OTHELLO, we know

On Tuesday, June 5, 2018 my enthusiasm to see OTHELLO at the Delacorte Theater in Central was moderate. “The most powerful and dangerous of Shakespeare’s masterpieces,” Oskar Eustis, Artistic Director opened on May 29, 2018. My long term association with Dr. Kim Hall, Barnard College has fueled my interest. There are several ways, methods of ticket procurement

·        Donate $500 or more for reserved season tickets

·        Digital Lottery; download Tx app

·        Taub Box Office Public Theater at Astor Place, 425 Lafayette Street, Manhattan

·        Central Park 12 noon Stand-by line distribution

·        Central Park 6pm Stand-by line distribution

None of these is easy; all arduous; all require giving up and entire day especially if you live in New Jersey. But this is not why OTHELLO is “dangerous.”

The Delacorte Theater is a twenty two minute walk from my apartment; it is across the street from the American Museum of Natural History. The Stand-by line on Tuesday, June 5^th curved along the park’s trail to where the lamppost read “8215,” indicating 82^nd street, 15 near the West side. A guy in orange pants with a saxophone, a music stand and a large tip basket bellowed an annoyingly eclectic set.  At the head of the Stand-by line the lovers of OTHELLO had been seated on blankets since 4:30pm. Picnic makers come at 6:30am for the daily 12 noon ticket distribution. The end of the line at 6:45pm was near a park bench, I sat.

At 6:45pm this Tuesday, my first attempt to see Ruben Santiago-Hudson’s direction of OTHELLO was underway. In my head I heard the audio announcing at street crossings, “WAIT, WAIT, WAIT.” The theatre Staff were monitoring the Line. They expected us to have an ID number for The Public Theater. This was easily obtained once they logged in you vital statistics, i.e. email address. Yes marketing is ubiquitous even (especially) for free events. The Line quickly moved forward as we all received tickets.

This open air theater space for the audience is gigantic so is the stage! The jets and helicopters fly noisily overhead. The gibbous moon competes with the stage lights directing our listening. The weather was clear and very cool. There were empty seats when the stage lights brightened on Brabantio, father of Desdemona (Heather Lind). The Playbill describes Santiago-Hudson’s “directorial mission is to see this mighty military man ---and newfound husband (Chukwudi Iwuji) from within so that we don’t walk all over Othello.” Is this what makes the tragedy “dangerous?” I left at the Intermission.

With resolve and longing to see the second half the morning stroll to Central Park began. Saturday, June 23^rd at 10:45am the Line curved along the park’s trail to where the lamppost read 8315, indicating 83^rd street, 15 near the West side. Emotions had been steeled from a rereading. That same saxophone guy was there. The friendly picnickers at the head of this Stand-by Line had arrived at 6:30am, 10:30am mid Line. I didn’t consider waiting. My decision to leave spoke of hopelessness.

Alas the next stroll, the next night was the last night, Sunday June 24, 2018 the final 8pm performance. The Stand-by Line circled further north than you can imagine. I arrived at 6:30pm, desperate to see the second half. The saxophone tunes were asking for tips. The picnickers grinned in forbearance and exchanged senseless banter. My Patron ID number is 1106474. I provided my email address and any and all other information required to describe my vital signs. At 7:30pm many Shakespeare lovers in Line defected. The Line slowly flowed forward.  At 8:00pm we heard the musical Overture. That Staff monitoring the Line had coached us to caution our hopefulness. Now they walked down the Line counting us.  We all thought, “He’s counting how many more tickets are needed.” Then suddenly with boisterous projection he said, “The Box Office is now closed. We have no more tickets for this the last performance of OTHELLO. Thank you for coming to The Public Theater Shakespeare in the Park. We are closed for three weeks. Twelfth Night opens on July 17^th.” The disappointed crowd of about fifty quickly dispersed. Except for me. Slowly my departure noticed that the voices of the production could be heard over the loud speakers nearer the Theatre entrance. Others were already sitting on a bench listening. When I joined them my attention was enhanced by the visual memory from my first watching earlier in this season. This seemed to be the thing to do, the proper denial of lost.

What is “dangerous” about OTHELLO is that when reading the play reading the footnotes is required. This frequent referencing is a necessary distraction in order to comprehend the numerous unfamiliar words and word usage. Other references that contribute understanding are knowledge of the history and culture of Venice. Seeing a performance provides a gestalt.

For Othello, the brutality of war versus the vulnerability to be in love was his danger. He frequently describes Iago as “honest” when Iago implies Desdemona as “false.” This is a vulnerability we share in our personal lives as we may receive “fake news” from commercial media and social media. We may even receive “fake news” from ‘friends.’ The ability to discern honest friendships is not an academic subject. This is the subject of one’s emotional IQ.  We are fluent in the medical immune system but who teaches us about how to develop our psychological immune system?

One of my seated comrades asked a Staffer would there be seating at the Intermission. She curtly replied that there would be no new admissions at the Intermission.  Another comrade reported that the forecast described a major rain storm approaching. A drop of rain touched my cheek.  Oh! Maybe some people will leave! The rain stopped. The rain started again. Others left the bench. I raised my arms up, “Why are you leaving?” Just then members of the audience themselves started leaving. I jumped up to the approaching rain fearing couple, “tickets?” The companions reached into their pockets producing their tickets. “These are good seats.” (Good seats?) Yippee! One for me and one for this stranger standing near me. We looked at our bounty and then at each other. We smiled and became fast friends. “We’re in!” But not until the Intermission. To not invoke suspicions we searched for a posted floor plan to facilitate a knowing our seats’ entrance. And they were good seats. We stayed till the end  .  .  . until the bed came up out of the floor.

Life Unlimited

FAKE NEWS HOW?

Miracle of connections made as we bumped across the Manhattan Bridge into Brooklyn  .  .  .

Where does fake news come from? Ideas on radio talk shows? CNN? BBC? Friends, family? The public media makes the choice for us of news topics. The media then dictates a perspective. Therefore listeners receive an opinion which describes topics that are news worthy and which way to interpret this news.

News and perspectives can come from books. Books are written by scholars who do research for years by reading other scholars. People who write books may also receive ideas by discussing their research with their colleagues. Some opinions may come from their own informed activities.

Listening to one medium or reading one book may produce some very one-sided opinions. Conclusions void of the reality that these ideas could possibly be partial or ill-formed or fake.

Where do we get ideas about ourselves? Sometimes we might have ideas about ourselves based on partial information. Psychologists describe our relationships with others as a circle of thirds.

v knowing the self as others know you

v knowing the self that others do not know

v not knowing the self that others know

I notice that there is an unknown self in relationship to others because occasionally I have stupid ideas. Occasionally my behavior is irrational. I ask myself did I say that? Others ask why did I do that? The comment or behavior (seemingly) came out of no where, out of proportion. The information that I have about myself maybe like the news on TV; a limited number of topics and a one-sided perspective.

Perhaps this behavior in relationship to others was a new and unique situation. A conversation with no historical reference, no prior hearing, no preparedness. So the response seems to come from nowhere. What is required to handle this altercation is the question. It may require a verbal skill, an emotional awareness, or a personality trait. It certainly may not come naturally.

Neither does the performance of jazz piano. To perform the style of "swing" will require a myriad of perspectives. Eighth notes with bars or brackets or flags? The scholar will emerge .  .  . to read, to listen, to write, to feel, to practice. Unlimited by family history or regional proclivitIes my emotional energy is expressed. I may get to know myself.

Historical Marker Cordova, Tennessee

The word stranger has a hospitable meaning in Memphis, Tennessee. Strangers speak to you like they know you: "mam" or "Miss Myrna. " Memphis is a different culture. It seems that I am no longer a Memphian.  I can say that I am ‘from Memphis.’  Living in Manhattan, New York for thirty years disqualifies me from being a Memphian. During this visit back to my hometown my hosts, Bev and Rob Crawford had to remind me that Memphis is a different culture.

At the gas station on Elvis Presley Blvd with points available for the neighboring Kroger grocery store; the woman in line ahead of us offered to pump our gas. I was speechless, suspicious,  afraid.  Perhaps I should cower my New York  city smugness. Such bravado is misguided because Memphians have a few things figured out. My high school classmates are living large in classy sports cars with golf clubs in the back, large two car garage homes with two large trees on the front lawn.  They know how to live with this land and in this culture:        Latitude 35 °10’22.13N Longitude 89 °44’35.92W

So did my grandfather, Dr. Greene Forte Pinkston. My mother’s father, GF graduated from Meharry Medical School in 1904. This began a tradition of family members attending undergraduate and graduate professional schools in Nashville, Tennessee. His medical practice in Memphis and in Cordova was miraculous given the segregated culture at that time. His medical practice included obstetrics, dentistry and pharmacy. In 1915 GF purchases 258 acres of farm land in the rural area Cordova at $50/acre. His early plans included a dairy farm with his sister and her husband.

In 1963 at the age of 87 years GF was a victim of eminent domain. The Tennessee Valley Authority purchased 188.66 acres of his farmland for $530/acre. TVA and Memphis, Light, Gas and Water utility would build a $8.3 million facility, a substation/service center on the site of the Pinkston medical office and family farmhouse. It is estimated that this land is worth $10,000/acre today.

My first cousins who live and thrive in this ‘today’ Memphis have organized the placement of a Historical Marker at 1738 Lenow Road, Cordova, TN. It stands tall across the road from the TVA substation/service center. Family members from east and west were present November 12^th for the Dedication Ceremony.  My physical memory peaked as we turned left onto Lenow  Road. The giant substation loomed ahead on the left. The Historical Marker stands on the right.  Only the citizens of Shelby County are grateful for the electricity that fueled the sprawling development of east Memphis.  There is a Starbucks coffee shop at the nearby Mall.

At the Dedication Ceremony on Saturday we were all grateful to Howard Pinkston, Jr, grandson who presented long stem red roses to the organizers: two of the granddaughters Bonnie and Carmen Pinkston.  We heard from dignities and family members who made tributes to the life and times of GF. Jimmy Ogle, Shelby County Historical Commission was the Master of Ceremonies. He introduced his colleagues, including Sylvester Lewis who subsequently unveiled the Marker at roadside. A friend to the ‘farm’ family and neighbor John L. Garrison Jr. reminisced. Darlene Sawyer, author and Cordova historian gave detailed historical information. www.cordovahistory.com My childhood friend and historian Roland Walter spoke along with V. Lynn Evan, TVA Board of Directors. Ms. Evan suggested a justification for this uprooting. "The land where the farmhouse stood (and the pecan trees that I remember) was flat enough for the necessary construction." She presented a plaque to our family.

Wentworth "Earl" Miller lll, grandson had heard that GF had a style of discipline that simply required "a look." This was kinder than his treatment of the farm animals. Garland Pinkston Jr., grandson described  his youthful experiences as a summer visitor from Washington, DC. He remembered the picking of the prickly cotton.

Pauline Pinkston Oden, youngest daughter of GF shared her query, "Why did GF move to the Cordova farm?" She understood that her Dad valued education for herself and siblings. Their mother Penella B. Horne and children lived in Memphis going to school. Summers were spent with farm chores including gardening, then selling the garden vegetables at the Memphis market. "Why did he choose to be `everyones´doctor, a gentleman farmer and raise nine children?" Charles Pinkston, son of GF  asked "How did he do it all?"

When  Howard Pinkston,Jr  spoke he said "Dad (son of GF) had a passion for farming." He worked with his dad as a young adult with the early mornings and the long days, the brutally hot rides on the tractor and other challenges that have guaranteed that a portion of the original acreage remains in their family. Walking on this land Saturday,  I stepped away from the temporary tent, away from the stage, the chairs, the ramp for  Uncle Howard’s wheelchair, the buffet table, the champagne, walking away from the attending friends and family with their numerous cars parked along the roadside. It is an ironic scene. My eyes teared at the sight; the imposing swath of giant electrical towers across this land. My steps landed between rows of six inch corn plantings. The soil was soft but dry. The color was tan; my shoes were dusted.

There are many things wild and wonderful in the culture that was once my Memphis home. Jerome Wright, journalist details this family history on the editorial page of the local paper, Sunday, November 6, 2016. http://www.commercialappeal.com/story/opinion/columnists/jerome-wright/2016/11/05/honor-gentleman-farmer/93244096/

He describes my grandfather, not the `Grindfather,´ Tony Allen, Memphis basketball Grizzlies forward. We photographed  the  full moon at perigee in the Crawford’s backyard. It was dark enough to see Venus. I practiced my swing jazz piano studies at AMRO Music Store for no $charge. In Elmwood Cemetery we meandered among friends and relatives.  It was 4:30pm when the night watchman invited us to leave. Steve Harvey, TV/radio 103.5fm personality tied together lives long past, living large and love of God.

"I'm just wild about Harry"

It is certainly permissible to start any research @ wikipedia.org. However let me caution this source.  For the whole story try your public library, all you need is a library card.  Eubie Blake and Noble Sissle, composer, lyricist  collaborated for the musical Shuffle Along. A revival of this 1921 sensation is planned for spring 2016. The sheet music for one of the songs, I’m Just Wild about Harry has been published in many collections.  How to know which of these listed below was the original arrangement? Let’s start with the Classic Catalogue  then the Song Index at the Library for the Performing Arts Lincoln Center.

Code	Title	Year	Page	Key	Meter	“Ecstacy” chord	Comment
MU784.81	More Songs of the Twenties	1994	86	C	₵	G⁷+5B	Allegro moderato
MU784.B	Eubie Blake Revue		14	Bflat	3/4 4/4	F⁷+5	Moderately in 1 Freely  in 1 60¢
G1	Judy Garland Song Book	1939	33	C	4/4	G⁷+5	“Babes in Arms”
G27	Great Loony Tune Collection	1936	126	Bflat	¾`	F⁷+5
B20	The Broadway Songbook		341	C	4/4	G+	Includes a second verse
R27	Readers Digest Family Songbook	1969	112	C	4/4	G⁷+	Run GABCnatDEG
T93	35 Song Hits by Great Black Songwriters		71	C	2/4	Melody D#	Subtitled “One Step Song”
P.1V.8 P.3V.8				C	2/4	F B D#	Run  as above

Each of these publishings had Eubie Blake and Noble Sissle listed as composer and lyrist but were arranged variously.  One even included a second verse.  Each arrangemnt added or subtracted or changed. Of particular interest and variation is the measure “fill me with ec sta sy” the melody note is either a C# or D#. The chord is voiced differently. None of the above used the cover sheet as pictured  wikipedia.org

Lyrics

There’s just one fellow for me in this world Harry’s his name. That’s what I claim. Why for ev’ry fellow there must be a girl. I’ve found my fate by kindness of fate.

There are some fellows that like all the girls. I mean the vamps. With cruel lamps. But my Harry says I’m the girl of all girls. I’m his ideal. How happy I feel.

Chorus: Oh, I’m Just Wild about Harry and Harry’s wild about me. The heav’n ly blisses of his kisses fill me with ecstasy. He’s sweet just like chocolate candy and  just like honey from the bee Oh, I’m Just Wild about Harry and he’s just wild about me.

Coda:        He’s just wild about, cannot do without, he’s just wild about me.

When searching in the Classic Catalogue if you read the three letters LDC you must prepare yourself for a treat. The D. and L. Cullman Center of the NY Public Library for the Performing Arts is located on the third floor. The security is relentless because here are stored the fine jewels of music. When you submit the LDC call number to the Librarian you are given earphones. At the nearby listening station you control the CD that plays: volume, repeat or forward.

LDC 36314 CD

An unknown interviewer on this CD recording began by describing the Washington D.C Metropolitan Police Band playing the waltz I’m Just Wild about Harry  at a Campaign Rally for soon to be elected President Harry Truman, October 1948.  This recording was at a private gathering, The Hennings in New Haven, Connecticut. Eubie Blake speaks freely about his colleague Noble Sissle and the leading lady, Florence Mills for the musical Shuffle Along. They ridiculed the idea of a waltz in a ‘colored’ musical. He reminded them of the 1902 musical Pale Moon Shines written by Cooke. He performs on the piano two versions of I’m Just Wild about Harry in order to demonstrate two different tempos. This waltz he transposed into a ragtime by adding a syncopation. It as Noble Sissle and the lady(   ) who wanted what they thought the audience would like. “Sissle was more commercial, interested in the money. I was an artist” He mentions “Izzie” (Irvin Berlin), Leslie Stewart and Victor Herbert as musicians who inspired him.

The interviewer plays Stars and Strikes Forever as music E. Blake heard as a child growing up in Baltimore, Maryland. He suggested that marching music, ragtime and operatic music combined to create a synthesis. E. Blake performed a transposition of the Pilgrim Chorus from Tannhauser by Wagner and then ended the interview with the Cole Porter tune You do something to me.

LDC40474

WNEW-TV Interviewer Bill Boggs Midday Live

Voices Rosalynn Carter;Eubie Blake, at age 93; Ervin Drake

At the intro E. Blake plays a “Classic Rag.” Bill Boggs asked Rosalynn Carter how did she and her then governor Jimmy Carter decide he should run for President. She remarked that just as the campaign has gone it was a family decision. “So many things I’ve seen around the country that need help.”

Bill Boggs asked E. Blake what was his schedule when he worked at the ‘houses of ill repute’ in Baltimore, Maryland? “At my age, 15, there were no Unions. You would play til you drop then you were off. The madam didn’t even pay me the planned $3/week because she saw  money in my tips jar.” E. Blake said that his mom didn’t believe that I was playing there.Her friends, who called me ‘Cubie’ told her that they heard me ‘wobble the bass’ boogie woogie style. His mom disdained his talent calling him a “pie ana plunker.” E. Blake told about partying with friends on New Year’s Eve 1-1-1899.  They went to church then to a Bar called Greenfell (spell?) at Chestnut and Low Street in Baltimore, Maryland. There was sawdust on the floor and a water trough where you would blow the foam from your beer.

The President of the American Guild of Authors and Composers, Ervin Drake appealed to the public to contact their congressmen to support a bill to extend the copyrights and  guarantee paying a minumum royality on each record that sold. E. Blake said ”What we are paid has not changed even the records once 89¢ are now sold at $5-12.”                      

Music Sheet 98-159           

Across the quiet room from the listening stations there is a more austere space that is brightly lit. Several people are silently studying. After completing a form describing my name, institution and planned usage the Librarian instructed me to leave all books, pens and extra paper on the shelving.  She accepted my library card and began typing this data into her computer. Within a few minutes she opened a large box and removed an 11X 17inch folder containing the sheet music for “I’m just Wild about Harry, subtitled Fox Trot Song” with the black and white and orange cover sheet, as pictured on wikipedia.org  page. Gently opening the fragile paper time stood still. 40¢.  M.Witmark and Sons #7 Witmark Building New York Copyright MCMXXI 773  16482-3 International Copyright secured. Key: C ₵ with no chord symbols. Introduction plus an mp vamp.The notes at “ecstacy” were similar to the arrangement in 35 Song Hits by Great Black Songwriters, including the fill GABCnatDEG. Bass clef rest. Two verses.

Two ads were at the bottom of the sheet music:

M.Witmark and Sons 16482-3 If you are interested in Quartet Music Sacred and Secular. Novelties of all Kinds 1500 numbers. Send for Catalogue №1. Arranged for male and female voices. Enclose 2¢ stamp for postage

M.Witmark and Sons 16482-3 If you are interested in Amateur Minstrelsy or other entertainment. Its full of Good Things and Loads of Suggestions. Send for Catalogue №2 Enclose 2¢ stamp for postage

Ah, ecstasy!

The politics of Music. What I choose to play and why.

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 Guest Editor:Lafayette Harris,Jr.,pianist, composer,educator

 
Lets  be real. We only play what we know. I play music that relates to my  culture. Being black, from a basically southern area, Baltimore, Md. (by  way of Virginia) and born of parents who went to church. Baptist  church. Black baptist of course.
 
I've made my living in New  York City  playing all kinds of music. Before I left my home for college  in the early 1980's I was in a funk/disco band called Life Unlimited.   We played weekends and rehearsed every week night. The repertoire? The  usual things you heard on the radio in the late 70's and early 80's:  Chic, Kool And The Gang, The Commodores, Bohannon, Donna Summer, Rick  James.
 
That was the music that people were familiar with and  that had been pushed on them by their local DJ's at the radio stations.  Of course the youngsters loved it. It was good fun-time music. My mother  often yelled for us to "turn that mess off!"
 
For the people who  went to church like she did, there was a whole 'nother dimension to  what they thought of music. It must relate to Jesus! Because praising  Jesus was what they wanted, needed and loved. Sometimes more than  anything or anybody else! Anyway, I relate to how they felt because I  experienced the feelings of sanctified church in both Baltimore and  during our frequent visits to my grandmothers home in rural Virginia.
 
When  I started becoming more educated in music I learned about our jazz  heroes. Clark Terry, Slide Hampton (my band teachers played brass  instruments) and Oscar Peterson. I'd already learned about Scott Joplin  and Eubie Blake from hearing Eubie on TV. 
 
Now that's three  major styles of music and I saw it in a black way even though some of my  teachers were white. Gospel, Pop and what I play mostly today Jazz.
 
A  few years ago I started playing pretty often with Houston Person. We  had played together and recorded quite a bit with Ernestine Anderson.
There  was a special chemistry I felt playing with both Houston and Ernestine.  I didn't understand what that was until I had some good conversations  with Houston.
The three of us are all southerners and therefore  share a common culture. Of course people from the north have some of the  same qualities but I began to realize that there was a significant  difference in how we were raised and what we were exposed to.
The  "down home" feeling in people from the south is something that was  constant and not seen as offensive or degrading. Northerners often are  embarrassed by their "fresh from the sticks" cousins with their country  accents and unsophisticated mannerisms. I think it's a social issue that  many of today's musicians black, white and otherwise have not thought  much about. They aren't aware of how this issue relates to their own  sound as a musician and even more so a singer!
 
James Brown ad Elvis Presley don't sound like they're from Boston do they? Neither does Ray Charles or Ella Fitzgerald. 
 
So  I started thinking: why haven't I been made aware of these significant  differences? One reason I think is that, not a lot of people understand  these concepts and therefore don't see what the importance of them are.  Two, I think a lot of people don't feel comfortable talking about how we  differ. That is that we see and respond to the world differently  depending on our backgrounds in religion, race, economic level, sexual  orientation, and very important; whether we're from below or above that  North/South cultural divide: The Mason Dixon Line.
 
I was  married to a woman from Chicago for several years. Many things about her  were very different from what I was used to. She was of Hispanic origin  and had a catholic background.  I was totally unprepared for how these  differences would affect our relationship.
 
Sometimes when we  listened to music together I'd notice that she liked plainer sounding  instrumentation and what I thought were white sounding voices. (In  hindsight they were people not from the south!) I, on the other hand  required some soul and funkiness to what I wanted to hear. I did  appreciate all types of artists. But I was stunned by what she thought  was good!
 
Now I look back and realize that we each had a certain  comfort level with things. Things that reminded us of our southern or  northern roots and our religious backgrounds. (Even though neither of us  went to church!)
 
Most jazz saxophone players have either Bird  or Cannonball as their alto saxophone hero. It seems that many  northerners, Detroit, Chicago, New York prefer Charlie Parker while many  southerners particularly cats from Florida follow Cannonball Adderley.  Now, no one can compare to Bird not even Cannonball Adderely. Bird  certainly was a super soulful player and master of blues. I think many  people like how Cannonball used blues more overtly vs  Charlie Parker's  sublime approach.
 
Then you have the Texas style boogie woogie piano players vs the Chicago greats like Earl Hines and Nat Cole. 
 
Now  a days many of my peers play jazz music that doesn't relate to the  southern roots of music. It is often very complex and difficult for the  musicians to learn. When it's played well the audiences are blown away  and they really enjoy the excitement of hearing something that sounds  new and fresh. But many people are left wondering?... "Where the soul  at?"
 
My choices of what to play boil down to whether or not I  can actually feel the music or not. If it doesn't give me a feeling  somewhere inside then I kind of have the urge to skip to the next thing.  I recently played with the great bassist and personal friend Lonnie  Plaxico. I had to study his original music for weeks before I could even  be ready for a rehearsal! I was so glad I tackled his music and was  able to do a gig with him. It greatly broadened what I thought I was  capable of learning and performing. He knew that I had learned many  Ragtime piano pieces as well as Charlie Parker solos. He said if I could  learn that music there was no reason why I couldn't learn his. (At  first I thought he was wrong but he proved he was right!)
 
What I  choose to compose and play though comes from a different point of view.  Yes, I've written things that only come from my intellect and aren't  hummable melodies. But I see that you can have strait forward  melodies  and rhythms and do them in creative ways so both the spirit and the  intellect get stimulated.
 
I think Duke Ellington (a DC native) was the master of "simple meets sophisticated!"
 
I  really relish an overall vibe when I write music. I will often think of  a nice swing or funk feel that dancers could "step" to and then write  to that. And the drummer I play with is always very important. They have  to have a feel that I can relate to, or else I'm constantly guessing  where and when to play.
 
So these are my music politics.
 
I've got to feel it or I ain't gonna play it!
 
  
Lafayette Harris, Jr.
www.lafayetteharrisjr.com
www.facebook.com/lafayette.harris

Newport Jazz Festival 2015

On Friday July 24^th Jazz Mobile Summerfest presented Barry Harris Jazz Group that included the BH chorus. At 8:15pm The Classical Theater of Harlem presented the Tempest with Ron Cephas Jones as Prospero. At the #7 bus stop on the way home I made a new friend. MP had already made extensive plans to attend  the NEWPORT JAZZ  FESTIVAL: car renting, hotel and tickets purchased on line.

NEWPORT JAZZ  FESTIVAL  is the oldest and grandest of jazz listening venues. It is a three day Friday-Sunday mega event, July 31- August 2, 2015. It is produced by Newport Festivals Foundation, Inc. a nonprofit, with generous support from NATIXIS global asset management. When my dream of attending began to percolate I surfed newportjazzfest.org. The list of scheduled artists were unfamiliar names. The location was Fort Adams State Park, a half hour drive from a friend’s summer home in Rhode Island.

It was a long slow drive from Manhattan on Friday afternoon. Giving me the opportunity to admire the variety of beautiful trees along the scenic and winding Highway 15. Je’dore Le Merritt. Young and old trees, small and large, some pruned, some sculptured by storms, small leaves, broad leaves but rarely a conifer.  As the sun set, a blue moon rose, large and bright.

Saturday morning  it was a pleasant drive on Highway 138 then parking in Jamestown. Taking the  $23 roundtrip ferry ride to the Fort Adams Park was a choppy 15 minutes.  The Jamestown exit (before the second bridge) avoided the traffic congestion in the town of Newport . In a party of two or more economically park in Newport  at $25, then ferry to Fort Adams $10 roundtrip. First mate Joy aided the boarding.   Captain Skip checking tables in Elderidge explained the unusually low tide associated with perigee. Mean low at Jamestown is 4.8feet.

In my starry eyes there appeared a gentleman up-holding Festival tickets. He gave me one.

The Fort Stage is the largest of the four  across the park. There are picnic tables near the Quad Stage. The Storyville stage is indoors and Harbor Stage is the shadiest, coolest spot. They all have chairs up front for 10am arrivals. The next option is rearmost ground seating in the sun. There were many arts and craft vendors: jewelry; hand-bags; paintings: abstract and portraits; fashionable clothes in African prints; WBGO  jazz station chairs for sale that were the regulated 39” height; a tent where you could purchase appearing artists’ CDs. Lots of food: lobster roll sandwiches, huge colorful open tacos, pulled pork, oysters, clams and chowder. Yum galore. The Brother Thelonius Beer Garden required ID for entrance. Jazz media: Jazz Times and Downbeat and radio stations including the New Jersey station WBGO which sponsored a daily bus trip to the Festival that departed from my neighborhood, the Westside of Manhattan.

Being overwhelmed by the immensity of the crowd I quickly spread an old ragtag patchwork quilt in the grassy area closer to the water  than to the Fort Stage. Maria Schneider introduced her orchestra with Jonathan Blake ( a name I know from Kaufman’s CD) on drums. I could hear him but I couldn’t see him. Then the person in the chair in front of me shifted; the giant screen monitor came into view. The breeze across the water hardly cooled too much sunshine. Next came Jon Batiste, Cassandra Wilson. My new friend, MP arrived with her mom from Baltimore with fruit, sandwiches and chips!   At 5:20pm as Irvin Mayfield and the New Orleans Jazz Orchestra took the stage my heat addled brain couldn’t remember how to get home?

Donning my socks and sneakers I folded the quilt and began to stroll toward the Entrance Gate.  There was a short line to board the Jamestown Ferry, 15 minutes back. Then a van shuttle to the parking lot near Highway 138 and the half hour back to the BLS cabin.

The traveling challenge gave way to musing about this culture, this scene , this American musical art form: JAZZ. At all points of possible interaction with strangers a camaraderie was acknowledged. This was a warm and friendly crowd. Yet this audience did include some people who chatted the entire set away. No, this was not a concert, not a set in a club, not a gig nor a jam session. There was jumpin, swinging, bluesy music on four stages all day long. There was constant strolling from stage to stage. There as the opportunity to less intrusively leave or enter mid-performance for a recently vacated shady seat. This music with its cerebral chord structure tugs emotions without the listeners’ harmonic analysis. In the same way that an erotic impulse is an emotion with no guarantee of a committed relationship.

Sunday morning up early whizzing Highway 138, Jamestown exit, easily finding parking at the Conanicut Marine Services yard. Two other Festival goers boarded the van shuttle to the East Ferry Wharf. SH read the logo on my knapsack. She asked, ,"Are you a cytotech?" Not remembering the logo I was startled! SH works at Lab Core, a specialist like my retired self. She knows where George Papanicolaou is buried in New Jersey and visits there annually on our Professional Recognition Day, May 13^th. SH works at Lab Core a private lab in New Jersey; I worked in the hospital laboratory at Roosevelt/St.Luke’s. We exclaimed the perils of a sedentary career peering thru a microscope. And associated the ‘four stages’ with a prognosis. Her companion, LG is a sound engineer preparing for the Raritan, New Jersey Jazz Festival in September. Perhaps we three will meet again.

At the Admission Box Office $16 was returned from a $100 bill. Jon Faddis Triumph of Trumpets was blaring from the Quad Stage. At the nearby picnic tables I listened and lunched dinner leftovers. Over at the Harbor Stage Fred Hersch Trio performed a pianissimo set competing with chirping sparrows. Next Lou Donaldson introduced his set, "No confusion,  no fusion, no Kenny G, no 50¢ that’s not worth a quarter." The Brit Jamie Cullum with his band and a local big band up lifted the crowd to dancing.

WOW!

 Let’s plan 2016.