Yogi Berra On Jazz

Interviewer: Can you explain jazz? 

Yogi Berra: I can't, but I will. 90% of all jazz is half improvisation. The other half is the part people play while others are playing something they never played with anyone who played that part. So if you play the wrong part, its right. If you play the right part, it might be right if you play it wrong enough. But if you play it too right, it's wrong.

Interviewer: I don't understand. 

Yogi Berra: Anyone who understands jazz knows that you can't understand it. It's too complicated. That's whats so simple about it.

Memorable Meetings: Justin Bieber

About five or six years ago, I had a summer job playing piano at a restaurant in Atlanta called "The Tasting Room." There were a few nights that summer when a group of teenagers would come in and the staff would whisper that it was hip-hop producer Dallas Austin's son and his friends. On one of those nights, one of the waitresses pointed out the youngest one of the bunch, a blonde haired 13 or 14 year old kid. She told me that he had recently been signed to Def-Jam Records and that he was a great singer and fast becoming a "YouTube sensation".

I found that hard to believe considering how young he looked, and I just continued to play. A few minutes later, I noticed that that kid was standing behind me watching me play. I didn't really think anything of it, especially at the end of the song when he began to ask me questions; they were all very typical questions of a young person who had just begun to play the piano.

However, I was immediately struck by his sensitivity. He was very shy and seemed extremely hesitant to say anything about his own music; in fact, I felt that he seemed a little un-confident and even a bit nervous. However, I remember thinking that those qualities worked in favor of his sincerity, with which he seemed filled. I could tell that he was extremely interested in learning about music; he seemed to also be was very enthusiastic and excited about being at the beginning of his musical journey.

I mentioned nothing of the rumors I'd heard and asked more about him. He told me that he played a little piano ("Just a little," he laughed, pointing at my hands.) and that he also wrote a few songs. After a little coaxing on my part, he finally asked me if I wanted to hear one.

As soon as he began to sing, I realized that my decision to let him play might have been a bad one, and actually by mid-song I began to panic, thinking that it might cost me my job. It's not the he was bad, because he wasn't; however, he wasn't sensitive to the environment (a small restaurant), and he began banging loudly on the piano and literally belting the song as loud as he could.

Everything about it was very "beginner" to me; his piano playing was way too loud to complement his singing and it was obvious to me that he couldn't hear the music well enough yet to know when, or how, to be sensitive in his playing or singing. It was obvious too that he couldn't quite reach some of the notes in his singing that he was aiming for. However, I remember thinking to myself that the song was extremely catchy and I was very impressed with him that he had wrote it; I remember thinking to myself that "this song could actually be a hit." I was right, hah! The song he played for me that night was "Baby". Of course, at the time, I had no way of knowing that the song would become one of the biggest selling songs of all-time; I do remember us laughing when I commented that "there's a lot of 'baby's in that song".

Although he was THE Justin Bieber, he wasn't famous then, and I saw him as I would see most 12/13 year-old beginner piano students. However, I do remember thinking to myself that he did have a lot of charisma, and that after a few years of practicing more, he would be great.

He finished the song and asked me a few questions about it. (I can't quite remember what they were, but I remember showing him some chord voicings.) Then he asked if I'd play something else. I did, and I'll never forget his look of astonishment when I finished. He sort of blushed, and said "Now, I'm embarrassed to have played before you." We laughed and he said something like, "Wow. You can play real music," which, in retrospect, is very interesting to think about when considering where he is now.

I told him that he will too, one day, and was very confident in saying that when I did. I realized that this kid really did have a lot of potential and charisma, and after really getting it together musically, he'd be a complete package.

He came in a few more times that summer and each time he'd come in, he'd always spend a good bit  of time standing behind me watching me play. The job ended at the end of the summer when I had to go back to school, and after that I never saw him again. After a little while, my Dad began bugging me about some kid he'd just read about in the New York Times; he had saved the article for me to read. Finally, I picked it up and was shocked at who I saw: that kid!

Considering the things he said to me and the way he acted on those nights that I saw him, the immediate success of Justin Bieber is a very interesting thing for me to think about; here was a kid who was obviously talented and had great potential -and was recognized for that at a very young age-, but had he been given time (more than 4 months) to really develop as a musician (instead of being capitalized on immediately) he could have really been something phenomenal. Even though he was just a random kid in the restaurant that day, anyone could've seen that he had real potential. It's a shame that he was rushed into stardom the way he was, because he was honestly only at the way beginning of his musical journey, and he knew it. I can only hope that all the money and fame hasn't taken away his sincere, child-like excitement about the musical journey that lay ahead of him, and that his ego hasn't blown up and tricked himself into thinking the journey's finished.

Rest In Peace, Marian McPartland

I was very sad to hear of the passing of the great Marian McPartland yesterday. One of my favorite pianists, a few years ago I wrote her a letter and was shocked when she actually responded. Her long letter was so kind, thoughtful and encouraging, and also full of stories from her life. After telling me about Red Garland, George Shearing, Bill Evans, Frank Sinatra and Dizzy Gillespie, she wrote, "But that's just talking about myself, we don't need too much of that!" How wrong she was; I could've listened all day. A special lady and a huge inspiration to many - she'll be missed!

Meeting Dick Cavett

It was such a thrill to meet the legendary Dick Cavett last night. He was in attendance at the absolutely amazing performance of another legend, Mort Sahl, at the Cafe Carlyle, and was cracking up the whole show. I know of Cavett's close friendship with Groucho Marx and, having read a whole lot about Groucho this past year, I felt like my moment with Cavett was like a page out of one of those books; he was so quick witted and full of hilarious, dry humor. When I asked if we could take a picture together he responded with, "I thought you'd never ask." Then, just after we took the photo, he realized that he'd left his phone inside the cafe and would have to go back in to get it. Having just made a long, elaborate exit from the cafe, he looked at me and said, "You ruined my exit." Finally, after returning with his phone in hand, he looked behind us at the bar that had just closed for the night. "Darn it," he said, snapping his fingers. "I guess I won't get to spend $300 on a drink tonight." Classic!

Rest In Peace, Dave Brubeck

I'm sad to hear of the passing of one of my heroes, the legendary Dave Brubeck. In recent years, when he'd play at the Blue Note but was too frail to walk up the stairs to use the dressing room before he'd play, he'd sit in the passenger's seat of a car that was parked a few doors down from the club until it was time for him to go on. Over the past few years I was very fortunate to have had a few wonderful conversations with him out there. He was always so kind, encouraging and full of enthusiasm. And while it was obvious that he was in pain, he'd always walk into the club with a huge smile on his face, waving and greeting everyone as he walked into the club and on to the stage. He was a huge inspiration to me in so many ways. Above all, keep smiling!

Tony Bennett at the Village Vanguard

The following was originally published on JazzWax.com on February 6, 2012. It was published under the "Eyewitness" Section and is my experience about going to hear Barry Harris recently at the Village Vanguard.

"A week ago yesterday I went to see Barry Harris’s second set at New York’s Village Vanguard. He was appearing with bassist Ray Drummond and drummer Leroy Williams.

Whenever I go to the Vanguard, I like to show up early with hopes of getting a seat just behind the piano’s keyboard. The seat lets me see what the pianist is doing, which gives me quite an education. Fortunately, the table I wanted was open.

Shortly after I took my seat, and I looked around and noticed a “reserved” sign on a table in the center of the club to my right. But as people continued to file into the Vanguard, the table remained empty. I kept watching the door to see who might show up. Saxophonist Lee Konitz walked in, but he didn’t sit at that table.

At 10:55, the lights dimmed. I looked back at the door one last time. There was Tony Bennett standing in the doorway at the bottom of the stairs with a woman, who I later learned was his wife, and a few of their friends. They were waiting to be seated. But instead of sitting at the "reserved" table, Tony chose a booth on the other side of the room. As they made their way to their table, most people in the audience whispered but let him have his privacy.

Then Barry, Ray and Leroy took the stage, and the show began. The trio launched into Like Someone In Love, complete with Barry's signature block-chord style. It was reminiscent of Bud Powell’s version on Dexter Gordon's Our Man In Paris. At the end of the song, Barry said, "Everyone wants to feel like someone in love, but sometimes I just want to be happy."

Naturally, they launched into a brisk, hard-swinging version of I Want To Be Happy. On Harris' version of Embraceable You, his choir joined in. The 20 or so singers were seated like audience members on the "upper-deck" booths just off the stage and were a welcome surprise.

Toward the end of the hour and a half set, Barry picked up the microphone and began to tell a story. He said there was a special person in the audience who had been a close friend of his for years. He told of the first time the two played together, when this person had come by a club where he was playing and sat in. Barry said that each time they would meet—whether in New York or Japan—they would perform the same song.

During one of those chance meetings, Barry said, this person happened to be at the Village Vanguard to hear pianist Tommy Flanagan. Coincidentally, Barry was there, too. When Flanagan invited that person on stage, Flanagan asked what he wanted to do. The person yelled out into the audience, “Barry, what key did we do that song in?” “‘F,’ I yelled back,” Barry said, laughing.

Barry then took a deep breath and said, “I want you to know who is in the audience tonight. Ladies and gentleman, Tony Bennett.”

The place, of course, went nuts. When Bennett stood up to be acknowledged, he spent what seemed like a long moment thinking. Then he started to make his way up to the stage. When Bennett arrived at the mike, Barry yelled out, “Barry, what key is that song in?” They both laughed. However, before we could learn the name of the song they had performed regularly over the years, Bennett humbly said, “I liked what you guys did with Embraceable You. Could we do that one?” Barry launched into an elegant eight-bar introduction, during which Bennett said to the choir, “You’ll have to sing with me.”

Barry was the perfect accompanist for Bennett. The same goes for the choir, which sang long "oo's" behind Bennett and sounded like a string section. It was haunting, in a beautiful way. The choir and Bennett's voice all came in right at the same time and blended perfectly.
Bennett’s voice sounded so good and so strong that it was hard to believe that the 50th anniversary of his release of I Left My Heart In San Francisco was the next day.

As Bennett left the stage, Barry talked about how we had all just witnessed a very special moment. “It’s in the air now,” he said, adding, “I’m sure one of you caught it somehow. It’ll probably come out in Japan and we’ll never know about it.”

Then Barry grew serious again: “New York is a finishing school. You get your beginnings somewhere else, and then you come here. That man is a finisher. Tony Bennett is a national treasure.” Amid the roars, claps and hollers that followed, someone in the audience yelled out, “So are you Barry!” and the applause grew even louder.

As Bennett and his wife and friends made their way up the Vanguard stairs during Harris’ encore, I looked around. Everyone’s expression said the same thing: 'Did that really just happen?'"

Memorable Moments: Bobby Hutcherson

As a volunteer at this year's NEA Jazz Masters Awards, I was fortunate enough to attend a rehearsal of Bobby Hutcherson, Jim Hall and Kenny Barron. As Hutcherson walked into the room (besides introducing himself to Jim Hall!), it was obvious that he was in much pain - he has emphysema and uses oxygen supply -. All that pain seemed to go away as soon as he touched his instrument. It was like magic, like medicine and it was quite inspiring to see not just how much love he has for the music, but how much love the music has for him.

As the rehearsal continued on, others who were at Jazz At Lincoln Center that day popped in the room to hear the music. One of those people was saxophonist Jeff Clayton.

At the end of that specific take on the tune, Clayton said hello to Hutcherson and asked how he was doing. Hutcherson responded in quite a joyful tone. "Well," he said. "I'm doing good!" Then he paused and said, "Life is good, isn't it?"

Clayton nodded, looked down at Hutcherson's oxygen machine and said, "Sometimes."

Hutcherson smiled, and through that that smile he spoke. "No," he said. "It's good."

Jimmy Rowles Meets Billie Holiday

Below is an an excerpt from Michael Sheldon's excellent liner notes to the Jimmy Rowles' "Trio '77/'78" album. What follows is Rowles' description of one of his first encounters with Billie Holiday.

"I was at the Trouville about a week, and I had just met Billie," remembered Rowles. "We had just come from rehearsal, and I didn't know what to make of her, whether she came out here to fuck Lester Young, or what she did. One night I was sitting at the end of the bar and called her - 'Lady, can I buy you a taste?' So she sits down besides me, I bought her a gin and Coke. Can you imagine drinking that shit? I don't know what to talk to her about. So I think back to when I was listening to Andy Kirk's band...So I remembered a tenor player with Kirk, and for some funny reason I ask her about Dick Wilson. She put her drink down. 'Did I ever know Dick Wilson?' Now this is the first time I talked to her alone. 'I'm gonna tell you something. I was going with Freddie Green, and I was faithful to that motherfucker, but every time I saw Dick Wilson, I just had to take him out and fuck him.' The first time I'd heard anything come out from a chick like that. Crazy chick. She had me then. What can you do after that? You have to love her. Too much chick.'"

Memorable Quote: Roy Haynes

"They're just not used to the ding-ding-da-ding."

- Roy Haynes, in conversation with a friend after a recent performance at Dizzy's Club Coca-Cola, on playing with The Allman Brothers Band.

Memorable Moments: Bill Cosby & Jimmy Heath

"So grab ahold of those dentures and blow the candles out!"

- Bill Cosby to Jimmy Heath, on stage at the Blue Note this past October at Jimmy Heath's 85th Birthday Big Band Celebration.

Memorable Quote: Jimmy Heath

"I woke up today and I looked in the paper and I wasn't in the obituary section. I'm good!"

- Jimmy Heath's response to my "How are you?", at this year's NEA Jazz Masters Awards.

Memorable Quote: Chick Corea

"He wouldn't specifically tell me to do anything, but he'd hint at it," Chick said, referring to Miles Davis. "He'd turn to me at certain parts and say, 'I like that.'"

- Chick Corea, to Gary Bartz & all those listening in from outside the dressing room door (including me) at the Blue Note earlier tonight, referring to the time that Miles Davis took him (Chick) to see Ahmad Jamal in concert.

Memorable Quote: Kareem Abdul Jabbar

"Chick was channeling some Red Garland tonight!"

- Basketball legend, Kareem Abdul Jabbar, excitedly walking into the dressing room at the Blue Note to greet Chick Corea earlier tonight.

Memorable Quotes: June - November, 2011

"About the cell phone thing: maybe turn the volume off, but keep the vibrate on. Especially you musicians; I don't want you to miss that big break." -Chick Corea, earlier tonight, on stage at the Blue Note Jazz Club.

McCoy Tyner to the sound guy at the Blue Note, during soundcheck one day after Gary Bartz remarked that the piano stool was low, which reminded him of Erroll Garner: "Got any telephone books?"

"He [the composer] must've been in love [when he wrote that]. Well...I guess that'll help you write good songs." -McCoy Tyner, to me, on the song, "I'll Take Romance."

"Don't...No...No...The best exercise you can get for your hands is practice; strengthen your fingers, not your hands; scales do more for you than weights." -McCoy Tyner, to me, on weightlifting as a pianist.

"That's why music is better than sex: it lasts." -Benny Green, relaying to the audience at the Blue Note some wise words that Ray Brown once told him.

"If you're a musician, don't forget to listen to the birds." -Randy Weston, at an interview at a Manhattan Barnes & Noble.

"'cause when I love my baby but my baby don't love me you can only say that with the blues." -Randy Weston, on why Jimmy Rushing said that the Blues is the greatest music.

"If you blow it, you blow it. Nobody dies, and then you learn something." -Fred Hersch, at a recent masterclass at NYU.

"I didn't go to church on Sundays; I went to the Vanguard." -Dee Dee Bridgewater, to me, on her apprenticeship with the Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Big Band.

Ray Brown Tribute Band

As an intern at the Blue Note Jazz Club, I recently had the honor of putting together the following video. It was such a thrill to interview some of my favorite musicians of all time - Dee Dee Bridgewater, Benny Green, Christian McBride, & Greg Hutchinson - on their mentor and a hero of mine, the legendary Ray Brown.

Hanging Out with Ron Carter

Earlier today, I was treated to quite a thrill. Currently interning at the Blue Note Jazz Club, I was in the office today when Jim Hall and Ron Carter were there doing their soundcheck.

As the soundcheck ended and Ron began to head upstairs to the dressing room, I asked him if he'd like any help. He obliged and handed me his bass case. "Be careful," he said. "It's heavy." It was.

After we got into the dressing room and finally figured out how to turn the lights on, Ron, smiling, cracked a joke. "I like those," he said, referring to the complicated light switch. "But only one of 'em," he said, laughing.

It was obvious that Ron was in a very good mood and I could also tell that he was enjoying my company. I seized the moment, taking that opportunity to grab a video camera in hopes of asking Ron a question or two (for the Blue Note blog, one of my job responsibilities).

I found Ron downstairs just to the right of the stage. With camera in hand, I asked if I could ask him one question about the Blue Note, for the club's 30th Anniversary. "Of course," he said. "Let's go up to the dressing room for this."

We got up to his dressing room and sat down in the room's comfortable chairs. I turned the camera on and asked him my Blue Note related question. My one promised question quickly turned into two and then three. His answers were very telling of the care with which he holds all of the musicians with whom he plays. Here's what he said when I asked him if there was any particular Blue Note performance that particularly stands out to him:

"Well, you know, to answer that question kind of implies that the others weren't so important, so I'm not gonna do that. (laughter). They're going to come knock on my door and say, 'Why you!'...And I never answer that kind of question because I don't want anyone who is not mentioned in my commentary to feel that their job wasn't important to me, or that I didn't have a good time, or that I didn't learn any music, or that I'm not looking forward to working with them again. And each group I've worked with here, I've always had a good time, and I've always learned some music, and I've always had the chance to look forward to working with them some more, and hopefully I've gotten better in the meantime, so I don't want them to feel that they're not on my list."

It was obvious that I was listening to a very caring, thoughtful, and articulate man speak.

I mentioned to him that I'm a pianist; that I study with Don Friedman. He began asking me about Don; how he's doing, what he's been up to, etc. I felt us getting into a friendly conversation, so I turned the camera off and sat back.

As Ron began telling me about recording with Don and Joe Henderson, I was reminded of a really wild band - a totally unknown one - that Don was once a part of and had told me about. I told Ron, very excitedly, about the vocalist' Dick Haymes' group which included Don, Scott Lafaro, and Elvin Jones.

Upon hearing this, Ron was shocked. "What!", he exlaimed. "Wow, they must've washed Haymes away."

I told him what Don had told me; that on a gig they played at the Village Gate, the IRS came out to get Haymes; he owed a million dollars in taxes. Ron was certainly shocked. "One million dollars," he said. "In the sixties...Damn, in the '60's one-million dollars really was one-million dollars."

I mentioned that I hadn't realized that Dick Haymes' brother was Bob Haymes.

"Who's that?", asked Ron.

"He wrote 'That's All.'"

"Wow," said Ron. "I didn't realize that."

I told Ron that Haymes had also written one of my favorite songs, a song that isn't very well known, but a song that Blossom Dearie did amazingly, "They Say It's Spring."

As soon as I mentioned Blossom Dearie's name, Ron's face lit up. "I know that song," he said, smiling.

He began telling me how much he loved Blossom Dearie's piano playing. He said that he really admired the way she played chords; that she was really a master of voicings, and that she always played the perfect chord for each moment, always with the right note on top. He told me that he really had a lot that he had wanted to learn from her. "When I played with her, I knew the right bass notes and passing tones to play below her but I wanted to sit down at the piano with her and learn about the full chords from her." He said that the two always talked about getting together for this lesson of sorts, but for one reason or another, it never happened. "Regrettably," said Ron.

I told him how I love her repertoire; how she's really introduced me to so many beautiful songs that I never would have heard otherwise. He agreed. "She had a way with songs that were very rare that people didn't really know, but she would interpret them in a way that would make people want to know them, and she'd make them popular before they were popular...She was singing 'Peel Me A Grape' long before it was famous."

I smiled, saying how I also loved her arrangements; how she'd slow down songs - like "Tea For Two" and "Surrey With A Fringe On Top" - that were normally played fast. He smiled too, and during mid-laugh, began to sing - just a few bars - raising his voice to a high squeal, doing his best Blossom Dearie impersonation.

It was really a thrill to talk with Ron Carter about one of my all-time favorite musicians, Blossom Dearie. It was also extremely surprising and validating (in a way) to hear him speak of her piano mastery and his love for her music and her piano playing. Ron is always associated with Herbie Hancock, a pianist who is often considered the ultimate harmonic master, and it was very exciting to hear his excitement about the playing and music of Blossom Dearie.

One thing that really shocked me during our conversation was how comfortable Ron made me feel throughout, and how genuinely interested he seemed in what I had to say, too. Looking back on it, it really felt like nothing more than two huge jazz fans having a friendly conversation about the music we both love.

I told him how I recently played with Houston Person and how his sound just knocked me out; how, while on stage listening, I got the chills and I realized that I'd never really heard that sound on the saxophone before in real life; no one really plays like that anymore.

Ron understood, seemingly shocked at that reality. He began to reminisce on that specific tenor sound..."One of my first sessions was with Coleman Hawkins, Tommy Flanagan...and Eddie Locke or someone like that. I think it was called Hawk's Groove...or something like that." He said it quickly, casually, in passing, before asking the question that mattered most to him: "Do you ever listen to Don Byas?"

"Oh yes," I answered. We began to speak about the Town Hall duo recordings of Don Byas and Slam Steward. Ron loves those recordings. He then asked about Gene Ammons, and expressed to me his love for that sound, the sound of the "Texas Tenors," quickly mentioning Frank Wess as another player that he loved.

I told him that one of my favorite recordings is the Coleman Hawkins/Red Garland album. He smiled. I also expressed my love for his album with Red Garland. "Oh yeah," he said. And then, so cool and casually, said: " That was with Philly Joe, too."

Our conversation kept on for a while. Ron was really at ease and seemed to be enjoying our conversation. He seemed especially grateful when, later that day, I brought him a copy of a Blossom Dearie piano-only record that he hadn't heard before. I apologized for my bad handwriting. "It's not bad," he said, laughing. "Don't worry. I've seen much worse."

As I was leaving the room, Ron said to me: "It was great talking with you. That was a bit more than one question, but I was prepared for it. I really enjoyed it."

I've heard stories about Ron being a tough guy, a difficult interview, and I've also heard some near-horror stories about some people's approaching him. To me, I sat in awe as I fathomed how those stories could be possible. That day, I was in the presence of a real sweetheart, someone who loves to smile and laugh and share his experiences. More than anything though, I felt that I was in the presence of an extremely inspiring jazz fan, someone who gets just as excited about jazz and specific musicians as he did when he was only a kid; the only difference is that this enthusiastic fan just happens to be the great Ron Carter, too.

Here's a video of a portion of the interview:

Monty Alexander

As I’ve mentioned in earlier blog posts, one of the more recent highlights of being a student at New York University has been a Friday afternoon interview series at a local Barnes & Noble between Dr. David Schroeder, NYU’s Director of Jazz Studies, and various jazz legends.

He’s interviewed many musicians who I admire and can relate to in some way, but for the most part, the stories of those being interviewed are very different than my story, and they are life stories that, given the time and place of my birth, are absolutely impossible to have happened to me. While that is also so with the story of the great pianist Monty Alexander – who Dr. Schroeder interviewed this past Friday - there was something about his story, what initially drew him to the music, and what continues to inspire him today that struck a deep chord with me.

While many of the jazz greats that I’ve heard speak live often talk of how their lives changed drastically from the minute they heard John Coltrane (something I can’t relate to), Alexander said that one of his first powerful musical memories was the contagious smile and happiness he felt when listening to Nat King Cole sing.

There was something I could relate to.

He went on and on; speaking about pianists Erroll Garner and Nat Cole (noting how Nat is certainly one of the most underrated pianists of all time, as his influence on great pianists such as Ahmad Jamal is extremely evident, which is something I’ve been thinking about for a while now). However, more than anything he could’ve said about their musical technique, he spoke about the way in which they performed, and how it impressed him so. He said that Nat would sit at the piano and play, but he’d have his legs facing toward to the audience; really playing for them.

He spoke of the joy he felt when he listened to Erroll Garner, and Milt Buckner, and Eddie Heywood.

“Did he just say Eddie Heywood?!” I had to do a double take! One of my favorite pianists of all, Heywood was a truly beautiful player, a master of touch and taste, and also one of the great masters of playing melodies.

As Alexander went on to talk about what he loved about Heywood’s playing, (“His playing was perfectly economical,” he said.) I began to feel like I was listening to myself talk. I sat in awe listening to how the exact same musicians had affected each of us in the exact same way at the exact same time in our lives.

I loved how he would say often that the things he most loved about certain musicians was that they made him feel good, or that simply, they made him smile.

Often, musicians, when asked the same question, go on about one’s technical mastery of the instrument, or things very specific, musically, that they admire. To me, it’s always been about making me smile and feeling good on the inside. It was truly a thrill to hear this simple, truthful answer come from this master. In some ways, it made me feel that my ideas and thoughts, similar to his, were finally validated.

He went on to explain that he wasn't attracted to the dissonances created by the music of John Coltrane and Ornette Coleman and more free jazz (although he loved to listen to it and was in awe of it!...He just didn't want to play it). His musical goal has always been to honor the melody and play with and around the melody in the most beautiful way possible. Another sigh of relief.

It was very validating to hear Monty Alexander express my feelings towards music as his. To hear these things, things that have often made me feel more isolated than closer to my peers, was exciting to hear because it made me realize that, "Hey! There are people thinking like me!" Plus, he's been thinking this way since the 1950's and it's worked pretty well for him, too!

Besides this extremely validating and inspiring insight into the thought process of Monty Alexander, he, too, like his heroes Nat Cole, Louis Armstrong, and Erroll Garner, is a fantastic entertainer. The stories he told left the audience jaw-dropped in amazement.

He spoke of a gig one night, where he was playing solo piano, and there sitting in front of him at a table were Frank Sinatra and Miles Davis, deep in discussion.

He spoke of hanging out with Miles at his house. He said that Miles constantly listened to Sinatra, especially when learning a ballad. "Miles played Sinatra around the house," Alexander said. "I was there."

He spoke of Jimmy Smith and Richard "Groove" Holmes, and the hardships of lugging around big organs. He said that both organists bought old Hearst cars and drove to every gig with the organ in the back.

He also mentioned a conversation he had had with bassist Bob Cranshaw just after Cranshaw recorded the now legendary Lee Morgan tune, "The Sidewinder." He said that during the session Morgan was trying to get pianist Barry Harris to play the classic bluesy figure that makes up the melody, and Harris refused. "I won't play it," he said. "That's Rock N' Roll!"

It was a truly exciting and inspiring hour, and I feel honored to have been present.

Memorable Quote: Sonny Rollins

"There's nothing to worry about. You have nothing to fear. If you can look the man in the mirror in the face, then everything's going to be OK. I'm not afraid of anything."

I wasn't at this show, but I read online that this is how Sonny Rollins ended his concert last week at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center.

Memorable Quote: Roy Haynes

"We had one gig together and, after the first tune we played, Lester came up to me and said, 'You're swingin'. If you want the job, it's yours.'"

- Roy Haynes, this past Saturday evening at the Jazz Standard, on getting hired by Lester Young.

Memorable Quotes: Bill Clinton

"People are happiest doing what they're good at."
"You should strive to achieve happiness every day, not just at the end of a journey."

- Former President Bill Clinton, at the 2011 NYU Commencement at Yankee Stadium.