Jazz Condition -- UPI Arts & Entertainment

Jazz isn't getting any younger; neither are its master musicians. The music, though, is a necessity and in some cases seems to be an energizer.

Vibes player Lionel Hampton played well into his 90s before his passing last year. For at least the past decade he'd shuffle step slowly or be wheeled on stage. Then he'd take up his familiar post and grin behind his instrument -- and play with the art and enthusiasm of a much younger individual.

This is not something one could call simply The Hamp Phenomenon, and it was proven earlier this month at the spring edition of the 10th annual Cape May Jazz Festival in New Jersey's southernmost resort community.

Cape May boasts a boardwalk, miles of beaches, and block after block of Victorian gingerbread homes, many of which double these days as bread and breakfast establishments. The spring and fall editions of the festival, attended by thousands, help extend the local tourism season.

While the past few festivals were tributes to late jazz greats, including trumpeters Miles Davis and Dizzy Gillespie, this spring's festival was a tribute to one of the living masters: trumpeter Clark Terry. He was feted by his peers on the opening night and made many appearances throughout the weekend at other events and performances.

Terry has suffered for at least a decade with a variety of physical maladies, including chronic back problems, diabetes and vision difficulties, for which he's had more than 20 operations. On stage, he plays seated on a high, chair-backed stool to which he is escorted with care by his longtime alto saxophonist David Glasser. When not on stage, he generally travels via wheelchair.

Once he puts his trumpet or flugelhorn to his lips, however, the former Duke Ellington and Count Basie sideman -- and one of the first African-Americans to perform in Johnny Carson's New York "Tonight Show" band, is the Clark Terry his longtime fans have loved. He still plays with brilliance, bursts of beautiful, burnished melodic notes, and great humor. These combined elements make his sound recognizable instantly.

Village Voice critic Gary Giddins' "Weatherbird" column published last Dec. 16, two days after Terry's 82nd birthday, correctly described the horn man as "living with courage and style, and still playing with a gleaming ingenuity that spits in the eye of mortal ailments."

As Terry's opening night first set began, with special guests James Moody and James Faddis expanding his usual quintet, eight of the festival's headliners, hand-picked by Terry to perform that weekend, honored him with poignant and often hilarious reminiscences.

Valve trombonist Bob Brookmeyer recalled how he'd call his friend, Clark Terry, whenever the music brought him into New York. During one such weekday call a decade ago, Terry was moaning and groaning about his maladies, including his back. Brookmeyer said in spite of it all, he told Terry he still wanted to get together and see him. That wouldn't be a problem, Terry told him. "I'm playing at the Village Vanguard this week."

Suffice it to say Terry played his butt off that splendid night in Cape May.

Two other festival headliners also were getting around town -- and in one case on stage -- in wheelchairs.

Longtime Basie Band saxophonist, arranger -- and a leader after the Count's death -- Frank Foster suffered a stroke two years ago that has slowed and debilitated his walking and left side mobility, at least temporarily, though he continues his therapy and recovery. When he does walk, it's slowly with a quad-cane.

Foster conducted his impressive Loud Minority big band from his wheelchair. Pointing to the group, he told the audience, "For now, this is my saxophone." And never missing a chance to add some humor, added, "After the way James Moody played last night, I'm not sure I'll ever pick up the horn again."

Organist Jimmy McGriff, who has multiple sclerosis, was also wheelchair-bound when not at his Hammond B-3 on stage at one of Cape May's packed little after-concert venues, Carney's, with his blues-drenched quartet.

For these three gents, and others, it's all about the music. Jazz energizes them. It's like breathing is for the rest of us. It's what they do. And they still do it well.