The Hat with the Grin and the Chuckle

Dr. Ben Thomas is an impossible musician to forget, once he makes a first impression. This is the case whether you are witnessing his virtuosity on the vibraphone in a jazz or Brazilian music setting or performing in a tango ensemble on bandoneon. There is the music of course, with melody and harmony seemingly exiting his instrument in free flight, pushing aside time and space and settling in as something as natural as the air that fills the very same room. Then there is that energy, focused yet unencumbered, joyous in nature and engaging in so many ways.

My first encounter with Thomas was the same as many music fans around the city of Seattle-seeing him at the virtual center of the Jovino Santos Neto Quinteto. He was receiving, directing and delivering sound as quantities of beauty, in a constant and beatific conversation with the Brazilian pianist, all under the watchful eye and the discerning ear of the master on bass, the great Chuck Deardorf. I was just becoming familiar with the music of Jovino and his spiritual connection with the master Hermeto Pascoal. Frankly, I was in the room to see Deardorf, knowing anything the bassist was engaged in HAD to be good. It most certainly was.

As it turned out, Thomas was on the staff at Cornish College of the Arts with both Jovino and Deardorf, along with drummer Mark Ivester. He had replaced the splendid multi-reedist Hans Teuber as the main melody instrument in Jovino's eclectic Brazilian jazz quinteto, and in the process, transformed it into something slightly different, but wholly wonderful. In getting to know Thomas over the years and becoming friends, I learned that energy, that positive, intrinsic connection to the complexity and the simplicity of eternity was real, raw, unfiltered and congruent throughout his persona within and apart from his identity as a musician. As a musician, that flame burned brightly whether swinging hard like the jazz vibraphone masters who came before him, or playing traditional Argentine dance music in a tango band on an instrument that seemed to be the diametric opposite of the vibraphone. Vibraphonists do tend to play a lot of notes, just as free verse poets tend to use a lot of words-yet Thomas has learned through his immersion in popular dance, and in the bandoneon, to be more refined, to utilize space as a common traveler. You can hear the progression upon listening to the series of six albums he has authored on the Origin Records label. The common thread through abrupt changes in style and cultural attachments is having the open space to truly express his imaginative figures in the moment as an improviser. Being that the bandoneon literally runs out of air and must be replenished, restarted, is the physical constraint that enabled a mental and spiritual liberation.

"It really changed me as a vibes player, it made me think about phrasing, ending notes, all those things that we don't think about as percussionists," cites Thomas concerning his fascination with the instrument.

The move to exploring tango music as a virtual full time companion to his jazz playing is rooted in dance and the fact that he is a percussionist-something that can be lost when adding harmonic and melodic aspects to the art of rhythm. After all, Dr. Thomas has a Masters degree in contemporary improvisation and a PHD in percussion performance-or as he prefers to put it, "I have a Masters degree in making shit up, and a Doctorate in hitting things."

While Thomas' musical identity as a jazz vibraphonist is steeped in the tradition of Milt Jackson, Gary Burton, Bobby Hutcherson and in modern times, Joe Locke, his embrace was wide open, much like his welcoming spirit as a human. At one point he was playing timbales in a salsa band at the Century Ballroom on Capitol Hill. Realizing that learning dance himself would make him a better percussionist, he began salsa dance lessons and then moved on to the tango. He came upon the realization that tango dance was much more reliant on improvisation, a principle common to both musician and dancer. The door was open to exploring that form on the vibraphone and percussion, but also on the bandoneon-essentially a large concertina with buttons on both sides capable of playing a wide range of notes, chords and harmonies.

The entire experience led to a broader understanding of the rhythmic complexity and value in all of the music he played. The dance and the music were feeding against each other, revealing the oneness of it all. The universal lesson in that concept was not lost on Thomas. The music on his latest Tango Project album, The Hat With the Grin and the Chuckle displays these factors plainly. The eight Thomas originals are immaculately performed by Thomas, sensational clarinetist Eric Lickkel and instrumentation that features two violins, bass and piano. Pianist Gabe Hall-Rodrigues, violinists Elizabeth Phelps and Laura Coronel and bassist Steve Schermer bring to life the bandleader's vision of musical and cultural openness.

For most members of the Seattle jazz community, Thomas is that centerpiece, that intuitive partner of pianist Jovino Santos Neto's marvelous, can't miss ensemble. While the pianist and vibraphonist are responsible for a large portion of the sparks that fly during one of their many performances in the area, there are factors perhaps unknown to the audience that have raised the bar for the band, and for Thomas himself. Drummer Mark Ivester and worldly percussionist Jeff Busch are large factors without a doubt, but for the band's ebullient vibraphonist, bassist Chuck Deardorf looms large, even after his sad passing in 2022. While bassist Tim Carey has courageously filled the bass chair in the band with refined excellence, Thomas' relationship and friendship with Deardorf has a gigantic presence in Thomas' musical, professional and personal life.

Besides being a bandmate, and one of the finest jazz musicians to ever grace the city of Seattle, Deardorf was a colleague and mentor to Thomas at Cornish in the first degree. "He was my biggest mentor that wasn't a teacher-I probably learned more from him than any teacher I've ever had," recalls Thomas. As a bandmate onstage, he was a guiding presence. "He was the subtlest and the heaviest person on the stage." says Thomas with a wistful smile.

Deardorf had a way with people before close engagement occurred, something easier to accomplish than one might have surmised. It was Miles Davis vibe territory, not being sure if he liked you or not and not being quite sure how to approach the legendary bassist. Being colleagues and then bandmates, Thomas maneuvered through that divide through many hours and miles of carpooling around the western United States. There was always a message. "We became close, but I never got over the intimidation thing onstage," he says. Deardorf had a way of giving a look, a nod, some sign of his approval or disapproval of a musical moment on stage. In Jovino's band, he set up directly behind the vibraphonist, leading Thomas to think his mentor had laser beams for eyes penetrating the back of his head. Those who knew the masterful Chuck D can relate, smile and remember one of the most important and beloved figures in the history of music in Seattle.

Through all of these explorations of form and function in music, jazz vibraphone is home for Thomas, his default setting. Yet he is open to that which he may encounter on his journey, or what others may offer on their personal musical sojourns. He's ready to engage, he always has been.

"I've worked to take advantage of as many situations as possible. Written chamber music, improvisation, dance music. I've tried to set myself up where I can play in as many different situations with as many different people as possible."