9/21/2025
This week’s reissue of Mingus at Monterey feels deeply personal to me. It’s not just another record from my father’s incredible body of work — it’s a piece of my family’s history, one that carries the fingerprints of my mother, my brother, and the household we shared at that time.
The Original 1966 Release
My father was very much influenced by the original concept of United Artists, an artist-run film company spearheaded by Charlie Chaplin. He saw that the odds were stacked against the creators of music and sought independence early on — first by starting Debut Records with Max Roach. But because it was structured more like a traditional record company, they hit the distribution wall, and he eventually lost that label to Fantasy Records (he would later say it was stolen, though the person who took it claimed it was given as a wedding gift).
The Mingus at Monterey recording itself was made on September 20, 1964, at a live concert that was part of the Monterey Jazz Festival. Two years later, in 1966, my father released Mingus at Monterey independently, through Charles Mingus Enterprises. Unlike other records that came through established labels, this one was distributed entirely by mail order. The record distribution system at that time was fraught with control and corruption, and for my father, releasing Mingus at Monterey through his own mail-order label was not only about independence — it was also a way to avoid exploitation, to make sure the music could reach people directly without being siphoned through the machinery of an industry that rarely worked in the artist’s best interest. That meant the music reached listeners because of the hands-on labor inside our home.
My mother, Judy, was the one who kept my father’s label running. She managed his business accounts, organized rehearsals, handled the day-to-day affairs, and took the orders for the records. My father relied heavily on her, and her influence on both his career and his life was profound.
My brother, Charles iii, contributed his artistic eye to the endeavor. He helped create the cover for Mingus at Monterey, designed the artwork for Jazz at Massey Hall, and also did the cover art for Charles Mingus: Music Written for Monterey, 1965 Not Heard… Played in Its Entirety, at UCLA. Beyond the visual work, Charles iii was the one who carried the records to the post office, making sure they were mailed out and reached people who had ordered them. This was not just a label — it was a family operation, powered by dedication and love.
Why This Reissue Matters
That’s why this reissue is not just about making historic music available again. For me, it’s also about honoring the hidden labor that helped bring it into the world in the first place. Mingus at Monterey represents a moment when my family came together to carry my father’s vision forward. It reminds me that music is never created in isolation — it lives within the people, the relationships, and the love that surround it.
As I hold an original copy of the record today, I think about those mail-order days, my mother’s steady hand, my brother’s artistic touch, and the way all of it converged to bring this music into being. Seeing it reissued now fills me with pride, gratitude, and joy. It’s a reminder not just of my father’s genius, but of the family labor that helped make sure his voice was heard.
The Hidden Work
I was only two years old when all of this was happening, but I grew up surrounded by these records and the energy that went into them. Over the years, I’ve seen how much of my mother’s role has been overlooked in the official story. In the Library of Congress, which houses the Mingus Collection, her handwriting and her influence are everywhere in the documents, yet her name is rarely acknowledged. Even photos of her in the collection sit unidentified. I recognize her presence, because I knew her, and I know how much she gave to this music and to our family.
I am going through all the documents in the Charles Mingus Collection at the Library of Congress and will dive into this much deeper as this blog continues. I am slowly working on a project to honor my mother and the many women who are too often erased in history. The project is called Invisible Work — it’s about recognition for the work women do that is so often demanded, yet rarely given proper credit or acknowledgment. I recognize her presence, because I knew her, and I know how much she gave to this music and to our family, and I believe she deserves wider recognition for the role she played supporting the creation of some of the most important music of the 20th century.
—Eric Mingus
Tonewood Mill Arts Inc 