I know when summer starts to ebb away, no matter what the temperature, because the classes I teach begin again and I must assume the identity I have put away for months.
Soon there are local apples for sale, Halloween pumpkins (everything is done in a rush in this country), and the nights grow cooler.
Musicians begin to offer us AUTUMN NOCTURNE, ‘TIS AUTUMN, and AUTUMN SERENADE . . . but the one closest to my heart is the song by Kurt Weill (music) and Maxwell Anderson (lyrics) that is theoretically about September but really about time and our attempt to lose not a glorious minute. The lyrics suggest that the singer is male, aging, and fully aware that time is flying — but those words limit us. What I hear is Weill’s melody: warm, aching, melancholy, yet hopeful. Music, the notes say, can make the inexorable path to death an exultant one, whether we are making the music or absorbing it:
I was fortunate enough to hear, see, and capture a touching performance of this song at the 2015 Allegheny Jazz Party, held in Cleveland, Ohio, two weeks ago (beginning with a Thursday night jam session on September 10, 2015). The noble participants here are Ehud Asherie, piano; Harry Allen, tenor saxophone; Dan Barrett, trombone; Frank Tate, string bass; Ricky Malichi, drums:
They make us realize how precious these days, and these sounds, are. Savor them while they are here.
May your happiness increase!