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Archive for the ‘Wynton Marsalis’ Category

Gary Phillips–Matthew Henson and the Ice Temple of Harlem (2020)

Posted in Airplanes, Bessie Coleman, Black Lives Matter, Blaxploitation, Coronavirus, Explorers, Gangsters, Guns, Inuit, Jazz At Lincoln Center Orchestra Septet, Matthew Henson, Meteorites, Native Americans, Nikola Tesla, Quarantine, Racism, Robert Peary, Sarah Albee, Sex, Sexism, Tiny Desk (Home) Concerts, Tiny Desk Concert, Violence, Wynton Marsalis on March 23, 2021| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: JLCO SEPTET WITH WYNTON MARSALIS-Tiny Desk (Home) Concert #163 (February 2, 2021).

I was looking for some era-appropriate music for this post, then I saw this Tiny desk from Wynton Marsalis which hearkens back to big band but is very contemporary (just like this story).

Marsalis has been writing music about democracy and the call for justice for decades. “I hope that the social and political corruption and turmoil of these times cast a light on the individual investment required to maintain a libertarian democracy,” he wrote on his blog in January. “May the events of these times inspire us all to engage even more deeply in the rights and responsibilities we have as citizens.”  Wynton Marsalis and the Jazz At Lincoln Center Orchestra Septet recorded their Tiny Desk (home) concert at Dizzy’s Club, or what they call “the house of swing.”

The first of the three pieces is called “Sloganize, Patronize, Realize, Revolutionize (Black Lives Matters),” a six and a half minute instrumental that  features tasty solos from just about everyone.

“Sloganize, Patronize, Realize, Revolutionize (Black Lives Matters),” [is] a bold statement about humanity and the consequences of racism. Marsalis says this piece — as well as the rest of the music on his new album, The Democracy! Suite — deals with the timeless human issues we see exacerbated during the times of the pandemic, like social challenges and matters of the heart.

It’s got a big swinging intro and then things settle down for individual moments.  First Walter Blanding plays a grooving tenor saxophone solo.  Wynton takes a bright trumpet solo.  Carlos Henriquez gets a little upright bass solo action and has a little back and forth with Obed Calvaire on drums.  I often wonder if these solos are written out, or if they follow a general guideline or if they are all improvised.

After a return to the main melody, Ted Nash gets a very different sounding alto saxophone solo after which Elliot Mason plays a ripping trombone solo.  Dan Nimmer plays a slightly dissonant piano solo before the band returns to the main theme and brings it all home.

The next two pieces of the suite run uninterrupted into each other.

“Deeper than Dreams” is a reverential piece Marsalis wrote for those who have lost loved ones during the pandemic. Marsalis … lost his father, the legendary pianist and jazz patriarch, Ellis Marsalis, to complications from COVID-19 last spring, and [he] speaks affectionately of “the times when our old folks come and sit with us in the spirit realm when we are sleeping.”

This piece starts slow and swoony. This time the solos are more duos.  With Marsalis and Nash playing together, then Blanding and Mason going back and forth and finally a piano and bass moment for Nimmer and Henriquez.

To close, “That Dance We Do (That You Love Too)” is playful and funky and inspires a hopeful message, one that Marsalis says is “for everybody who got out and got down during this time on behalf of freedom.”

This final piece opens up with a funky introduction.  Nimmer mutes the piano strings as he plays a sound that sounds like a guitar.  The bass brings in a funky rhythm and then the horns all go to town.  The biggest surprise comes when Blanding brings out a tiny saxophone that looks almost like a toy and yet he plays a wicked and wild solo on it.

Then Marsalis plays a muted raw trumpet solo–he gets some wild and crazy sounds.

Obed Calvaire never gets a drum solo per se, but his work throughout the songs is always interesting and complex with all kind of nice percussion and rhythm.

This was a really fun set.

[READ: March 15, 2021] Matthew Henson and the Ice Temple of Harlem

I saw this book at work and thought it might be a reprinted Blaxploitation novel.  But in fact, this is an entirely new book.

I also didn’t realize that Matthew Henson was a real person.  I’m embarrassed not to know that but I see that it was almost by design that I didn’t know who he was.

Henson was an American explorer who was one of the first people to reach the geographic North Pole.  He was essentially partners with Robert Peary on several voyages to the Arctic over a period of 23 years.  [I’d never heard of Peary either, so I didn’t feel too bad about not having heard of Henson].  But unsparingly, upon the success of reaching the North Pole, it was Peary who received the accolades and Henson was dismissed as his helper or even his servant.  Henson received nothing for his work and wound up languishing until many years later when his work was finally recognized:

In 1937 he became the first African American to be made a life member of The Explorers Club; in 1948 he was elevated to the club’s highest level of membership. In 1944 Henson was awarded the Peary Polar Expedition Medal, and he was received at the White House by Presidents Harry Truman and Dwight Eisenhower. [He died in 1955].  In 1988 he and his wife were re-interred at Arlington National Cemetery. In 2000 Henson was posthumously awarded the Hubbard Medal by the National Geographic Society.

So that’s the background.

In this story, Henson has come back from his expedition and has been making a name for himself as a kind of hero for hire.  It’s a wonderful conceit and a great way to get attention for a man who deserves more name recognition.  Also very cool is that the book includes Bessie Coleman, (the first African American and Native American woman to earn a pilot’s license–although she had to go to France to earn it since America wouldn’t give her one). (more…)

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Zadie Smith–“The Lazy River” (New Yorker, December 18 & 25, 2017)

Posted in All Songs Considered, Joey Alexander, New Yorker, Short Story, Tiny Desk Concert, Vacation, Wynton Marsalis, Zadie Smith on December 18, 2018| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: JOEY ALEXANDER-Tiny Desk Concert #808 (November 30, 2018).

I‘d never heard of Joey Alexander before this show.  As is customary, I listened to this show for a while before I looked at it so I had no preconceived notions about Alexander.  He was just an amazing jazz pianist.

But I was also really impressed by the drums.   Kendrick Scott does some amazing things on the drums–the rhythms and sounds he gets from just a snare, bass, hi-hat and cymbal are wonderful.  And Reuben Rogers on bass keeps everything in line while the other two are just jamming everywhere.

But back to Alexander.  He has an amazing touch on the piano–the notes and frills are super fast and intense, and the chords he throws around are just great.  When you tune into the video, you can see that his fingers are miles long–he makes everything look effortless.

It doesn’t even matter that he’s 15, because honestly, the internet is full of teenagers who are amazing musicians. Although perhaps it is odd that a 15-year-old from Indonesia is playing jazz piano like nobody’s business.

When a baby grand piano rolls into the office for a Tiny Desk concert, you expect something special. But none of us could have imagined what it’s like to see 15-year old Joey Alexander play that piano with such mastery. The thing is, when you see him play live, you quickly forget his age and get lost in the intense focus of his performance. Alexander and his stellar supporting cast — Reuben Rogers on bass and Kendrick Scott on drums — form a tight trio, locking eyes as Alexander’s compositions unfold. The relaxed, seasoned veterans looked thrilled to be playing with Alexander at the Tiny Desk, and he was clearly inspired playing with them. The crowd was both mesmerized and humbled by the memories of what they were doing at 15.

Born in Indonesia, Alexander learned to play by listening to his father’s jazz albums. When he was just 10-years old, Wynton Marsalis invited him to play at a Jazz at Lincoln Center gala, and the young Alexander set the jazz world buzzing. He made his mark covering classics by Thelonious Monk and John Coltrane, but he’s now recording and performing more of his own compositions. He showcased that original work during his Tiny Desk performance. Alexander’s vigorously rhythmic playing was playful in the opening “Eclipse” (from his latest album of the same name), which he described as “spontaneous playing.”

It is fast and impressive the way he plays just about every note on the piano during the piece.

“Bali,” also from Eclipse, followed,

It is a much gentler piece, with Scott playing brushes.  The chord progressions are nice and there’s an occasional melodic riff that pops through.  There’s even an opportunity for Rogers to showcase his bass ability with a little “Solo” display.

“City Lights” (from his 2016 album Countdown) closed a set that ranks among the year’s finest jazz performances at the Tiny Desk.

This song is rambunctious and bouncy.  How much fun is it to watch both  Kendrick and Ruben (who are I assume both much older than 15) cheering on Alexander with jazz grunts and yeas of approval.  Scott gets a nifty little drum solo too.

All in all, it’s a great show.

[READ: January 14, 2018] “Lazy River”

This story is written as a metaphor and a reality.  It is set at a vacation resort in Almeria, “Somewhere in Southern Spain”.

Sadly, yesterday the river was green which made everything seem quite unnatural.

The narrator speaks of floating in the resort’s Lazy River and how, much like life, you can just float around in the Lazy River over and over, an ouroborous.  Some people like to assist the ease of things with flotation devices.  Others, less tattooed, often university educated, like to try to swim against the current–they are usually defeated by it fairly quirky.

The narrator and her compatriots (the “we” of the story) are British.  They hope to beat the resort by drinking the cost of their trip in alcohol–don’t tell anyone.  There is nobody French or German there so they can skip the paella and swordfish and eat all of the sausages and chips they like.

They have not been to the Moorish ruins or the mountains.  They are on vacation and will float on the river and not be judged.

The only people not lazing around are two bosomy girls–they lie out and sun themselves all day–constantly checking on their tans.  They put a lot of effort into the photos of themselves–setting the scene, clearing the garbage, working hard to make everything appear perfect,

Maybe a lazy river is the perfect metaphor for life.  Maybe the a trampoline is even better:

Life’s certainly an up-and-down, up-and-down sort of affair, although for children the downs seem to come as a surprise—almost as a delight, being so outrageous, so difficult to believe

There’s also a blood-red moon “don’t look at me, Southern Spain has the highest ratio of metaphor to realty of any place I’ve ever known.”

But clearly the resort workers are the actual workers the ones who had traveled long and hard to work here–the African hair braiders or the man who has to clean up the lazy River after all the vacationers soak in it.

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