When it comes to banjo, there are people who love it, people who hate it, the middle ground, and last but not least, an army so devoted to increasing the professional possibilities of this instrument that were it to become an official organization, it would be called something like the Banjo Expansion Army. To the latter force, this particular banjoist from the '20s is an important figure, but before any propaganda points can be scored on his behalf, it will have to be decided once and for all how he spells his name. Is it Pingatore or Pingitore? It is for sure Mike, although he has been listed as Mick on both album jackets and in some very legitimate musical references. Ditto for the "i" or "a" mix-up, it shows up both ways with the regularity of a spelling test that is about to be given a C-minus grade. If one was an immigrations officer, one would assume that there were four different banjo players who worked for the likes of the Paul Whiteman Orchestra and composer George Gershwin and their names were, well, you know. But the reality is there was just one man, the likelihood is in the 90 percent realm that his name was Mike Pingitore and he accomplished plenty on his instrument before vanishing into a mist that envelops certain banjoists. (His brother, Eugene Pingitore, also a banjo player, went to Australia on the other hand). Adamant banjo supporters are proud of the fact that the instrument was a had-to-have item in the standard jazz rhythm section in the '20s, so of course it held a proud place in groundbreaking jazz combos such as those of Duke Ellington, Fletcher Henderson, and Louis Armstrong. Since many of the musicians in these bands were called on to backup classic blues singers such as Bessie Smith and Ma Rainey, this also created a spot for the banjo in that genre as well. Less thrilling, of course, was the trend to switch from banjo to guitar just when the jazz juggernaut was really taking effect, a decision that struck banjoists of this time with the regularity of the bubonic plague in the Middle Ages. Soon, the banjo was as rare in a jazz rhythm section as a harpsichord player in a heavy metal band. And if a banjo does show up for a jazz gig, it leads to one destination: Dixieland, with the banjo going plunkety plunkety. Paul Whiteman had to have a banjo in his group and his banjoist was Pingitore, who was a member of the leader's very first group, the Ambassador Orchestra, in 1920. Although Whiteman sold a lot of records and was certainly popular and respected, he created a type of music that few other artists eventually seemed to want to copy. If this had been different and musicians had been as quick to copy Whiteman as they were the black big bands and jazz combos, then perhaps things might have been different for the banjo in jazz. Duke Ellington's banjo player Freddy Guy was a typical jazz rhythm section banjoist in that his only function was to keep time, apparently because for a long time he was the only member of the rhythm section who could. Whiteman, on the other hand, thought the banjo was a fascinating instrument and needed to be used for more than just a weird-sounding metronome. He particularly liked the way the plucked sound of the banjo, emphasized when it is played with a plectrum, can have the rich sound of an entire section of violins playing pizzicato, or plucking the strings directly with their fingers. Whiteman designed pieces for Pingitore that allowed extended solos and many chances for the banjo to create ear-grabbing musical effects. One such Pingitore vehicle was Linger Awhile, often held up as a landmark in plectrum banjo playing. The most important credit the banjoist had by far was his association with George Gershwin and the premiere of his composition Rhapsody in Blue. Arranger and composer Ferde Grofé, who quite likely lodges permanently somewhere in most listeners' ears via his Grand Canyon Suite was an important connection here, as he was the keyboardist in Whiteman's band and also did arranging work for Gershwin. His influence over Rhapsody in Blue seems also greater than merely arranging, as he is credited with convincing the composer not to omit the entire middle section, sometimes considered the best part of the work. It was Grofé who included a plectrum banjo part in his orchestration for the 1924 premier and Pingitore who played it. Or was it Pingatore? He performed primarily with Whiteman, but almost camped out at recording studios during the '20s because of his credits on so many recording sessions. Much of this was with vocalists. He recorded with smoothie Bing Crosby, classic blues artist Rosa Henderson, and took part in some of Billie Holiday's most inspired recordings, although by then he had switched to guitar. On the jazz instrumental side, he was also associated with trumpeter Bix Beiderbecke and has shown up on more than a dozen of this artist's releases, playing both of his instruments. Frankie Trumbaur and Jack Teagarden were other important jazz artists of this era who included the banjoist on recording sessions. Whiteman lead trumpeter Henry Busse had Pingitore on his 1925 session, recorded under the band name Busse's Buzzards, and notable for the presence of jazz violin giant Joe Venuti. There is very little information about the banjoist's activities from the '30s on. His brother, Eugene Pingitore, also made recording history in the mid-'20s as a banjoist in Ray Tellier's San Francisco Orchestra, which released some of Australia's very first commercial recordings of jazz, the first of which was done with the cardboard disc process. Sources indicate Eugene stayed in Australia, but the reasons why he was there in the first place, why the Australian band thought it was in San Francisco, or whether the entire Pingitore family is Australian, are all mysteries. -The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz, which could have cleared up many of these questions as well as the spelling issue, remains muffled on the subject, ignoring the man completely. Which is very likely part of a conspiracy against the jazz on banjo, according to the B.E.A. ~ Eugene Chadbourne, Rovi