Fred Settenberg’s piece on Paul Motian intrigues me. Although I don’t always enjoy writing so powerfully aware of its own power, Settenberg’s piece — just posted a day ago — moves me. It feels candid, adult, a little wry: and the love for Motian’s music and what it implied, the dreams that great art leads us into, is fully realized.
It’s worth reading for sure: Motian
But I know that Paul Motian was — in his own quiet, amused, compelling way — a man too large to be encompassed by just one piece of writing. So here is the photographer John Rogers’ tribute to Motian as loving mentor and guide to the big city — a piece I haven’t been able to get out of my system since I first read it:
I wish I could require my students to read these two beautiful evocations side-by-side: Settenberg imagining an ideal future in the sound of recorded jazz; Rogers finding his way with Motian at his side. How very different, how moving, and how true!