Jazz

I am a member of the Jazz Heritage Society. No need to send congratulatory cards. It is a music club to which anyone can belong. I am guessing that such clubs are dying out with on-line purchasing and iTunes and all, but I am holding on. By the way, the club offers on-line ordering. Every so often, I order music through the club (usually by sending the card back through the mail – someone needs to help keep the US Postal Service afloat) and about three weeks later my order arrives in the mail. It makes that day’s mail more enjoyable.
My history with jazz goes back to college. I listened to jazz occasionally then. I remember hearing John Coltrane’s “Central Park West” in a class on Art in America, and I was swept up in its beauty. Every so often, I would listen to some jazz here and there until about eight years ago I sort of “rediscovered” jazz with a passion.
Those who know me or have read this blog for any length of time know of my love for music. That love bursts the bounds of style and genre. Sometimes the wordless beauty of jazz (though I also appreciate jazz vocals) touches me deeply in a wonderfully unique way. The richness of a John Coltrane ballad like “Naima” or “After the Rain” moves my soul, as does the sheer joy of a Louis Armstrong trumpet solo.
My most recent jazz listening, care of the Jazz Heritage Society, has been “Duke Ellington: The Great Paris Concert.” Ellington’s large jazz ensembles could swing with such joy. From the first piano chords which led into “Rockin’ in Rhythm” I was smiling. My heart was smiling. My soul was smiling. The music testified again to the truth of the words of jazz drummer Art Blakey: Jazz washes away the dust of everyday life.
And if you’ve not listened to jazz in awhile, click this link to Coltrane’s “After the Rain”

John Coltrane, After the Rain

With Faith and With Feathers,

David