Tony: Winter of a Kentonite

Last night Tony Campise, who played with the band Monday night on wobbly legs, fell in his Corpus Christi hotel room soon after checking in. He never made it to the stage of the Texas Jazz Festival, where he was booked for a couple nights he had stretched to a 4-day hotel stay.

There was certainly nothing wrong with his playing Monday at Ruta Maya. But he was a little more edgy than usual, even accusing me of misrepresenting the hours of the gig. (He subsequently looked in his book and cleared me of all charges.) But, he had to be helped onto the stage and he was having an intestinal struggle.

Tony and I might go back further, I suspect, than anyone in this town. The Kenton band played in Santa Cruz in 1974, when Tony was the alto player and leader of the saxophones. My college band, the Cabrillo Jazz Ensemble, opened the show, and I was lucky enough to hang with some of the guys. I subsequently joined the band, but just after Tony left.

Since I moved to Austin I’ve played with Tony many times, not enough to get alienated by some of Tony’s quirky habits, nor he with mine. He was the first guy I called when I was setting up the recent demo session. I knew he’d cost more than any of the other guys, but I also knew he was worth it. Tony was on his very best behavior at the session, playing a couple torrid solos and helping the band through some rough spots.

I always try to mix generations, because the best results happen musically when the energy of youthful enthusiasm is tempered by the example of experience. That day, Tony was the éminence grise to all of us, and particularly to a young trombonist originally from Houston called Ulrican Williams, who shared with me a story of the day that Tony spoke to the kids at his middle school. That long-ago day Tony filled Ulrican with something that he’s been chasing ever since, culminating with him playing on the same recording as Tony.

I feel like the same thing happened to me, 35 years before, in Santa Cruz.

At 4 this morning it was determined that the fall had caused fluid to fill Tony’s brain which would need surgery to relieve. It’s now 7 pm as I write this, and we haven’t word of Tony regaining consciousness yet.

We have another gig at Ruta Maya Monday, one for which I’ll need to hire a tenor player.