Memorial to Richard Lieberson 1949-2006

please feel free to send a posting to benfreed@optonline.net

one of the last videos of Richard playing, on Youtube

From Terry Roach:

My sister Maggie and I sang with The Central Park Sheiks for a brief 
period in 1974, when the band consisted of Richard Lieberson, Bob  
Hipkens and Bert Lee.    Recently one of my guitar students unearthed 
a copy of one of the live performances we all did.  Listening to it 
brought me right back to 1974 - rehearsing in the loft on Great Jones 
St.  Making food with incredible amounts of ginger.  Being in awe of 
all three of them.  What made that band great was how different they 
each were from the other.  They were like 3 guys from separate 
planets,  each one the strongest representative their planet had to 
offer.  I learned a lot.  Real glad someone thought to tape it. And 
real sad to hear of Richard's passing.

From Peter Shenkin(9/12/06)

Richard died last night,having suffered a heart attack three weeks earlier.  Though he
seemed to do well at first, his condition quickly deteriorated,
leading to emergency open-heart surgery, pneumonia, partial kidney
and liver failure.  There was a cardiac-arrest incident a week
after the operation.  He was successfully resuscitated, but it took
several weeks for the other symptoms to sufficiently improve for
his condition to be evaluated.  At that time, he was found to be
medically and legally brain-dead.

The following will appear in the obituary notice that his family
is putting into the New York Times: "Richard was a scholar of
early country and jazz guitar styles and a guitarist who could play
completely idiomatically in many different styles.  He was the author
of an influential book on playing country fiddle tunes on the guitar,
as well as a still unpublished study of early jazz guitar styles."

Richard was the mainstay of the Central Park Sheiks in the 1970s,
along with Matt Glaser and others -- something he would often joke
was better forgotten.  Readers of this list may be familiar with
his interview with Eldon Shamblin that appeared around 1980 in
Guitar Player magazine and with his article on Zeke Turner for the
Journal of Country Music. I forget when this was; maybe the early
'90s.  He also wrote liner notes for several CD re-issues of LPs,
including Hank Garland's "Jazz Winds from a New Direction."

Richard made his living playing music in the New York area -- mainly
traditional jazz.  He played with Vince Giordano and the Nighthawks
for several years. For a while he had a working group with violinist
Bob Mastrow and added bass -- often Marty Confurius.  He had a
vast repertoire.  He once told me that on a Memorial-Day-weekend
Dixieland gig at the Statue of Liberty, the band played 8 hours
on each of the three days without repeating themselves. That was
just a small sampling of a single genre. He was respected by and
on friendly terms with the New York A-team of mainstream jazz players,
such as Ken Peplowski, Dan Levinson, Bucky Pizzarelli, James Cirillo
and Howard Alden. In the '80s, he taught at Jay Unger and Molly Mason's
"Western and Swing Week" at Ashokan, which is where I got to know
him.  He himself had studied with blues legend the Reverend Gary
Davis and jazz great George Barnes.

Those who knew him told stories about his quick and acerbic wit. He
did not suffer fools, but fools suffered in his presence.  Underneath
this was one of the sweetest guys I have ever met. I confess that
this never occurred to me while he was alive.  Though his social
skills were in some ways rudimentary -- small-talk was an art he
never mastered --, once he got onto a subject he loved, like music,
or, in recent years, his newly discovered mafioso ancester (which
his family had kept secret), he would come alive and gleefully
engage everyone present.

This ability to engage people served him well in his "second
career" of researching and writing about notable guitarists whom
he admired.  I already mentioned his interview with Eldon Shamblin.
For his article about Zeke Turner, he interviewed a number of
well-known Nashville "golden-era" guitarists, as well as Zeke's
brother, bass player Zeb.  For his book, he collected interview
notes he had made over the previous twenty years.  He attended
an 80th-birthday party for Al Casey, who had played acoustic guitar
for Fats Waller. At the party, Richard performed Al's showpiece,
"Buck Jumpin'", recorded some 50 years earlier, note for note.
He did the same for Tiny Moore in the '80s with Tiny's solo on
"Fat Boy Rag".  From Richard I learned to recognize Chet or Grady
or Hank or Roy or Zeke after hearing just a few bars.  I could
usually outguess him on steel players, though. :-)

Richard frequently came to my place for dinner or for parties, and
I would often go to his place to spend the evening watching and
talking about old jazz and country videos or listening to music,
or discussing his extensive collection of noir paperbacks.  I would
always hear something new, or something old a new way. We we would
sometimes go to pickin' parties together and would always end up
playing -- mostly country stuff.  Richard (unlike me and my poor
efforts) could keep up with the best of them.  To hear him "do"
Eldon was amazing; he could also "do" Zeke, and sometimes, in an
unexpected place, would come, say, a Roy Nichols lick that would
make you fall over. I recall Duke Ellington's describing himself
as feeling this way on hearing Paul Desmond "doing" Johnny Hodges.

Richard also loved reharmonizing country tunes. I remember his
rendition of "Kentucky Waltz" -- each verse getting more abstract...
and everything done tastefully and in its proper place. One never
had the sense that he was showing off.

Over the past 20 years, Richard was one of my closest -- maybe my
closest -- friend.  I saw no reason that our relationship of music
and friendship should ever end.  As John O'Hara said upon George
Gershwin's death, "I don't have to believe it if I don't want to."

Richard's friends and relatives will be arranging a musical
memorial to him in a month or so.

-Peter Shenkin.

From Ben Freed

As a teenager, I used Richard's book, "Fiddle Tunes for Guitar" as my first guitar instruction book. I sure got a lot out of it. Then I had the good fortune to jam with him a few times at Connie's house these last two summers. I was stunned by Richard's awesome mastery of the guitar and at the same time impressed by his charming modesty. He spoke to me at length about his current book, as yet unpublished, on the history of jazz guitar. Hopefully someone will take his work and find a publisher.  He seemed like a great guy. I'm sorry I didn't get to explore a further friendship with him. 

Peace, Richard.

The following are from participants in the "greatcountry" Yahoo
list, where my tribute to Richard originally appeared.

4b. Re: Richard Lieberson, 1949-2006
Posted by: "Dan Cutrer" 
Date: Tue Sep 12, 2006 6:09 pm (PDT)

Peter,

Thanks for the news, the biography Richard was far too reserved to
mention.

I always enjoyed an occasional private email from Richard, often
with a subversive song attached that he'd dare me to post. <g>

Most of us are from places where The City refers to New Orleans. We
were all kinda amazed that a man who knew as much as Richard did
about 'our' music managed to adapt in NYC. He had the unique ability
to come out of left field (no pun intended) with an observation that
fit in perfectly, one that comes to mind is of the night he saw ET
in a punk rock club in the East Village, "...And ya'll come see us
in Nashville" to a crowd of kids who had their mohawks colored green.

I know I write for the entire group collectively when I ask that you
extend our sympathy and our thoughts to the survivors. I often quote
a letter Faulkner wrote to the widow of his editor: "He'll be missed
by the kind of people who I hope will one day miss me." We will miss
him.

Godspeed, Friend Richard!

________________________________________________________________________

4c. Re: Richard Lieberson, 1949-2006
Posted by: "Larry Davis"
Date: Tue Sep 12, 2006 6:22 pm (PDT)

I, too, thank you Peter for sharing this news and the biography of
Richard with the group. He was a friend of all who have a passionate
love of good music. I still have some tracks yet to post on the last
CD he sent me. As Dan indicated, he loved to include obscure, but
worthy, tracks with a note "I dare you to post it to GC files". I
considered him a friend, yet I hardly knew him at all. He will be
missed, but not forgotten.

________________________________________________________________________

4d. Re: Richard Lieberson, 1949-2006
Posted by: Skelton1940
Date: Tue Sep 12, 2006 7:00 pm (PDT)

Damn, I hate to hear this. I have enjoyed reading his post for the last
couple of years. My Condolences go to his family. So Sorry. Ken
________________________________________________________________________

4e. Re: Richard Lieberson, 1949-2006
Posted by: "Tim Ausburn" 
Date: Tue Sep 12, 2006 7:09 pm (PDT)

Thanks Peter for sharing this sad news with us.

I corresponded with Richard by postal mail way before I got on
the internet.

We swapped a few things over the years. I never met him but
talked to him on the phone a few times. My thoughts and prayers
go out to his family. He will be missed.

________________________________________________________________________

4f. Re: Richard Lieberson, 1949-2006
Posted by: "Larry Davis" 
Date: Tue Sep 12, 2006 7:15 pm (PDT)

> In a message dated 9/12/2006 9:00:34 PM Eastern Standard Time,
> Peter Shenkin writes:
> Richard, a regular contributor to this list, died last night,
> having suffered a heart attack three weeks earlier.

It's a shame we don't learn more about a talented member until after they are gone. Here's an example of his eclectic taste in music.

Richard Lieberson
Richard Lieberson is a working guitarist with recordings on Flying Fish. He is now part of Vince Giordano's Nighthawks (a big band specializing in 20s/30s arrangements) and has a broad background in country, country blues, vintage-through-60s jazz, and many R&B styles and artists. He is the author of Old-Time Fiddle Tunes for Guitar and his work has appeared in Jazz Guitars, Guitar Player, and Country Musicians. He has written various liner notes.
Lieberson writes:

I find that having to compile a brief "desert island" or "best of" list spanning all genres and sub-genres is an impossible task and goes against the grain. Does one leave out Bill Monroe or Thelonious Monk? Django Reinhardt or Chet Baker? Instead, I'm listing some artists and recordings I've listened to often in the past few years, without claiming that they are my all-time favorites (some are) or that they are the "best" in their respective fields.


Desert Island Picks


Charles Brown with Johnny Moore's Three Blazers

Sam Cooke Night Beat

The Davis Sisters (Skeeter and Betty Jack) (RCA 45s)

Coleman Hawkins Hollywood Stampede

Goldie Hill (Decca 45s)

Sheila Jordan Duets with various bassists

Percy Mayfield Best of Percy Mayfield

Lefty Frizzell

The Nat King Cole Trio

Le MystSre des Voix Bulgares

Paul Desmond Quartets with Jim Hall

the Bill Evans Trio with Scott LaFaro and Paul Motian

Jean Shepard

Percy Sledge (early Capitol recordings)

Jack Teagarden Think Well of Me (Verve)

Lester Young, with Basie and Billie Holiday, plus misc. 1940s dates.

Little Jimmy Scott, live performances, Roost 78s, and Lost and Found (Rhino), All Music Guide...

________________________________________________________________________

4g. Re: Richard Lieberson, 1949-2006
Posted by: "busgal58jb"
Date: Tue Sep 12, 2006 7:24 pm (PDT)

RIP for sure and thanks for sharing with us. It always amazes me about the
folks in here and that I fit in so well just as a fan.

________________________________________________________________________

4h. Re: Richard Lieberson, 1949-2006
Posted by: "Skelton1940"
Date: Tue Sep 12, 2006 9:38 pm (PDT)

In a message dated 9/12/2006 9:09:50 PM Eastern Standard Time,
Dan Cutrer wrote:

> I often quote a letter Faulkner wrote to the widow of his 
> editor: "He'll be missed by the kind of people who I hope 
> will one day miss me." We will miss him.

Godspeed, Friend Richard!

Well said Dan, ...I hope will one day miss me.
Faulkner may have been a Mississippi hillbilly
but he was a smart oneKen

________________________________________________________________________

4i. Re: Richard Lieberson, 1949-2006
Posted by: "John Mcfadden" 
Date: Wed Sep 13, 2006 3:06 am (PDT)


I wish to extend to his family and close friends my
deepest sympathy. My thoughts are with you in your
time of loss. Your great loss is our great loss,
also.

May you rest in peace, Richard. Thank you, Dear Sir,
for sharing with us you knowledge, music and kindness.

From Peter Shenkin's eulogy:

Those who knew Richard told stories about his quick and
acerbic wit. He did not suffer fools, but fools suffered in
his presence. Underneath, he was one of the sweetest guys I
have ever met. I confess that this never occurred to me
while he was alive. Though his social skills were in some
ways rudimentary -- small-talk being an art he never
mastered --, once he got onto a subject he loved, like
music, or, in recent years, his newly discovered mafioso
ancestor, he would come alive and gleefully engage everyone
present.

When I got a dog, Richard didn't know how to interact with
him. He always appeared awkward and clumsy when he would
bend over to pet him and say "Hiya, Sam". But Sam loved
Richard. He would always get very excited seeing Richard
walk out of the elevator, and when Richard sat down, Sam
would lean on Richard's legs and eventually settle at his
feet.

Richard had deep and broad knowledge of the less crowded
musical corridors. I remember his article on Zeke Turner,
who "came up" in Cincinnati with Jerry Byrd and Chet Atkins.
It took Richard to bring attention and posthumous fame to
Zeke, a background player whom, probably, nobody else had
ever given a moment's thought to. But Zeke's style is
unmistakable, once pointed out. In the article, Richard
placed himself in the world of this one obscure musician
working in a backwater of country-music production. We
learned, however, that it had been a major crossroads in its
day. Firmly planted in this location in space and time,
Richard mapped out the radiating geographical and historical
pathways that defined country music at the most exciting
moment in its development.

I've not dwelt here on Richard as a musician. Suffice it to
say that he was a guitarist who could play completely
idiomatically in many different jazz and country styles.

Others possess, in isolated form, the knowledge that Richard
had, but Richard's perspective and comprehension were
unique. His loss is to the world. As Winston Churchill
wrote upon the death of his dear friend, mentor and
political opponent, Lord Balfour, "I felt the tragedy which
robs the world of all the wisdom and treasure gathered in a
great man's life and experience, and hands the lamp to some
impetuous and untutored stripling, or lets it fall, shivered
into fragments, upon the ground."

While I didn't know Richard well, I had the pleasure of playing with him and hanging out with him in the early days of The Wayfaring Strangers (a group assembled by Matt Glaser in the mid-90's and still going strong). A few years ago, we had a phone conversation dealing with his planned book on jazz guitar, for which I was going to do some transcription and typesetting work. He was probably still pouring his encyclopedic knowledge into the project when he was stricken. In any event, we've lost a great musician far too soon.
John McGann

I'm Richard's younger brother. That's a beautiful thing that you are
doing for Richard. Here is my piece that I will say at the funeral today. It might be interesting to have a different point of view up on your site.
Thanks.

My early relationship with my brother was not particularly endearing.
Nine years younger, I was a target for endless teasing and ridicule,
which took years for me to learn how to take.
But there was one different kind of day I will always remember.
He must have been around 16 or 17, which puts me at seven or eight. It
was a three part trip. First he took me on the subway, not an
extraordinary circumstance, but different when he related the story of
the man who had his head cut off by the closing doors. Then he took me
to the Penny Arcade on 53rd Street, and introduced me to the wonders of
skeeball and cheap magic tricks amongst the wondrous variety of folks
who habituated that hall. Then he took me to meet his friend Moondog. We
met at his hangout in front of the CBS building and then they took me to
Moondog’s pad where he played odd instruments and amazed me that someone
who looked so darned weird could be so cool. Besides scaring the crap
out of me, I started to figure out that day what my brother Richard was
about.
I really don’t remember too much about the days back then. I remember
his room with the “Fuck Communism” poster and the sensibility at 15 you
see at his place right now, only slightly busier. I remember the fights
with my folks. A lot of fights. And except for that one day we had
together, I was one of them.
Somewhere along the way, things changed. Some shift that came with me
leaving my father’s profession and finding my own bearings and my own
family, or perhaps with our joint trans-continental venture in exploring
our very own Roots adventure, with which I am sure all of you have been
given the extended presentation, or with the hours as his indentured PC
techie.
Or with the hours he spent listening to my children practice and
demanding more of them than their teachers ever did.
There is appropriately a coda to this. I was up at his apartment
yesterday afternoon trying to find some phone number. On a shelf behind
the Rolodex (the fabulous fifties Rolodex he kept despite his whole
hearted conversion to the digital age) I spotted the book “In the Penny
Arcade”, a book I think he actually took from me, but a story that I
kept because it describes a first visit to a place and for me the start
of a relationship.

Dennis  Lieberson
lieberson@ml1.net

In the late '70s Richard and I played a raft of gigs together with Matt
Glaser and/or Marty Laster, Marty Confurius, and Michal Shapiro on vocals. I
don't recall the name of the band, but The basic gist of the thing was
dropping jazz changes into bluegrass standards and of course, adapting jazz
standards to a bluegrass pulse.
It sounded kind of goofy at times, but it often worked quite well and I'd
like to think it laid a lot of the groundwork for a lot of other modern
bluegrass/jazz hybrid bands--although Richard himself would probably chortle
sarcastically and disavow any such thing; Richard was a natural-born
contrarian.
Still, it was a great springboard for me, and I felt truly honored to work
with him. There were a few up and coming cats that could play in both jazz
and bluegrass worlds, but no one seemed as thoroughly and authentically
grounded in those worlds as he did.
Somewhere in my boxes of music books, magazines, and software manuals I have
a couple of magazines in which I and other musical associates of Richard's
were reverently cited by well-endowed, yet oddly unappealing models in
esoteric poses.
There was a certain illicit thrill in seeing your musical style
deconstructed by a reclining nude unafraid of revealing stretch marks and
musical erudition at the same time. In fact, the record reviews (also
Richard's handiwork) in those magazines were informed, literate, and hip;
qualities missing in most mainstream magazines that purportedly dedicated
themselves to music.
I hadn't seen very much of Lieberson since those days, but recently, he came
down to a few bluegrass gigs I played in the Greenwich Village, and we had
some good laughs over those times. He'll be missed by a wider circle of
friends than he probably realized.

Marty Cutler

I'm guessing you're Richard's brother; like me, he never referred to
> his family members by name, but always "my brother" this, "my nephew"
> that, always with a half-cackle, because it usually involved something

> pretty ironic and funny (not infrequently involving teaching innocents

> subversive sentiments).
>
> I'd imagine Richard never mentioned me, because I am sure I was his
> least accomplished, most disappointing student. I'm older than I'd
> like to be, and discovered after I started taking lessons that neither

> my memory nor fingers worked the way I wanted. And although I always
> felt guilty about not being prepared, I kept going back week after
> week for the past few years (with time off for bad
> behavior) because studying with Richard was the single most enjoyable
> - and literally extraordinary - experiences of my recent life.
>
> He took me out of my daily "stuff" and put me back in my head at 15,
> when I was in love with music, basically learning a language, and
> having the thrill of coaxing it from a block of wood. He was a rare
> person in my life with whom I could share (without
> embarrassment) my love for the Great American Songbook, and who'd
> teach me to do things with and around it I couldn't do previously.
> And he loved it - or certainly appeared to. He'd lean close in to the
> page, write chord-melody treatments, hum his way through passages that

> confused him, pick up one of his Gibsons, play through, hiccup-stop,
> work it out, and continue writing.
>
> He was a great teacher, and though he didn't deserve  a lousy student
> like me, he never made me feel guilty, and just soldiered on,
> continuing to try to teach this reprobate something. Along the way, he

> introduced me to classic jazz musicians I'd never listened to,
> prompted my purchase of more music than I'd bought in my entire
> previous 49 years, and got me to listen in new ways.
>
> We also talked a lot about his loves and obsessions - I'm not sure
> there was a difference. Your family's history, leftist politics,
> pornographic 1940s comix, Jim Thompson, other pulp novelists, Sol
> Yagid, psychotronic movies, his air conditioner. In a way, it was okay

> I was an awful student, because we spent half the lesson talking
> anyway. (Besides, in Richard's approach, an hour never lasted less
> than 90 minutes.) He was the most unusual combination of cynical and
> sweet - he basically loved the absurdity of life (everyone else's and
> his own), which, when your life requires you to take everything
> moderately seriously (as mine does) is a real tonic. That or a psychic

> enema. Whatever - it worked for me.
>
> This runs the risk of making him sound a dilettante. Richard was
> anything but, of course. I'd been taking lessons for about a year, and

> he kept talking about this book he was working on. He knew that I'd
> been a writer and editor in my previous life. I casually would say
> "when you're ready show it to me," figuring it was never a real
> project, only a hobby, so I never had to fear actually seeing it.
> Then one day he sent it to me. It was with great trepidation I picked
> it up, figuring I'd have to work out euphemisms for "no good."
>
> So I was - and still am - astonished with the quality of the writing.
> The book's not perfect; I was never able to figure out some of the
> structural issues. But as a narrative, combined with a work of musical

> analysis, it is first-rate. If he'd wanted to, he clearly could have
> been a writer. (I can't judge music, but I can judge writing.) I loved

> talking with him about the book, but feel guilty - after the
> introduction to Oxford, to some literary agents, etc. - I couldn't do
> anything to bring this to conclusion.
>
> I suspect Richard never knew how important his lessons were to me. 
> I told him, but I'm pretty sure it didn't stick. He spent his time
> with musicians. But I'm an executive in a consulting firm. These hours

> with "East of the Sun" and harmonic minors and Coleman Hawkins' "Body
> and Soul" solo and Charlie Christian riffs were so removed from what I

> do that they were little short of therapy. I'd come back each week,
> and my wife would always ask, "So how was your lesson?" My answer was
> always the same: "Terrible. But I had a great time."
>
> I apologize if this sounds maudlin. I don't mean it to be. I simply
> treasure the time I got to spend with him. I think the measure of a
> life must be: did we bring joy to others? I'm only one person, but
> Richard brought joy, in a completely uncomplicated, soft, but
> otherwise profound way, to me.

Randall Rothenberg

I was a big fan of Richie's, ZT'L. The first time I heard Richard play was with The Central Park Sheiks, at The Texas Lone Star. I was immediately blown away by his guitar chops. In later years, I frequently heard him play with The Dixie Doughboys. Richard's playing was always impeccable and tasteful. His guitar playing and his encyclopedic knowledge of music were awe inspiring.

I am greatful for having had the opportunity to learn from   Richard at the Ashokan Fiddle and Dance workshops, where he was a  Guitar Instructor, 1986&1988. I thank Richard posthumously for sharing his knowledge with me. My deepest condolences and sympathy to his family and friends. The world has lost a great musical talent. Shalom Richard, my teacher.

Fred Skolnick

I met Richard in 1968, when we were both students at Bard College. He was universally known as "Little Richard," and was a formidable guitar player even then - also every bit as crusty and acerbic as in later years (possibly more). Richard did have his sentimental side, though. He and a friend once celebrated a milestone in my life by bursting into my dorm room very late at night (suitably attired in top hats), dumping onto my bed 100 identical copies of the - ahem - magazine Rich wrote for at the time, and running out. It was a memorable way to wake up. My girlfriend thought so, too.
Imagine my...delight when some years later I joined the ranks of Lieberson
acquaintances who were written into fictional profiles which accompanied photos in that exemplary publication. Unfortunately, his excellent music reviews went largely unread by subscribers who were certainly not buying that mag for musical enlightenment! 
I got a lot from Richard: inspiration in my own guitar playing, an open-door crash pad in the City, info and advice, and access to rare recordings like the beer-soaked, "A Pitcher Is Worth A Thousand Words".  A few years ago, he tapped me as an advisor on Jewish traditional practice and Hebrew spelling of Italian names, in an escapade that was vintage Lieberson. His standard retort when told that someone was a nice guy was, "Dime a dozen!"  Well, Richard was a nice guy (in his own way), but most assuredly not a dime a dozen. He was one of a kind.

Fishel Bresler 

The first time I heard Richard was on the radio in the early 70s, at which time he was the leader of the Central Park Sheiks. In subsequent years, I saw him play at various places around town—South Street Seaport (where, for a while, he played duets on the street with a country player named Tex), the Museum of Natural History, the Eagle Tavern, Armstrong’s Pub, Symphony Space, and other places that I don’t recall at the moment. I thought he had a great acoustic guitar sound and that his rhythmic concept was very engaging. And he didn’t really sound like anyone else.

In ’76, I met him at a guitar jam session through a mutual friend. Shortly after that, we began playing guitar duets--just for fun--when time allowed, as we lived in the same neighborhood and shared an eclectic interest in music. We played everything from tunes that Bob Wills played to tunes by Tristano and Konitz and Bach two-part inventions (in regard to the latter, Richard made it a part of his practice regimen--which included sight-reading from violin books--to play both parts of all 12 two-part inventions at least once a year).

Sometimes, before or after our sessions, Richard would play some video rarity that he had acquired from people all over the world: clips of Django Reinhardt, Wes Mongomery, Hank Garland, Thumbs Carlyle--he had everything. And his vintage pulp paperback collection was a sight to behold. He had on display hundreds of titles, some of which were hard to believe. For example, there was a cowboy mystery novel called Eat Dog or Die.

He told many hilarious stories of things that happened when he was growing up and during his playing jobs. Recently, he told me of an undemanding job he had a while back that he didn’t much like, which inspired him to do an experiment: He decided he would see if he could read a magazine (placed on a music stand) while playing his guitar. He said he succeeded.

Richard wrote a number of ingenious compositions, many of which are unpublished. One that I play as a warm-up exercise is a variation on “Sally Goodin.” He wrote some beboplike phrases within the tune, which somehow worked perfectly. Kind of tongue-in-cheek, but fun to hear and to play.

Thirty years after our first playing session, we were still playing every now and then. In recent months, it was an almost weekly event, which I looked forward to and prepared for. I called Richard to arrange a time to play a couple of days before his heart attack, and he said he was sick. I asked him if he thought he could play in a couple of days, and he said, “Yeah--I think so.” I waited for his call, which didn’t come. After not being able to reach him, I found out from his brother, Dennis, about the dire condition he was in. Unbelievable.

Richard was a good and generous friend, and I will miss him. RIP, Richard....Peter Arnold

Richard often played with the Dixie Doughboys, a band I led in the 
80's.  No one was better at humor on stage than Lieberson, like him 
pulling out a paperback and reading during my bass solos.  I could 
always depend on him to be totally honest about what was happening 
musically, and he was a very big influence on my guitar playing, 
especially rhythm styles of which he was truly a master.
My brother Billy & I were once mentioned in his Gem magazine copy, 
with one of the models saying she played western swing mandolin in 
the Tiny Moore style, and was wanting to get to NY and play with the 
"Chinese rhythm section", the Lang brothers.
Once on a gig an audience member asked Rich if we could sing happy 
birthday to Jim, and without missing a beat, he told them we only 
knew happy birthday to Bob.  Someone else that night asked Rich if we 
could play a slow song, so he could ask a certain woman to dance.  
Rich said we would play his request, but he still didn't think she 
would dance with him.  I think I tried to keep him engaged for the 
remaining breaks!

Bruce Lang
North Carolina

I met Richie Lieberson at Bard College.  It was I who gave him the home phone number of Reverend Gary Davis from whom he took lessons.  I had taken one lesson from Rev. Davis myself and I had gotten Davis' phone number from a friend of mine, Ernie Hawkins, who is an outstanding blues guitarist and was a great student of and personal friend of Rev. Davis.

Although I didn't know Richie well, I can only hope that his studies with Gary Davis were really good for him.  I found out about Richard's death quite accidentally during a recent conversation I had with Orrin Star and I was very sorry to hear about it.

I saw the Central Park Sheiks at the Childe Harolde, a Washington, D.C. bar, sometime in the 1970's and that is the last time I saw or heard Richie's work.

I thought he was a very cool fellow and a wonderful guitarist, even before I put him in touch with Gary Davis. ...

Tina Chisena

The first memory that comes to mind was enjoying the way this
quintessential New York wise guy put an audience through its paces
with the Central Park Sheiks.  I could only mentally gawk at his
chops and chortle at his acidic humor. If you were sensitive to both
music and NYC, definitely a loveable wise guy.  And admired by me.

I remember playing I'm Blue, I'm Lonesome with Richard back around
the time that Breakfast Special was happening.  For a folkie like me,
his harmonic combination of tomfoolery and high art gave me a peek
into undreamed-of musical vistas.  I wanted to thank him for the
experience, but I knew it would just earn me one of his hilarious
put-downs.

He once showed up at a summer guitar camp to take a class taught by
Jim Hall.  The class turned out to have about 30 beginners and
Richard.  You can imagine his reaction.  His interaction with the
camp bosses was short and to the point.  He got a refund.

And his captions in those magazines!  You couldn't make up that stuff.
Ah, well.

Stacy Phillips

So sad to hear about Richard's passing.I met him briefly in the early '70's through a fellow. His music showed a reverence for it's roots while expressing Richard whimsical humor. The Central Park Sheiks album was one of my favorites. I expecially enjoyed his song "Mr.Blake" The music world has lost one of its giants. John Gallerie

As far as I know, it was Richard’s own idea to call himself “Froggy”, after the trouble-making puppet character with the “magic twanger” on “Smilin’ Ed’s  Gang, a radio and television show from the 50’s. Froggy the TV frog and Richard both delighted in subversively letting the air out of anything in need of deflation.  To an audience at the Pinewoods Folk Music Club he explained, “... this evening we’re going to present a concert of swing arrangements of a number of Childe Ballads.” Indeed. Richard was an Upper Westsider, blessed with all the neighborhood birthright gifts: a wicked sense of humor, a searing sense of the absurd, a subscription to the Nation in his crib, soon followed by MAD and the Realist, and of course, Gem and BUF Swinger, the magazines of the family business.
We added the nickname “The Corrector”. As a musicologist and master practitioner of jazz harmony Richard rarely, if ever, worked with equals. We would offer our input, “...I’m usin’ a diminished chord”,  but more often than not he would half-in-humor, half-in-impatient-disbelief  raise his index finger and declare that whatever it was we thought was, in fact, “Not so!!” And he was almost invariably right. But for all his erudition, when once asked by a moldy jazz buff how someone with such a sophisticated ear could also like country music he growled “...I like the way it sounds!”
In 1972 I started playing with Richard’s bluegrass trio, The Clinton Avenue Cut-Ups. David Robinson played banjo. During that summer Richard went to a Western Swing festival in Oklahoma where he saw Texas Playboy alums, notably steel-guitar player Leon McAuliffe and met guitarist Eldon Shamblin. When Richard came back he was on fire 
about Shamblin’s style so the Cut-Ups lost the banjo and became the Central Park Sheiks.
The Sheiks first gig is captured in the photo on the cover of 
Richard’s book, Old Time Fiddle Tunes for Guitar. We’re squatting on a nasty-looking piece of ground out back of Alice Brock’s (of Alice’s Restaurant). Richard is front and center, Bert Lee on the left and I’m on the right. We were supplying music for the pilot of “Cooking With Alice” a cooking show that never made it. What did we sound like? Richard played an early tape of the band for his teacher, the legendary guitar master George Barnes, who said it sounded like “… the Hot Club of North Carolina”. Early Sheiks bass-players were Larry Katz, Danny Counts (who lived in Richard’s closet) and John Caruso, who played on the Sheiks only album.  Songwriter-guitarist Bert Lee, Fiddler Matt Glaser (who must have been 17 years old at the time) and bass-player Marty Confurius rounded out the 
“final” version of the band. Occasionally Carolyn Dutton replaced 
Glaser on fiddle.
Richard had very strong ideas about what he wanted to accomplish musically. This focus, coupled with intense research and a dogged, if not downright hostile resistance to what he considered deviations from his true course made working with him a “great learning experience”.  We all absorbed a lot more theory and harmony than we bargained for. As jazz violinist Matt Glaser has observed, every time we got together with Richard we learned something new. This was true in 1972 and it was still true in 2006. We made an album for Flying Fish and played our last gig at Cooper Union, May 25, 1977, opening for Hank Thompson. But Richard’s idea of a string band playing swing 
music with high virtuosity was at the very heart of the Sheiks from start to finish. There were a few attempts to revive the Sheiks as a more instrumental, less vocal band but these efforts gained little momentum. Richard  had clearly evolved beyond the band as a player and wanted to light out for wider musical territories. And he did.
Throughout all these years we were friends. Sometimes we were a bit like characters in “Marty” and “A Thousand Clowns”. The phone would ring, Richard would just start talking, and when he was through he would just hang up. In his later years he learned to say “Hi There” and when he was through, “OK” followed by a click.  When we went out of town on gigs, I would pick him up at his place, he would get in the back, open up the New York Times and say “...to the gig, James!” Until Marty Confurius joined the band, I was the only Sheik who knew how to drive. And until the family magazines finally folded, he would get me to help him schlep the mail-bag filled with the  latest issues of GEM and BUF Swinger down to the Main Post Office on 34th Street 
from whence they would be sent out to the magazines’ few remaining subscribers.
He was, at first, a young curmudgeon, carefully tending his hard-
boiled, never-satisfied image. But as others have observed, and 
Richard would vehemently deny, he was, just like the rest of us, a sentimental fool. For proof, one needs look no further than to his choice of tunes, always musically tasteful, with their sophisticated chord changes that would serve as grist for his fabulous chord soloing, but  also with their wistful curves of melody and haunting words that would send an unbidden but unmistakable pathos sneaking through his vulnerable, declining voice as he would line out a sad ballad for me to sing.
Richard continued to advance as a soloist and a scholar of early 
swing style guitar. Through the years he worked with numerous other fine players. His style was firmly rooted in the work of the great guitar pioneers he had studied but informed by Richard’s own fierce sense of intelligent taste.  He never played cliches or “licks” (well, sometimes, for a joke) or played “hot” just to be “hot”. From the beginning, what was good about his playing was immediately obvious to whomever might constitute the evening’s audience. But what was truly GREAT about  his playing could only be fully understood by the audience Richard really played for, the circle of intensely dedicated musicians, living and dead, the famous, the forgotten and the over-looked,  who know how hard it is to get it really right and know how nothing else in this world is as surpassingly sweet when you do.

Bob Hipkens

I knew of Richard for many years from his flatpicked fiddle tune book.
Not long after I moved to NYC in '94 I decided I wanted to learn some more
swing rhythm moves so I called Richard and arranged what turned out to
be a few lessons from him.  He was a good and generous teacher, and though
I haven't kept up with swing, the stuff he showed me for "Panhandle Rag" was
beautiful and something I still love playing (as well as occasionally teaching to
students of mine).
Other posters have captured his personality and essence very well.
I would simply like to add that his apartment was really nicely arranged
and appointed; it was like a little folk art museum with the aforementioned
paperbacks and music-related things all beautfuly displayed (not something
I would have extrapolated from his physical appearance).
Lastly, it should be mentioned that Richard was the formative guitar
teacher of Whit Smith (founder of NYC's Western Caravan, who moved to
Austin and went on to great success as leader of Hot Club of Cowtown
and now his own Bob Will's style band).   Orrin Star

I met Richard back in the 60's probably at Rev.Gary Davis' house.   I remember going to hear The Central Park Shieks a few times, and always admired Richard's talents and his ability to play different styles of music.  I regret that we never really got to know each other  and regret that we never became friends....Roy Book Binder

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Anybody else can send a note to benfreed@optonline.net to be posted here in memorial to Richard Lieberson.