Biography
It would be erroneous to suppose that the life story of the philosopher John Cali—who maintains he can serve as a conduit for the spirit of a long-deceased Native American leader—holds greater intrigue than the experiences of the string instrumentalist who shares his name. Those conversant with the histories of journeyman players might even interpret the latter’s participation in upwards of three hundred sessions spanning 1920 through 1962 as evidence of dullness. Such a conclusion would be entirely misplaced. When an individual’s own ideas prove sufficiently compelling, there is no necessity to relay the thoughts of another. The trajectory of Cali’s professional life alone attests to an unusually fertile intellect. He attained mastery of the banjo and guitar while also documenting performances on mandolin and lute, traversing stylistic frontiers on every instrument with the exploratory drive of a seafaring Norse adventurer.
Among banjoists active during the 1920s, few contributed meaningfully to the early formation of both jazz and country music. On guitar he is acknowledged as an originator of jazz playing techniques, a distinction reflected in the inclusion of two selections by him and his duet partner Tony Guttoso on Yazoo’s landmark anthology Pioneers of the Jazz Guitar. “Hittin’ on All Six” registers as a revelation to listeners across the Midwest, while “Satan Takes a Holiday” stands alongside works by Judas Priest and Mozart in its imaginative deployment of diabolical imagery. Cali’s approach to the lute produced fusions so unconventional that even the most audacious hybrid appears conventional by comparison. For the album Mazel Tov, Mis Amigos! he performed over a Latin rhythm section featuring pianist Charlie Palmieri, timbales specialist Willie Rodriguez, and Ray Barretto on congas and bongos; the project, credited to Juan Calle & His Latin Lantzmen, transformed “Beltz, Mein Shtele Beltz” into a pachanga and “Papirossen” into a mambo.
An eccentric moniker and the company of exceptional colleagues remained recurring features throughout a career that secures Cali’s place in American music regardless of the stylistic direction one examines. He entered the recording studio at fourteen, guided by none other than Thomas Edison, and rendered “Ja Da” on one of the earliest cylinders. Years afterward he joined the celebrated final sessions of Jimmie Rodgers, supplying guitar alongside steel guitarist Tony Colicchio on tracks many devotees regard as Rodgers’s finest. The performances carry particular emotional weight because Rodgers, already gravely ill and recording to provide for his family, delivered exceptional results under dire circumstances.
Any random selection from the lengthy roster of ensembles Cali joined yields an inventory of distinguished musicians and ensembles. The Arkansas Trio united him with Vernon Dalhart, the celebrated early recording artist who helped establish the cowboy song and country & western idioms. The Windy City Jazzers may or may not have included both Dalhart and Cali on banjo; scholars disagree, yet the very possibility of Cali’s involvement draws favorable comparison to Harry Reser, the historic banjo virtuoso renowned for executing any composition, however intricate. Lanin’s Southern Serenaders placed Cali beside a youthful Jimmy Durante and Miff Mole in 1921; Mole and Cali later collaborated again in the Tennessee Tooters with trumpeter Red Nichols. Clark Terry and Doc Cheatham also appeared as guests on the aforementioned Yiddish-Latin fusion recording.
Few undertakings surpass the sheer curiosity of the ocarina solos by Bernie Ladd supported by Cali’s guitar, a disc whose titles—“Potato Salad” backed with “Sweet Not Sour”—evoke an appealing midday meal. Another guitar duet with Guttoso, “A Study in Brown,” would presumably appeal to Butthole Surfers’ Gibby Haynes, who long nurtured the idea of issuing a two-record “Brown Album” collection. In later decades Cali served as a freelance mandolinist and guitarist for both the Metropolitan Opera Company and the New York Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra.
Among banjoists active during the 1920s, few contributed meaningfully to the early formation of both jazz and country music. On guitar he is acknowledged as an originator of jazz playing techniques, a distinction reflected in the inclusion of two selections by him and his duet partner Tony Guttoso on Yazoo’s landmark anthology Pioneers of the Jazz Guitar. “Hittin’ on All Six” registers as a revelation to listeners across the Midwest, while “Satan Takes a Holiday” stands alongside works by Judas Priest and Mozart in its imaginative deployment of diabolical imagery. Cali’s approach to the lute produced fusions so unconventional that even the most audacious hybrid appears conventional by comparison. For the album Mazel Tov, Mis Amigos! he performed over a Latin rhythm section featuring pianist Charlie Palmieri, timbales specialist Willie Rodriguez, and Ray Barretto on congas and bongos; the project, credited to Juan Calle & His Latin Lantzmen, transformed “Beltz, Mein Shtele Beltz” into a pachanga and “Papirossen” into a mambo.
An eccentric moniker and the company of exceptional colleagues remained recurring features throughout a career that secures Cali’s place in American music regardless of the stylistic direction one examines. He entered the recording studio at fourteen, guided by none other than Thomas Edison, and rendered “Ja Da” on one of the earliest cylinders. Years afterward he joined the celebrated final sessions of Jimmie Rodgers, supplying guitar alongside steel guitarist Tony Colicchio on tracks many devotees regard as Rodgers’s finest. The performances carry particular emotional weight because Rodgers, already gravely ill and recording to provide for his family, delivered exceptional results under dire circumstances.
Any random selection from the lengthy roster of ensembles Cali joined yields an inventory of distinguished musicians and ensembles. The Arkansas Trio united him with Vernon Dalhart, the celebrated early recording artist who helped establish the cowboy song and country & western idioms. The Windy City Jazzers may or may not have included both Dalhart and Cali on banjo; scholars disagree, yet the very possibility of Cali’s involvement draws favorable comparison to Harry Reser, the historic banjo virtuoso renowned for executing any composition, however intricate. Lanin’s Southern Serenaders placed Cali beside a youthful Jimmy Durante and Miff Mole in 1921; Mole and Cali later collaborated again in the Tennessee Tooters with trumpeter Red Nichols. Clark Terry and Doc Cheatham also appeared as guests on the aforementioned Yiddish-Latin fusion recording.
Few undertakings surpass the sheer curiosity of the ocarina solos by Bernie Ladd supported by Cali’s guitar, a disc whose titles—“Potato Salad” backed with “Sweet Not Sour”—evoke an appealing midday meal. Another guitar duet with Guttoso, “A Study in Brown,” would presumably appeal to Butthole Surfers’ Gibby Haynes, who long nurtured the idea of issuing a two-record “Brown Album” collection. In later decades Cali served as a freelance mandolinist and guitarist for both the Metropolitan Opera Company and the New York Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra.
