Tales from the USA, Part 2: Finding Marshall Allen
"How do I do what I don't know? I don't know, I just do!"
As I wrote in the very first post of this newsletter, one of my highlights of 2023 was seeing the Sun Ra Arkestra in concert for the first time.
I had known very little about the group going into the show; only that they were pioneers of avant-garde ‘space jazz’, and had originally been the vehicle of the extremely mysterious, almost mythical musician known as Sun Ra. I also knew that the band was now under the direction of 99-year-old saxophonist Marshall Allen, who had been a member of the Arkestra since 1958. Watching recent videos of an unbelievably animated and vigorous Marshall leading his band, I knew this was something I had to experience first hand.
The show took place at The Forge, a small club in Camden, London. The 12-piece Arkestra materialised onstage in their trademark glittery, sequined robes, and I saw musicians whose work I would become very familiar with as my interest deepened over the next few months: saxophonist Knoel Scott, trumpeter Michael Ray, vocalist Tara Middleton, and many others. But the one person I didn’t see taking the stage was Marshall Allen. Oh well, I thought. Perhaps he’ll make a dramatic entrance after the first song.
Several songs went by, however, and still there was no sign of Marshall. Knoel Scott was leading the band – brilliantly – but I couldn’t help but wonder about the absent 99-year-old. Had he been taken ill? I have in the past encountered situations where older musicians have continued to tour through bouts of ill-health, sometimes with disastrous consequences.
Fortunately, some post-show enquiries reassured me that Marshall was fine. He had simply given up overseas travel, and was now limiting himself to appearances close to the Arkestra’s base of operations: Philadelphia. Somewhere in the back of my mind, wheels began to turn.
I knew that I wanted to hear Marshall Allen play his saxophone, and I also knew that Marshall was unlikely to play in the United Kingdom again. Therefore, if Marshall couldn’t come to me, it was up to me to go to Marshall.
Marshall Belford Allen was born in Louisville, Kentucky on 25th May 1924. He began taking clarinet lessons at age 10, and his musical interest continued even as he enlisted in the army at age 18. The U.S. Army still being racially segregated at this time, Marshall was a member of the entirely African-American 92nd Infantry Division (or “Buffalo Soldiers”) that participated in the Liberation of Italy in 1944.
Later, while stationed in Paris, Marshall played alto saxophone in the 17th Division Special Services Band. The alto would remain his primary instrument from then on (although he plays many others).
After receiving an honourable discharge from the army in 1949, Marshall remained in Europe, and – thanks to President Roosevelt’s 1944 ‘G.I. Bill’ that offered to fund higher education for WWII veterans – enrolled at the Paris Conservatory of Music, studying the clarinet under the French clarinettist Ulysse Delécluse.
In Europe, Marshall also collaborated with other Black American soldier/musicians, including fellow saxophonists Don Byas and James Moody, and pianist Art Simmons. Incredibly, a recording of a band featuring Marshall and Simmons, recorded in Vienna, Austria in either 1949 or 1950, is available to listen to on YouTube.
Marshall returned to the US in 1951 and headed for Chicago, where his family was now based. He immersed himself in the city’s music scene, leading bands and writing music, before a record store owner played him a recording that would change his life: a demo by a musician called Sun Ra. This is how Marshall told the tale during a 2016 interview with Jeff Mao for the Red Bull Music Academy:
I was around Chicago. I heard about Sun Ra through a record producer and jazz analyst and whatever you want to call it. He had a record store so he gave me a record with Sun Ra’s music on it. I heard the music and I fell in love with the sound of the music and the way it was played. I’d say, "Oh, Lord, that’s beautiful." I went back to buy another one, he says, "You know, Sun Ra is looking for a musician. He’s always looking for young musicians with talent that want to play." I said, "Yeah?" He said, "Yeah, he lives on the south side." I said, "I live over there." They was rehearsing in ballrooms. They had a rehearsal place. Everyday they would rehearse. I said, "I’m going over there."
Marshall joined Sun Ra’s band, and so began an association that would continue all the way through to Ra’s departure from Earth in 1993.
As Sun Ra’s music moved further into the avant-garde throughout the ’60s and ‘70s, so too did Marshall’s playing, which evolved into the highly unusual ‘squealing’ style that would become his trademark. Bandmate Knoel Scott described this technique for Art Yard in 2017: “Marshall whipped and strummed his saxophone like a Jimi Hendrix played his guitar, his fingers sculpting lines and rapid fire notes as clear and fast as the sound of a machine gun.”
Here’s an example of Marshall’s signature style from 1989:
Marshall took over leadership of the Arkestra in 1995, following the death of the original Sun Ra successor John Gilmore. The new role wasn’t easy – a 2005 article in the New York Times detailed the struggles of maintaining such a large band – but the Sun Ra Arkestra rolled on, gradually re-establishing itself as one of the most formidable live acts in the world.
Three-and-a-half months after seeing the Arkestra in London, I was in Philadelphia; partly to soak up some US history, but also to find Marshall Allen. My original plan had been to get a ticket to the Arkestra performance in Allentown, Pennsylvania on 18th November, which, being so close to Philly, I was reasonably sure Marshall would attend. However, I was foiled by my own poor planning: I realised that getting to and from Allentown in one evening would be more complicated than I had thought, and so regrettably had to let the opportunity pass by. Thankfully, another one was just around the corner.
It turned out that Marshall had (and continues to have) a monthly engagement at the tiny Solar Myth jazz club on Broad Street. This project, christened Marshall Allen’s Ghost Horizons, involves Marshall leading a different small group of musicians on the last Tuesday of each month. Sometimes Arkestra members sit in; trumpeter Michael Ray and trombonist Dave Davis have both appeared, while guitarist David Hotep is generally the one regular band member besides Marshall himself. The next performance was on 28th November, and I set about rearranging my schedule to ensure I could make the show.
I was delighted that I would get the chance to see Marshall play after all, but there was still something else I needed to do before that: find the Sun Ra House.
Sun Ra and his Arkestra made Philadelphia their permanent residence in 1968, following stints in Chicago and New York City. Their new home, an unassuming rowhouse in Philly’s Germantown neighbourhood, was owned by Marshall Allen’s father, who sold it to Sun Ra for one dollar.
Possibly anticipating complaints about the band’s marathon rehearsal sessions, Sun Ra decreed that his musicians needed to become a positive force in their community. As such, the Arkestra could often be found giving free concerts in nearby Vernon Park, making appearances on local radio, and operating a neighbourhood grocery store called The Pharoah’s Den. The core members of the Arkestra lived with Sun Ra in the house, and it remains the band’s HQ to this day.
I’d heard a few different things about Germantown, but eventually decided that I needed to see the house, especially since it had recently been added to the historic buildings register. And so, on a cold autumn morning, I walked down to Jefferson Station and boarded a Regional Rail train to Germantown.
This train journey turned out to be one of the unexpected highlights of my USA trip. We passed through neighbourhoods, old industrial areas, and leafy woodland, all of it looking totally alien from my homeland of the UK. Finally it was my stop, and I set off down Germantown Avenue to look for the turning onto Morton Street, where the Sun Ra House is located.
Finding the street, I immediately understood why Sun Ra and the band had selected this as their base of operations. Morton Street felt out of the way and peaceful, the perfect place for musicians to practice without distraction. After a short walk, there it was: unmistakable with its bright green window frames and spacey mural on the door.
Taped to the inside of one of the windows was a photograph of Sun Ra standing outside the house with his longest serving sideman, the great tenor saxophonist John Gilmore, who played in the Arkestra from 1953 all the way up to his death in 1995.
I took a few moments to stand by the house and think about all the musicians who had passed through it, but I was mindful that these were people’s homes and didn’t want to loiter. I continued walking around the corner onto Heiskell Street, to find the site of the Pharoah’s Den grocery store.
You can see what the store looked like in its heyday - and meet its owner, the late baritone saxophonist Danny Ray Thompson - in this clip from the documentary A Joyful Noise (1980):
Nowadays, the store is long gone and the building is a regular house.
In hindsight, I wish I’d spent a little more time exploring Germantown, which is full of fascinating architecture and historic houses. However, I knew I had to save energy for that night, when I would be seeing Marshall Allen at the Solar Myth.
The Solar Myth is an old school hole-in-the-wall jazz club/wine bar on Broad Street, so discreet that it could easily go unnoticed. I arrived at 7:30pm, half an hour before showtime, and sat at the bar watching the room gradually fill up.
Beside the bar there was a selection of books and records for sale, many of them associated with Sun Ra. A man came to the bar holding a copy of A Strange Celestial Road: My Time in the Sun Ra Arkestra by trumpeter Ahmed Abdullah. Coincidentally, I had also recently purchased this book, and so the two of us struck up a conversation. It turned out that this man, Martin, was a longtime friend of Marshall Allen, and he proceeded to tell me some very funny stories about the Arkestra’s unusual existence back in the day.
As we were talking, I looked over Martin’s shoulder to see an elderly man walking slowly but steadily past the bar, heading for the front door. Marshall Allen!
“I know what he’s doing,” said Martin, spotting his friend. “He’s trying to decide whether it’s too cold to go outside for a cigarette.”
Marshall apparently decided it was not too cold and slipped out. A few moments later his manager ran out to retrieve him from the elements.
On his way back in, Marshall spotted Martin, and came over to say hello. Martin then introduced Marshall to me! Meeting celebrities and people I admire is not one of my strengths, but I did my best, telling Marshall I had come from London to see him after experiencing the Knoel Scott-led Arkestra. He seemed happy to hear that and shook my hand, and then excused himself to get ready.
A few minutes later the doors to the back room, the club, opened and we all filed in. I wasn’t sure exactly who would be backing Marshall this evening, but that question was answered when he walked down the centre aisle followed by four women. One I recognised as the Sun Ra Arkestra’s resident vocalist and violin player Tara Middleton. The others, as I would find out later, were drummer Jan Jeffries, violinist Gwen Laster, and viola player Melanie Dyer.
They arranged themselves onstage with Marshall seated in the middle. I had heard he sometimes didn’t play his alto saxophone at Ghost Horizons performances – opting instead for his Electronic Valve Instrument (EVI) or a strange miniature Casio keyboard – but I was pleased to see that the saxophone was waiting onstage.
I’d like to describe the music these five musicians played over the next however-long-it-was, but frankly it defies description. As you can probably imagine, it was “far out,” with the band following Marshall intently. It might seem unusual to describe a 99-year-old as a ball of energy, but that’s exactly what Marshall is. He switched between saxophone, the mini keyboard and the EVI, and at one point led the band through an improvised (and extremely unsettling) version of “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire.”
Here’s a few minutes of footage I managed to capture (be sure to check out Marshall playing his Electronic Valve Instrument at 3:10).
After the show, David Hotep appeared onstage to announce that CDs and posters would be available to purchase. The band started to pack their instruments away - Gwen Laster and Melanie Dyer were in a hurry to catch the last train back to NYC - all except for Marshall and Tara Middleton, who remained seated, talking.
I approached Tara and told her I had seen her perform with the Arkestra in London back in August, and she was happy to hear I’d enjoyed the show. Then I was able to talk to Marshall again for a few moments, which gave me a second chance to get my words out properly. I told him I had loved the show, and that it was a privilege to meet him and see him perform. He smiled, shook my hand once again, and – after I’d bought a poster (which was kindly sold to me for $9 even though I was a dollar short) – I left the Solar Myth and set off down Broad Street.
“I’m doing this for my wellbeing, to [give to] the listener for their wellbeing,” says Marshall in a recent interview with the Philadelphia Enquirer.
Well, that’s what I feel he did for me. I came out of the show feeling energised and happy, as though something had been transmitted to me through the music. I also no longer felt bad about missing the Arkestra show in Allentown earlier that month. Marshall, I now realised, is a one-man Sun Ra Arkestra.
“You know, in a lot of ways, [Marshall] is the alter ego of Sun Ra,” says Arkestra pianist Farid Barron in the 2008 Arkestra documentary Points On A Space Age. “They’re both Geminis, and Gemini is the sign of the twins.”
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this article, you are more than welcome to share it.
Special thanks to Thomas Houston for allowing me to use a couple of his photos from the Sun Ra Arkestra’s Allentown concert. Thomas is a wonderful photographer, and you can find more of his work on his Flickr page.
Sources
Marshall Allen biography, All About Jazz (article)
“Marshall Allen: Philly Hometown Hero” by Suzanne Cloud, Jazz Philadelphia (article)
“Marshall Allen, The Maestro” by Knoel Scott, Art Yard" (article)
“Struggling to Keep the Band and Legend of Sun Ra Alive” by Corey Kilgannon, New York Times (article)
“Historic Spotlight: Sun Ra House Added to the Register” by Allyson Mehley, City of Philadelphia (article)
A Strange Celestial Road: My Time in the Sun Ra Arkestra by Ahmed Abdullah (book)
“Marshall Allen and Danny Thompson on The Legacy of Sun Ra” (video)
“Out There A Minute with Marshall Allen” (video)
“The Sun Ra Arkestra - Marshall Allen I Babylon Interview” (video)
“SPACE IS THE PLACE: Marshall Allen Talks About His Time With The Sun Ra Arkestra” (video)
Sun Ra Arkestra - True People's CELEBRATION 2002 (video)
“Marshall Allen Interview by Monk Rowe - 7/19/2021 - Zoom” (video)
Sun Ra Arkestra's 99-year-old director says musical inspiration keeps him energized
Hi, there! I've coincidentally come across these pages and, I remain stunned! Recently, I've published in Prague, Czech Republic, my review of the Art on Saturn book, but now I can see that there are lot of other beautiful things to still learn about!
Thanks,
Zdenek V. Pecka
Europe
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this article. I felt as though I was there on the journey too, also excited and curious as the path moved closer to reaching Marshall. Wonderful!