A Real Corker At Jazz Plans To Take The Cake On His 80th
Sydney Morning Herald
Friday June 27, 2008
Don Burrows and James Morrison perform in Legends of Jazz at the Sydney Opera House on July 5. The Don Burrows 80th Celebration is in Ivanhoe, Victoria, on August 8.
DON BURROWS is determined to eat a slice of cake at his 80th birthday party. The Australian jazz legend missed out at his 70th, and his 75th, because he was too busy performing for guests.On those occasions, some of his musician friends offered to play at private parties at The Basement in Circular Quay. "The idea was great, except that all the groups from far and wide wanted me to play with them," Burrows says, chuckling. "I never left the stage and I missed out on my own birthday cake and dinner."It was with some trepidation therefore that he agreed to a public concert in Melbourne to celebrate his 80th in August. He plans to play a few of his favourite jazz tunes and leave the more exhausting pieces to the band. "I'm not going to play in every song, because it would knock me around too much," he says. "But it's just such fun for an old bloke like me to get together with young musicians."Before that show, Burrows will play a gig at the Sydney Opera House; a tribute to the jazz greats with the trumpeter James Morrison and his band.Burrows loves music as much as ever but suspects these will be his final public performances. "At this stage I am asking myself: 'Will I ever play in public again after this or will I just hit golf balls and go fishing?' "At 80, his fingers are twisted with arthritis. He has lived with the disease since he was 38, but in recent years it has become even more difficult to hit the right keys. "It's very stressful on stage because I'm always worrying about whether my hands will be OK," he says.To hit the right notes on his flute, he stuffs corks into its finger holes ("embarrassing, but necessary"). He will soon need a specialist to adjust his clarinet for his hands and may eventually limit himself to the saxophone ("easier on the fingers").Even as he discusses his limitations, Burrows is philosophical about the disability. "The arthritis certainly hasn't been good for my playing, but playing has been good for the disease," he says. "Even when I'm watching telly, I always have a clarinet in my fingers and it helps to keep them limber."He is teaching himself to play bass trumpet, which has three valves rather than a network of keys and finger holes. The trouble is, he is not quite strong enough to support it. "I have to support the bell with my left hand, and would you believe, I wear a gardening glove to make it more comfortable. It makes me look like the Claw from Get Smart," he says."But hey, you get on with life and you do what you can do."Burrows has always been one to make the best of a bad situation. He describes his first public performance as "a disaster from start to finish" and can barely speak for laughing as he remembers it.It was a talent quest at the local milk bar in Bondi, offering a quarter pound block of chocolate as the prize. Burrows was nine. Clutching his flute, he approached the elderly accompanist and told her he wanted to play The Stein Song, a German pub song popularised by Dick Powell."She blanched a bit, then she asked 'What key?' and I was so green I didn't know what she meant. We battled through in two completely different keys." He won, he suspects, "for courage alone".His big break came during World War II, when all the musicians of army age were in the services. At 16, he skipped school to perform for the troops in clubs and dance halls. "It was one part of the war effort that was left to young blokes like I was then and old blokes like I am now," he says.Jazz in those days was everywhere. Burrows has seen the genre's reputation change from "lock-up-your-daughters music" to dance hall staple to dated curiosity."The dance halls were the backbone of jazz, but that scene doesn't exist anymore," he says. "I'm a bit of a dinosaur, but that's all right with me."
© 2008 Sydney Morning Herald
