Another holiday Sunday with blessings and surprises. Geoff Gillette, the recording engineer, wanted me to meet two singers from Estonia so he brought them for brunch. I invited Frank Beacham, who took these photos.
The story of the Urb Brothers and their adventures with the Soviet Union is astounding and riveting. I didn't say a word all afternoon as I listened to their adventures. And there was even six degrees of separation. Frank had met the Urbs more than 21 years ago in Los Angeles and it slowly dawned on him that he knew them from a long distant past. Read Frank’s account here.
Also joining us was Miles Robertson, who is the music director for Adele. Because six men upsets the seating chart, my neighbor, Sarah Stanley, came to balance the table. I thought I was too tired to entertain on Sunday as I had 65 people back after our concert on Saturday, so cleaning up after that and then throwing this together was a bit much for an older person. But once the music starts—as always happens—life returns to joyfulness. Tired is forgotten and youth returns.
It was a very special day at the Grace and Saint Paul’s Church on Saturday. Our choir joined our neighbors and their kids and pets to sing songs of joy. The holiday season is definitely here!
My whole life, I wanted a Christmas like the one I grew up with—lots of children, family, friends and music. It is easy to be happy at holiday time. Design it, just give them the script, and they rarely disappoint. It is a good time for a gathering.
We had five languages spoken and sung and many points of view. Peace and love prevailed—even for those few hours. My kids and students and families came upstairs afterwards for a light supper (children mean mac and cheese, salad and sweets). Neighbors showed up. I hope many of you will come next year.
So much of the day’s joy was found in the faces of the children, which always makes this event so special. Here is a photo essay of pictures by Frank Beacham. The images speak for themselves.
I have holiday music playing and am cooking, while I clear away some three hundred e-mails and clean my desk at the end of the day. Yesterday, several friends dropped by for lunch. Everyone in the room has definite opinions, so the conversation was flying around the room, while we drank great red wine and ate cheese and fruit, green chili enchilada casserole and avocado salad. I made a grasshopper pie. It disappeared fast, as we talked and discussed the world and music and our various productions.
We also lamented the loss of the Christmas parties given by all of the record companies and studios in the past. How festive it was to party hop. Everyone used to dress up for the parties. Rex Reed was discussing his series at the 92nd Street Y next spring, and Beth Raven had her Blackberry out to retrieve some numbers for him. Jim Gavin and Frank Beacham discussed the recordings that the Klu Klux Klan produced in the 1920s. I had never heard of such a thing. These are the good old days.
The house is jumpin’ as we get ready to celebrate all the good things, like being together during the season. The Sunday brunches have begun. And last week, my friend Geoff Gillette, a great audio engineer, came with a friend, Jennifer, and joined myself, Genie “Pepper” Swinson, Frank Beacham and Vernon Cummings, assisting at the brunch, when he is not producing rap and urban music. We had a modest meal—quiche, et al—and great conversation, as is our custom.
Geoff showed us a video of a documentary he worked on about Little Jimmy Scott. First of all, I love studios, which were my home for over thirty years on a daily basis. It was nostalgic looking at the boards and mics and how they were set up, seeing my favorite musicians and hearing how such an important work came together. There was some marvelous footage with James Moody, Kenny Baron and my favorite, Oscar Castro-Neves.
Almost everyday I am reminded just how lucky I am. My timing seems to be just right, right in the middle of great music, as an observer, participant and great appreciator. We are wrapping two hundred CDs to giveaway at our holiday concert (free) on Dec. 17th, and wrapping presents for children who come and rehearsing the choir. It is a cast of thousands, or so it seems, and the coffee pot is on for the duration. Tonight Christmas baking, it all seemed so simple years ago.
Frankie Valli and Bob Crew at an opening for Jersey Boys
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Most people think of Bob Crewe as a character in and the lyricist of the Tony-winning Broadway hit, Jersey Boys. But Bob was not only the group’s songwriter with Bob Gaudio, he was pivotal in building the successful career of the Four Seasons.
He is equally known for his hit recordings with The Rays, Diane Renay, Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels, Freddy Cannon, Lesley Gore, Oliver, Michael Jackson, Bobby Darin, Roberta Flack, Peabo Bryson, Patti LaBelle and his own The Bob Crewe Generation.
Bob’s compositions are legendary. Memorable Crewe-Gaudio collaborations include "Sherry," "Big Girls Don't Cry," "Rag Doll" and "Walk Like a Man," all fronted by the Four Season’s Frankie Valli. From 1957 through 2001, Bob had an amazing run with more than 27 songs that climbed to over #30 on Billboard’s Hot 100 chart.
In addition to being a prodigious songwriter, Bob Crewe was also a dancer, singer, manager, record producer and fine artist of great style. He was also my teacher and friend. My husband, Burt Collins, was his first trumpet player. So between the two of us, we were always working with Bob—and enjoying dinners and endless good times.
He was my house guest a year or so ago, and brought Steve Rubell, a writer who was working on a memoir about Bob's life. Bob had some memory issues and they thought I could fill in some spots. During the years, I was always the sober one—the one doing the cooking. I had to keep my wits about me and became the observer to a whole era of music history.
This week I heard from Dan Crewe, Bob’s brother and manager, that what began as a severe fall for Bob about a year ago has resulted in severe complications. So severe that Bob has now been diagnosed as being in a permanent mental state of dementia. Due to this condition, Bob was recently moved a nursing home in Scarborough, Maine where he can live near his family. Dan told me today that they treat Bob like the VIP that he is and love him.
I am planning a program of cards and letters to Bob. For two reasons: on a good day, Bob will know that my love does not change and is not conditional. On a bad day, the nursing home will realize that they have a national treasure in their care, and we are concerned about his joy and peace of mind.
I think it would help if we all sent cards and letters. And I hope many of you who know him and have worked with and for him, will send a card. (The address is below.)
Bob always delighted in hearing my students. Last time he was here he walked in on a class I was giving for songwriters, and Markeisha Ensley was playing and he loved her. (She is the winner of the Abe Olman Scholarship Award this year for SGA.) He signed her immediately. He was also proud of Galia Arad and followed her career closely. He was thrilled with her latest success, and was supportive and interested in young songwriters. Sometimes he gave a scholarship, or worthy advise. He was a man who enriched so many.
Write to Bob at: Piper Shores, 15 Piper Road, Scarborough, Maine 04074
Jimmy Norman has left the building. When he came to the Jazz Foundation close to seven years ago, he was six months away from death. JFA got him the medical aide he needed, and he had six more years.
It wasn't the love of music and singing that kept him alive, against all odds. But it was just too hard, hooked up to oxygen, lugging around a tank, too hard, he was ready to join the others, and left having repaired relationships and a final great album.
Jimmy was an old-school songwriter from Nashville who combined the best of soul and R&B. He composed a number of songs performed by well-known musicians including Johnny Nash and Bob Marley. Most notably, he co-wrote the lyrics for the song, Time Is On My Side, which became a hit for the Rolling Stones [the band's first hit to break the top ten].
Jimmy was close friends with Jimi Hendrix and he schooled a young Bob Marley, who at the time wanted to be an R&B singer like James Brown.
In 1969, Jimmy became involved with the doo-wop group, The Coasters, first as a producer and then as a member. When he left The Coasters, after 30 years of performing, Jimmy was in poor health, yet he continued writing and recording.
Over the past decade, Jimmy had substantial help from JFA, who aided him with medical care and housing when he could no longer work. When Jimmy first came to the attention of JFA he had suffered several heart attacks and respiratory disease which restricted him to his home in Manhattan.
With the assistance of JFA, he regained his feet and resumed performing, releasing his first wide distribution album in 2004, Little Pieces [which won the 5th annual Independent Music Award for best Blues album]. He spent the last few years performing, writing music and enjoying a new success.
Jimmy's last public appearance was for the Jazz Foundation where he performed at their Loft Party on Oct. 29.
How lucky we are that he lived in our time. What an inspiration he was!
Recently, a memorial service honoring the great Consuela Lee was held at the historic Abyssinian Baptist Church in New York City. Ms. Lee, a consummate musician, civil rights activist and educator, died last Dec. 26 in Atlanta, Georgia at the age of 83.
Consuela Lee was one of this nation’s most illustrious citizens. First, she was a musician’s musician, performing at Carnegie Hall, Town Hall, Lincoln Center, the Newport Jazz Festival and many other distinguished venues. Bill Lee, her brother and the father of filmmaker Spike Lee, called “the world’s great musician.” She was among the best.
But she was so much more than a performer. Her grandfather, William J. Edwards, founded the Snow Hill Institute 1893 for black children in Alabama. Edwards was a student of Booker T. Washington, who taught his students to go back home and elevate the social status of black people through education and vocational training. The thread is shorter we think!
The school closed due to a desegregation edict in Alabama, Consuela Lee returned to revitalize the institution in 1980. She served as its artistic director for almost 25 years. Over that time, she fought many battles, not only over education and bringing arts to the students, but a white attempt to take money by exploiting timber on the school’s black-owned property. She determined “there is a carefully planned death sentence for black children” in Alabama.
At the New York memorial service, a who’s who of great musicians were assembled and performed. They included Bill Lee’s Bass Violin Choir; pianist Harold Mayburn; vocalist Melba Joyce; and bassist Richard Davis. Former U.S. Attorney General Ramsey Clark did a tribute, while the Rev. Dr. Calvin O. Butts officiated.
Living in New York City, we have the privilege to be included in the presence of greatness. People like Consuela Lee achieved that greatness in spades. It is enough to make you want practice your craft every day. Life is rich, exciting and full of surprises. I am always at a loss of what to say to someone who says they are bored.
Whether you knew Consuela Lee or not, all of our lives were impacted by her presence and great legacy. She made a significant difference. We should aspire to do the same.
Joy to the world! All of your good thoughts and prayers have done it again. Genie “Pepper” Swinson has her new kidney. It had to be jump started, but it is working and she is at home—still with 24 hour care.
Genie's lupus, and the music communities concern for one of our own, has substantially increased the number of organ donors. So many of us who love great talent, and our love for our fellow musicians, have spiked the donors to a mild but an improved degree. It is a wonderful way to make a big difference, save a life and make it as if you, yourself, will live on forever.
With the world going mad, how nice to do something to make it a better place. So many of you who have written to me, have enjoyed Genie singing with the Brothers Johnson, Boz Skaggs and Quincey Jones, not to mention, how she rocked out "Mustang Sally" and "Midnight Hour" with Wilson Picket. Genie was not only in Pickett’s band, but she opened the show for him. What has always amazed me is how many different languages she speaks. About six in all.
With all of her gifts and talents and success through the years, her love is to teach. She is like the Pied Piper of Music. People from all over the world come to study with her, especially from Japan. Just when I think I know a lot about her, I find out something new.
I love our community, I think of the brilliant paintings by Tony Bennett, Bill Crowe's wonderful books about fellow musicians, from "Birdland to Broadway.” All the stories that we keep telling each other, that someone should write this down, and guess what, Bill Crowe, the wonderful bass player, did just that. I think he has three books. Milt Hinton was known not only for his music, but for his many books of photographs. His camera made it possible for Jean Bach to produce "Great Day In Harlem,” a film that was nominated for an Academy Award. It goes on — a vibrant and exciting world, a great time in history to be alive. Thank you for having Genie in your thoughts, Oh Happy Day!
A few hours ago, my close friend Gene McDaniels passed away. He was working until the end. A songwriter, artist, producer and extraordinary person, Gene’s first major hit as a recording artist was “A Hundred Pounds of Clay.” In 1961, it reached #1 and remained on the charts for months.
Several other recordings followed, all reaching the top five, including “Tower of Strength,” “Chip Chip” and “Point of No Return.” Gene’s composition “Compared to What,” originally released in 1968 by Les McCann and Eddie Harris, has appeared in eight major films, including Ice Storm starring Sigourney Weaver, and Casino starring Robert DiNero. It was recorded last year by John Legend with The Roots.
Building on his success as a vocalist, Gene began writing songs and eventually became a music producer. He has produced for many major labels including Ode, A&M, MGM, BMG, CBS Sony, Capitol, Motown and many independent labels. He has had numerous top ten records in the various capacities of producer, writer and artist.
He was always involved, always excited about the music and always relevant. His dear friend, Roberta Flack, has recorded more Gene McDaniels tunes than any other artist. At the time of his death he was working with a brand new singer/songwriter, Mandy Bennett.
Whenever Gene came to New York, the joint was jumping. My house was filled with the folks who loved him and there was a lot of laughter. His wife, Karen, told me he was working until the very end. They went to bed last night, he was full of ideas and new projects, and this morning, she turned in bed to wake him and he was gone.
Last evening was another stellar circle at the Red Lion — carrying on the tradition of songwriters on Bleecker Street for close to one hundred years. Songwriters and creative people have long gathered in Greenwich Village to share and exchange their music and poetry.
The Songwriters Guild of America carries on that time-honored tradition by presenting some SGA songwriters the last Monday of each month. It is different from an open mike night, in that it is booked in advance and presents SGA writers from many generations and genres. It is unrehearsed, and a chance to present new songs and see how they work with an audience made up of other songwriters.
It is a great hang, and a way to meet other people who share your dream. Skip Brevis, who is our MC, brought the players from the show he has written with his wife, Claudia, called “Winner Take All — A Rock Opera.” It is part of the FringeNYC Festival beginning August 12th. We were on our feet cheering; the singers from the show were beyond great.
Also last night some SGA regulars Kirsten Thein, Galia Arad, George Wurzbach and Chris Tedesco. Also on bass, Bruce Gordon, a very busy studio musician and also a songwriter, who has been featured in the past at the Red Lion.
I hope all of you will come by the last Monday of each month and join in the fun at the Red Lion. Also in the audience was Casy Wurzbach, George and Lizzie’s son, an actor, who looks so much like Conan O’Brien it is scary. He has been working out with the group in Los Angeles called the Groundlings, a Second City-style improve group. Lizzie is a popular voice-over actor and you would recognize her anywhere.
Galia Arad filled the Living Room on the Lower Eastside last week. The room was packed and spilled out onto the street, with members of Galia’s workplace, a hedge fund, joining her on stage.
With a quirky personal, funny stories, great songs and a brilliant fashion sense, Galia was beyond fabulous—a complete artist through and through. Here are some pictures taken by Mandy Bennett, recording artist with Gene McDaniels company. I predict Galia will have an amazing career.
This is a must-see new film portrait of the great writer whose stories became the basis of the Broadway musical, Fiddler on the Roof.
I was always in love with Jewish culture and Yiddish lore. I love the language; it’s so colorful and international and full of humor. I had the privilege to work with Sherwin Kaufman ("The Guess Who Zoo” and the grandson of Sholem Aleichem) and through him met Bel Kaufman. They are all extraordinary people. My interest is personal and heartfelt. I am delighted to live in a world that houses such wondrous, rich textured people and literature and music. This film is a gift to all of us.
Sholem Aleichem: Laughing in the Darkness tells the tale of the rebellious genius who created an entirely new literature. Plumbing the depths of a Jewish society locked in crisis and on the cusp of profound change, he captured that world with brilliant humor.
Sholem Aleichem was not just a witness to the creation of a new modern Jewish identity, but one of the very men who forged it. Below is a review of this film from the New York Times. See it while it’s still in our neighborhood.
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So, Would It Hurt You to Go See a Documentary About a Yiddish Writer?
by Stephen Holden
“Sholem Aleichem: Laughing in the Darkness” is much more than a documentary biography of “the Jewish Mark Twain,” as the creator of Tevye the Dairyman, Menachem-Mendl and other beloved folkloric characters has been called. It is a rich, beautifully organized and illustrated modern history of Eastern European Jewry examined through the life and work of the author, born Sholem Rabinovich in Pereyaslav (near Kiev) in 1859. His literary pseudonym was derived from the Hebrew expression “shalom aleichem,” meaning “peace be with you.”
The film, directed by Joseph Dorman, explores the history and dissolution of Eastern European Jewish culture and the conflicting desires of later generations to remember and to forget. In the late 19th century Jews were second-class subjects in czarist Russia and convenient scapegoats in times of social and political unrest; any dreams they had of assimilation were shattered by periodic pogroms.
The rural Jewish culture of the shtetl was further eroded by the Industrial Revolution and World War I and finally wiped out by the Holocaust. One of the film’s central themes is Sholem Aleichem’s personification of the tug of war between nostalgia for the past and the impulse to leave it behind. As millions of Jews emigrated to the United States, where they found it easier to assimilate, Sholem Aleichem was not everyone’s idea of a forward-looking cultural hero.
The movie reveals that Sholem Aleichem was every bit as colorful a figure as the characters in his stories. He was one of 12 children whom his recently widowed father hid with relatives before remarrying, then introduced one by one to the dismay of his shrewish second wife. One of his earliest works was a glossary of his stepmother’s curses. As a young man Sholem Aleichem, who was something of a dandy, took a job tutoring the daughter of a wealthy Jewish landowner. When a relationship between them was discovered, he was fired, and the lovers eloped. He was eventually accepted by her family.
Hebrew was the written Jewish language, and Yiddish, a mixture of German, Hebrew and Slavic languages, had no literature, no newspapers or publications. According to the movie, Sholem Aleichem, who founded a Yiddish literary journal, aspired to be “the designer of modern Yiddish literature.” This rich, highly expressive language, which one scholar in the film likens to Shakespeare’s English, is remembered as having been “a protective shield” and “a portable homeland” separating insular rural Jews from their Russian neighbors.
Upon moving to Kiev, Sholem Aleichem became rich from speculating on stocks, but he lost everything in 1890 and fled Russia only to be rescued financially by his mother-in-law, although she never spoke to him again. He was ruined but never learned his lesson, and he continued coming up with reckless, unsuccessful get-rich-quick schemes.
In his stories, his fantasy of riches, voiced by Tevye, boiled down to a five-word wish, “If I were a Rothschild.” In “Fiddler on the Roof,” the hit 1964 Broadway musical based on the Tevye stories, it became the song, “If I Were a Rich Man.” Many of his stories, which turned difficult situations into high comedy and farce, were tales of generational conflict told from the parents’ point of view.
Sholem Aleichem was a workaholic who, clad in an old bathrobe, would rise at 5 a.m. and write constantly, usually standing up. For more than 25 years he turned out a story a week. Oddly, because Russian was spoken in his home, his six children never learned to write or to speak Yiddish.
Short excerpts from these stories are read by actors, including Peter Riegert (playing Tevye) and Jason Kravits (Menachem- Mendl). The film’s scholarly sources include Sholem Aleichem’s 100-year-old granddaughter, Bel Kaufman (author of “Up the Down Staircase”), Sheldon Harnick (the lyricist of “Fiddler on the Roof”), Aaron Lansky (founder and director of the Yiddish Book Center), Mendy Cahan (founder of Yung Yidish, an Israeli center for the preservation of Yiddish culture) and Ruth Wisse (a professor of Yiddish literature at Harvard).
The movie’s old photographs conjure the look and vitality of shtetl life so vividly you can almost feel yourself jostled in the crowded and dusty streets, hear the cries of peddlers and smell the pungent aromas of the cooking. The gnarly faces and hunched bodies of Jewish peasants, many dressed in rags, attest to decades of pain, hardship and stubborn endurance.
Sholem Aleichem was 47 when he came to the United States for the first time in 1906, hoping to be a celebrated playwright, and he was deeply crushed when his first two plays, which opened on the same night, were savaged by critics. He returned to Europe, where he supported himself by giving readings. (The film includes a short, scratchy recording of one.) When he reluctantly returned to America shortly before his death, he received a much warmer reception. More than 100,000 people, The New York Times reported, lined the streets for his funeral in New York in 1916.
This has been another fabulous New York week and it still goes on. Last Monday at the Red Lion, we had a major turnout and brilliant talent on stage—with a few surprise guests. It was a reunion for me and Amanda Homi, who back in the day was my student. The room was full of excitement as each songwriter performed their new songs.
Sometimes we were invited to sing along. Skip Brevis was again a guiding light. Ellen Kemptner, only 16-years-old, was on stage the whole evening and wowed everyone with her talent. She is someone to watch closely, with interest already from record labels.
Jake Holmes “played” his iPad—there is no end to his creativity.
On Sunday, another Ruckert brunch with Jim Gavin, Genie “Pepper” Swinson and Frank Beacham. Also there were Carlos Alomar and his wife, Robin Clark, both of whom I have known for many years. We have worked and played together for all of that time and they bring such joy to my life.
Brunch started at 2 p.m. Carlos picked out the wine from my wine cooler in the kitchen, as he is a maven when it comes to wine. The final guest left after 9 p.m.
That’s a long time to sit around a table and chat and laugh and solve the problems of the world, which we just about did. Carlos played my guitar, which never sounded better. When I think about the world class musicians who have played on that guitar, just touching it sends good music into my soul.
Please believe me when I say I know how lucky and blessed I am to make a living at something that I love. I have often said “I have given my life to music and music has given me a life.” It is true and has deepened with time. I have always known enough to be grateful.
Thursday night was a "Great Night in Harlem," our tenth anniversary fund raiser at the Apollo Theater for the Jazz Foundation of America. And for the first time it was an artistic success as well as a successful fund raiser. The producer, Hal Willner, was a miracle worker -- timing everything as it it were a TV show. It was a smooth and artistic production.
Dr. John and Macy Gray stole the show for me. The speeches and awards were short, but when someone gives you a million dollars, you must thank them publicly. Saint Agnes, there for us for years, and Mike Novogratz are our saviors.
The star-studded audience was also giving energy to the stage, no one was hanging out in the lobby or going to the bathroom. There is magic just being in the Apollo Theater, with the history that goes with it. There are the ghosts of the past giving light to the night as if to watch over us all.
It has been an exciting month, Nnenna Freelon was at Feinsteins, an unusual place for a woman of jazz. She got a great review from Stephen Holden in the New York Times. She told the story of her mother doing her hair as a small child and telling her that she could be beautiful like Lena Horn, and that it should come from the inside out. The show both honored her mother and the legacy of Lena Horn.
It was thrilling, and it was fun to hear great jazz in such an elegant room. I felt so grown up. The audience was very moved and they did not let the Park Avenue address keep them from being fully involved and clapping hands wildly and singing an answer, and standing to give her an ovation. She always brings something interesting to her shows. A year of so ago I saw her at the Apollo Theater, with the Ron Brown dance company where she incorporated her music in an honor to Billie Holiday and dance.
She is graceful and magic on stage, and always brand new. Someone said to me, I am not going, I heard her recently at Jazz at Lincoln Center. My answer is no, you did not, she is different each time. That is like saying I won't go to hear the Philharmonic, I already heard it.
I am afraid I am getting older and loosing patience with ignorance. With a computer you can do business from anywhere now. The only reason to be in New York City is to make music (or be in the arts) or support the arts. Everyday is an artistic adventure here in the city. When you see me out be sure to come over and say hello. I will be the one smiling and clapping and grateful to have New York be my home.
Sara de Luis dances before a 1950 image of her mentor and ex-partner, Manolo Vargas. ---
My friend, Roger Hagan, has been a west coast photographer since his early teens. Trained in science and history, he earned his living as a writer and editor for journals and magazines, as a broadcasting corporation manager, as a filmmaker shooting documentaries, corporate films and television commercials, as a computer store owner, and as a partner in a multi-image production company.
He has taught film and video production for the University of Washington Extension Division. He resides in the Pacific Northwest of the United States.
His photography in Mexico 1953 was a "Spotlight" feature in Black and White Magazine, issue of December 2006. In 2008 he had B&W print exhibitions in galleries in Guadalajara and Seattle, of the Mexican and Cold Stone series. Roger maintains a blog on the subject of photography and related matters, along with revealing the raw images of his early work with a Rolleiflex from the 1953 roadtrip through Mexico.
Roger Hagan's 16mm documentaries are available on DVD. The subjects range from shoreline management in Puget Sound, to global warming, nuclear physics, evangelism, urban design to high cuisine. He is truly a renaissance man.
Roger is married to one of the world’s greatest dancers, Sara De Luis. Roger has done some wonderful work on and about Sara, but a dancer of her great beauty and talent requires a book. There will never be another dancer or beauty like her. A lot of photographers that I love did their best work photographing the people that they loved. It is so natural. The story of Sara should be told and I urge Roger to do it.
“In the arc of my life that urge led me into writing, filmmaking, and finally back to photography in my later years,” Roger wrote. “It is unlikely that a person will put a film on the wall or sit down to study it in bits and pieces as time and mood allow. But photographic prints and books of my photographs can be presented that way, and those are what I make now, with work I did in mid-century, in the last quarter of the century, and in the new century. When we see the story in a photograph, it is our art—we have to write the story. The photograph is just evidence.”
How lucky I have been all of my life! I have always been at the right place at the right time. Yesterday, I learned of the death of Dr. Billy Taylor. I met him when I was only 17-years-old. My late husband, Burt Collins and I both worked at the original Birdland on Broadway and 52nd Street. On our breaks, we would go the the Hickory House to hear Billy play.
Billy became my mentor and made sure I got to the correct piano teachers. On more than one occasion he played four handed with me. We have stayed friends over all of these years. He drafted me for the board of Jazzmobile, where I served for over 20 years. And later, together, we founded the Jazz Foundation of America.
Our friendship grew deeper through the years. He had a talent for making people feel that they were his friend. Friendships take time, love and great understanding. I think that everyone who knew him feels the way that I do today. We lost a friend, an advocate and an inspiration.
A few years ago he had a crippling stroke which left one side paralyzed. When he played for quite a while, it was with just one hand—one hand playing the whole keyboard orchestrally. It was amazing to watch. He told me that he knew if he kept playing, the other hand would eventually join him. Muscle memory for a musician is key.
I never heard Billy say an unkind word. His love for his wife, children and the music set a standard to live by. He lived an elegant life. And I am so glad he let me love him.
If you did not know Billy Taylor or his music, listen to WBGO Radio (88.3 FM) today, or visit his website. Also read the excellent obituary in the New York Times by Peter Keepnews. It is not too late to fall in love. The very best part of being a musician is that we live forever on the wings of our music.
Sax player during blizzard in Central Park. By Gary D. ---
What could be better than snow at Christmas. Last night, a few friends dropped in for dinner. A snowy evening at Christmas time, fire in the fireplace and good food, wine and conversation to share. We settled the affairs of the world.
My friend, Carol, brought her two-year-old son, Griffin. Griffin made sense of it all—his devotion to the snow globes and happiness with the trees. He was cheerful and friendly to all. This is the promise of the world in its purest state.
I am happy to go to the Red Lion tonight to sing of peace on earth and good will toward men. I only regret not being able to make an angel in the snow any more. I could get down, but I could no longer get up.
Sing a song of joy and holiday spirit. It is hard to contain the feelings of love and happiness this time of year. Is it that I am in the mood to remember and think of the happy days of the past? Large family breakfasts on Christmas morning, where my father has set up the Lionel train set on the dining room table, and he passed the pancakes, bacon and syrup by train express to each of us.
Family movies were taken, friends and neighbors stopped over after church, lots of laughing and while it is nice to remember days of old—these are the good old days. The house is filled with friends and students. This past Saturday we gave a concert, free to family and friends and the neighborhood, children were double free, helium balloons, for all, great sing-along choir and soloists. Skip Brevis as music director—when he is not playing with or for Stevie Wonder—he is kind enough to come and play with us, bringing along his wife and mother.
Regi Ransdale took over the choir conductor's job for Genie “Pepper” Swinson, our choral conductor, who was on medical leave. He did a very good job. He was also a soloist. The church was filled with fun, and the true spirit of Christmas, Hanukka, and Kwanzaa. And as is a tradition, Sunday was a brunch at Ruckert’s. Friends—old and new ones—from each decade.
George Avakian in his 90's (He invented the LP record, among other innovations, in the music industry.) His child bride, only in her 80's, Anahid, a concert violinist, and so on down the line to Jayme, my helper in her 20’s. We did have someone from each decade.
The conversation was multi layered. Kirsten Thein performed a few songs from her new CD. It is getting a lot of airplay and great reviews. Totally amazing, renews my faith in the theory that cream rises to the top. We topped it off with a present from Beth Ravin—Bebop Biscotti—and coffee in honor of bebop musicians we have loved and married from time to time.
So what is it? The memories, the exciting present or the thrill of what is around the corner in future holidays.
Everyday, there seems to be another article on New York City and the gentrification of a neighborhood. Lofts are by law for artists, so the creators of large art works can live in their workspace. My late friend, Deborah Remington, spearheaded that loft movement for artists by helping write the current law.
However, for the last few years, the law has been not been enforced and mortgages have been given to wealthy, loft lovers who are not artists. They want to live among the creative, but not do the work. Now, they have made it unaffordable for the artists themselves to live in New York City.
Why live in New York City except for the arts? With computers, Wall Street can be anywhere. These mortgages are illegal and we should bring a class action suit to bring back housing for the arts.
Lofts, Westbeth and Manhattan Plaza were all designed to house artists and now they are being brought on what’s called “the free market.” The sense of community is evaporating. Our new rich neighbors don't join a church or temple, or a block association (the ones that have worked so hard for us—planting trees and cleaning the streets).
They buy, appreciate and move on. They don't speak to their neighbors in elevators. The send their kids to private schools, where they are more interested in the names of the other parents—not the PTA or the children. Two nannys for two children.
Now who do you run to when you fall? This is the first year that we did not have trick or treaters come on Halloween. This is a very sad Upper West Side story.
Sunday at 2 p.m., people started to arrive. A cast of thousands or so it felt like. We had cooked for days (they hit the food like locus) and were having our champagne and watched as Christine Lavin, our star arrived, followed by a star-studded group.
Chris was generous to a fault and had almost everyone perform, but of course the highlight was Chris singing songs from her new CD, Just One Angel, and reading from her new book, Cold Pizza for Breakfast: A Mem-Wha. Such an easy read, and fun. Every one who performed was wonderful in their own way.
I was especially taken by David Ippolito’s rendition of the John Wallowitch tune, This Moment, which is on Chris’s new CD.
David Rashe was a delight and a surprise, more known for acting (rather deep work as a foremost interpreter of playwright David Mamet on stage and an actor in movies made by Woody Allen, Paul Mazursky and more). He sang Christmas in L.A., also from the CD. George Wurzbach not only performed one of his songs, but helped other people by jumping in on the piano when needed.
In attendance were many other talented folks who did not perform. The rooms were in an uproar all day, performers and artists are the best audience. And so the season starts.
