Dr. Lonnie Smith, a renowned jazz organist whose performances were marked by deep soulfulness and flourishes of theatricality highlighted by his distinctive wardrobe of turbans, tunics and jewelry, died Sept. 29 at his home in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. He was 79.
Mr. Smith could be evasive about his indelible sartorial style and his name: The “Dr.” was a self-appointed title, adopted in part to distinguish him from another jazz and soul keyboard player, Lonnie Liston Smith. But his music was earthy, direct and sometimes idiosyncratic, drawn from the traditions of gospel music, blues and a relaxed style of organ playing once commonplace in nightclubs in Black urban neighborhoods of the Northeast.
Entirely self-taught, Mr. Smith did not begin playing the Hammond B3 organ — the primary organ used in jazz — until his early 20s. He soon became a master of the bulky two-tiered keyboard instrument known for its rich range of expression and its almost unlimited palette of tonal colors.
“I loved that sound,” Mr. Smith told the San Antonio Express-News in 2014. “It has all the elements of the universe to me. It’s sunshine, rainbows, the rain, the wind, the storm, the flowers. When I’m at the organ, it’s like sitting in a spaceship and you don’t know where you’re going.”
Throughout his career, Mr. Smith developed a rapport with musicians of varying backgrounds and styles. He backed singers such as Gladys Knight and Dionne Warwick in the 1960s, then formed a quartet with guitarist-singer George Benson. He recorded classic jazz tunes, as well as songs by Jimi Hendrix, rock artist Beck, the Beatles and the Eurythmics.
His musical collaborators included jazz stars, such as trumpeter Lee Morgan, bassist Ron Carter and guitarist John Abercrombie, and unexpected performers, such as proto-punk singer Iggy Pop, who appeared on Mr. Smith’s final album, “Breathe,” released this year.
“Mr. Smith is emblematic of a jazz-organ tradition and yet is also an exception,” critic Larry Blumenfeld wrote in the Wall Street Journal in 2014. “His approach to the instrument is quirky and personal, without much adherence to convention. He summons mystery or humor as befits the moment. He’s been that way from the start.”
In the mid-1960s, when jazz organists such as Jimmy Smith — Mr. Smith’s primary influence — Larry Young and Jack McDuff were in their prime, Mr. Smith moved from his hometown of Buffalo to New York City. He appeared on several of Benson’s early albums and released his debut recording as a leader, “Finger-Lickin’ Good,” in 1966.
A year later, he and Benson performed on saxophonist Lou Donaldson’s recording “Alligator Boogaloo,” which became a minor hit. Then known simply as Lonnie Smith — and before he began wearing a turban — Mr. Smith made four well-regarded albums for Blue Note between 1968 and 1970 and was considered a leading exponent of a style called “soul jazz.” His solos sometimes lasted 15 minutes, soaring from a whisper to a floor-shaking roar.
During the 1970s and 1980s, as musical tastes turned away from traditional jazz, Mr. Smith recorded sporadically and adopted the stage persona of “Dr.” Lonnie Smith. At first, he said the “Dr.” derived from the way he “doctored” with the music. Later, he professed to be a spiritual healer through music.
With his white beard, colorful turbans, flowing cloaks, walking stick and silver bracelets and rings, Mr. Smith had a striking presence with a steady, imperturbable smile. He was nicknamed “the Turbanator,” the title of one of his albums.
“I used to wear turbans when I was young, way before I first recorded,” he told Jazz Times in 2005. “Taking it off at this point,” he added, “is like pulling the mask off the Lone Ranger. Some people just love that mystery.”
He spent years in Hawaii and Florida working in obscurity before making a comeback in the 1990s. Recognized as a forgotten musical visionary, he became a headliner at the Village Vanguard and other storied jazz clubs, had long engagements in Japan and Europe, and appeared year after year at the Umbria Jazz Festival in Italy. Beginning in 1993, he released 15 new albums — he had more than 30 altogether — culminating in a return to the Blue Note label in 2016.
The following year, he was named a National Endowment for the Arts Jazz Master, the country’s highest official honor for jazz musicians.
Lonnie Early was born July 3, 1942, in Lackawanna, N.Y., and at a young age took the last name of his stepfather, a mechanic. He spent his childhood in Buffalo, where his mother and aunts sang gospel music in church and on the radio.
Although he never learned to read musical notation, Mr. Smith had an early ability to pick out tunes on the piano and other instruments. In junior high, he was given a battered cornet to play and, overnight, learned the fingerings of the instrument and the next day played “Pomp and Circumstance” for the band teacher.
“I’ll never forget it,” Mr. Smith later recalled. “The teacher said, ‘Looks like we’ve got a star in here.’ ”
In his teens, he sang with his brothers in a doo-wop group that featured a childhood friend, Grover Washington, on saxophone. After hearing recordings by Hammond B3 star Jimmy Smith, Mr. Smith was determined to become an organist, even though he did not have access to an instrument.
He often told the story of visiting Art Kubera’s music store in Buffalo, where he would stay all day, admiring the instruments.
“Why do you come in here every day and stay until closing time?” Kubera asked Mr. Smith, then about 20. “I said to him, ‘Sir, if I had an instrument, I could learn how to play it, I could work, and I could make a living.’ ”
On a later visit, Kubera said, “Come with me.”
“He took me to his office in the back and when he opened the door, there was a Hammond B3 organ with a Leslie speaker, sitting there staring me right in the face,” Mr. Smith told Keyboard magazine in 2016. “It was like the gates of heaven opened up! I went over and sat at it, and he said to me, ‘If you can take it out of here, it’s yours.’ So my brothers came over, and we took it home in a pickup truck while it was snowing! I’ll never forget that. Art Kubera was my angel.”
Mr. Smith had two children from his marriage to Henrietta Wilson, which ended in divorce, and four daughters from other relationships. Survivors include two children from his marriage, Lonnie Smith Jr. of Buffalo and Charisse Partridge of San Diego; three daughters from other relationships, Chandra “Shawn” Thomas of Buffalo, Lani Chambers of Hampton, Va., and Semita “Vonnie” Smith of Pittsburgh; and numerous grandchildren and great-grandchildren. A daughter, Netta Smith, died in 2016.
“A lot of people who come and hear me, they don’t realize where the music comes from,” Mr. Smith told Jazz Times. “It doesn’t come from notes on the paper or anything like that. What happens is, the music comes from my toe and travels all the way up like electricity. And that’s why I’m surprised when I’m playing. That’s because by playing by ear, I really let my body play what’s in my heart, right there on the bandstand. I play life instead of notes. I play what I lived.”
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