We in the Western world suffer from too many categories and classes; we’ve forgotten that we all still have diapers on. We’ve separated music from life.—Ornette Coleman
If you don’t live it, it won’t come out of your horn.—Charlie Parker
What we play is life.—Louis Armstrong
To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.—Emily Dickinson





The nonagenarian pianist presented de Barros with every biographer’s hope, unrestricted access to his subject’s personal papers and nearly unrestricted access to her private thoughts. He made the most of it, turning exhaustive research and hundreds of hours of interviews into a true story with the sweep of a novel. From the early discovery of McPartland’s musical gift through her wartime service, her ecstatic and stormy marriage to Jimmy McPartland, her growth as a pianist, her deep affair with Joe Morello, and the radio show that made her a national figure, she has had a fascinating life. It makes a splendid read.
Mulligan’s Concert Jazz Band had three fewer musicians than most big jazz outfits. Its size permitted precision, flexibility and subtlety, yet the band had the power of sprung steel. In this concert from a half century ago, the CJB is as fresh as yesterday. Arrangements by Mulligan, Bob Brookmeyer, Al Cohn and Johnny Mandel set standards to which big band writers still aspire. Bassist Buddy Clark and drummer Mel Lewis inspired Mulligan, Brookmeyer, Conte Candoli, Gene Quill and Zoot Sims to some of the best soloing of their careers. This beautifully produced issue of the complete concert is a basic repertoire item.
Maurice Sendak [1928-2012] (“Where the Wild Things Are” and other classics for more than just children) in a conversation with Bill Moyers that re-aired this week, mentioned that he carried in a shirt pocket a small booklet of Emily Dickinson poems. He said that he found her frighteningly courageous and inspiring.
I might add George Gershwin’s true and immortal words:
“Life is a lot like jazz.. it’s best when you improvise.”
“The artist should call forth all his energy, his sincerity, and the greatest possible modesty in order to push aside during his work the old cliches that come so readily to his hand and can suffocate the small flower which itself never turns out as one expected.”
HENRI MATISSE from Jazz
OK folks, this’ getting too heavy, so I’ll throw in the obvious:
“Life is a Cabaret, old chum,
Come to the Cabaret!”
“It’s taken me all my life to learn what not to play,”
said the immortal Dizzy; wise man, indeed.
Monday, for me, will bring a Requiem Mass and other celebrations related to the life of Terry Steward who was, at varying times, a mortgage salesman, a banker, a recruiter in a factory, a top level business manager and, throughout all of that, a great jazz saxophone player and composer/arranger in London and the South of England. In his latter years he studied for the Church and became a Lay Preacher.
On his one LP he says “My Philosophy has been to Work enough to Live.” In reality he did very much more – his “Life” will be fondly and gratefully remembered on Monday and for a long time to come by many who derived benefit from it.