Musical Family Tree asked several local jazz musicians to reflect on the legacy of David Baker, who recently passed away at the age of 84.

Baker practicing at home in Indianapolis in the late 1950s. (Photos courtesy of Monika Herzig, author of "David Baker - A Legacy in Music" as well as a colleague, former student and family friend.)

David Allee, musician, owner of the Jazz Kitchen, Indy Jazz Fest director

David was one of the most underrated musicians of the Indiana Avenue era. He had it all — street cred, doctoral diplomas. [He was] a genuine guru, a sensai of jazz, if you will. I personally am always amazed by how much David could accomplish. Composing, performing, teaching, touring and much more. One could argue that jazz may have died if it were not for David’s ability to show the way in making jazz studies an avenue for so many to contribute to the art of jazz.

Personally, his involvement and support of the Jazz Kitchen since its inception in 1994 is special for me. No matter how busy he and his wife Lida were, they always had time to share their knowledge, both on stage and off. As time went on, we collaborated during Indy Jazz Fest for a Freddie Hubbard tribute. His firsthand knowledge and superb writing were the perfect fit. Just a couple of years back, we were honored to be a part of a community celebration saluting David on his 80th birthday.

Everyday I see the mark of David Baker. His students are musicians, teachers and fans that are expanding the music. He will be dearly missed but never forgotten. R.I.P. David.

Baker with guitarist and friend Wes Montgomery.

Ben Lumsdaine, member of Sophie Faught Trio, Diane Coffee, Spissy and Mike Adams At His Honest Weight

David Baker had my back and supported my ideas when I felt very alone and confused during my last year of school. Knowing I had his support was a serious comfort. He was egoless and made time for every student. John Coltrane lived at his house for a time. That's crazy! Rest in power DB.

David Singley, musician

I've been trying to come up with one David Baker story, and it's really difficult because there are so many to tell!

I was the first guitarist to be admitted into the master of jazz studies program at IU, and the first guitarist to be an associate instructor in the jazz studies department. I spent three years in his ensemble, all thanks to David's belief in my talent and ability.

He was incredibly gracious and kind when meeting my parents for the first time. I remember that it was shortly after my father had had a second heart operation and David's concern was obvious and genuine. My parents were charmed.

And like other students, I remember being admonished "no flat 6's on a minor 7 chord!" more than once. I also remember being called on "interesting note choices" more than once.

But, for now, what really comes to mind is the time that, probably in my third and final year at IU, David started chiding me (in his own, inimitable, profane fashion) to "stop playing those licks outcha book! Play you! Just play you!” Of course, I was horribly confused as it had taken me 2+ years of practice to play those “licks outcha book” in all keys and at any tempo, and now he yelled at me for playing them? I’m glad to report that, as the years went by, I became more and more aware of what he was really trying to tell me, and more and more grateful for such a profound and enduring lesson.

The dean of jazz.

A secondary story to that one is about five or so years after graduating, I set up a private lesson with David when I knew that I was going to be passing through Bloomington on my travels. We spent 2+ hours in his basement going over exactly the kinds of things for me to practice to reach that mythical, mystical goal of “just play you.” While I may not remember the exact details of what that entailed, I will never forget the spirit with which they were conveyed, nor will I ever forget the essential humanity and compassion being bestowed upon me that this heavyweight of jazz education felt it vitally important that I learn how to speak from my soul through my instrument!

God bless you DNB (as we sometimes called him, but never to his face)! You were truly one-of-a-kind! May you reunite with the Montgomery brothers, and J.J. and Dizzy and all the rest. I think I can hear the laughter from here!

Baker with fellow Indianapolis trombonist J.J. Johnson in 1988.

Joel Tucker, musician

I remember my first interaction with David Baker. It was my freshman year. I was carrying a trombone, a guitar, an amp, and a bag full of pedals, and I was really hustling to get to class on time. I got to the MA and started frantically pressing the elevator button because I was running late. I heard an "ahem" and looked behind me to see David Baker standing there. He crossed his arms, and with a stone cold face said one of his famous lines... "You know, you can really judge a man’s intelligence by how many times he pushes the button on an elevator."

I was mortified. I'm pretty sure I looked like a ghost. I couldn't think of a single thing to say, and my only thought was, "Great, David Baker thinks I'm an idiot and now I have to ride in this elevator with him while carrying all this crap." Well, we got in the elevator and he asked, still with that stone cold face, "What floor?" I responded with a timid voice, "...Fourth please." He looked at me, grinned from ear to ear, and started pushing the fourth floor button over and over.

I always felt comfortable around him after that.

Miriam Sosewitz Clarke, musician

David was so incredibly generous of a spirit. As a young, classically trained flute player, he stoked my love and discovery of jazz, allowing me to change my major to jazz studies in my senior year. It must have been obvious that I would not become a great jazz player, but he gave me all the tools I needed to play sessions with authenticity, and he encouraged me with respect. Even more than that, he reinvigorated my relationship with music, and the flute in particular. Forever grateful.

The composer David Baker in the early 1970s.

Nick Tucker, musician

I first learned of David Baker when I was a student at the University of Indianapolis. The then director of jazz studies, Harry Miedema, always spoke very highly of David. I have the utmost respect for Harry, which translated to a great admiration of David. I remember a photo Harry had hanging in his office of jazz legends. I don't remember everyone who was in it, but among them were Harry, John Clayton, Cannonball Adderley and David Baker. The photo was from the ‘60s or ‘70s, and everyone had on bell-bottoms and colorful shirts. I remember thinking, "These cats are the real deal.”

After UIndy, I went on to apply to IU to get my master’s degree. When I went down to audition, I had no idea what to expect. After my audition, David pulled me aside and said something like, "Your brother (who was already studying there at the time) told me you were coming, but he didn't tell me you could play!" I made it into the top big band (David's band) the first semester and kept my spot in the band every semester I was there. David was not only extremely knowledgeable about the music we would play, but he always had stories and anecdotes about the great players themselves. He would randomly say, "Yeah, this one time I was at Trane's mom's house for dinner," or would talk about growing up with Freddie Hubbard. Or his story about his interaction with Monk.

After my first year of school, David took me to the Steans Institute at Ravinia to study with him, Rufus Reid, Curtis Fuller and Nathan Davis. This was an amazing opportunity for me, not only because I got to study with them, but because I met amazing players my age from around the country that I have added to my list of professional contacts. That alone is extremely valuable. One of the other students got me my first university teaching gig. I got to meet Wynton Marsalis that week as well. Speaking of teaching, everyone in the field of jazz education owes a great deal to David. It was his work, along with Jamey Aebersold, Jerry Coker, and others, that paved the way for jazz to be a respected form of art music. If it weren't for him, I might not have the job I now do teaching jazz bass full-time at Ball State. I owe him a great deal, and I will miss him.

Baker Laker: The man, the basketball fan.

For another great reflection on David Baker’s legacy, head over to NUVO and check out this piece by Kyle Long.