By Matt Schudel
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Freddie Hubbard, a Grammy-winning trumpet player whose powerful, dramatic solos were a strong influence on a younger generation of jazz musicians, died Dec. 29 at Sherman Oaks Hospital in Sherman Oaks, Calif., of complications from a heart attack. He was 70.
From the time Mr. Hubbard came to New York from his native Indianapolis in 1958, he was hailed as a trumpet virtuoso of almost unparalleled gifts. He appeared with many leading jazz figures, including John Coltrane, Ornette Coleman, Sonny Rollins, Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter, and released a string of well-regarded recordings throughout the 1960s.
He had a series of popular albums in the 1970s, including "Red Clay" and the Grammy-winning "First Light," but ill-conceived forays into fusion and electronic music turned critical opinion against him.
In 1992, Mr. Hubbard injured his lip, all but ending his career. He made several poignant comeback attempts in recent years, including a new album released six months ago, but mostly they served to remind listeners of the huge talent that had been silenced.
"During his lengthy prime, Freddie Hubbard embodied excellence in trumpet playing," critic Ted Panken wrote in Down Beat magazine in 2001. "He had a big sound, dark and warm, almost operatic."
Early in his career, Mr. Hubbard was seen as the heir to such trumpet kings as Dizzy Gillespie, Clifford Brown and Miles Davis, borrowing something of the style of each. He had a bold, clear tone and a dynamic technique that combined lyricism, speed and inexhaustible vigor.
"Hubbard projected the persona of trumpeter-as-gladiator, an image of strength, force and self-assurance," Panken wrote.
His early albums for Blue Note, such as "Open Sesame" (1960), "Ready for Freddie" (1961) and "Hub-Tones" (1962), immediately established him as the preeminent new trumpeter of his era.
Mr. Hubbard often said he tried to play more like a saxophonist than trumpeter, bringing a richer range of harmonic and rhythmic expression to his music.
"I thought trumpet players weren't able to express themselves as freely as saxophone players," he said. "Playing like a saxophone is harder on the chops, but it opens you up."
He was a major figure in the mainstream bebop tradition and spent three years as a member of Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers, a group that was a major incubator of jazz talent for 40 years. He was also in bands led by Quincy Jones and drummer Max Roach in the mid-1960s.
At the same time, Mr. Hubbard was sought out by more avant-garde musicians and appeared on many landmark recordings, including Coleman's "Free Jazz" (1960), Oliver Nelson's "Blues and the Abstract Truth" (1961), Eric Dolphy's "Out to Lunch" (1964), Coltrane's "Africa Brass" (1961) and "Ascension" (1965), and Hancock's "Maiden Voyage" (1965).
From 1966 on, he led his own groups and composed several tunes that have become part of the jazz repertoire, including "Little Sunflower," "Red Clay" and "Up Jumped Spring."
"He influenced all the trumpet players that came after him," trumpeter Wynton Marsalis told the Associated Press several months ago. "He has a big sound and a great sense of rhythm and time. . . . His playing is exuberant."
Frederick Dewayne Hubbard was born April 7, 1938, in Indianapolis. He played several brass instruments and took lessons from the first trumpet of the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra.
He lived near guitarist Wes Montgomery and by his mid-teens began dropping by for informal sessions. His earliest influences on trumpet were Chet Baker, Fats Navarro and Clifford Brown, but by his early 20s he had already found his mature style.
"I played a very loose, elastic style of playing," Mr. Hubbard told the Associated Press last June. "I use a lot of slurs, different moves. I advise any young trumpeter not to do what I did, because that style could be hazardous to your health."
In the 1970s, he moved to California and made a series of jazz-rock albums that sold well but damaged his credibility among musicians and critics. Nevertheless, he continued to capture flashes of his early brilliance until 1992, when he developed an infected blister on his upper lip that burst during a concert in Finland.
It never fully healed, and Mr. Hubbard -- who was hampered by excessive drinking and drug use and lost a home to unpaid taxes -- could regain only a shadow of his early form.
"My style of playing hard all the time caught up with me," he told the Boston Herald in 2001. "I overworked and burned myself out."
An early marriage ended in divorce. Survivors include his wife of 35 years, Briggie Hubbard; and a son.