Arranger Johnny Richards turns West Side Story into a vehicle for Kenton's signature sound—big, brassy, restless.
Johnny Richards shaped this album more than Stan Kenton did. Yes, it's Kenton's orchestra and Kenton at the piano, but Richards wrote the arrangements that made Broadway's most dramatic score work as a big band record. He didn't soften the material or make it comfortable. Instead, he pushed Kenton's sound—already loud and architectural by design—into angular, sometimes dissonant territory that matched the show's darker moments while letting the melodies breathe when they needed to.
Kenton assembled a huge ensemble to handle Richards' charts, and the stereo recording catches every section: brass cutting through like a knife, reeds layered thick, rhythm section locked and driving. The solo spots go to Kenton himself, which is fine—his piano playing grounds the big sound, keeps it from floating away. But it's Richards' arrangements that make this album work. He found ways to honor Leonard Bernstein's music without imitating it, treating the score like material a jazz orchestra could genuinely play, not just cover.
This was a smart commercial move, timed to the movie premiere, and it worked: the album charted and won Kenton his first Grammy Award in 1962. But beyond strategy, it's a genuinely interesting record because Richards refused to let the big orchestra muscle its way through the score. Even when things get wild, there's something mournful underneath, something that respects what Bernstein wrote.