary, but also because of flights afield like the piece I've been commenting on.

Tim Wictor:

I think it's an enjoyable but hopeless task to choose among the three incredible singers, so how about all three?

For Teachout to claim that Vaughan and Fitzgerald show little connection to the lyrics they sang is bizarre: did he listen to the Fitzgerald 1960s version of "Something to Live For," or Vaughan's "Benny Carter Sessions" album? There's no Streisand-style drama (much as she makes me swoon as a singer), but far more on view from both Ella and Sarah than mere vocal gymnastics, or just an abstract platform off of which to leap into prefabricated improvisation.

Holiday, by contrast, was forced by her more modest vocal endowment to work within a smaller palette of volume, range, and timbre. Making the most of what she had, Billie squeezed every bit of meaning from the lyrics, and more importantly as a jazz singer, she possessed an extraordinary sense of time. She could bounce brightly on the beat, a la Fitzgerald, or hang back languidly, sometimes excruciatingly so, adding to the feeling of suspense she could generate. Like all great lyric interpreters--Sinatra, Peggy Lee, Nat Cole are others--one somehow feels the singer is speaking conversationally and directly to the listener in an individual tone of voice. The listener deeply knows something about the artist, or the illusion thereof.

In the end, there are many ways to "be inside a song." Singers with greater vocal horsepower, or with melodic creativity to burn, simply must use everything they have when they work. And the ones not gifted by nature sometimes find an ability to force the listener to hang on every word. Mabel Mercer monotonically spoke her songs in the end, and Cleo Laine in her prime could out-sommersault Vaughan and Fitzgerald with ease. But who is the greater artist? I love them
all, and have the sagging shelves of LPs and CDs to prove it.

Edward Wagner:

I admire Teachout's taste and knowledge, but to say that Vaughan and Fitzgerald were completely disregarding of the lyrics is, well, ludicrous.

My listening experience is so thin...well, try Sarah's rendition of "Speak Low" -- music by Kurt Weill, words by Ogden Nash. The recording I have is from 1958 and is done live from "London House," Chicago. I have it on a Verve CD called "The Essential Sarah Vaughan."

Jon Deur:

I confess ignorance on Sarah Vaughn’s music. But I tend to agree with Teachout on his comparison of Billie and Ella. At least I can understand why he would say that Ella didn’t live in the songs the same way Billie did. There was a crystal clear quality to Ella’s voice that almost transcended vocal chords. Remember those "Is it live or is it Memorex" TV ads? Ella was singing scat and then she would hit a high note and break a crystal glass. In my imagination she didn’t break it with volume or power, but with the absolute purity of the note she was singing. It might be that no one with an instrument so pure could inhabit the lyrics of songs about life on this lowdown planet. It might also be that Ella just didn’t have that sex appeal that Billie Holliday had. I remember her wearing those big glasses. Isn’t she kind of like Buddy Holly to Billie Holiday’s Elvis. Still, the way she caressed the words in "How Long Has This Been Goin’ On?" with Ellis Larkins on piano; it’s hard to believe she wasn’t singing that about someone she knew and loved. That has to be one of the best renditions of any song, ever. To tell you the truth, I think that in a way this is an old debate. Don’t we always assume that the singer with the beat up, smoky, gin-soaked instrument knows more about the song than the singer with the perfect voice and intonation? Why else would Willie Nelson or Bob Dylan get a second listen? They both sound like fingernails on a chalkboard; yet they know how to sing a song. I think I know what Teachout was saying, and I sort of agree with him. But I’ll bet that Billie Holiday wished she had a voice like Ella’s.

John Rippey:

My two cents:

1. Ella swung like mad. She hit the notes as no other female jazz
singer did, so far as I know. That she did not get inside the lyrics is beside the point when you have so much swinging going on. Did Count Basie's band arrangements in the 1950s get inside the lyrics? No, but his men swung every note. When Ella collaborated with the Count, magic happened.

2. Sarah was a gorgeous jazz singer. She made a classic album ("Sarah Vaughan," EmArcy) with ("the late, great") Clifford Brown, trumpet, Paul Quinichette, tenor, Herbie Mann, flute, and Jimmy Jones piano, among others. Each of the nine cuts is impeccable IMHO. Towering performances. Great jazz. Brown died in a car crash in 1956, so the album preceded that year.

3. Lady Day's performances, to me, were overshadowed by her tragic
addiction. She could definitely get inside a lyric, but it was always a painful experience. You were hearing a woman bent on self-destruction. If her performances were great, they would need to be followed with an asterisked footnote, it seems to me.

D. Zug:

He must be kidding! Ella Fitzgerald is pure pleasure to listen to, smooth, exquisite voice; true to the lyrics in the manner of Sinatra. Disagree! Disagree! Disagree!

Steve Wylie:

I absolutely love Ella Fitzgerald! I almost got to see her in concert at Ravinia outside Chicago back in the early nineties when I was stationed at Great Lakes. The evening of the concert, my group arrived ready to picnic under the stars at the outdoor venue when we were notified at the gate that she had to cancel due to illness. Some blues guy was the replacement, I can't remember who it was now. Anyway, I knew I had missed a once in a lifetime opportunity, confirmed of course when Fitzgerald died a very few months later. I still have the ticket stub.

I was in my late twenties at that time and my "Ella stage" was ascendant. My "Billie stage," which lasted throughout my college years, had reached its zenith by then. Teachout's opinion (I only read the excerpt on your blog, not his actual column) is very insightful for me because I think it explains why I became (and remain) more partial to Ella than Billie. It's kind of like that scene in the movie "Diner" where the guys are debating who is best to make out to, Sinatra or Mathis. They ask Mickey Rourke's character, who thinks for a sec then replies, "Presley," a choice which his friends of course find appalling.

Billie Holiday is the ideal vocalist for the college undergrad. Even on a quiet, rural campus (Auburn University) in the mid-eighties, her name was at least remotely understood as synonymous with tragedy by at least enough co-eds on my campus, trust me. Even if they had never heard her sing-- or rather, especially if they knew who she was but had never heard her sing-- putting one of her albums on and dimming the lights were two of my most effective tools for getting lucky in those days. Her mournful voice could set the mood like a narcotic aphrodesiac, lulling the listener into an inviting am-I-blue mood very condusive for making out. Indeed, I think it was precisely because Holiday infused song lyrics with all her sad experience that she was perhaps uniquely affecting to those who, too young and too sheltered to have had such experiences themselves, felt more world-weary and wise when she was singing. At any rate, it seemed to help get me laid on several occasions.

That's not to say that Holiday is only for the tragically hip or for horny college kids trying to score (often one and the same, at least in my case). Far from it. However, as I got older and got some life under my belt, the more I was drawn to Ella. Teachout's article made me realize why. Many of those elements of her singing that he finds detrimental-- her "stick(ing) close to the surface," the idea that she was "joyous, wistful-- and nothing else"-- are precisely what I love about her. My world is complex enough and with enough sad experience now that I don't need a Billie Holiday as much anymore to fill in the blanks. In fact, blank is what I often want and need most, a joyous and wistful blank, sparkling and articulate on the surface and with nothing to trouble me underneath.

Holiday is like the smooth glass of scotch, easing the weight of a hard day; yet it ruins it in a way too, since having a drink is a kind of capitulation to whatever drove you to it: I'm done with the world today, I'm ready to start drinking. Fitzgerald, on the other hand, is a dessert, a light, rich chocolate mousse. She doesn't add to your sorrows or dull your pain, rather her singing reminds you that happiness in life is often about little more than simple pleasures. Like that tune she sings from the Harold Arlen songbook:

Forget your troubles and just get happy
You better chase your cares away!
Sing hallelujah, c'mon get happy
Get ready for the judgment day!

Even given the apocalyptic circumstances, the joy with which she delivers those lines excites me and makes me look forward to tomorrow. Coming from Ella, Judgment Day sounds like a party I don't want to miss! Forget the past, and don't dread the future, she is saying, and I believe her. Billie Holiday is the poster child for tragedy, and yet Fitzgerald had plenty of misfortune and sadness of her own, though you wouldn't know it by the way she sings. That's what I love about her.

Teachout is a fantastic critic. His essays on Westerns, and Randolph Scott in particular, are some of my favorite. But in my opinion it's a redundant exercise to compare Ella to Billie, they are two completely separate things.

John Stodder:

I’m taking you up on your invitation to comment on the Sarah, Billie and Ella comments of Terry Teachout’s.

I am not a huge fan of Sarah Vaughan, with one enormous exception – her brilliant album with Clifford Brown (link here: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00004NHCC/sr=8-6/qid=1141684793/ref=pd_bbs_6/002-6473477-9814408?%5Fencoding=UTF8). For whatever reason, be-bop music done this way seems very close to the bone for her. If Teachout is correct and Sarah Vaughn generally disconnects from the lyrics of her songs, this recording is the exception. She seems very connected here. The joy and pleasure of "He’s My Guy," and the yearning of "Embraceable You" seem fully formed whenever I listen to this. Her other stuff, I get the feeling she felt she was always compromising, so she didn’t put everything into it, at least not consistently.

I saw Ella perform with Joe Pass several times back when I was in high school and college, and I thought she was unquestionably great. I agree, she’s not like a Sinatra. It’s not her heart that’s on the line. She’s not a dramatic singer. She’s always in control. But she greatly respected the composers and their compositions, and I think her passion went toward finding the right tone and rhythm to represent the song in its most beautiful, vivid way. I believe Ella saw herself as a musical instrument. As drama, that’s limited, but for jazz, it’s fine. I doubt John Coltrane was thinking about "raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens" when he played his classic version of "My Favorite Things," and maybe Ella is similarly focused on the message within the melody rather than the words.

Billie Holliday is, to me, nearly a folk artist who happened to work in jazz and pop. I say this because she not only embodied the lyrics, her personality and soul at times transcended them. In her later recordings her voice is harsh and nearly broken, but the performances are powerful because the full measure of her life’s tragedy is presented along with the song. This is somewhat like Sinatra, too, although Sinatra never hit the depths Billie did – just because he was a more under-control guy throughout his life. His deep, dark moments came earlier in his life, when his career was in jeopardy and his love life a source of pain, but his voice was still strong and mellifluous so the pain is less obvious. Pairing Billie with Frank does seem appropriate. They are dramatic artists. Ella is a jazz soloist. Sarah Vaughn is closer to Ella, but less consistently focused.

Anyway...thanks for the invitation to write these words to you.

Richard Rollo:

Well, I grew up as a jazz fan in Los Angeles where Leonard Feather (we called him Learned Father) was the Pope of Jazz. If Leonard didn't like a musician, he would disappear from the known world.

I drifted backwards in jazz myself to the era of James P. Johnson, Fats Waller, Jelly Roll Morton, and Art Tatum. We'll dismiss the Morton critics for hating his piano playing; they just hated him period. But Tatum fans among the critics made the absurd claim that Waller wasn't a very good piano player. Tears from laughter rolled down my face when I heard that. I liked them all for their unique contributions. Tatum made these fantastic runs up and down the piano; Waller sang and made jokes while playing intricate two handed stride bass piano. And, he almost always got it in one take. Try doing that sometime, you critics, I want to hear it.

I always thought the point of jazz improvisation was to take something and make it into something else. Ella, Sarah, and Billie have all done many things that I liked and other things I disliked. I suppose I'll never be a good critic because I focus on what I like and forget about what I don't like.

Many jazz fans and critics have a peculiar contempt for popularity. If that doesn't change soon, it will be all over for jazz if it isn't already.

Alec Zeuli:

Interesting thoughts guys. I think Ella and Sarah were musicians first. They were very strong in the musical (harmonic) content of the songs. Billie had inferior tone generating equipment (poor range and spotty voice quality), but her emotional rawness gave her a powerful impact. I'm not sure it's possible to put the two qualities together. It may be a left brain/right brain thing. Maybe not impossible, but certainly rare, as were those three magnificent voices. As a musician I can appreciate the technical and conceptual skills of Ella and Sarah, the musicians. As the melancholy, artistic type, I can be brought to tears by Billie's plaintive cries. Ain't it great we get to have it all!

Niccolo Donzella:

I also found Teachout’s analysis unsettling. My Dad got me interested in Ella, along with Frank and Joe Williams, when I was an adolescent, and I still listen to all three regularly and, now that my Dad has passed, with even more interest. I agree with Teachout’s point about Sarah – I have always found her to be one of those singers who approach their work more as an instrumentalist than as an interpreter of the lyrics. Some listeners like that approach and there are many successful examples – a recent one being Deanna DeRose. I prefer singers that focus on the lyric, like Stacey Kent. But frankly I had always included Ella in that camp. One of the many features of her singing that I always appreciated is that, in the songbook series, she always took the time to include the pre-amble to the songs, which gives them a real context – like the lead-in to "Lady Is A Tramp" where you learn that "Tramp" is literal and not figurative. I always felt, and still do, that she put the meaning of the song ahead of what she could do with her voice as instrument – as opposed to Sarah and often Nancy Wilson. And I know this is heresy, but I prefer Ella’s approach to Billie’s, because of the joy she put in it.

Alan Weick:

I too find Terry Teachout’s critique of Ella Fitzgerald a bit disturbing. I’m a great fan of hers. As a matter of fact, she was probably the first female jazz vocalist that made me listen intently to what was being sung. I’ve read similar criticism regarding her technical brilliance that was unmatched by an emotional involvement. I suppose it’s a matter of taste. While Billie Holliday is praised by most, her particular charm is lost on me, although I do understand her artistic contribution. The question is why is it less appreciative of the music to like the technical brilliance? I defy anyone to suggest that Ms. Fitzgerald’s rendition of "Lady be Good" is in any way not artistic. It’s a brilliant rendition of what can be made of a song in the hands of a beautiful voice.

I suppose what I find interesting is that Betty Carter was not mentioned. She had a superbly trained voice and a truly distinct artistic style that was musically complex and compelling at the same time.

Brian Adams:

It's Ella! And no just because we share the same birthday (25 April).

Ella showed off the best "instrument." As a horn player, I can say most musicians appreciate singers who use their voices like an instrument. They appreciate cleanliness and precision of pitch, attack, meter, diction. Ella puts both Billie and Sarah in the shade across the board. Yet she could scat and swing you dizzy.

Sarah had a loosey-goosey, irreverent, sexy approach that appealed to a wider audience than Ella, especially when popular music transitioned in the 60s into something far removed from the big band roots these ladies all share. Her nickname was "Sassy" for good reason.

Billie wasn't around for that transition, but during her time she was stylistically unique. A great musician in her own right, she was more about the emotion and message of the song, and appealed to an audience who felt her pain, and sensed the tragedy unfolding in front of them that was her life. I once had a tenor jazzman friend try to explain the sensational phenomenon of hearing Billie live. The essence of her hypnotic attraction was, according to him, pure sexuality. Both men and women were affected deeply by that sexuality.

When you hear the great Ella in her prime, you are stunned by her musical virtuosity, plain and simple. Virtuosity as the term is applied to the giants of instrumental jazz, or classical music. She may not have cared as much about the words, but as a horn player, neither do I.

Jim Brown:

How absurd!

Of course, Billie was the all-time champion in the poignancy sweepstakes. When I'm in the mood for poignancy, and maybe when I'm in the mood for meaningfulness, then I can do no better than put a Billie 33 RPM disc on the turntable.

But Ella could swing in a way that Billie couldn't touch. Nor could anybody else -- except on occasion maybe Sarah. So if I want to hear swinging par excellence, then it's Ella for me!

I find Sarah to have been annoyingly inconsistent. When she was good, probably nobody was better. But much of the time she simply wasn't anywhere near her best.

The difference between Billie and Ella is like the difference between a juicy, rare sirloin and a crispy Peking duck. What does it mean to say one is superior? When I want soft and juicy, then it's Billie all the way. But when I want swinging and crispy, then Ella's the clear champ!

P.S.: Let's not forget Carmen. On the basis of consistency, I've got to rate her above Sarah. And her ability to swing was at least 90% equal to Ella.

Dennis Zuckerman:

Sorry, but you got it exactly backwards. Sarah "Sassy" Vaughn had far more range and melodic imagination than Fitzgerald, who too often fell back on pyrotechnics and her rather predictable scat singing. I'd even rank some of Carmen McRae's work above Fitzgerald, e.g., the "Live at Sugar Hill" album recorded in S.F.

Fred Nergenah:

With pleasure I accept your invitation to respond to your Ella post. First, a bit about me:

I "discovered" Ella when I was a youngster (early 20s) spending a weekend in New Orleans with a date. This was in the early 1970s. We thought it would be fun to "dress up" and go to a nightclub, such venues still existing back then, and discovered a place called the Blue Room at the Fairmont-Roosevelt hotel where, it would seem, someone named Ella Fitzgerald was appearing. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but Fitzgerald could have been a country singer, for all I knew. Now then, I'm a pianist and had grown up playing the Cole Porter and Gershwin and Irving Berlin standards. I had never cared much for vocalists; always having a dramatic preference for jazz instrumentals. When Ella began singing, however, I was knocked over. I had never heard anything so sublime. That performance is one of the peak experiences of my life. I'm not exaggerating. I still don't care for vocalists (give me Oscar Peterson or Erroll Garner or the Modern Jazz Quartet!), in fact, but I managed to catch Ella at a few other venues during the next decade: with the St. Louis Symphony (omg!), at the Saraha in Las Vegas, at a summer festival near St. Louis, at Ravinia. I adore the woman and felt a personal loss when she died, and I'm not one to become emotionally attached to celebrities. (Ronald Reagan is about the only other attachment of that sort that occurs to me just now.)

Re Teachout's commentary: Nuts, although I understand where Teachout is coming from. (1) Ella, I think, thought of, and used, her voice as an instrument. I agree Ella didn't get into the lyrics as much as Holliday, instead letting the lyrics of the great standards more or less speak for themselves, at least by comparison with what Holliday would do with a lyric. But I don't like Holliday: Interesting, to be sure, but so depressing. Holliday makes me feel I'm being carried away by a personality to somewhere I'm not sure I want to go. The lyric becomes submerged by Holliday's process. My reaction to Holiday vs. Ella is vaguely superficial, I suppose, but, on the other hand: perhaps I'm just more literal and have no use for Holliday.

(2) Vaughan vs. Ella: Vaughn leaves me cold. I reaction to Vaughan: This isn't Ella. Close, but not close enough; something is missing.

(3) I don't believe Ella was a highly intelligent woman; that is possibly the reason why Teachout finds Ella's stylings superficial. Teachout's characterization of Ella's art as "joyous and wistful" is really quite accurate. Simply put: I think Ella was a joyous and wistful person. Upon Ella's death, the common thread of the obits was "cheerful." I really hadn't realized that before reading it, but once I saw it, I understood; up to that time I really couldn't figure out what I appreciated her so much to the almost total exclusion of any other vocalist. The standout characterization from one obit: Ella could sing a moody and down song, but you knew, and you knew that she knew, that although she might be depressed today, everything would be OK tomorrow. I like that (and apparently Teachout does not) and I think that projected quality of personality (i.e., joyousness and wistfulness), as something apart from her pure craft, is what overwhelms me about her. God, I really do miss her.

I hope this makes some sense. I'm hardly a music scholar or critic and Its all off the top of my head; I'm more or less typing as I think.

Btw, Scott, thanks to you and your colleagues at Power Line. Power Line is one of my 4 or 5 must-read-every-day blogs.

E.J. Boysen:

Teachout just likes more passion in his singers; he wants it raw. Billie was a bad girl, a junkie. We slummed with her. She lived on the dark side so we ached when she ached and we got high when she got high. She was sexy, forbidden. Dark. Even her voice was shattered, hollow, and dirty, so when she sang, we got a little dirty too. When she sang the blues, she had the blues. Billie always had the blues. Good Morning Heartache. She sang the lullabyes to our souls.

Ella was a good girl, a natural talent. She didn't have a dark side, just this beautiful, sweet voice in this great big body. Not sexy, not dirty, no blues. Not the blues she could share anyway, she wasn't that kind of girl. They're in there though, all cleaned up, but they're in there. Not raw, not dark, but light and clean as if she washed them, dried them, and shined them up so they'd be pretty for us. Listen to her sing I Wants to Stay Here from Porgy & Bess, or Summertime, and you'll hear 'em. Just listen. She just doesn't undress herself like Billie did, she didn't have to. Billie was never dressed. Ella always was.

Sarah Vaughan pretended to be one or the other but could never quite make up her mind. That's why her songs tend to crash around alot and you had to listen awhile before you knew it was Sarah. Billie you knew right away. Same with Ella. But Sarah Vaughn has to crash into a lyric or smash up a melody before you knew it was her. She sang loud. Not so the other girls, who could do it all with a whisper.

But they all got soul, so let's not change a one.

David Carter:

Teachout is a scholar of impeccable credentials, and I always find his writing interesting, and occasionally provocative - as in this case. I am not sufficiently well-versed in musical theory to opine on the arcane pronouncements of experts, but my own notion is that a "canary" who pleases - through purity of tone and pitch, enthusiastic delivery, and fidelity to the rhythm - has earned her keep. I read only the snippets of the article quoted in Powerline, but unless Teachout included comments - and favorable ones, at that - on the peerless Anita O'Day somewhere in his essay, I can't say that his comments on Ella are unsettling, let alone shocking, because he's committed a huge error of omission. Could Billie Holiday get inside a song? Nobody can reasonably dispute it; but I think her ability to bring off the "outside" of the song was not always that sure. And to include Fred Astaire in this assembly? Please. A pleasant pop singer, and certainly skilled at delivering the proper emotional quality; but one has the advantage of actually seeing Astaire perform, and no doubt the visual access to the whole performance enhances the singing. How successful would he have been without that other little talent, i.e., the dancing?

Ginger Rose:

I agree 100 percent that this contest belongs to Ella, and I find myself annoyed that anyone would write the cons of each, they all made a wonderful contribution to Jazz. Ella had longevity she perfected her skill to a fine art, and lead the clean life her voice had the bonus for doing this.

Now if your doing this sort of thing how about the Sax? If you put three at the top who would you choose? Coleman Hawkins (Body & Soul) Charlie Parker too wild, or Desmond who is my favorite? He had the only pure sound.

Thanks for this, a nice change from Politics.

Tom Spaulding:

I love 'em all. Holiday in her prime was amazing, but I especially like the later period when her voice was diminished by the very experiences she sang about with new and deeper understanding. Her love life was apparently always a mess, and she speaks with authority whenever broken hearts are the topic.

I would add the superb Betty Carter to any premiere jazz vocalist discussion. A listen to her trio recordings (I have a compilation on vinyl called "Inside Betty Carter") will reveal a technical and
emotional master. Her renditions of "It's Love" or "Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most" are lessons in song interpretation. She can scat with ease, and her voice evokes a trombone in her lower register and a soprano sax higher up. A marvel.

Dr. Clifton Chadwick:

I have been a jazz fan for over fifty years, so much so that I have sought out great jazz figures to talk to them. I have had chats with Brubeck, George Shearing, Dizzy Gillespie, Chris Connors, Ahmad Jamal and others (and I'm just a country boy). My first foray into this kind of personal thing was with Nat Cole when he appeared at Red Rocks Amphitheater in Denver in the ‘50’s. I insinuated my teenage self into his dressing room and did not so much talk to him as just listen while he talked to his assistants and band people. Brubeck once gave me a simple explanation of how he wrote Blue Rondo a la Turk and Shearing told me his favorite note was C sharp.

I also have a serious background in classical music which has given me a broader perspective from which to consider jazz.

I certainly agree with Teachout about Ella. More, I love Sylvia Syms’ comment. I have always told my friends that Ella was a highly over-rated singer, that she was lazy with her voice and unaware of the lyrics.

Billie Holiday was certainly the best of them, but I also defend Chris Connors particularly on her lovely album called "Chris" (she has dozens of albums), on songs like "All About Ronnie," or Strayhorn’s "Lush Life."

One further comment: Diana Krall is one of the worst singer I have ever heard and I cannot understand why she gets attention. She not only is oblivious of the lyrics, she has a lousy voice which she uses even worse.

I enjoy your blog very much. Cheers.

Fred Fagal:

Ella is the golf pro who hits perfect shots on the practice range but has little creativity on the golf course.

I am 60 years old. I was in my car the other day listening to an Ella Fitzgerald tape that had been my father's. I do like to listen to old time radio shows and I thus listen to a fair amount of 1930s and 1940s music. My impression of Ella fitzgerald is/was great voice, showing off, songs "there but not there," song rhythms just "off" enough from standard to to be "creative" (but annoying) and I agree with no emotion.

Thanks for your blog!