Johnny Knapp
Johnny Knapp is a jazz pianist/accordionist who is originally from New York City and now resides in the greater Atlanta area. As a young child, Johnny had the misfortune of contracting polio but this did not deter him from perusing his dreams of becoming a top notch musician. In the process of learning his chops and paying musical dues, he overcame the obstacles that he was dealt with to become a major part of the New York jazz scene. Some of the artists that he worked with include: Miles Davis, Billy Holiday, Carmen McRae, Sheila Jordan, Tal Farlow and many more. Although jazz was his love, he excelled in ethnic music, classical music and other genres as well. Johnny had the misfortune of being at the wrong place at the wrong time as he was at the Ambassador hotel the day Robert Kennedy was assonated. Throughout the trials and tribulations of the music business along with his health issues, Johnny is a classic example of overcoming adversity. At the age of 90, Johnny still plays functions and will occasionally show up at an open mike. I recently had the pleasure to talk to Johnny Knapp about his storied career.
R.V.B. - Hello Mr. Knapp. Robert von Bernewitz from Long Island... how are you?
J.K. - Good... yourself?
R.V.B. - I'm doing pretty good. We have a very nice day going on here today. How is it down there? I'm hearing it's getting a little warm down there already.
J.K. - It's very nice. Tell me about yourself.
R.V.B. - I was born and raised in Smithtown on Long Island.
J.K. - I lived in Valley Stream.
R.V.B. - I have some friends over there.
J.K. - Valley Stream has that fresh water lake. I also lived in Brooklyn in East New York. We used to go out to Valley Stream to get treatment on my legs. I had polio when I was two.
R.V.B. - Did you grow up in Brooklyn?
J.K. - Yes... but I was born on Delancy Street. At the age of two, I got infantile paralysis. They took me and put me into a place with 8,000 people because they thought it was contagious. They put me into an armory because they thought that you could spread it by mouth... or breathing... or blood... or touch.
R.V.B. - Was the armory in Manhattan?
J.K. - Yes... in New York. They asked the doctor, where could they go to keep me healthy. The doctor said "The country." So my parents moved to Brooklyn.
R.V.B. - It's amazing that Brooklyn was the country back then.
J.K. - It was farmland. We lived on the last stop. It was New Lots Avenue. That was the last stop.
R.V.B. - Was it a nice place to grow up?
J.K. - It was a Polish/Czech community. On the other side of Blake Avenue was the Jewish neighborhood. It was very good at the time. Then the turf wars began, then we moved. We lived across the street from a park called "Kitzel Park." They called it "Giggle Park" because the guys would take the girls out there and try to make out... and the girls would giggle. On the next block was a doctor who was trying to help a young kid become a comedian, and his name was Danny Kaye. It's a small world.
R.V.B. - I gather that you had a mild case of polio. You had trouble walking but you could still get around?
J.K. - No. It was just the opposite. I had braces up to my hips and I had to use crutches. It controlled the whole left side of my body. But fortunately, you had to eat, so the hands would reach for food... and polio is such that if you can get it moving, you can kinda offset it. I couldn't move my left side but I could move my right side.
R.V.B. - Did it improve at all during your lifetime?
J.K. - No. It stayed the same. My legs are atrophied... even now. So my left leg, under my hip, is atrophied. I was able to use the right arm and the left arm to play the piano. At the age of 12, I started to play the accordion.
R.V.B. - You had one around the house. You kinda picked it up on your own?
J.K. - The women used to sing in the back yard. My mother - believe it or not - used to tie me on the fire escape, because they used to believe that the sun could help you. One day when I was tied up to the fire escape, my mother brought me the accordion. She said "Why don't you play for them?"That's how I learned, how to play music.
R.V.B. - Did you start with ethnic songs?
J.K. - It started off with Polish songs. I would play and the women would sing. If I didn't get out there early enough, The women would yell out "Joooohhhhnnnny... Joooohhhhnnnny." Then I'd have to get out there and play. One day, one of the women's husband’s was there. He was the owner of the Polish Ravens Hall. It was a very big building for Polish events. He said, "Maybe we'll bring Johnny in one day to play for the men at the bar." So I went there to play, and I came home, and gave my mother
$11. I told her that she would never have to work again.
R.V.B. - So that was your first professional gig.
J.K. - Yep.The first professional gig. At that time, rent was $20... so $11 was a lot of money. Milk was 9 cents, bread was 8 cents, eggs were 7 cents. Little by little I started to play more and more accordion.
R.V.B. - Did you have any childhood friends?
J.K. - Not really. Nobody wanted to really play with me, because I was crippled. I couldn't play games. Later on, when I started to play good accordion, I hitched up with a guy called Eddie Heller... who played guitar. Between us both, we would do things like classical music - Brahms and Beethoven - and people would hire us to play at parties. He would accompany me, and I would play all the melody. He was very good. I wish I would have used him more. He was also disabled like me, so we got along. We figured that us two disabled people could fight the world - and make it - and we did! We made a lot of money and things worked out well.
R.V.B. - What a nice story. Did you have anyone to help you along with music theory?
J.K. - In those days, I used to go to the movies a lot. In between films at the movies - since there was no TV or supermarkets - there would be still's... if you want to buy chicken, buy it here. Then they would put on another still... if you want to buy bread, buy it here. Then they'd put on another still... if you want to play music, play it here. So I got a telephone number from the music advertisement and I got my father to call these people... and they came over to the house. I played for this guy and I can remember him now. His name was Nick Sammons. He had one of those thin Italian mustaches. I never could believe how thin it was. I played, and my father said "Well... what do you think?" He told him "His timing seems pretty good. Oh course he doesn't know what he's doing! He didn't know how to read music." My father said "No... I don't mean that. I'm asking can he play. Can he make a living at it?" The guy they sent over the house to see if I could play accordion turned to my father... he says "Mr. Knapp look!" He raised his leg and what did he have??? a brace! He said "I have the same thing your son has. I'm married... I got children... I make a living... I play weddings... I play teaching." Of all the people, God sent someone who had the same problem I did. So my father invested the money for me to learn how to read music.
R.V.B. - What a fateful day that was.
J.K. - It changed my life.
R.V.B. - Is there anything that he may have showed you that may have stayed with you throughout your career?
J.K. - I remember that he gave me "Sharpshooters Waltz." That was done and dedicated to James Braddock, who was the boxing champion at that time. That was my first song.
R.V.B. - How many years did you have lessons with him?
J.K. - About three. This was in my late teens. I was around 16/17. I was born in 1928.
R.V.B. - Do you remember anything about World War II?
J.K. - No... but I remember we used to play a game called "Three Steps off of Germany" when we were kids. My parents were from Czechoslovakia. When I was born, they couldn't speak English. When I went to school and learned how to speak English... I would teach them when I got home. They were kind of gullible. They knew a doctor who claimed that he could help me. He told them he could cure polio. They had to come up with $15,000. They had four to five people whose children had polio. My mother and father worked two jobs, for over a year and a half to get close to $10,000. I lived with my neighbor. When my parents got the money to give to the doctor to cure me, the doctor took the money and ran away.
R.V.B. - That's horrible!
J.K. - He used all the gullible people... took all their money! I never saw my parents for a year and a half.
R.V.B. - There are bad people in this world. Which high school did you go to?
J.K. - My neighbor, who lived on the next block, went to Franklin K. Lane. He talked me into going to Franklin K. Lane... which was terrible! Four blocks away was Thomas Jefferson and Franklin K. Lane was 15 miles away. I had to take trains and busses... but he talked me into it. But it ended up pretty good because when I was in Franklin K. Lane, I learned how to play organ, and I was head of the jazz band. When the graduation came around, I wrote the arrangements for the graduating choir... and the band. I don't know if I would of got the same thing in Thomas Jefferson. Thomas Jefferson won a lot of basketball championships. Maybe I would of did better, but that's life... that's the way it goes.
R.V.B. - So you got a balanced musical education there.
J.K. - Yeah, I think so too. Incidentally... do you play anything?
R.V.B. - Yes. I play the guitar... semi-professionally.
J.K. - I see. Later in life, I worked with a marvelous guitar player... Tal Farlow. At one time he was considered the best guitar player in the United States. He stopped playing at one point because he ended up being a drunkard. He married the wife of either Lerner or Loewe, who made Gigi, My Fair Lady and a lot of other plays. She had a lot of money. He retired and eventually decided to come out of retirement. He worked in a place called The Framis which was on 63rd St. and 2nd Ave.It was a high class, high society place. You could get the best Eggs Benedict in the world there. That's how good the kitchen was. We worked with Paul Chambers, who played bass with Miles Davis. When Tal came out of retirement, every guitar player in the world came to this place,including guys from China, Japan and all over, because Tal was that good. He was a marvelous player. I worked with him for eight months and everybody used to come in... Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker... and I met all these people... and worked with them, later on. They changed the name of the club to Buddy Rich when he bought the place.
R.V.B. - After high school, did you go right to work?
J.K. - What happened after high school... some kid came around the block and said "Do you want to play real music?" I said "Yeah!" Now I could read. My first song was Sweet Sue. Before you knew it, I was playing for my church... playing for polkas, czardas, mazurkas and weddings... and playing everything on the accordion.
R.V.B. - At that time, the accordion was a very popular instrument.
J.K. - It was the only instrument. When I got to be 18, there was a thing called the "Jazzmobile"... where I got to play with parts of Woody Herman's band... parts of Count Basie's band. They would go around to Harlem - and they had no pianos - because they couldn't keep pianos in tune. So they hired me on the accordion. So I learned how to play jazz on the accordion, playing with all these great people. We would go round to different neighborhoods, and I was acting as the piano player.
R.V.B. - That's a good - on the job - education.
J.K. - The best in the world! How could you learn better when you play blues with everybody... Count Basie's band…. to play with Flip Philips... to play with Pee Wee Erwin... Bunny Berrigan. I was a young kid!!!
R.V.B. - Did you realize the enormity of this at the time or was it happening so quickly?
J.K. - Happening so quickly. I was playing in a place in Brighton Beach - near Coney Island - called The Pink Elephant. There was a guy there who wanted to play saxophone... and he was terrible!!! The fella's in the band said "Listen, we can't let you play... you sound so bad." So he went home and studied. When he came back, he became Herbie Mann... the great flute player.
R.V.B. - He sure made a lot of records.
J.K. - He used to laugh at us then. "Now you wish you could play with me." The piano player at that time - Bobby Scott - wrote a song that landed on the Billboard charts A Taste of Honey. I took over for him and little by little I became a piano player. The accordion couldn't do it. I took a job in the Catskills. There was some good shows because they had no piano players. They had an accordion player but he couldn't cover all the shows. When I left the Catskills, I went to look for a teacher in New York. I joined the union at that time and as I looked up for a teacher, on the letter A was Clarence Adler. I went to see him, and by this time I was making a lot of money on accordion. Now I was working society jobs... I was working for Lester Lanin... I was working at the Waldorf. Even there I had to play accordion. I got to be the best of friends with Clarence Adler. His son... Richard Adler... who wrote Damn Yankees, from Broadway. Clarence Adler's teacher was Godowsky, who studied from Liszt. So it went from Liszt, to Godowsky, to Alder, to me.
R.V.B. - Your 4th removed from Franz Liszt. That's pretty high class lineage.
J.K. - You bet your ass.
R.V.B. (Hahaha) So it wasn't one specific defining moment that made your career... it gradually happened. During this network period, you were basically entrenched in the jazz genre?
J.K. - No. I made more money in the classical end of things. There was an unusual band in New York - of 16 musicians - who could play any song... in any key... at any part. In other words, they had a guy who played 1st saxophone, 2nd saxophone, 3rd saxophone, 4th saxophone, 5th saxophone... without music. Their ears were so good, they could play all the parts;the same thing with three trumpets, two trombones, and a guitar. They had a piano player, and they had me. We were so good that every day we worked with a different leader. They would say we were his band. One day we would be Lester Lanin's and the next day we would be Bugs Walters. It was every day of the week....at the Pierre... the Plaza. We made the top money... and I was in that band. I eventually worked with Skitch Henderson. When Skitch got up from playing to talk to people, I played piano. So I got to be a very good society player. When I was older, I used to work Birdland. For a while there, I was the house piano player. I didn't make much money, but I played with everybody.
R.V.B. - Who were some of the people that you played with?
J.K. - I played a few dates with Miles. I worked with Maynard Ferguson... I worked with Johnny Richards... I worked with Sarah Vaughn and Carmen McRae. I worked with Billy Holiday at Basin Street. There was a place that would put on shows with different artists at the time, and I would work with Billie there. I worked with every singer in the world. Little by little, I got good experience... I was a good player. I could play in 20 languages, on the accordion. I was doing Greek albums... I was doing Turkish albums... French albums... Indian albums... Italian albums. I played all the ethnic work. I would play all the club dates, but my heart was into jazz.
R.V.B. - Did you see some of the other classic jazz pianists play at the time?
J.K. - I saw Oscar Peterson play many times. I knew the players in his band. He was the best player that existed next to Art Tatum.
R.V.B. - Did you pick up anything from him when you watched him play?
J.K. - Not really. What really made my career was that I played accordion before I played piano. I ended up having so much technique on the accordion. All the accordion solos were 16th notes. I had a marvelous right hand. I could play as fast as anyone. Because I didn't play typical left hand - even till today - I'm still playing piano. I'm still doing a lot of recitals, and explaining music. Do you know Hampton Hawes?
R.V.B. - I know of him.
J.K. - I always played like Hampton Hawes. He was a very, very busy technical piano player. My right hand was that good. I had all the speed on the right hand from playing accordion. I was playing the left hand - what they called - "in another tempo." I could play right handed in 4 and left handed in 5 time simultaneously. I had a different style than most piano players. Even now - when I go around the country playing, I play these things. That's what people look for.
R.V.B. - You mentioned that you did a lot of recording. Did you have any different feeling with the red light on as opposed to a live performance?
J.K. - You mean the pain in the stomach??? Of course!!!- Everybody has it. Even the ones who don't have it, have a little apprehension about being locked down. What happens is, the more you play, the less you have. If I was recording three or four times a week - by the time I got down to the fourth time - I didn't have the pain in the stomach. I was fortunate, I lived on 71st Street... on West Side Drive. I had what they called a parking permit, because of my polio. There was a guy called Hank Jones... who is probably one of the better jazz piano players around. Not only one of the better players around, but one of the better recording players around. The thing is, he was so independent that a lot of times, he just didn't go to the record date. If he wasn't there a half hour before the date, they knew he wasn't coming... so they would call me. So from 71st Street - which was one block off the West side highway - I could go down to 46th street - where all the recording studios were - inside of 15 minutes. I could park in front of the building because of my parking permit... and run in there and do the record date.
R.V.B. - Were the studios around that area different from each other or were they basically the same?
J.K. - They're all the same. I all depends on who the head guy was. If he wasn't a musician, he was a little nicer. If he was a musician, he was a pain in the ass... because he knew what he wanted. Most guys who owned the recording studios, always respected musicians because they would make their money off of them. They were easier to get along with.
R.V.B. - You had a little association with Bill Evans?
J.K. - When I was getting to be a good player, I would get good work. Bill Evans would be my substitute... believe it or not. I worked a place called "Page 3", for about 15 years. When I took my break, he would play piano for me. Not only that, when I was working at the Framis - with Tal Farlow and Paul Chambers - a lot of times I had to take off to do these club dates, that paid a lot. I would get the guys from the Village Vanguard, to fill in on piano... Bill Evans, Dave Frishberg, Don Sebesky... One day I couldn't find anybody, and there was this new kid in town. So I called him up and I said "Would you play for me?" He said he was very happy to. His name was Chick Corea.
R.V.B. - Boy did he make a name for himself with his fusion style music.
J.K. - The next day when I went back to work, I asked Tal how he did? He said "Well, he was no Johnny Knapp, but he did pretty good." Then naturally, Chick got bigger and bigger.
R.V.B. - Did you ever dabble in avant garde style music?
J.K. - A little bit, but that wasn't my cup of tea. I still believe, if you can't tap your foot to a tune, you're not really swinging... and I love to swing. To me, it's still the most important part of playing. As I got older, I found out I don't have to play as many notes... or play as fast as I used to. So I started playing more tasty. That worked out better, both on the accordion and the piano.
R.V.B. - What made you decide to move to the west coast?
J.K. - I had friends who were over there and they said "Listen, you could work more here, doing recordings and movies, than you can on the east coast. We had a lot of friends, who were also moving. You know how it is, when my wife is happy with somebody, and she wants to do things - and it didn't really matter to you that much, if I was working on the east coast, or working on the west coast - what's the difference? After we were on the west coast, someone called my wife - one of those sons of the people that used to see me play in the jazz mobile - when I played accordion - his son grew up and became head of the jazz department in Georgia State. He asked my wife Dee, to be head of the vocal department. She accepted the job, so we moved back from California to Atlanta. People said "Hey... how are you doing out there?" I said "It doesn't matter. If you play good, they'll hire you anywhere." Right???
R.V.B. - That's true. I understand you had some association with Liberace.
J.K. -While I was working all of the jobs, I also got involved with Gabe Dell. He was part of the Dead End Kids. The company had actors, singers and comedians. There were a bunch of night clubs that were considered "She-She." All the stars that were on Broadway that couldn't get work, where working for the clubs... like Hal Holbrook... Tom Poston. People would come in there, like Irving Berlin and George Gershwin. They would go in looking for singers. One of the entertainers at this place was Liberace. We used to make fun of him... call him Lib-er-race. He'd laugh. He said "You could laugh all you want but I never see you guys at the bank depositing any money." He was right. He was making money and we weren't. We were being smart alecks. I looked at Liberace and said to him "You're a marvelous piano player. Can you loan me some of your candles?"
R.V.B. - Hahaha
J.K. - He thought I was always friendly so we got to be friends. He was a marvelous piano player and really a very nice guy. Everybody knew he was gay but no one ever said anything. If you treated him with respect, he would be very nice.
R.V.B. - From the 50s through the 70s, he was the highest grossing entertainer... I believe.
J.K. - I was talking to a friend the other day. He lived in Las Vegas until 2010. He used to go to shows every week. He said "The best entertainer of all of them was Liberace." He had the women there. Let's face it, if you get the women there, you got it. If you get the women out there, they get the men and now you got both. It's hard to get the women. Men will go anywhere with another man... a woman wouldn't. But I'm happy that jazz is still around. Atlanta is a black town... it's not a white town. When the 50s came around, I always used to complain to everybody. I would say "Here we are working a wedding. We play for three hours and forty five minutes. For 15 minutes this guitar player comes out and sings, and makes as much money as we do." the son of a bitch! I hated rock... I still hate rock! The worst thing is in the future, he's gonna come out and play for three hours and forty five minutes and we're gonna play regular music for 15 minutes.
R.V.B. - What comes around goes around.
J.K. - If you do, do a wedding and they come into the room, the first half hour they end up playing music for the older people and then all of a sudden they start changing. The kid comes out with the rock music. It got to the point, where I had to play rock music. I played Play that Funky Music White Boy. I could play a lot of different rock things. But at that time I had an accordion, that was also a computer. I could put the accordion on the floor and it would become an organ... so I could play rock with the rock people. This synthesizer would work and the accordion would not. I worked with one guy called Forrest Perrin. One day he had 10 to 15 fashion shows at one time in a building. Now that's a lot of money. We had drums, me on the organ, and a guitar. They would keep us in the building. We'd have a fashion show for clothes, a fashion show for gloves, a fashion show for perfume, a fashion show for bra's, a fashion show for panties, a fashion show for shoes... they had a fashion show for everything. I made a lot of money with this guy Forest... who was a piano player. He couldn't play his own jobs, because there were no pianos around. I was right in between the time of pianos only to electric pianos, but I was able to do it on the accordion.
R.V.B. - What brand accordion did you use? Did you change it up through the years?
J.K. - I changed it. I eventually became the spokesman for Iorio. They would put my picture in the paper. Before that I used a Pancordion. The guy used to work for Excelsior, then he decided to start his own company. Then they put a computer into the accordion, and that was Iorio. The minute he did that, it changed my life. Now I could play all of this rock music. I would go around the country doing shows for him. I would use guys from Woody Herman's band - and other people - to play jazz... because I had so much chops. I would get Ray Brown to play bass for me and Mousey Alexander to play drums. These guys worked with everybody. They were the best in the business. I could go out and play anything I wanted to. I loved it. It was a great life.
R.V.B. - I can imagine. I understand that you were there at the hotel when Bobby Kennedy was assassinated. What was your experience there?
J.K. - The Ambassador Hotel was a place where they did a lot of Hasidic music. To play Hasidic music, you have to become a specialist. You just don't play Hasidic music. So every once in a while, I would go to the Ambassador and play that music. They had that kind of kitchen. I'd go to see my friends, if I wasn't working. One day I went there. I never went through the lobby, because people would say "Who are you with?" So I would always go through the kitchen. It was easier to get to the rooms where the bands were playing. One day I was walking through - like I always did - and a guy stopped me. He said "Sorry sir, you can't go through." I said "It's OK, I'm a musician. I go through here all the time." He said "You Can Not Go Through!!!" I looked beyond there and I saw someone on the floor. Then more people came and they moved me back. I noticed people were talking to each other but I didn't think about it. I went into the car - and was driving home - and they mentioned Kennedy got shot at the Ambassador. Then I got scared. All of a sudden I had to stop the car. It occurred to me that it's possible that they never caught the guy... and that he was there. I could of got shot. I really thanked God that I lived through the whole thing. It was scary. I had no idea what was happening.
R.V.B. - In your travels, I guess that you ran into the mob here and there?
J.K. - Wo-ho-ho!!! Did I ever run into the mob???? There was a guy that we were playing for - Jerry Monaco - that my wife was teaching how to sing. I would play for him. One day he turned to me and said "You know I've been playing with other piano players. Would you like to play for me exclusively and make money with me?" I said "Well, if the money is there... yeah I'm interested." Anyhow, he took me down to this place in Brooklyn. Let me show you how naive I was. When I was younger, I never did anything, because my folks would never let me get involved with it. They were always afraid because I couldn't walk. I didn't even have a chance to make it with women. So I never knew too much about anything. So I went to this place in Brooklyn and there's a guy sitting down. They said "We'd like to introduce you to John "The Knife." I said "How do you do Mr. Knife?"
R.V.B. - Hahaha
J.K. - I really thought his name was Knife!!! (Hahaha) That's how naive I was. They said "The kid likes you." I said "That's very nice... I like him." They said "He wants to get a piano payer and we want to know if you want to play with him?" I said "Yeah... that'd be great." He said "OK...that's it." he puts out his hand to shake my hand. I shook his hand and they take me back home... I lived in Yonkers at the time. My wife had family who worked doing the numbers, in Brooklyn. She knew the mafia. I told her what happened. She said "You didn't sign anything?" I said "No. I shook his hand." She said "Oh, Oh... you're in trouble." I said "What do you mean?" She said "You shook his hand! That means you just signed a contract... get on the phone right away and tell em' that you cannot honor the contract! Tell em' you got home and your wife is pregnant, and she doesn't want you to be involved with any contracts because she knows it will take you away from home." I called the number of John "The Knife" and there was no one there and I leave a message. I said I cannot honor the contract. I told him everything my wife said. In a half hour I get a call, "We want to meet you outside of Nathans in Yonkers at 11 o'clock at night... in the parking lot.
R.V.B. - Oh boy!!!
J.K. - Yeah... oh boy!!! Dee says again "You're in trouble. We don't know how bad but you're in trouble." I said "What am I going to do?" Dee "What do you mean... you gotta go there Johnny." "Should you go?" Dee "No!!!"So I go down there and two guys come up. They say "John Knapp?""Yeah." They shake my hand. The other guy grabs my hand and says "We've been told to break your fingers." I said "What are you talking about?" They said "You broke the contract!" I said "I didn't do anything... I didn't even play for the guy." He said "You shook John "The Knife's" hand. As we left, John said to break your fingers." As we were ready to leave, John said "Remember he had a broken leg? Someone already broke his leg. Leave him alone."
R.V.B. - Whew! You got lucky.
J.K. - He thought my leg was broken by anther mobster.
R.V.B. - They don't mess around.
J.K. - No!!! I also worked in a place called "The San Su San"... which was in Mineola. The San Su San was owned by the same people who owned The Copa. Every once in a while they would have the kangaroo court there. The kangaroo court is like a regular court but instead of a judge, they would have three high guys of the mafia. Guys would come in and say "I've had 23rd Street under my jurisdiction and John Doe has come in and is making money in my area. I want them to get out." The kangaroo court would say "Hey! This is the way it is." Whoever it was would have to listen... or else. One day I was there and one guy comes by and said "Are you Joe something or other?" That other guy says "Yeah." He knocks him down on the ground and steps on his face. He says "That's what you get for buying my wife a drink without asking me." I could see the blood coming out of his face. I thought "Holy shit!"
R.V.B. - Right in downtown Mineola.
J.K. - Yeah... downtown Mineola... on Jericho Turnpike. It was a big place. Mickey Mantle would come in there often. All the Yankees would come in... as a gift. They had this one guy John, who ran the place... he used to run the Spanish Palladium on 51st Street. He was very nice to the bands. Every day, he would have the band sit in the main room and order anything they wanted to off the menu. So the band on Saturday - during intermission - we'd go into the kitchen and wash the dishes... because he was so nice to us. If friends came in to sit in with us - during the week - he would give them a meal for nothing too.
R.V.B. - That's a good perk.
J.K. - We loved it. Consequently, we had great musicians. We had Tony Russo... his brother... who ended up being the guy for one of the country clubs... Gene Venobe played the piano. I played the piano. In the beginning, the band used to do our own shows. Later on, they would bring in people from the Copa. They would go from the Copa to us. We played the best shows in town.
R.V.B. - I understand you worked with Sheila Jordan.
J.K. - 15 years.
R.V.B. - She's very nice. She lives up in the Kingston area... by me.
J.K. - Yes... she now lives up there. She used to live on 18th Street. Her daughter used to work for Stevie Wonder... maybe still does. Sheila and I met at Page 3. We had Steve Swallow on bass, Ziggy Willman on drums. It was on Monday nights and it was great. We were the stars in New York. Anyone who came into New York and wanted to do jazz would go down to Page 3. It was run by a lesbian and a homosexual. The homosexual would run it during the week and the lesbian would run it on the jazz nights. Since I was a piano player on the jazz nights, all the good singers would come in... Mark Murphy, and other people. Carmen McRae would come in. Sheila and I got to be best of friends. Sheila and I taught a class at City College together. I worked there with Sheila until I left to go to the west coast. Sheila got a little worried because I was teaching all the technical things. Shortly after, she started working with just a bass player and became worldwide known. She was performing all over the world with only her and bass. She ended up using the bass player to help her teach at City College. Another guy - John Lewis - was teaching there was part of The Modern Jazz Quartet. So we were in good company.
R.V.B. - What was the atmosphere like at Page 3?
J.K. - It was like the "Hell hole of Calcutta". It was run by a homosexual and a lesbian. They were not there only to entertain but for another $15 you could grab a girls breast and other things. It was very cultured jazz wise but it was also very far out. They were finally closed down by the FBI. One of the girls who worked there grabbed the guy by his testicles. They had cameras and they were able to close the place down.
R.V.B. - As far a touring - playing festivals and jazz clubs - did anything ever go wrong at any particular gig?
J.K. - No. The reason is - I don't know if you know me - I was always soft spoken. Now that I'm older you can't tell. I never made any waves. The thing that made me get along so well in the business is that I never did make waves. I used to work a program called Guiding Light. One day the producer said "Schwartz, Rabinowitz, Cohen, Knapp... this is an all Jewish program. What is this Knapp doing here?" I said "I'm Knapp! You couldn't get a Jew to work this hard, for so little money!" He'd break up and say "You're right!" And that's what I was doing... I was working for a little money. When I worked at Birdland, I worked there for nothing. I worked as the piano player. If they had a festival or something - and people had to come in early and they didn't have anyone to play for them - I'd play for nothing. Money didn't matter to me. I was always easy to get along with. I made a lot of money, but it wasn't because I demanded it. Maybe it was because I had polio and I was thankful. Even now, I'm thankful to God. What matters to me is the boss.
R.V.B. - I see that you played the Newport Jazz Festival. How was that experience for you?
J.K. - Great! Because my son was with me... my wife was there. She knew Duke Ellington, so she could say hello. I could meet other musicians and have fun. I really enjoyed it. I played a few other festivals with Sheila.
R.V.B. - What are you proud of in your life in music?
J.K. - That I could help other people get better at what they do in music... because of me.
R.V.B. - In a teaching standpoint or a performance standpoint or both?
J.K. - A little of both... but more from a performance standpoint. I didn't mind teaching for money but I liked that I could give to people what they didn't expect. Say if I was working at Birdland, There's a little partition difference between the average public at Birdland and where we performed. When I would get off my set, somebody would come over to talk to me. I could spend a half hour just talking to that person... about what I played or how to get work. This would be in a non teaching environment. I never thought about it but all the people I helped were disabled. I was really in a good position to help people and I think that's the greatest thing in my life. Even now... I'm still looking. How can I help people.
R.V.B. - In a non performing aspect, has anyone that you've heard stand out as a listener.
J.K. - To me, it didn't matter what kind of music it was as long as it was good. I didn't care about the title. It could be Hungarian Rhapsody people as long as it swung. I did see Dorsey… I did see Glenn Miller... I did see Benny Goodman. Dorsey was probably one of the best musicians I ever heard. He played so well. I have a few questions to ask you. How old are you?
R.V.B. - I'm 59.
J.K. - Are you a practicing musician?
R.V.B. - I'm a semi-professional musician and I play approximately five to six gigs a month. Tomorrow I'm playing a solos gig for the Veterans at the local VA hospital. I play an assortment of rock standards.
J.N. - Do you play weddings?
R.V.B. - I have played weddings. I dabbled with jazz but I played bass. I normally play the guitar. I'm in numerous bands... very active in the local music community here on Long Island. I play with a lot of different people.
J.K. - Are you married?
R.V.B. - I am. My wife's name is Dagmar.
J.K. - DAGMAR!!! WOW! Do you know who Dagmar was?
R.V.B. - She was in the movies. I think she had a role opposite Frank Sinatra once.
J.K. - Your Dagmar? Is she that big?
R.V.B. - Nooo! She's big like the car Dagmar's though.
J.K. - Hahaha. That kind of Dagmar. Do you teach?
R.V.B. - I have in the past but not at the moment. I'm busy with my music projects and my music web/zine. I also collect vinyl albums.
J.K. - You're a music junky. I'm 90 now. When I was 79 it occurred to me that I've been saving coins, records and books. What the fuck am I saving them for?What else is going to happen to me? I had 50 10" jazz albums. I found out that my 10" records were valuable. My friend sold them on the internet for me. I got $1,000 for five records.
R.V.B. - They must have been good records.
J.N. - There was one record for $500. I sold another for $700 of the Bird. I'm giving the money to my son.
R.V.B. - Very nice. My wife is getting a little annoyed of the room I'm taking up with my music collection.
J.N. - Hahaha. You're running out of room in the house. Do you have children?
R.V.B. - I have a son and a daughter. My daughter is dating a police officer and my son did a tour in the Air Force.
J.N. - Are either one of them musically inclined?
R.V.B. - Neither one of them are. It was a pleasure to hear your story and you have to be proud of what you've accomplished.
J.N. - I'm very happy. When my wife passed away, two years ago, 20 people took meto the side and told me that they loved me... they told me that they're gonna take care of me and for two years, that's what they've been doing. It's so nice to have all my friends take me out and take care of me. Life is nice and people are nice. I'm just very thankful.
R.V.B. - Can you tell me a little bit about your wife?
J.K. - Her name was Azzinaro. She was always very musically inclined. When she was four years old, she would go and see Nelson Eddy and Jeanette McDonald... stay there and catch three movies on Saturday - come home - the parents would put her on the table and she would sing the whole score of the movie. She would love to sing. They used to call her Dolly... so much that when she was not a Dolly, they used her initial to become known as Dee Knapp. She was also to the Dagmar school. She told me she never saw her knees since she was nine.
R.V.B. - Hahaha
J.K. - She was very attractive, built very well and was a great singer. Little by little, she was studying singing and knew enough about it so she could teach privately and at a college. We had one boy and even though he was very talented and studied music, he never took it up. He's ended up becoming a landscaper... who lives in Raleigh, North Carolina. I have to tell you one interesting thing. About five years ago, there was a guy I met here called Colonel Bruce Hampton.
Bruce was known for how he has affected a lot of rock players, to play jazz... and to play in good taste. All of a sudden in the last five years, he's kind of resurrected my life. Everyone who had forgotten Johnny Knapp, got to know me again because of Bruce. He was telling them about me in my old life. It started my second generation. The only thing that's bad, Bruce just died, this last May. Part of my resurrection is gone with him. We'll see what happens. I'm still playing. I have some in person performances and other things that are happening. I'm very happy with everything and I still have my health. I can still keep on going.
R.V.B. - I'm happy for you. I'm happy for your life in music. Thank you very much and enjoy the rest of your day. It was a pleasure to speak with you.
J.K. - Thank you Robert and take care of yourself. God bless you and stay healthy.
Interview conducted by Robert von Bernewitz
This interview may not be reproduced in any part or form without permission from this site.
Special thanks to Cindy Bell
For information on this site contact Robvonb247(at)gmail(dot)com
Fantastic!!! Thanks, Johnny....thanks also to you Cindy Bell. Great interview! Now i know who Johnny Knapp really is. A great and long overdue interview. God bless you all. Bill.
Posted by: Bill Fielder | 06/27/2018 at 09:37 PM