James Dapogny’s corporeal self left us six months ago, and we cannot dispute it, although his absence is painful, impossible to accept. But I tell myself he is still here with us in particularly odd and generous ways — appropriate to the man himself, surprising, unpredictable, warm, lively.
When an interviewer talked to Bobby Hackett after Louis’ death, Bobby said that Louis wasn’t dead because we could still hear him, and in some ways that is a consolation. I will leave it to you whether a collection of recorded music adds up to the whole person or is simply a slice of the pie: I lean to the latter, although I treasure the evidence. And I know I’ve drawn spiritual nourishment from immersing myself in the art of people who died before I was born. Still, the loss of the Prof. is too much to rationalize. So all I can do is offer you the following, Jim warming up the piano by playing his own blues, a video not seen or heard before:
Chris Smith, Jim’s deep friend and co-leader of the band PORK, says this of the video: As you can imagine, I heard Jim do this sort of playing countless times. Just playing the blues in many keys. There is a spiritual aspect to it, that is obvious. But he was also doing the real work of a musician that involves touching on those corners of the music that sometimes trip us up in performance (hitting the V/V, etc.). Playing the blues is good for us in so many ways. And yes, it is really funny that we don’t see him until the very last second.
I feel that Jim would be amused by this video, perhaps touched by how much I and others cherish it. And him. When the invisible pianist can make sounds that move us, does he remain invisible? I don’t know. And I must muse over Jim as he mused over the piano. All he gave — and gives — us is precious.
I omit the usual closing. It will reappear, but it’s not in the right key here.