Joe Farnsworth Plays ‘The Big Room’

Interview, From the Magazine, Joe Farnsworth

By Allen Morrison I Sep. 23, 2025

Always a sharp dresser, Farnsworth wears a pocket square given to him by trumpeter Art Farmer. “You need to look good if you want to hang around me,” Farmer told him.
(Photo: Osmel Portuondo Azcuy)

When he was 12 years old, the hard-swinging veteran drummer Joe Farnsworth had a fateful encounter with his idol, Max Roach, the bebop pioneer. Prior to that, Farnsworth had already been playing drums and attending jam sessions in and around his hometown of South Hadley, Massachusetts, thanks to his four older brothers, musicians all. As a budding young drummer, he had been emulating Buddy Rich and Sonny Payne of the Count Basie Orchestra. He used to play along with the Count’s “April In Paris.”

“Then my older brother John had me learn Charlie Parker’s version of ‘Slow Boat To China’ and ‘Chi Chi,’ with the great Max Roach on drums,” Farnsworth said during a pair of recent interviews. “When I started hearing Max, that was like the big change in my life … (to) that style of music and drumming.

“Around that time, my brother John drove me to UMass-Amherst to see Roach give a master class. We came into the room, and there was a guy playing piano. It was just the three of us. I’m like, ‘Damn, is that Max Roach?’ Because I had never seen his face, and he was playing piano. Then he stopped playing and says, ‘What are you guys here for?’

“I said, ‘I’m here because I want to play like Max Roach.’ He didn’t answer; he just kept playing. About 10 minutes later, he asked, ‘Do you know who Billy Strayhorn is?’ I said no. He kept playing music — beautiful music — on the piano. He finally stops and says, ‘If you don’t know Billy Strayhorn, you don’t know anything about the drums.’

“I was 12, and I didn’t really know what he meant by that. But I know now. He meant that … you first and foremost are a musician, and you need to learn about music … and open your mind and ears to all the possibilities. … Then you’re able to play music instead of just playing drums.”

Farnsworth’s jazz education continued with private lessons with the legendary drum teachers Alan Dawson and Art Taylor, and at William Paterson College. “But,” he says, “the school I wanted to go to was the school of Cedar Walton and George Coleman.”

So, he headed to New York City.

When you see Farnsworth on a gig, he is always dressed to the nines. It’s his way of paying homage to the jazz masters. “I’ve been doing it ever since I started making gigs in 1986. Art Blakey did it. McCoy. Miles. Charlie Parker. That was the thing to do. My first big gig was with Benny Golson. He always wore a suit. I did, too. Milt Jackson, George Coleman, Cedar Walton. I wanted to be like that.”

Coming out of the hard-bop tradition, Farnsworth, 57, has played with a formidable list of jazz masters, including Tyner, Walton, Golson, Coleman, Horace Silver and Harold Mabern. He toured with Diana Krall and spent 16 years with Pharoah Sanders. He is a charter member of the supergroup One for All with his former Paterson classmate Eric Alexander. In recent years he has helped nurture — and is sought out by — a younger generation of musicians, including pianist Emmet Cohen, in whose trio he plays, and the sensational young tenor player Sarah Hanahan.

Both Cohen and Hanahan are featured on his latest album, The Big Room (Smoke Sessions), his eighth as a leader. Rounding out the A-list of players is Joel Ross, vibraphone; Jeremy Pelt, trumpet; and Yasushi Nakamura, bass.

Farnsworth’s drumming is characterized by crispness; rhythmic clarity; melodicism; a sensitive, musicianly use of dynamics; and a bulletproof sense of swing. His impeccable technique has given him the freedom to celebrate a tradition that includes drummers from Roach to Roy Haynes, Billy Higgins and Tony Williams, while enjoying the ability to go well beyond that tradition.

The younger players admire his discipline, an almost monastic dedication to the art form, which comes out in many ways: the way he presents himself — no matter what the gig may be, Farnsworth always sports a suit, tie and pocket square; and the way he takes care of his body and spirit. “It’s the standard that he holds for himself,” said Cohen, describing his friend and colleague. “Dressing. Running every day. Going to church no matter what the language or what country he’s in. Staying centered. I’ve never seen him falter. He’s been an enormous blessing in my life.”

South Hadley, Massachusetts, population 17,000, in the western part of the state, was never exactly the jazz capital of the world. Yet being the son of a high school band director, and with four older brothers who all played, Farnsworth’s life was filled with jazz.

“Listening to music was the biggest thing in my life,” he said. “It was important to me. Still is. I used to love having listening parties with my brothers. We had thousands of records.

“My oldest brother, David — he was the original drummer. He had a nice set of Ludwigs. He’d go off to school and say, ‘Don’t touch my drums.’ So, I’d look out the window until I couldn’t see him anymore, and I’d plop on the drums.”

The budding musician would go from room to room in the house in South Hadley, listening to his brothers’ favorites. With David, he would listen to the Temptations and O’Jays, but also the Buddy Rich and Basie bands. “The next room over was James. He was a saxophone player and was into Sonny Stitt and Sonny Rollins. … John was a trombone player, so he liked Chicago, but he was also into Charlie Parker, J.J. Johnson and Clark Terry. So, I’d go into that room and listen to that. I like to joke that it was like having my own mini 52nd Street.”

What is “the big room,” the concept behind Farnsworth’s new album? It seems to have more than one meaning, describing a place where constraints on expression disappear, but also an approach to time.

Farnsworth has said, “Jackie McLean talked about being at such a height of greatness that you’re able to go into the big room, where there’s no furniture and no paintings on the walls. You’re able to arrange the room any way that you want, but only a few people ever get there — greats like John Coltrane or Ornette Coleman. It’s like what Roy Haynes said about playing with Coltrane — it’s freedom with discipline.”

The sense of “freedom with discipline” is palpable on the record. It was tracked in a single day during a recording session on the stage of Smoke, the Upper West Side nightclub that spawned the label. The eight songs cover a wide spectrum, from post-bop burners like Hanahan’s opener “Continuance” and Cohen’s “You Already Know” to altered blues (Pelt’s “All Said And Done”), pensive ballads (Joel Ross’ “What Am I Waiting For?”) and the triumphant boogaloo (Farnsworth’s “Prime Time”) that closes the album.

For Farnsworth, the music is never about ego or chops. It’s about being the best person you can be, on and off the stage.

“I remember meeting Billy Higgins and asking him why he smiled so much. ‘Smiling Billy Higgins,’ people called him. He told me he made changes so he could become happy, joyous and free. He changed his lifestyle, stopped doing certain things. Became Muslim, started listening to God. Freed himself from toxic relationships. Set healthy boundaries. Certain people he had to let go of.

“I was determined to be like that, but I didn’t know how. About 13 years ago, I decided to do the same thing — change my life. Being a father of three, I stopped hanging out after the gig, stopped drinking. I decided to become Catholic — I wasn’t anything before that. I started listening to a higher power.

“‘Listen to learn, and learn to listen’ — that was what Art Taylor taught me. I wanted to be happy, joyous and free … to be a better father, a better drummer and be of service to younger people.”

Farnsworth once toured with Benny Golson. Two legendary players, trombonist Curtis Fuller and trumpeter Art Farmer, joined the band for its final dates. “One night when Art played ‘I Remember Clifford,’ I noticed that Curtis started to cry. Little did I know that Art was dying of cancer at the time.

“Being on the road with these guys showed me the level of fellowship, commitment, love and respect that they had for each other. I learned just how big their hearts were. What I learned was that they were giants of men. The instruments (they mastered) were just by-products.

“Art gave me a pocket square to put in my jacket. He said, ‘Hey, man, you need to look good if you want to hang around me. Don’t embarrass me.’ To this day I wear it.” DB